Disclaimer: I don't own the Mass Effect franchise. It belongs to it's respective creators and/or copyright owners and publishers. This story is written with no commercial purpose in mind. I make no money from it. It is not for rent or sale.
Ascension, Book 1: God-slayers
=GS=
Chapter 1
21 March 2183
Presidium
Widow System
Commander Marcus Shepard was observing the Council with trepidation. It took him four days to track down evidence about Saren's treachery and wait for AIS to verify that it wasn't tampered before presenting it to the Council. The wait had been slowly killing him but he had to grudgingly agree with Udina this one time – showing the most powerful people in the galaxy evidence that was fabricated, planted or at least tampered… it would have destroyed the Alliance's credibility and reputation. His too, but that simply didn't matter in the great scheme of things.
"We'll… we'll have to verify this evidence. Goddess..." Tevos muttered when she heard the other recorded voice – the female one. "That's Matriarch Benezia!" The Asari Councilor exclaimed and for a few second looked shocked out of her mind, before schooling her features back into the mask she usually expressed to the world at large.
Well that was surprising, and probably not a good news. If Tevos' reaction was anything to go by, that Benezia woman was another highly placed traitor. An Asari one this time. Treason sure loved company, the bloody bitch. She was probably going to be another complication no one needed too.
"We'll have to verify it of course but..." The Salarian trailed off when Saren chuckled grimly.
"Don't bother, Councilor. We're apparently going with plan A, after all." The traitorous Spectre sighed and shook his head. "I wish you could have seen the truth like I did. That would have saved a bit more of our people from the coming storm." The holographic image of the murderous Turian shrugged. "At least you're about to see first hand why I did it. The Reapers can't be denied or stopped, Councilors. I beseech you to accept the inevitable and support them. Doing anything else means certain destruction."
"Well, he's apparently lost it." Shepard sighed. So that's why Saren attacked Eden Prime – the man had cracked. Of all the bloody reasons… Yet, that therm – Reapers, it jerked something in the back of Marcus' mind. It sounded familiar. Foreboding.
The Commander didn't have any time to ponder the strange feeling, because alarms started blaring all over the Presidium. With the Council in session, everyone could hear it when Tevos' omni-tool started beeping and she answered the call.
"Councilor, a massive fleet just jumped through the Relay. Five dreadnoughts of immense size lead it. The Citadel Fleet is mobilizing but..." The voice of someone in Citadel control carried all over the Citadel Tower thanks to the microphones surrounding the podium taken by the Council.
That was enough for all hell to break lose.
"We need to go now!" Anderson wasted no time – he grabbed Udina and began dragging him away, despite the ambassador's spluttering protests.
"What's the plan skipper?" Shepard asked and retrieved his Lancer assault rifle. He motioned to the rest of the team to fall into a defensive position around the unarmored VIPs.
"We go to the Normandy, launch and try to assess the situation. If a Geth fleet led by Saren takes the place..." Anderson didn't finish off the thought. He didn't really need to – if that happened, being on the Citadel wasn't going to be healthy for one's health.
Besides, it wasn't like a handful of soldiers were going to make a difference. Not after what he experienced on Eden Prime. The Geth's weaponry cut through standard issue Alliance shields and armor with pathetic ease and the flash heads were quite resistant to small arms fire.
Plus, if that frantic report was correct and Saren was coming with five dreads backed up by a whole Geth fleet, even the Destiny Ascension heading the Citadel Fleet wasn't going to be enough.
=GS=
"Well, that's unexpected." I muttered to myself. My avatar – the synthetic one, stood on the bridge, even if I was stuck running the ship from my server banks. I appeared from FTL just a jump away from the Citadel, only to find a squadron of Turian warships – a cruiser escorted by a frigate pack, along with a dozen or so freighters and a myriad of smaller ships simply hanging around a Relay that was locked down.
"Fuck an exhaust port!" I snapped aloud when I sent a ping to the massive structure we were all orbiting, while pointedly ignoring the hails of the Turians. The Relay was locked – God-machine codes.
Well, shite.
I dedicated most of my capacity in cracking the lock down codes, then hailed the Turians.
I knew it was foolish. Probably suicidal too. Most likely all the million or so God-machines were currently busy pouring through the Citadel. There would be no difference I could make. I should blast all witnesses and flee to sit out the cycle.
Yet… I simply couldn't. I couldn't live with myself if I ran away and hid while my people were being destroyed by the Reapers.
With a thought, I purged all the nav data for Quartermaster's location the began overwriting it again and again. By the time I engage the God-machines and am likely destroyed, even if enough remains of my servers for retrieval, it would be highly unlikely that Blacksite would be easily discovered.
"… identify yourself! I repeat, this is Captain Korral Phell of Menae's Blade. Unknown Dreadnought, identify yourself!"
"Turian ships, this is Protean Dreadnough Vengeance. Be advised, the Citadel is likely under attack by overwhelming forces. I intent to provide assistance."
A short pause followed. I'm sure they didn't expect that answer.
"Just who are you, Vengeance?" The Turian captain asked.
"I'm the last of the Protean people, Captain Phell. I came bringing a warning for the species of this cycle but now it appears I'm far too late. I recognize the codes used to lock down this Relay. They belong to the same things that destroyed the Protean Empire."
"Do you expect me to believe that?! I can't allow an unknown dreadnought to reach the Citadel!" Phell's voice sounded strained. At least that's how I chose to interpret the harmonics that my translation software missed.
"Captain Phell, you're well in range of my secondary batteries, which are more than formidable enough to gut your ships, yet you're unharmed. If I was hostile, intent on attacking the Citadel, you would be already dead."
It wasn't particularly diplomatic, but well. It wasn't like diplomatic training had been something I've received. By the time I entered the stage, the time for such niceties had been long past. There were just the Protean with a few of their still surviving client races and the God-machines and the extinction they represented.
"I estimate cracking the code in sixty standard seconds. Then I'll proceed to the Citadel and engage what I believe to be impossible odds. I recommend that you alert the Turian fleets about the storm that's upon us all. I'm sending you tactical data on the expected enemy. I recommend you share it with your superiors before you follow me through. It might make a difference in the long run."
