Deep Space: An Epic Sci-Fi Romance Page 4

  Join? With this human?

  The thought alone was . . . deeply disturbing.

  I decided to set the issue aside and concentrate on safer questions. "Can you tell me what you did see, Commander?"

  "I can do better than that. Here, listen to this." He called up the console on his desk once more, and tapped a few keys.

  A voice spoke, male turian, cold and arrogant. Saren. "Eden Prime was a major victory! The beacon has brought us one step closer to finding the Conduit."

  Then I heard another voice, familiar and once loved, now sounding equally cold. Benezia. "And one step closer to the return of the Reapers."

  Reapers?

  "Your opinion, Doctor?"

  "I am not certain. I have seen a few references to something called the Conduit in fragmentary records, all of a very late period, contemporary with the Prothean extinction itself. The references are cryptic, and I have no guess as to their meaning. I have never heard the term Reapers."

  "I can help you with that last one. This is intelligence that we gathered from a geth memory core with the help of Tali'Zorah nar Rayya, the quarian you met earlier."

  I nodded in understanding.

  "The geth believe that the Reapers were an ancient race of synthetic life forms, highly advanced, who were responsible for the extinction of the Protheans. We think Benezia may be referring to a possible reappearance of these Reapers."

  I experienced a rather odd sensation, a kind of intellectual vertigo. A mental framework built out of a thousand familiar facts trembled, threatening to shift into a new configuration . . . or perhaps to collapse entirely. Scientists live for such moments. We also dread them.

  Reapers?

  “Forgive me, Commander, but that is a completely new hypothesis. I am at a loss to evaluate it. What evidence do you have?"

  "Not much, except for what little I was able to understand from the beacon." His eyes fell to the desktop, troubled, as he relived a difficult memory. "I saw synthetics. At the time I thought they were geth, but now I'm not so sure. They were slaughtering people. Butchering them. Killing whole worlds."

  I hesitated, reluctant to commit myself. "That is at least consistent with the physical evidence we have. The Protheans had a galaxy-wide empire. At their height they had explored and colonized many more worlds than our own civilizations have today. Yet they vanished quite abruptly. It's very difficult to imagine any natural event that could have caused their sudden extinction."

  "Consistent with the evidence is a long way from being proof," said Shepard.

  I did a double-take at him, as my estimate of his intelligence abruptly rose several levels. This soldier has hidden depths.

  "That's true,” I said aloud. “As far as I know, we have no physical evidence for the Reapers themselves. If they truly existed."

  “Maybe I should consider finding that evidence to be part of my mission.” Shepard nodded to himself, as if he had come to a sudden decision. "Dr. T'Soni, you began this conversation by asking what I planned to do with you."

  "Yes?"

  "I’m prepared to make you an offer. On my authority as a Spectre I've hired several civilians to support this mission, but all of them are combat or engineering specialists. We're going to need other areas of expertise as well, if we have any hope of getting to the bottom of this. Would you be interested in joining us as a scientific consultant?"

  I considered the idea for a moment. "At what rate of pay?"

  The thin fur-patches over his eyes rose, an expression of surprise.

  "Commander, I must still make a living."

  He grinned in appreciation. "I see your point. Let's say eight thousand credits per thirty-day pay cycle, along with room, board, equipment, plenty of opportunities to do good science, and the continued protection of the people who rescued you from Saren's geth in the first place."

  I smiled back at him. "When you put it that way, I can hardly refuse."

  "Where shall we put her, Commander?" asked Alenko. "Main crew quarters are full, and I don't think you want her bunking down with Wrex and the Marines."

  "There's a small space behind the medical bay that could easily be outfitted as a laboratory," said Dr. Chakwas. "We could rig a cot there for her."

  Shepard looked dubious.

  "That would be fine," I assured him. "Remember, I am an archaeologist, with years of experience in the field. I don't require luxury."

  "Good," he said. "We don't have any to offer."

  He extended his hand for me to grasp. Slowly I took it.

