Mass Effect: The Complete Novels 4-Book Bundle (70 page)

“Whoever it is, they’ll be here any minute,” the turian warned. “The captain wants us to rally here by the lab. Keep our forces together and face the enemy as a single unit.”

“Understood,” Anderson said. “Where do you want us to set up?”

The turian shook his head. “You stay in here with the door locked until the battle’s over.”

“We both have combat training,” Kahlee protested. “We can help!”

“You don’t have body armor or combat suits,” the turian reminded her. “You don’t know our tactics. You’ll just get in the way.”

“He’s right,” Anderson said, cutting Kahlee off before she could object further.

He didn’t necessarily agree with the turian, but he knew that nothing was more disruptive to a fighting unit than individuals questioning orders.

“Can you at least spare some weapons just in case?” he asked.

The turian handed Anderson his assault rifle and pistol, then disappeared out the door. Anderson handed the pistol to Kahlee, hit the wall panel, and punched in the code to seal them inside.

He took a second to familiarize himself with the weapon: standard turian military issue. It was a good weapon, efficient and reliable … though if it got to the point where he had to use it, he suspected it would mean the battle had already been lost.

“Now what?” Kahlee asked him.

“Wait and hope that the next time someone comes through that door, they’re on our side.”

Except for the whooping of the alarms, everything was silent for the next few minutes. Then the sound of gunfire erupted from the hall, deafening even through the closed door. It continued without pause for several minutes, punctuated by the faint shouts of soldiers barking out orders and the periodic explosion of a grenade.

When it finally ended, it didn’t taper off. Rather, it came to an abrupt and sudden halt. A few seconds later the alarms stopped, too—either shut off at the control room or disabled by someone hacking into the system remotely.

“Take cover,” Anderson whispered.

He crouched behind one corner of the massive computer console in the middle of the room, resting his assault rifle on the edge and training it on the door. Kahlee took up a similar position with her pistol on the other side of the console.

They heard heavy footsteps in the hall beyond, then the unmistakable sound of someone hacking the door’s access panel from the other side. When it slid open to reveal a krogan in heavy armor, both Anderson and Kahlee opened fire.

Instead of falling back, the beast charged their position. He managed to take three loping strides toward them before their combined fire penetrated his kinetic barriers. His momentum carried him two more steps forward, then they finally brought him down less than a meter away from the console.

Anderson vented the heat clip to keep his weapon
from overheating, waiting for the next attack. A pair of batarians, one on either side of the door frame, peeked around the corner and lay down suppressing fire, keeping the two humans pinned behind their cover long enough for an asari to step into the room and unleash a biotic wave.

The console rocked backward from the impact, and Anderson and Kahlee were spent sprawling toward the rear of the lab. Anderson managed to scramble back to one knee to take aim again. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Kahlee roll over onto her stomach and wrap both hands around the butt of the pistol so she could fire from a prone position.

Neither of them managed to get off a single shot before they were enveloped in a biotic stasis field launched by a second asari waiting in the wings. The powerful opposing gravitational and magnetic forces inside the stasis field held them completely immobilized for several seconds, allowing plenty of time for the batarians to rush in and disarm them.

One charged up to Anderson and slammed him in the face with the butt of his shotgun just as the stasis field dissipated, sending the admiral toppling backward to the floor, barely conscious. Beside him he heard Kahlee scream as the other batarian brought his foot slamming down on the pistol clasped in her hands, crushing her fingers beneath his heavy combat boot.

Anderson, his head spinning from the blow, tried to get up to fight. But before he could, the batarian landed on top of him, his knee driving into Anderson’s chest and pinning him in place. Turning his
head, Anderson saw Kahlee in a fetal position, writhing in pain, her mangled fingers clutched tight against her abdomen.

To his surprise, the attackers didn’t kill them. Instead, they hauled them to their feet, forced their hands behind their backs, and slapped cuffs on their wrists.

“Sanak’s waiting by the ship,” one of the asari said.