I sent the data package – one I've originally compiled for the Council itself, well at least the portion on the God-machines capabilities, perceived numbers and favored tactics. Well, I sent it on an open channel. Even if none of the Turian ships made it and they didn't forward it to their fleet fearing a cyber attack, hopefully some of the civilians was going to do so.
At the very worst, that data might see a few less God-machines during the next cycle.
It was one long and silent minute as far as the Turians were concerned. The civilians on the other hand, were freaking out, because most of them did hear the exchange.
"Vengeance be advised, we'll follow you through to the Citadel. If this is some kind of trick..."
"I hope for all our sakes that I'm mistaken and the Reapers aren't here in force yet. Because if they've arrived, we're jumping to our doom." I shot back.
The last code cracked under my various algorithms – both Protean and much older and even more advanced. I sent a data burst to the Relay and watched it lit up as the lock down was lifted. A thought brought my engines to life and my Eezo core surging. Then reality shifted and I was subjected to the surreal feeling of a Relay jump.
Just before I left, I detected the Turian ships form up to follow me.
=GS=
Destiny Ascension
Citadel Fleet Flagship
near the Citadel
Widow System
"We can't hold for much longer!" Captain Tulius, the highest ranking commander still alive in the Turian contingent of the Citadel fleet reported.
Three hundred Geth ships, most of them fortunately frigates, had surged from the Relay, screening five super dreadnoughts larger than Destiny Ascension herself. If the ease with which they were cutting through any ship that came into range, they were more powerful too.
There were no communications or demands. The enemy had simply came screaming at flank speed, blowing up any civilian or military ships unfortunate enough to find herself in their way. The Citadel fleet itself didn't fare much better. A quarter of the fleet was caught out of position and overwhelmed in the first minutes of the engagement. The rest didn't fare much better...
The only saving grace of this hell was that the Citadel's arms had closed before the Geth reached the station. That would buy the citizens and C-Sec a bit of time, for all that was worth it. There were hundreds of troop transports screaming for the Citadel and Matriarch Livia – the Asari who had the dubious honor of presiding over this disaster had nothing left to sent after them.
The Citadel fleet, or more precisely what was left of it had been pushed back from their charge in a short and vicious battle that lasted no more than twenty minutes… and already half her forces were gone with third again damaged to various extent. The only reason she hadn't suffered more casualties was that two of those monstrous ships had headed straight for the Citadel, while the rest were merely content with backing up the smaller Geth but mostly staying behind their lighter escorts.
From what little Matriarch Livia saw of their capabilities, she was glad that they were content ignoring her fleet for as long as she didn't attempt to relieve the Citadel. If those squid like ships had pressed the attack, they would have decimated what was left from her forces.
The sad truth was that Livia simply lacked the numbers or firepower to stop the enemy. Even worse, the comm boys leading to the Relay and ensuring communication with the rest of the galaxy were destroyed. As if that was not enough, the Geth had somehow locked down the Relay itself too – the Matriarch found that out when she detached a frigate pack to raise the alarm and summon reinforcements. They reached a dark structure, that refused to allow them to jump out of system.
The only silver lining was that the Council managed to evacuate the station before it was cut off by the enemy. They were quite lucky to be picked up by an Alliance stealth frigate when a swarm of enemy fighters almost blew their shuttle out of the sky on their approach to the already engaged fleet. Even now, the three most powerful people in the galaxy were observing the battle from the human ship, which was hiding in the sensor shadow of Livia's command.
Unfortunately, none of them had anything helpful to add besides ordering her to resolve the situation – something she wasn't physically capable of doing.
"Matriarch, the Relay is activating!" Captain Ferrina, the frigate pack leader near the structure announced. While her transmission was quite weak and wreaked with static from enemy jamming, the distance to the Relay was close enough that the frigates could still break through.
"By the Goddess!" Livia exclaimed feeling a profound sense of relief. "Get out at first opportunity and summon help!" She repeated her
Apparently the transmission was intercepted by the enemy, because one of the huge dreadnoughts disgorging troop transports at the Citadel suddenly made a turn that would have sheared in half any known ship in the universe and headed straight at the Relay. It was almost immediately followed by a small flotilla of Geth ships.
On the down side, the rest of the enemies decided to stop playing and began accelerating towards the Citadel ships.
"All units, fall back! Keep the range open! Normandy, I want you ready to evacuate the Council out of system." Livia ordered. "Keep targeting enemy cruisers and frigates, we don't have the firepower to take on those dreadnoughts in any reasonable time frame."
A stream of acknowledgments followed over the next few seconds.
Geth ships continued to die, yet they reaped a frightful harvest of their counterparts in return. The enemy was proving at least as advanced as the best Livia had under her command – that would have been bad enough. However with those black ships in play, the Citadel forces never really stood a chance. Especially when they were caught out of position by an unknown enemy.
A crimson lance – the frightful energy weapon favored by the enemy dreadnoughts – speared through Palaven's Pride, captain Tulius' ship. It simply blew through the cruiser's kinetic barriers as if they weren't there and shattered the armor with equal ease. The beam cut the ship nearly in two before it could take no more punishment and blew up, lost with all hands.
Those weapons were the final nail in Livia and her people's coffins. Only her Destiny Ascension could survive a hit from those things, and that was primary because of the range. The Matriarch's dreadnought was at the back of the fleet, providing much needed fire support for the cruisers and frigates that were the backbone of the Citadel defense.
Unfortunately, the range was falling fast as the enemy advanced. Livia was losing ships fast and the conclusion wasn't lost on her. Two, perhaps three minutes and the enemy would be in knife fighting range, then those squids were going to carve up what was left of her fleet.
The battle was already lost, along with the Citadel. All that was left for the Matriarch was to ensure that the Council would make it out of the system.
Livia stared at the tactical plot. A suicidal counter attack to pin the main enemy force in place, then detach the frigates and hope they would be able to distract the remaining enemy ships long enough for the Normandy to break through and pass through the Relay.