  "All right," he said briskly. "All of you are dismissed. We may have a galaxy to save, but the paperwork still has to get done."

  Chapter 6 : Sharjila

  3 March 2186, Sharjila

  I saw very little of Commander Shepard over the next few days.

  The Normandy spent that time patrolling the Artemis Tau cluster, searching for further signs of geth activity and finding almost nothing. The attack force on Therum vanished once I escaped. We found no evidence of other incursions. The enemy had apparently lost all interest in the cluster.

  Even so, all of us kept busy.

  One day Shepard took Lieutenant Alenko and another Marine down to the surface of a barren world, searching for clues to the fate of an Alliance unit that had vanished there. Upon their return, the crew mess buzzed with rumors that they had encountered – and killed – a thresher maw in the course of their mission. The story horrified me in retrospect, but Shepard's team had come back uninjured. Even the landing craft had escaped with barely a scratch.

  As we left the system the next day, Normandy's sensors detected a strange energy signature in the planetoid belt. An engineering team investigated, finding an abandoned habitat dome and an intact Prothean data module. As soon as they returned to the Normandy, Tali hurried to my workspace to present the device.

  Dr. Chakwas and I had not been idle. When I arrived on board, the small compartment behind the medical bay contained only some excess medical equipment. With the crew in good health, the doctor had plenty of time to help me move crates, set up a cot and desk, and create a working lab space. By the time Tali appeared with her prize, I was ready.

  I spent the next few hours painstakingly opening and scanning the Prothean artifact, with the quarian's help. I found Tali to be a very good assistant: young, but extremely bright and an expert technician. She possessed that rare mix of passionate curiosity and careful work habits that can be found in all the best researchers. Together we used our omni-tools to design and implement a new scanning subroutine, capable of decoding the module's storage media.

  In the end the device yielded very little new information, but I logged it and its contents with the Council's registry anyway, as the law required. I also wrote a short paper for the Transactions of the Society for Prothean Studies, giving Tali collaborative credit: Notes on the Recovery of a Third Age Data Storage Device in the Sparta Planetoid Belt, by L. T'Soni and T. Zorah. Competence should always be recognized.

  As it happened, I was just putting the final touches on that paper when the door to my compartment opened. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Shepard enter.

  "Commander, are you coming to check up on me?"

  "You do look much better," he smiled. "How are you feeling?"

  "Very well." I gestured around at my room. "I have all I need to be productive. Thank you."

  He looked around and nodded, clearly pleased.

  "I never properly thanked you for saving me from the geth, Commander. If you hadn't shown up . . ."

  "I'm just glad we got there in time."

  "So am I," I said sincerely. "I know you took a chance bringing me aboard this ship. I have seen the way your crew looks at me. They do not trust me."

  "Don't worry, Doctor. I trust you."

  "Why?"

  He made the surprise-gesture again with the patches of fur over his eyes – his eyebrows, I had learned they were called. "Pardon me?"

  "Why do you trust me? You hard
ly know me, Commander."

  He considered the question. "Well, logic tells me you're telling the truth, when you say you're not working with Saren. Besides, I'm a decent judge of character. I get the impression you don't lie very often and you're really bad at it when you do."

  I felt my face darken with embarrassment, proving his point. "I think I will take that as a compliment."

  "You should," he said, folding his arms and giving me a satisfied smile. "In any case, that isn't why I came to see you."

  "How may I help you, Commander?"

  "About an hour ago we dropped out of FTL in the Macedon system. Sensors don't show any sign of geth activity here. I would normally be inclined to spend a few hours on routine scans and then move on to the next stop on our patrol route."

  "But something has changed your mind."

  "Maybe," he admitted. "I just got a message from the Citadel, from an asari diplomat named Nassana Dantius."

  I frowned. "That name is familiar . . . ah, of course. I have heard of the Dantius lineage."

  "Lineage?"

