Chapter 50: One Good Turn…


Rear Admiral Roderick Vickson of the battleship SSV Schultz watched with a sinking feeling as the Reaper fleet, now larger in number than his own, began its advance. The earlier 'victory' in the Sol system had cost him a large number of ships, too many ships. Nearly a fifth of Shepard's battle-group had gone with the Normandy to escort the Prothean's infiltration craft. While such a number was relatively small, every ship would count in this battle.

"All hands to stations. Tell the Fleet to take up positions. ETA on the enemy craft?"

"Eight minutes sir."

Vickson kept his eyes glued to the view screen, watching as the Ladar painted the incoming fleet. There were so many.


Reaver's first wing came in behind the planet, cutting off all routes of escape towards the system's primary relay. This battle would not be a contest, it would be a massacre. The Reapers' kill ratio was only as low as it was because they had been outnumbered in several of their engagements. In this confrontation, the GDF was finished.

Reaver almost laughed as the first lines of fire were exchanged; only with numerical advantage did the organics' ships pose any actual threat. He felt the impacts of several anti-capitol ship slugs on his shields, but shrugged them off. Red lances of metal streaked from his weapon arms, searing into the enemies' kinetic barriers.

Dozens of colors blended together and blurred into seemingly solid columns of energy and metal. Fire roiled from ships on both sides, casting ghostly shadows across their comrades. The battle for Sol had begun in earnest.


Although the Reapers had no literal command structure, Harbinger was the de facto leader of their forces. While not crippling, his effective loss was still a significant blow to the machine fleet. The ancient ship was almost dead weight now, barely able to communicate with his brethren, let alone fight.

Nonetheless, Omen would crack the geth firewalls inside the week. Once that had been accomplished, the organics' fleets would be crushed beneath the weight of the Reapers' true strength. Hundreds of thousands would pour through the Citadel relay and overwhelm every world in days. Virus or no, the GDF's days were numbered.


Hundreds of ships danced around each other as lasers flashed, missiles detonated and slugs streaked to their marks. Countless husks of Reaper and GDF forces alike floated dead in space. Explosions of dazzling light burned into the retinas of those unfortunate enough to view them through unshielded windows.

The Sol fleet was getting torn apart. Human, turian, asari, geth and quarian vessels alike billowed with smoke and fire. Many of the Reaper craft were venting plasma as well, but their opponents' losses were mounting swiftly.

Captain Taar'Dei watched as the Sethala's starboard hull plating buckled outward, sending a cascade of metal and gas into the space around it. Red-hot metal surged through the cruiser, bisecting it along the keel. The Sethala lazily drifted apart, small explosions erupting along the length of the hull, silent in the vacuum of space.

Eight more of the GDF craft ruptured and expelled fire simultaneously as the Netoa launched a trio of 'splitter' slugs at the nearest Reaper. Each shot in the burst rocked the gunship a hair further than the last, but the Reaper fared far worse. Its shields had already been downed by a now smoldering geth cruiser and none of the slugs were impeded by kinetic barriers as they thudded into the ancient destroyer's hull.

Dei watched in satisfaction as the enemy vessel shuddered, a red seam appearing at the point of impact. The feeling was short lived, as the quarian Captain saw the Reaper's damage control systems staunch the flow of plasma and prevent the injury from expanding.

"Status report!" She demanded.

"Cannon charge at 45 percent. Ma'am, reports are coming in, our forces have suffered 50 percent casualties, brass is preparing a retreat order."

"Circle around, hit the Ruuka again. The brass can screw themselves."

Before the Netoa's splitter cannon could loose another salvo, its target shuddered. Static washed over the comms of every ship engaged in the battle. Dei watched as the Reaper ahead of them seemed to tremble, then an unholy scream echoed through the gunboat. All of the crew grabbed hold of whatever they could to steady themselves as a faint blue ripple of light hit them.

The cabin of the small craft shook like a thing possessed, then, abruptly as it started, the tremor subsided. Dei's eyes narrowed as the Reaper they had struck minutes before seemed to light up along the injury and a fresh gout of plasma spewed from the wound. For some inexplicable reason, the enemy craft's damage control systems had suddenly failed, allowing the seam in its hull to grow and heat as more and more plasma burned into its armor. Suddenly a brilliant flash shone where the Reaper had been and Dei was forced to shield her eyes briefly.

"What was that?"

Guuvo'Hgahn, the vessel's pilot answered. "Unknown Ma'am, other ships are reporting their targets immobile."