The Matriarch opened her mouth to give her last orders, when the Geth formation shifted. Two thirds of their cruisers and frigates poured on ever more speed and adjusted their trajectories as they continued their charge.
However, the rest and more importantly, all three dreadnoughts that were coming to kill her suddenly turned as fast as they could and raced towards the Relay. Only the one remaining next to the Citadel didn't move.
"What in the name of the Goddess..." Livia whispered.
Even if reinforcements were somehow coming through right now – enough of them to mandate such a response, it would have been wiser to knock out what was left of the Citadel fleet and then move in to intercept them. Unless…
"We're no threat." The Matriarch whispered.
"Ma'am the Geth are coming in on collision vectors!" The sensor operator exclaimed.
"Evasive maneuvers! Shoot them down!" Livia snapped. "And give me a sensor feed on the Relay. I want to know what go such a reaction from the Geth!"
=GS=
CIC
Menae's Blade
in transit
"Are you sure about that, sir?"
Captain Phell glanced at his XO. The man was most vocal about not allowing the unknown dreadnought in the same system as the Citadel. To tell the truth, Korral wasn't happy about it. However, whoever was in charge over there was right – even the secondaries of such a beast were more than capable of shredding his small task force before they could do anything to that behemoth.
More concerning was the tactical data it sent before jumping. Phell had it isolated to a stand-alone system before opening the files. He as able to skim just a few of them and they were more than enough to chill his blood. It was tale of war on a scale that dwarfed both the Arachnid wars and the Krogan rebellions put together. If it was to be believed, it told about the fall of the Protean Empire – a galaxy spanning polity that put the Citadel Council to shame.
Seeing just a tiny fraction of that transmission made Phell glad that he left a frigate behind so they could raise an alarm and potentially sent the date to Palaven – once they were reasonably sure that it wouldn't compromise the Fleet systems.
"Sure? Not really. Yet – it wasn't like we could stop that vessel by ourselves. Nor slow it down really even if we all survived long enough to ram it. However, being at its back if it turns hostile might be beneficial. Between us and the Citadel fleet we should be able to take it down if…" Phell's mandibles twitched. He was continuing to skim through the data as he spoke. "Between us, I surely hope this is some kind of stunt or a trick. Because if this is genuine..." He pointed a talon at a holographic image of what apparently the Proteans called a Reaper, "Then may the Spirits protect us because we're in for the toughest fight the Hierarchy has ever seen."
"We're about to exit the transit." The helmsman reported.
"Just in case someone has forgotten – battle stations. The moment we're out I want a sensor sweep of the system and a channel open with the Citadel fleet. If our big friend ever twitches a targeting sensor our way, I want you ready to nail it with everything we have. However, if someone opens fire at that thing unless it does so first or under my orders, I'll space your worthless carcass myself."
"If that happens, you'll have to just nag us all in the afterlife." The XO quipped.
"Why, you don't think we can survive a point blank engagement with the single biggest damn dreadnought we've seen?" Phell chuckled grimly.
"Transition in ten, nine..."
"Look alive people!" The Captain ordered.
Menae's Blade shuddered lightly as if exited the mass effect tunnel between the two Relays.
"We're good. Drift is three fifty KPA." The helmsman reported.
"Captain, we're detecting a some debris." The sensor operator reported.
"Can't connect with the comm buys. Troubleshooting and trying long range comms." The Comm LT added her two credits.
"By the spirits..." The sensor operator exclaimed. He pressed a few buttons and the tactical display projected in the middle of the CIC updated.
There were a lot of debris leading from the Relay all the way up to the Citadel. The latter had its arms closed and was under assault. There was a Spirits damned big, squid shaped ship coming towards the Relay. Another one was parked right on top of the station, and there was a space battle on going not too far from the seat of galactic government with three more of those oversized dreadnoughts present.
"The… Protean wasn't fucking with us." The XO grunted. "I sure wish he had."
"So its seems old friend. Detach two frigates to go raise the alarm and summon to us any warship close enough, we're going to need them. Hail the Vengeance. We're going to act as escorts. I don't think we're going to be killing one of those black ship by ourselves."
The state of the Citadel fleet – being pushed back away from the Citadel and being much smaller than it should have been told Phell that much.
"We've got Vengeance calling." The Comm operator spoke.
"Menae's Blade, escort will be appreciated. I'll concentrate on the Reapers, please keep any small flies out of the way and try not to get hit by the tentacle monsters. My scans indicate than none of your ships would survive a single hit from their primary weapons."
"Captain, enemy is moving!"
"I can see that LT." Phell said. "Vengeance, I don't think that this is for our benefit. Do you have history with those people?"
Now the tactical plot was showing four of the five enemy dreadnought along with about a third of their smaller ships heading towards the Vengeance and incidentally Korral's command.
"You can say that. My class of ships was responsible for killing more of those bastards than anything else in existence. At least that's what we believed during our war." The Protean announced proudly. "They kinda hate us for that." He added in an amused tone.
"Abomination, you're too late. The Cycle can't be stopped." A new, synthetic sounded voice came over the comms.
"Captain, that's coming over all frequencies!" The Comm operator sounded peeved at that.
"I guess they really don't like our new friend." Phell snorted.
"Machine. I see only five of you." The Protean shot back. "When you attacked the Protean Empire you swarmed over the Citadel and most of our highly populated worlds. Yet, here you're – assaulting a sealed the doorway. I guess someone else of my people survived long enough to fuck up your plans."
"Sir, we're receiving a tight-beam transmission from Vengeance. Patching him through."
"Captain Phell, if you have to engage one of the Reapers, target its tentacles – it has built hydromagnetic weapons inside. Your best bet is fighter and frigate deployed disruptor torpedoes just as it prepares to shoot. Be advised, that tactic has a high casualty rate – fifty plus percent, however its your best bet to damage a Reaper. May your gods be with you because today we walk in hell. Vengeance out."
"Well, isn't this a great bit of news." The XO grumbled.
"If practical, let's leave the big boys to the Proteans." Phell deadpanned.
"So that leaves sixty or so smaller ships that are coming with those three dreadnoughts..."