  "A line of genetic inheritance, from mother to daughter across generations. We consider the maternal line of descent most important, since we directly inherit genes only from our mothers. An asari's second name is tied to her lineage. Like a family name for humans."

  He blinked, looking confused for a moment. "There are some aspects of asari culture I've never quite understood. Never mind. What do you know about the Dantius lineage?"

  "Only that they are a prominent lineage from Illium, very wealthy, with a reputation for unscrupulous conduct."

  "Interesting." He ran fingers over the stubble of hair on his chin. "Well, this Nassana Dantius claims one of her sisters has been captured by a gang of slavers, operating from a planet in this system. She's asked us to mount a rescue."

  "Have you corroborated her story?"

  "To some extent. There have been a lot of raids on outposts and merchant ships in this region of space in the last few months. Alliance Navy intel suggests Macedon as the most likely base of operations for the pirates."

  "It sounds like a worthy cause."

  "I agree, even if it's not part of our primary mission.” A dangerous note crept into his voice. “I do not like slavers."

  My eyes narrowed as I watched him. His face was set and grim, and his hands had balled into fists at his sides. There's a story behind this, I decided, and resolved to find out more.

  "I still do not understand why I'm involved, Commander," I said at last.

  "I'll be taking Kaidan to the surface of Sharjila to look into this. I'd like you to come as well."

  "As part of your combat team?" I reached up and fiddled nervously with my crest. "Commander, I've had a little combat training, but I'm not qualified. Surely one of your Marines would be a better choice?"

  "If all I wanted was combat experience, maybe so. But I know you can take care of yourself, you're a powerful biotic, and you're the only available expert on asari society. I think you'll do fine. Will you come?"

  I’m a scientist, not a soldier. Yet he is very difficult to refuse.

  "I . . . yes, Commander. I'd be glad to help."

  "Good." He smiled. "Come on. Let's go down to the staging deck and get you equipped."

  Since arriving aboard I had spent very little time on the staging deck. Lieutenant Alenko's Marines bunked there, along with Garrus Vakarian and a massive krogan named Urdnot Wrex. The Marines had an exercise room, a small recreation center, and other spaces where they could relax when not on duty. An armory served for the storage and maintenance of weapons and armor. Landing parties prepared for their missions in a nearby ready room. The deck also included the largest open space on the Normandy, the staging bay, where cargo and landing vehicles could be moved on or off the ship.

  In the armory I met a hard-faced young female Marine named Williams, who helped me select and put on armor. Since I am asari and therefore shaped almost exactly like a human female, we had no trouble finding something that fit well. We settled on a suit of light Aldrin Labs Onyx-Gamma armor, black and close-fitting, rather like the armor favored by asari commandos. Chief Williams reviewed the operation of the suit's systems with me, with careful attention to the kinetic barriers.

  For a sidearm I selected an Elkoss Combine military-grade pistol, similar to my personal weapon but more accurate and powerful. Chief Williams insisted I take it into the firing range for familiarization. I think she was surprised when I immediately placed five out of six rounds in the "expert" ring of the target.

  I suppose I should have felt appropriately martial as I stepped out into the staging bay in my new gear. Unfortunately all I felt was fear. Oh Goddess, these men are going to be relying on me. Please don't let me fail them.

  Shepard and Alenko already waited by the landing vehicle, which Shepard called the Mako. Both of them turned and watched as I approached. I caught a flicker of keen interest in Alenko's eyes, and suddenly wondered if he found the sight of me sexually appealing.

  Shepard, on the other hand, was expressionless and professional. "If you're ready, Doctor?"

  We clambered into the Mako through its side door. Shepard sat in the front on the left, taking the driver's position, while Alenko took the right-hand seat to control the weapons. I sat behind and slightly above them, an inactive haptic interface display within easy reach. I quickly settled into my seat and secured the safety harness.

  "Kaidan, do you think you can take the EWS display as well as the guns?" asked Shepard.