Anderson could feel blood pouring down his face; the rifle butt had broken his nose and split his top lip. But he was more worried about Kahlee—her skin was pale and her eyes were glazed. The trauma of having all ten fingers simultaneously broken in multiple places had combined with her physical and mental exhaustion to send her into shock. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could to do help her.

Their captors dragged them out into the hall. Bodies were strewn along the entire length of the corridor; most were turians, but there were several batarians, a few krogan, and even the odd asari among the dead.

They were hustled through the station until they reached a large breach in the hull. A wide, fully enclosed gangway extended out from the breach, no doubt leading to the assault vessel the attackers had used to board the station.

Several enemy troops of various species were milling about the area, all following the shouted orders of a batarian who seemed to be in charge.

He was standing with his back to them, but turned as they approached. Seeing the prisoners, he blinked all four eyes in surprise.

“What are you doing with him?” he said, pointing his weapon in Anderson’s direction.

“You said take the humans alive,” one of the asari replied.

“I meant her, not him!” the batarian exclaimed.

“Are you sure that’s what Aria wanted?” the asari asked, looking for clarification.

At least Anderson knew now who they were working for, though he had no idea why the legendary Pirate Queen of Omega had launched an attack on the station.

“Fine. Put them both on the ship.”

Anderson decided to take a chance and speak up.

“She’s going into shock,” he said, nodding in Kahlee’s direction.

His voice sounded strange to his own ears, distorted by the damage to his face.

“If Aria wants us alive, you better see to her injuries.”

“Get them on board and give them each a shot of medi-gel,” the batarian ordered. “Then load up those data banks from the lab and set the explosives. I want to be out of here before reinforcements arrive.”

The batarians dragged them up the gangway and into the hold of what appeared to be some type of frigate. They were forced roughly down into two of the seats lining the wall. Anderson winced as his weight fell on the hands cuffed behind his back, causing a sharp pain to shoot through his shoulders. Kahlee cried out in agony, and he could only imagine what it felt like to have her broken fingers pinned between the seat and the weight of her body.

“You better get those cuffs off her,” he said.

“You should worry about yourself,” one of the asari suggested as she jabbed a long needle into his shoulder.

A few seconds later, everything went dark.

When Anderson came to, he was surprised to find himself lying on a large, comfortable couch in what appeared to be a well-furnished living room.

Shaking off the lingering effects of the medi-gel, he rolled over to put his feet on the floor and stood up. He realized he was naked, and then he noticed his undershirt and boxers folded and sitting on a chair nearby. They had obviously been laundered; there were no traces of the bloodstains from his broken nose. Next to his underclothes were pants, a shirt, socks, and even a pair of shoes.

Puzzled, he slowly got dressed as he took a quick survey of his surroundings. There was an archaic set of hinged double doors at one end of the room, open just a crack. Through it he could see a large, luxurious bed. At the other end of the room was a more contemporary sliding door, closed and—judging by the red light on the wall panel—locked.

Though they weren’t his, the clothes fit him well enough. Doing his best to move silently, he approached the locked door and pressed the wall panel just to be sure. It beeped but didn’t open. Despite the expensive surroundings, he was still a prisoner.

But where’s Kahlee?

Moving quickly but quietly, he crossed to the double doors and gently pushed them open. To his relief, Kahlee was lying on a bed, under several covers. She appeared to be naked as well; someone had piled her clothes on a chair beside the bed. Unlike the unfamiliar garments Anderson wore, however, he recognized her outfit as the same one she had been wearing when they’d been taken prisoner.

She was snoring softly, her body still recovering from her recent lack of sleep and the medi-gel she’d been given on the frigate.

Coming closer, he was relieved to see her fingers had been splinted. It would probably be close to a week before the bones properly mended and she regained full use of them, but at least she had been tended to.

Curious, he made his way over to the bedroom’s en suite to check his reflection in the mirror. Like Kahlee, his injuries had been tended to. His nose had been reset and his split lip was healed; apart from some minor bruising and swelling it was hard to tell anything had happened to him at all.