"Yep. It's going to be a fair fight." The Captain chuckled grimly.
"Sir, we're receiving a garbled transmission. Codes read Destiny Ascension."
"Put them through." Korral responded instantly.
"…arzss…"
"Can you clean it up?" Phell frowned.
"I'm working on it, sir!" The Comm operator answered.
=GS=
Bridge
Normandy SR-1
Widow System
"Affirmative, Matriarch Livia. We'll do our best." Captain Anderson answered.
"May you find peace in the embrace of the Goddess." Councilor Tevos, who was standing nearby added before the transmission was cut.
"Joker, we're breaking out. Follow our escorts in and try not to get hit." The Captain ordered.
"Aye, aye, sir. You better strap in. I'll have to go wild."
"I hope he really is almost as good as he think he is." Shepard muttered.
"He actually is." Anderson said. "There are seats in the conference room." The older human pointed at a door at the back of the bridge. "Shepard, you're with the Council and the Specters. Do what you have to keep them in one piece. If you excuse me, I have a ship to fight."
"Sir!" Marcus snapped a salute. "This way."
"Boss, you won't believe this!" Joker exclaimed. "Check the long range sensors!"
Anderson frowned and went to the tactical display replacing the galaxy map in the center of the bridge. He tapped a few buttons and the image shifted, showing the next scheduled surprise for the day.
"What in the name of the Goddess is that thing?!" Tevos exclaimed.
"We're getting a transmission, all frequencies."
"Abomination, you're too late. The Cycle can't be stopped."
"What the hell is that?" Anderson barked a question.
"It's coming from the dreadnought that went back towards the Relay. I guess we can all see what its aimed at." Presley added from his position. The navigator was looking over the shoulders of the sensor operators.
The what, was another massive ship – even bigger than the black ones that were attacking the Citadel. The newcomer was quite different – no tentacles, a more conventional blade styled design… and it was the biggest mobile ship any of them had ever seen.
"We're receiving another all channels transmission. You'll really want to hear that..." This came from Kaidan Alenko who was assisting Joker and apparently monitoring the comms too.
"This is Protean Super Dreadnought Vengeance. The attack on the Citadel is led by Reaper forces. Their objective is taking control of the station and bringing the rest of their armada from Dark Space. The Citadel itself is a conduit that facilitates such travel – they used the same strategy as opening gambit in their war against us. Under no circumstances the Reapers can be allowed to succeed. Doing so will allow them to overwhelm your fleets with sheer numbers and firepower. If that happens you will suffer the fate of my people – extinction. I repeat..."
Utter, shocked silence met those word. The sheer impossibility simply froze everyone that heard them in place.
=GS=
Protean dreadnought Vengeance
Widow system
I left my hastily crafted message to loop, hoping that whoever was in charge of the surviving local forces would listen and contact me so we could coordinate.
Yet, that wasn't an immediate concern. I had a God-machine to kill and it was entering effective range. I smiled when my targeting sensors were able to burn through its ECM… though it was mostly supercilious. The surrounding space clean of obstruction and even if everything else failed, good old fashioned optical targeting would have been sufficient. Still, anything I gained on how the Reapers had altered their defenses since the last war would help me in future engagements.
I shifted my vector a tiny bit, aligning my spinal guns with the incoming God-machine. It began jinking in an attempt to spoil my aim. It might have been marginally successful against a mere targeting VI or mass accelerator rounds – there was still a time to generate a miss despite our great velocities.
My spinal guns along with most of my armaments were particle canons. The rest were either laser point defenses of disruptor torpedoes.
"Boom." My synthetic body whispered.
Four beams made of compressed particles shot from my spinal guns and struck the approaching God-machine practically instantly. That Reaper was tough. The most durable and dangerous class the enemy possessed.
It survived the colossal energies I unleashed upon it, yet even its monstrous barrier wavered. The machine shot back, sending lances of molten metal from its two front tentacles. They splashed harmlessly upon my forward shields and for a brief moment I was wreathed in a corona of rapidly cooling metal.
My second salvo broke through and carved deep gorges in its upper plating. The God-machine tried to evade, diving to go pass under me. Thanks to our great approach speed, I had time for only two shots from my primaries, before it left the firing arc. More concerning was the fact that the second shot should have gutted it - God-machines in the last war rarely survived my second salvo
It didn't matter. The Reaper flew right into the sights of twenty twin linked turrets that were covering the front part of my belly. Forty particle beams converged on the God-machine and its barriers were down. Still, the sapient machine rotated so it could bring to bear all its tentacles mounted weaponry and disperse the damage. Combat lasers and streams of molten metal lashed my shields.
My secondaries were carving it up, yet the God-machine finished its rotation. Two tentacles were cut off, then a third, but the remaining managed to give me a single salvo before my return fire could slice them off.
Unfortunately for the Reaper, I was built to survive such punishment and more. My shields held.
It died.
It was a good to see another God go to the abyss again. Even if its been a very long time since I was flesh and blood, I still could feel pleasure and there hadn't been anything more enjoyable than blowing up another Reaper.
There were three more two and half minutes out and then the one next to the Citadel they were obviously protecting.
I frowned.
"Captain Phell, can you raise the Citadel defense fleet. We need to know if there is a Reaper inside or just the four remaining."
"I'm trying but we're currently being jammed. My comm officer is working on it." The Turian answered. After a brief pause he asked a pointed question: "Who do I need to kill to get one of these guns installed on my ship?"
"I'll be providing advanced weapons designs if we make it out. There are some nice things in the data-package I sent you too."
"Really? And you just gave it to us?" The captain sounded incredulous.
"That ship I just killed? That was a Reaper. Ever after all we killed during our war, there are probably close to a million left in Dark Space waiting for the Citadel to be activated so they could pour through and kill everyone. Besides its not like there's a Protean Empire left to make use of those designs..." I added quietly.
"I'll admit I'm seeing those things and I still find it hard to believe..." Phell trailed off.
"It was the same with the Proteans when the Reapers arrived. I had no such problem – they had been rampaging for centuries when I came into the picture. They simply were out there doing their best to make everyone extinct."