Reaver knew something was wrong when the first burst of the signal came through the relay. The organics' fleet was half-destroyed in this system, and his craft had suffered comparatively few losses, but the slight tingle in his mind felt wrong. Without warning, the sensation blossomed into full-on agony, wracking every nerve and processing matrix with unimaginable pain.

The dreadnaught momentarily lost control of his systems, releasing jets of metal at random angles from his weapon arms. Other Reapers also loosed their ordnance without aiming, cutting into several of their brethren with devastating results. The pain subsided quickly, but the Reaper fleet had suffered significant losses in the brief period of incapacitation. They still outnumbered the organics, but some type of virus now crawled through their systems, slowing their reactions and weakening their shields.


The Normandy SR-2 shot through the Arcturus prime relay just as the virus hit the Reaper fleet in Sol. Shepard wasn't foolish enough to hope that the machine fleet would remain disabled for long, and used the brief window of vulnerability to have his battle-group burn a hole in the Reapers' defensive barricade. The Commander's ships barely had time to get out of firing range of the blockade before the enemy vessels came back on-line.

"Takes us to the main fight joker, there's nothing we can do against that." Shepard indicated the ships that they had just passed.

"Aye aye."


The Captain's eyes flamed, their silver luminescence burning through the pale blue of her visor. Netoa had yet to take a hit, and she wasn't going to let her craft be ordered off the battlefield until the enemy had been routed. Dei pointed to one of the Reapers on the display screen and the pilot nodded; he knew exactly what she wanted him to do.

Guuvo brought the gunship into a steep dive and rolled it sideways, barely evading an incoming ribbon of molten slag. Dei felt the vessel jerk hard to the left as her pilot's fingers deftly flew over the controls. Netoa slipped under the Reaper destroyer and swung around, bringing the ship's primary cannon to bear.

"Fire disruptors!" Dei's order was met by a shudder as the Netoa released a cloud of disruptor torpedoes. The missiles' contrails made a white veil in front of the small craft as they danced towards their designated marks. Brilliant blue flashes shone along the Reaper's prow, flaring and overloading its mighty shield system.

No sooner had the gunboat fired than a crimson stream of molten metal surged into its shields. Netoa shook violently as the beam cut through her kinetic barriers along the keel, spinning the ship.

Dei watched as her ship's assailant came into view, a tiny craft compared to its brethren, but still easily four times the size of her own. "All torpedoes! NOW!" She motioned at the screen, pointing to the offending ship.

200 instruments of destruction plumed out of the gunboat, lazily arcing to meet the designated target. The Netoa shook violently as the ordnance vaporized the Reaper, sending an electromagnetic shock through the ship.

"Shields are off-line, kinetic generators are not responding."

Without their shields even a glancing hit from another Reaper 'frigate' would end them. They were as good as dead. "All power to the engines, we ram that ship." Dei indicated the destroyer they had engaged.

"All power, aye." Guuvo's voice rang hollow, aware of her intentions. The gunboat accelerated towards its original target, engines redlining. A colossal tremor reverberated through each vessel's hull as the Netoa's reinforced bow pierced the Reaper's comparatively soft 'underbelly'.

"Fire the splitter, overcharge the capacitors." Five grueling seconds later, after every drop of the ship's power had been funneled into the primary cannon Dei's command was executed. The Reaper destroyer's upper armor blossomed outward as the quarian gunship loosed its coup de grace, radiating red light from the exit hole. The brilliant display increased in intensity as the Reaper's core overloaded before erupting into a cloud of plasma and molten metal.

Admiral Kiiro's heart sank as he witnessed the famed gunboat vaporized in an instant. A shudder gripped the Ocrid as one of the Reapers turned its weapons to target it. "Damage report!"

"Port kinetics are offline, primary weapons systems have lost 60 percent power. Engines not functional, no additional damage reported."

The Admiral saw the dreadnaught preparing another shot and closed his eyes, resigning himself to fate. So, after everything that had happened, this was how it would end.

A blinding flash shown throughout the cabin and Jule felt a wave of heat wash over him.


The new ships vaguely resembled scorpions. Two long, curved barbs hooked around from the back of each vessel, extending past their prows. The reddish-brown color of each craft lent them an almost organic quality.

Narrow topaz beams flashed from each ship's spines, burning through the Reapers' kinetic barriers. A second volley of beam fire knifed into the ancient fleet's armor; cutting through meters of super dense material. One of the new arrival's vessels hailed the GDF forces; the voice on the end of its channel chattered and clicked, much like an insect.