He considered waking Kahlee up, then decided to let her sleep. They couldn’t do anything to escape their gilded cage at the moment, and she still needed to rest. He returned to the couch, where he lay down and closed his eyes, just for a moment.

“Hey, soldier,” a voice whispered in his ear, “on your feet.”

Anderson’s eyes snapped open to discover Kahlee standing over him, dressed and fully awake.

“Must have dozed off,” he mumbled, sitting up.

“You snore like an elcor with asthma,” she told him.

“Not my fault,” he objected. “Bastards broke my nose.”

Kahlee held up her splinted digits. “I’d say you got off easy.”

“How’d you manage to get dressed?” Anderson asked.

“It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. Coyly she added, “You could have helped me if you’d been awake.”

The situation was too grim for Anderson to generate much of a smile, but he did his best.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Kahlee said. “I know I could. I found a bar over in the corner, but I need someone else to pour.”

Anderson got up and headed in the direction she pointed.

“Right there. Open the cupboard.”

Doing as she said, he found an assortment of high-quality alcohol to suit a wide variety of species’ palates, from krogan ryncol to asari elassa.

Not in the mood for anything too exotic, he poured two glasses from a bottle of brandy.

“On the rocks?” he asked.

“Neat,” Kahlee replied.

Anderson brought the glasses over to the couch, where Kahlee sat waiting for him. She took one from him, cradling it awkwardly in her palms because of her splinted fingers.

“Any idea why we’re here?” she asked after taking a sip.

“I figure Aria wants to meet with us,” he said, still
standing. “Can’t say how long we’ll have to wait, though.”

“Might as well get comfortable, then,” Kahlee said, patting the cushion beside her.

Anderson took a seat beside her and kicked back his drink in one quick gulp.

“Is this related to Grayson?” Kahlee asked as he leaned over to set his glass on the nearby end table.

“Pretty big coincidence if it’s not.”

Kahlee continued to sip her drink. Anderson realized they were sitting much closer together than was necessary—there was plenty of room on the couch to spread out. But when he shifted his position he ended up moving closer to her, not farther away.

He knew there were things Kahlee might not like to talk about right now, but in the end he finally decided he had to ask.

“How much did you manage to find out at the lab?”

“You were right,” she admitted. “Cerberus implanted Grayson with some kind of Reaper technology. Similar to cybernetics, but much more invasive. And far more advanced.

“Their results were still very preliminary, but they were
changing
him somehow. Turning him into … well, I don’t even think they knew.”

“Can it be stopped?” Anderson asked. “Reversed?”

“I don’t know,” Kahlee said softly.

“I’m sorry I got you involved in all this,” she said after a few more sips of brandy. “You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.”

“I’ve stayed in worse hotel rooms than this,” Anderson replied, trying to make light of the situation.

“But at least they let you check out,” she glumly replied.

Anderson reached an arm around Kahlee’s shoulder and pulled her close. As he did so, she turned so she could snuggle into the crook of his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.

“We’re going to get through this,” he promised her. “Somehow. Someway. We
will
get through this.”

He looked down into her eyes, and she tilted her head back so she could look up at him. Slowly, he tilted his head downward, bringing his lips to hers.

The room’s sliding door opened with a sharp
whoosh
, causing them both to sit up suddenly.

“Christ!” Kahlee swore as the glass slipped from her grasp in her haste to disentangle herself, spilling what was left of her drink onto her lap.

From the door there came a chorus of crude laughter, emanating from the entourage that had just barged in on them: three asari, a krogan, and two batarians. As the door slid shut behind them, Anderson caught a glimpse of two more krogan standing guard out in the hall.

The batarians and krogan were all grinning; he guessed they were the source of the laughter. He recognized one of the batarians as Sanak, the leader of the attack on the station.

Two of the asari looked nearly identical, though whether they were actually twins or if he—as a human—was simply unable to discern the differences between them he couldn’t say. The third asari, standing
in the middle of the group, had to be none other than Aria T’Loak herself.