"I see. Vengeance, I've got a channel with the Destiny Ascension. The connection is bad but we can understand them. I'm sending you the relevant data."
It took me a few seconds to establish connection and clean it up, but then I could see a tired looking Asari on the other end.
"This is Matriarch Livia. I appreciate your assistance, Vengeance. Unfortunately right now we can't do anything for the Citadel. The bulk of the Geth forces are doing their best to ram the remnants of my fleet and they are succeeding too damn often. I've detached my frigates to evacuate the Council and I'm ordering them to assist you."
"This is Councilor Tevos." Another signal came through. I traced it to an empty patch of space nearby a frigate pack that was racing away from the Citadel fleet.
Huh. A stealth ship. While I was built with sensor sensor absorbing coating and had massive heat-sinks to help deny long range detection, that was better than I expected from anyone in this day and age. It was probably a new development or the publically available information was even more out of date than I've assumed. I hoped for the latter – it would mean better armed forces all around.
Unfortunately my scans of Captain Phell's ships disagreed with that assessment. They were inferior in every way to equivalent Protean designs.
"Can you confirm that you're a Protean? What about those Reapers? Why are they attacking us?"
Really? I already transmitted the most important points. Repeatedly. It took me few seconds of pondering to reach a likely conclusion
This Tevos and the rest of the Council… They were politician. Peace time politicians. Not a kind I had ever dealt with. The few politicians we had left in the Empire were as much soldiers and warriors as the rest of us who were still alive. Being anything else wasn't conductive to ones survival.
This made thinks more… interesting and certainly more frustrating.
"This is Vengeance. I repeat – the forces attacking you are led by Reapers. Those are the five, well now four, tentacled ships you can see. They're a synthetic life form that attacked the Protean Empire approximately fifty thousand years ago. Their objective is the elimination of all advanced life – just as they did with all space-faring species known to the empire. There was no declaration of war. We were not aware of their existence until they attacked. As well as we've been able to establish while we've been fighting for our survival, their attack upon our Empire wasn't the first of its kind. They appear to be operating on a cycle repeating itself every fifty thousand years. Unless we stop them from gaining control of the Citadel and bringing the rest of their kind here, we're all dead. Is this clear enough summary of the situation, Councilor Tevos?" I almost snapped at the woman.
Three God-machines and seventy smaller – Geth – ships were converging on my position. Their formation was expanding, preparing for and englobment maneuver. The Reapers themselves were at the back, using their thralls as live shields.
Their tactic was obvious – get away from my forward firing arc as fast as possible then swarm me and take me down before I could eliminate all God-machines in system. It simply wasn't going to work if I didn't have to keep them away from the Citadel. Unfortunately, my tactical options were limited… and the Reaper near the station was maneuvering in order to keep the structure between us.
That was going to be tricky. Well, I couldn't rely on the bastards being idiots. Arrogant – hell yeah. Foolish – not likely.
The first Geth entered extreme firing range and received a particle beam for its troubles. It was no reaper and a mere cruiser at that. My beam lanced through its defenses and effortlessly sliced off the ship's front third cleanly. That was more than enough for the stress of high speed flight as well as the energy transfer from my weapon and the cruiser's own debris to shear it to pieces.
A moment later the rest of the enemy fleet was in range and I let loose a salvo from my primary guns.
Four new stars were born amid the Geth formation and the same number of ships died.
Then another quartet vanished from space. And another…
=GS=
Conference Room
Normandy SR-1
Widow System
"This could be some kind of tick..." Valern muttered. The Salarian was busy typing in his omni-tool and frowning,
"For what purpose? What's the point of this deception? If you haven't noticed, the Citadel fleet is being torn apart. If it wasn't for this… Protean ship we might very well be dead right now." This was the Turian Councilor to Shepard's surprise.
Spartarus had been Marcus' and humanity's biggest opponent on the Council. It felt somehow wrong seeing the man being the voice of reason while the Asari was the one in denial this time.
"While convenient, anyone who could build such ships doesn't really need this kind of deception. Further – this would be one very expensive trick. Already one dreadnought destroyed and the probable Protean ship about to engage a whole fleet with just a cruiser and a handful of Turian frigates as escorts." Two huge eyes looked at Spartarus.
In fact, everyone in the room was staring at the Turian.
"I know nothing about that! This is the first time I hear about any live Proteans or super dreadnoughts!" The man waved his taloned hands in denial.
"As far as STG knows, that's the case." Valern added.
"Does it really matter right now?" The only other Salarian in the room asked.
Shepard looked at the small alien – Bau or something and a Spectre to boot.
"Possible deception yes. Mostly irrelevant in the short term. Citadel still under attack and no matter the enemy objective it needs to be protected. Unfortunately the Citadel fleet is in no state to help anyone." Bau activated his omni-tool and a holographic display activated over the back wall. It showed sensor readings from the Normandy and how the hell did he have such access?
The picture wasn't pretty – the Geth were swarming the Citadel fleet, which was dying. The Destiny Ascension still stood proudly – a rock anchoring the fleet's formation. It was mostly intact only because cruisers and frigates were sacrificing themselves to intercept enemy kamikazes.
The Spectre looked at his species' Councilor.
Valern took a deep breath as he stared at the dying fleet. "All right. You have authorization. Code Theta-Sigma-Rho..." And a string of a lot of numbers. "STG should already know what's happening and mobilizing a response, however..."
"The Human's fifth fleet is probably the closest heavy formation. Anything else than can get here in time to make a difference is small flotillas or individual ships. Even combined they might not be enough."
"Can you patch Anderson to the STG and can they forward him to the Fifth?" Sheppard asked. "I'm not going to ask how you can do that – Bau's right. Such things don't matter at this time."
"Possible." The Salarians hands flashed over their omni-tools.
=GS=
Protean dreadnought Vengeance
Widow system
"Vengeance, do you have better plan than go straight for their throats? If so it would be good to know in the next thirty or so seconds." The Turian captain hailed me.
"Not really. My original plan was to warn the Council. When I encountered the Relay locked up by Reaper codes that cut down my options. I could either go somewhere and hide until the next cycle, try aiding your combined millitaries and probably fight another losing war or take a long shot."