  Without being prompted, I activated the display in front of me and parsed through the available menus. Electronic Warfare Suite: laser detection grid, ground-penetrating radar, electronic countermeasures, kinetic barriers, and communications. All of it was at least somewhat familiar. "I can handle EWS," I told them.

  Shepard twisted in his seat to peer back at me in surprise. "Are you sure?"

  "I've used instruments like these before."

  They exchanged a glance, then Alenko shrugged, Shepard nodded, and they went back to their own preparations without another word. I allowed myself a small smile. Perhaps I can be of use after all.

  "Two minutes, Commander," came the pilot's voice over the shipboard channel.

  "Roger that," said Shepard.

  We waited. Then the staging bay door opened and the Mako was abruptly flung out into space.

  I emitted a small squeak of terror.

  "You all right back there, Doctor?" asked Shepard, never looking away from his controls and instruments. There was a low roar as the Mako's thrusters fired.

  "Fine, Commander." I kept my voice steady by sheer willpower.

  Merciful Goddess, I thought. These humans are insanely reckless!

  I distracted myself by checking my instruments and glancing at the exterior display. Sharjila seemed very inhospitable, its atmosphere dense and poisonous. High winds carried clouds of abrasive silica dust that reduced visibility and interfered with some of my sensors. The primary star loomed large on the horizon, flooding the plains and hills below us with reddish-orange light.

  "EWS, report."

  I glanced quickly across my displays. "All systems show green. ECM online. Kinetic barriers at full power. Detection grid shows no active sensors on us."

  We struck the surface, a hard jolt, and then the vehicle's suspension and inertial dampers softened the blow. Shepard immediately cut in the drive wheels and sent us bounding forward across the landscape.

  I should probably clarify something at this point. Legend has it that Shepard was supernaturally skilled at almost everything to which he turned his hand, with two major exceptions: dancing and piloting. I can attest that this is partially true. Shepard’s dancing was terrible, especially by asari standards. All the grace and confidence he carried on the battlefield simply vanished the moment he stepped out onto a dance floor.

  On the other hand he was a perfectly competent pilot. It's just that not even the most talented driver could make the Ma
ko graceful.

  It bounced. It wavered. It shook. It slewed from side to side. It collided with minor obstacles and recoiled. Occasionally it took to the air, slowly rotating around all three axes, always threatening to flip over without ever quite managing to do so. The inertial dampers meant that we felt very little of all this, but we could see it happening on the external monitors, to the detriment of my stomach.

  After ten minutes of this, I simply set my jaw and kept my eyes as far away from the external view as possible.

  "Picking up comms and sensor emissions from up ahead," I said at last, touching keys to send the bearing to Shepard's HUD.

  "That must be the slavers' stronghold," he agreed. "There's a terrain feature ahead and to the left that will let us get close without coming into their line of sight. Ready, Kaidan?"

  Alenko nodded, not looking away from his displays. "Let's go, Commander."

  Shepard accelerated toward a low hill on the horizon, then made a long, shallow turn to the left. The hill loomed ahead, then passed to our right . . .

  My display lit up. "Active radar signal. We've been detected."

  The slavers' fortress sat on a low rise, less than a kilometer away.

  "Sniper tower, dead ahead," reported Alenko. "Firing."

  The main gun fired with a loud boom.

  "Laser targeting detected," I reported. "Two more snipers at one o'clock and three o'clock. No sign of GARDIAN turrets."

  Boom. Boom. Then the coaxial gun fired, sounding like an enormous sheet of canvas being torn in half.

  "Turning right," snapped Shepard. "Traverse!"

  "On it," said Alenko.

  I saw we were taking minor damage. Possibly one of the snipers had hit us before the main gun obliterated him. "Kinetic barriers at eighty percent."

  Shepard continued his hard right turn as we crested the rise. We passed across the stronghold's south face at high speed, and then Shepard turned left again to approach the main entrance. "Infantry squad at ten o'clock!"

  "I see them," said Alenko. The coaxial gun hammered away, and then the main gun fired once more.