Shepard watched the carnage streak past as the Normandy made a sharp turn, avoiding yet another Reaper beam. The thanix cannon replied with its own searing attack, chewing through the offending vessel. The Commander watched in grim satisfaction as the Reaper melted apart. One more notch in the frigate's belt.

Joker whooped at the enemy ship's death, "Suck on that!"

A topaz lance of light caught Shepard's eyes and he ground his jaw. There were still Collectors? What followed the beams caught the Spectre completely off guard. Rust colored ships rocketed past, firing as they went. Red beams greeted them, many taking several seconds to pierce the new vessels' shields.

Shepard's chagrin from a moment ago dissipated as new hope pulsed through his body. The memory of Noveria came swirling back. A cold, dank laboratory, illuminated only by sickly blue mining lights, the asari matriarch lay sprawled on the floor before him, bathing in a river of her own blood. There, ahead of him in the tank, the insect queen rested, calmly awaiting his verdict.

Could it truly be them? Had the queen returned to repay the mercy given her so long ago? John's reverie was broken by the image of a pointed insectoid head on the view screen. The alien rasped at him in a familiar series of clicks and chirps.

The rachni had returned.


The battle for Sol had given the GDF the morale boost they needed. Despite losing almost 16,000 ships, the galactic forces again outnumbered the Reaper armada, a success due largely to the timely arrival of their newfound allies.

Shepard looked once again at the number. The GDF was now 32,000 strong, including the Rachni vessels, but the Reaper fleets had 28,000 craft left, more than enough to destroy the GDF's remaining forces even with the virus present in their network. Victory through direct force was out of the question.

Admiral Kiiro stood to the Commander's left. The quarian officer had thought all lost when the light flashed thought the Ocrid's view-ports. He later learned that the light had come from one of the Rachni ships. He was the first in the debriefing room to speak. "We have certainly formed the most unique of alliances in the past weeks. It seems truly providential." He nodded to the rachni queen to his left. The large insectoid chattered and the asari standing next to her translated.

"We are here to honor a debt; our existence is due to the human's kindness."

Shepard acknowledged the remark with a dip of his head. "While I genuinely appreciate the help, we're still in a bad way. Our forces are insufficient to destroy the Reapers through strength in numbers. They've almost gotten control of the relays, but that's not even the biggest problem. When the virus spread through the Reaper fleet it also sent us data on the size of their forces. What we've been fighting is an advance guard."

Everyone's faces paled. Councilor Anderson was the first to speak. "Advance guard?"

"Evidently, the 'back door' that Sovereign made could only pull a small percentage of them through. That or they rarely send the entirety of their forces in during an invasion." Shepard explained.

Tevos' words caught in her throat. "Small- percentage, Commander?"

The Spectre nodded grimly. "On the order of five to six."

"Are you suggesting that there are 800,000 more of them out there?"

Tali felt sick.

"A more accurate approximation would lie closer to 783,333 point three repeating." Legion chirped.

"How could Synn not have told us about this?" Anderson was livid.

"He may not have known, the Protheans weren't ready during the last 'harvest', the Reapers wouldn't have had to send their total strength." Legion observed.

Shepard raised a hand to forestall any further interruptions. "If- when they break through our firewalls, it's over. They can assign groups numbering in the tens of thousands to every major system we have and still have numbers to burn."

"So what?" Admiral Xen challenged. "We just lie down and die?"

The Commander shook his head, his face grim. What he was about to suggest would result in the deaths of millions, perhaps tens of millions, and that was the best possible outcome. Shepard's heart felt like stone. There really was no other option. "No. We deny the Reapers control of the relays. We destroy the Citadel."


Revision note:

Well silly me, I thought there wasn't going to be anything to add to this chapter. Thankfully I've managed to get a significant bit of restructuring into the previous chapters enough to warrant the queen sized expansion that this one received. I'm hoping for an Emperor sized addition to 'Revelation' but we'll see what happens.


Author's Note:

(Spoilers for this chapter ahead, (do not read if you haven't read the chapter).)

I really hated having that ship destroyed, since writing Haestrom; I've grown rather attached to her. I haven't killed off Kal'Reegar. Not explicitly. Until further notice, I'm leaving it up to each reader to decide whether or not he transferred from the ship prior to the battle.

Finally, while it's been refreshing to write some unique combat compared to what I've been writing, the next two chapters will return (largely) to ground engagements. Also, expect to see an old friend make an appearance…