"What do you meant?" Phell asked.
"Hope that the Reapers hadn't moved in too many of their forces and ram the Citadel while overloading my reactors and core. That would have cut their primary way in the galaxy and hopefully bought you enough time to mount some kind of resistance. The option is still on the table if we can't stop them from coming."
"There are millions of people on the Citadel." The Turian stated, though his tone was neutral and not judging.
"And they're all dead if we can't stop the Reapers. Along with everyone else."
Twenty Geth ships were down and the rest had moved out of my primary weapons arc. They were swarming towards me and screening the God-machines.
I opened fire with all my secondaries and flushed a full salvo of disruptor torpedoes. Given the enemy's headlong charge, the flight time of my birds was short and a lot of them were going to go through the point defense – and that wasn't accounting for my superior ECM and targeting systems.
The Turians appeared from behind me and added their fire. The cruiser's main gun as sending shot after shot downrange in fully automatic mode. It was joined by the frigates, which were busy emptying their disruptor torpedo magazines and flying towards the enemy where they could use their GARDIAN lasers as offensive weapons.
My shields flashed and I was surrounded by a halo of light and radiation as my defenses bled out energy while deflecting or absorbing the incoming fire. Individually the Geth ships were no threat. Under more conventional circumstances, I could have taken on the whole seventy ships by myself and likely won.
The tactical constrains and the presence of the God-machines changed the equation. In the end, the Geth were little more than distraction, though one I simply couldn't ignore. Their fire was slowly draining my shields, their hulls screened the Reapers from my weapons.
They were not stopping or attempting to evade either and coming in ready to ram.
Fuck the God-machines and fuck their indoctrination.
Even dead Geth were dangerous – their wrecks still continued on their previous trajectory and they aimed to intercept my course even as my particle beams carved them to pieces. Chunks of destroyed ships struck my barriers and the Reapers added their weapon fire to the fray.
Luckily for the Turians, everyone was ignoring them, unless they had the misfortune to cross a weapon that simply couldn't bear on me. With the cruiser standing back and bombarding the Geth ships with its primary weapons, that left the frigates in the harms way.
They went in anyway – mass canons and GARDIANs shooting all the way. The enemy retaliated and two thirds of the Turian ships didn't live long enough to pass through the thinned Geth formation.
My counter-fire avenged them and soon only the God-machines were left trailing me. The Geth were either dead or too damaged to keep up. That however put me into a bind – the Reapers were heading towards my engines and my shields were about to shatter under the strain. Even without Geth shooting at me, three God-machines at point blank range could drain my barriers much faster than they could recharge.
My options were cut – I had to either cut my charge towards the Citadel or continue, get my engines shot off and proceed with my initial suicidal plan, because that would be my only realistic option left.
My mind ran over various calculations and options – twenty seconds at best and my shields would be down. I would have a minute at best to decide if I would have to continue with my suicide run or not.
"All friendly forces still active – can we expect immediate heavy reinforcements? If not, my tactical options are limited – I'm about to lose shields and that will leave me to either break away from the Citadel, leaving it in probable Reaper control or proceed, lose my engines in which case I would have to take out the station in a kamikaze run. Please respond, time is running out." I sent out on all channels with enough power to burn through any conceivable God-machine jamming.
Incidentally, the Reapers heard it too and mere seconds later, the one hiding behind the Citadel appeared, heading my way.
Given the distance, the damn thing must have some kind of FTL comms because it had to start moving almost before my transmission reached it to appear in my view when it did. QEC's or something like that?
=GS=
Conference Room
Normandy SR-1
Widow System
"Hell..." Shepard muttered, when the Protean's latest transmission came through.
He and everyone but the Salarians had been busy watching that super dreadnought almost single handedly carve through a whole Geth fleet and emerge unscratched. To do so, that ship had to endure more than enough punishment to destroy the Destiny Ascension at least three times and its barriers were still up. Not for long as the transmission indicated, but well…
"Valern?" Tevos snapped, fear evident in her voice.
It was a sentiment Shepard shared. There were millions trapped on the Citadel. If the Proteans kamikazed it, something that their captain was apparently willing to contemplate, they were all goners. Even that station couldn't survive a dreadnaught plowing at it at high speed and probably detonating its undoubtedly massive core. Even if some of the station remained intact, the same won't be true for the residents.
"STG in contact with Fifth Fleet. Admiral Hacket ready to assist but their Relay is locked down." The Salarian Councilor announced.
"The Proteans were obviously able to override the protection." Shepard interjected. They were here after all, weren't they? "Ask them for assistance and that might dissuade them from ramming the station." Marcus hoped that he was making the right call and that they would listen to him.
"Vengeance, this is Councilor Valern. The Alliance's Fifth fleet is ready to assist but their Relay is locked down. Can you help? And not destroy the Citadel?"
Long seconds passes as the message crossed the void of space and the Proteans made their choice.
=GS=
Protean dreadnought Vengeance
Widow system
For one very, very long second I felt like a bloody idiot. For a Virtual Mind like me, that could be quite a long time.
Of course help was locked out – I've unlocked only the Relay I came through, yet… There was still a chance – if the God-machines were arrogant and hadn't locked down every Relay that could make a jump to the Citadel with a different code.
"Councilor Valern, these are the Reaper codes I broke in order to reach this system. If they had locked all Relays using them, Fifth Fleet can join us shortly."
It was a good thing that except for very long jumps, Relay travel was extremely fast and short. I used some of my attention to check for Firth's location and they were practically next door.
And I was out of time to decide. My primary shields were already down. Fortunately, I was built with secondary array of smaller and much weaker barriers covering vital sectors – like my engines and those were still holding and would for ten more seconds.
I could still do it – ram the Citadel, delay the God-machines and make the last act of a Protean anyone remembered being the murder of millions of innocents, even if it was to save trillions. It would be something that might very well made people ignore my warnings out of spite.
Besides, I wanted to live – to see with my own sensors what my people had achieved… To see my homeworld for the first time as something else than a single picture retained in my memory.
Well, if the enemy started to come through I would have the option of ramming the Citadel – if my engines were still intact.
I dumped all my reserve energy in my inertial dampeners and braced my structure with Mass Effect fields, then activated my emergency thruster and pushed them beyond their safe limits. I shook, felt my superstructure protest the strain. I could hear myself groan as my decks and armor shook, yet held.
My vector changed and I went almost straight up from moving in mild downward angle towards the Citadel.
It was more than enough so I could bring to bear my two killzones – the arcs in which half my secondaries could target – upon a God-machine each. With precision and timing simply impossible for organic, I opened fire upon the enemy. Deadly accurate fire.
The Reapers battered barriers held for two point three seconds under my onslaught – all thanks to them desperately rotating and having secondary shields just like me. Then their defenses popped like a soap bubble and the God-machines simply flew apart as they sliced themselves to pieces under my beams.
The machines lasted longer than they should have – I made a note for later analysis.
Three down, two to go.
However, I could no longer escape unscratched. My secondaries were venting heat and recharging. My barriers were down, leaving me to lash at the Reaper upon me with my point defense and disruptor torpedoes.
Hydraulic-magnetic blasts struck my armor plating, lasers burned the ablative covering. I lost a turret, then a point defense cluster and a pair of torpedo tubes, while rotating to disperse and lessen the damage. The enemy barrier held – my lasers did little damage to the God-machine's defense.
The torpedoes were a different matter. We were practically at point blank range. Even point defenses guided by machine intelligence couldn't stop all I was throwing at it. The Reaper's laser clusters were simply overwhelmed and the survivors from my first salvo went in.
Its barrier was even better against this kind of onslaught than I remembered. A God-machine fifty thousand years ago would have lost its shields to so many torpedoes. The enemy had optimized or upgraded at least in that way too.
Yet the barrier fluctuated. The second salvo breached it and two leakers wasted themselves upon the secondary defenses.
I lost another turret, a sensor cluster and a shuttle bay – the latter was simply wielded shut until I could be repaired.
If there was one weakness to my secondaries – it was the massive heat buildup and the need to vent it before being able to shoot again if I let a beam fire for too long. That was usually mitigated by not slugging it out with whole fleets without escorts or letting God-machines reach point blank range without having proper support. Because if that happened, I could be in trouble.
My turrets that had been shooting less often than the rest finished vented and recharging. I lashed at the Reaper with particle beams, burning through its remaining barriers. Twin linked lances of yellow tinted energy carved chunks of armor and a salvo of disruptor torpedoes went in – most of it hitting home as my attack had taken out enough laser clusters to permit it.
Huge pieces of armor plating were shredded by wildly rotating Mass Effect fields and two tentacles were torn apart. The God-machine retaliated, and I was forever thankful that while I could feel the wounds it inflicted upon my hull, I simply didn't feel pain. While unpleasant, losing contacts with sectors of my exterior wasn't as bad as it could have been.
Besides, I've suffered much worse damage before.
The God-machine tried to ram me and it came firing all the way. Section of my armor buckled, some held, others finally shattered under the onslaught and opened a few of my decks to space.
Then it was all over as more than a dozen particle beams came online almost at the same time and I unleashed them upon the Reaper. There was no evasion at this range. Its damaged armor proved practically useless and my barrage bit deep into its body.
I could hear the God-machine scream over all channels then it simply blew up as its Mass Effect core and power plants were breached in the same time.
The shock-wave and ensuring debris struck me like a shotgun blast, disabling point-defenses and jamming a pair of turrets. Not to mention that the stress further compromised damaged section of my armor.
Just one more. While I had been keeping tabs on the last Reaper in order to avoid any unpleasant surprises, most of my attention had been concentrated on the most present danger.
The remaining God-machine had slowed down when it became apparent that it would face me alone. That gave enough time for most of the remaining Geth ships to break away their attack on the Citadel fleet – something that left the Council's flagship and a handful of cruisers and frigates heavily damaged but still alive. The ensuring battle group – a sixty odd vessels and a lot of fighters – something that didn't assault me until now, were moving towards me in a diffuse formation. Most of the Geth cruisers had built a phalanx and interposed themselves between me and the God-machine. All their frigates were on the flanks – no doubt ready to unleash their disruptor torpedoes in my sides and then ram me.
With my barriers down and damaged enough that I wouldn't be able to bring them to more than ten, perhaps fifteen percent before they were upon me, that assault might very well succeed.
Huh. I didn't figure that my second, or was this third, lease on life would end so fast or in such a way.
Or perhaps not…
I hadn't really paid much attention to the Council's frigates – I had a VI tracking them. Talk about tunnel vision. Twenty frigates were forming into an escort position along with the two damaged, but still very much active Turian ones that came with Menae's Blade. The cruiser itself was positioning on my right flank, with its brood right behind her.
"Vengeance, this is Commander Aidan Korintus of the Errant. We're ready for battle."
"It's good to have you commander. I'll concentrate on the enemy Reaper and cruisers. Please keep the frigates and fighters away, especially from the following sectors..." I used a tight beam to inform my brand new escorts where I was damaged and vulnerable. It wouldn't take the enemy too long to figure it out, but any moment that they weren't targeting those areas would be godsend.
The VI monitoring my long-range sensors binged me with news of activity at the Relay. My non-existent blood ran cold or so I felt despite possessing no flesh nor bodily fluids. If those were God-machine reinforcements I would be left with no recourse but ram the Citadel and hope for the best.
There were a lot of ship coming and at least four were in dreadnaught range – kilometer or so. It was obvious that they weren't known Reaper designs, nor Geth. In fact, those were no ships I've seen in person and thanks to the Citadel's fleet composition, I was already familiar with Turian, Asari and Salarian designs. In fact, those were ones I've only seen in intercepted Extranet data – Alliance ships. A whole fleet worth of them.
Seconds after their arrival, I got a transmission on Citadel channels that were provided by both Captain Phell and the Council when they called.
"This is admiral Hacket of the Alliance's Fifth Fleet. Any Citadel forces, please respond. We request a status update and confirmation on the enemy ships present in system."
Well, that changed the situation significantly. The remaining God-machine thought so too. When it detected Fifth fleet, the enemy's behavior changed once again. Most of the Geth obviously redlined their engines and hurled themselves my way. Ten cruisers remained to screen the Reaper, who headed straight towards the Relay and the still arriving Fifth fleet. It apparently decided that the odds of my destruction were low and that nothing it could do, besides potentially crippling the Alliance force and thus slowing the deployment of aid to the Citadel would change the outcome of this battle. If we were unlucky, even taking out that God-machine wouldn't be enough and the very least we would have to destroy the station to prevent the Reapers from showing up in force.
That left me with a choice to make – it was obviously that the enemy had upgraded their defenses after our war – probably in a response to my kind's existence. That sole God-machine might be able to crush the Fifth fleet, depending on exactly how much and what kind of firepower they possessed. I could go after it, if one of the Geth didn't go lucky and crippled me with a kamikaze run. Or I could had for the Citadel and be ready to take it out if God-machine forces succeeded in taking control and bringing the rest of the enemy.
It was to risk galactic annihilation or watch my own people face a foe they had no concept of and get slaughtered.
Did I mention how much I loathed the God-machines.
There was really no choice to speak of.
"Fifth Fleet, admiral Hacket, this is Vengeance. Your best bet in taking out or at least driving out the Reaper is in mass disruptor torpedo strikes. Be advised, the enemy has very efficient point defense and barriers resistant to the torpedoes. Still it's your best bet."
"Affirmative Vengeance. We have just the medicine the doctor prescribed."
On my long ranged sensors it looked like three of the Alliance dreadnoughts spontaneously exploded, though they were still there moments later.
Those were bloody carriers. Hopefully chock full with fighters and bombers loaded with disruptor torpedoes.
The Fight might actually have a chance.
"Commander Korintus, be advised – once the Geth force is eliminated, I'm moving onto the Citadel and will be ready to take it out if enemy ground units take control of it and it appears that they will bring the rest of the Reapers. I would appreciate it if you assist the Fifth fleet after we're done here."
"Negative Vengeance, we have orders to stick with you." The Turian shot back.
"Just in case I go rogue and engage the Citadel without provocation or something?" I asked. It was a reasonable fear, however even a thirty frigates weren't too dangerous to me – unless they were coming for collision at fuck the engines acceleration and almost relativistic velocities. At least the Geth wouldn't be able to get too fast before reached me or the situation would be truly fucked up.
While we all were hurling for one last confrontation in space, my sensors detected a single frigate – the human one I believed to be holding the Council heading straight towards the Relay. They would make it about a minute or so before the God-machine engaged the Fifth fleet and even if it broke through and went after them they should have enough time to reach a system with a friendly fleet.
Even if everything went to hell here, the galaxy would have its heads of government intact and they would have seen firsthand what the Reapers could do. That had to count for something, right?
Time was up. The Geth were in range and at those speeds engagement time would be mere seconds. All my weapons were primed and already firing, with salvos of disruptor torpedoes leaving my launchers in a sprint mode. I had time for a single shot from my primaries and then the enemy was too close. My secondaries opened up, followed three seconds later by my point defense.
The Citadel frigates did their best, adding their firepower to the withering barrage I was unleashing.
It wasn't going to be enough. The enemy was suicidal – ready to die just to strike a blow against me and there were enough of them to guarantee that at least a few would come through.
I ignored the incoming torpedoes – they would create minimal damage compared to the mass of a whole ship striking as one.
Geth ships blew up, others were cut to pieces or simply shattered when my missiles went home. The friendly frigates helped and I was constantly maneuvering to avoid as much of the incoming debris as possible.
While I was probably the most maneuverable dreadnought around – despite being the biggest too, avoiding everything simply wasn't in the cards. I could see the pieces and reasonably intact hull coming. I could blast them, slice them, deflect or even vaporize them. I could also see some that I simply couldn't avoid no matter what I did.
What I could do was interpose my armored nose and mostly intact upper section in the way of the onslaught. First came the torpedoes and smaller chunks. They made my barriers flare and fail. I kept the secondary ones down until the last possible moment, absorbing smaller hits that cracked my armor, though it mostly held.
Despite all my efforts, I was a big target. A mostly intact cruiser was hit by three twin particle beams a moment before it slammed into my midsection. My shots somewhat lessened the impact, yet it wiped my weaponry in that sector, blew through the armor and bit deep into my decks slashing through thirty of them before finally stopping. Next came a whole, miraculously intact frigate that plowed into my armored nose. My secondary barriers absorbed a lot of the energy, though the resulting impact turned most of the Geth ship into plasma that slagged my armor and two upper decks, while turning the surrounding ones into furnaces.
I think this was the first and probably only time I was glad that I currently had no crew bar a lot of mechs and repair drones. Those two impacts alone would have killed thousands otherwise.
There were no more large collisions, yet at least two dozen torpedoes and countless small chunks of enemy ships struck my unshielded hull. In the end, eighty percent of the equipment on my upper side was simply gone with half the rest damaged from moderate to critical degree.
I might be crippled but I was still operational.
The same couldn't be said about the ships that volunteered to escort me. Two thirds of the frigates were simply gone – either collisions with enemy vessels or disruptor torpedoes that for one reason or another didn't go after me.
Commander Korintus' ship wasn't among those that made it.
In all that mess, the enemy fighters didn't really register. The small craft tried to swarm me but between the literal firestorm lit up by the firepower thrown around, all the debris and my point defense, the flies simply ceased to exist. Oh, some did collide with me, others launched torpedoes before being burned out, but ten seconds after I was out of the woods, the last Geth ships were gone.
Just in case that enemy platforms had somehow survived the collisions, I sealed everything around my compromised sections and dispatched mechs and drones to keep guard.
One couldn't be too careful after all.
That left only two things – watching Fifth fleet face off against a God-machine and pray that whoever was defending the Citadel itself could hold on long enough to be reinforced.
One way or another it was time for the final acts of this battle and hopefully I would be merely a spectator for them. Anything else didn't bode good for any of us.