49 The End of the Reapers

--> The fleets are amassed, all forces assembled; the assault to reclaim Earth is about to begin. The entrenched Reapers await, an impenetrable hedge of diverse abominations over-arched by an impassable blockade of Reaper destroyers and dreadnoughts. Were this the sum of matters, the prospect would be more than grim. But we have friends on the ground. The resistance, led by Admiral Anderson, gives us some hope of success.

We need to open the arms of the Citadel and move the Crucible in range to dock with it. The obstacles are tremendous. The fortified station is sealed and surrounded by the entire Reaper fleet, rendering any direct boarding attempt a useless gesture; even the Normandy can’t get us past that dense blockade. The only means of entry is through a trans-orbit beam from the Citadel to Earth. The Reapers are using it to transport Human prisoners, living and dead, from London to the Citadel for processing. Landing anywhere near the beam is impossible: the airspace for miles is covered by HADES defence cannons. Our only means of accessing the Beam will be with a ground assault, landing the troops beyond effective range of the densest concentration of AA guns. The danger zone for landing ships is too broad to avoid completely; our soldiers would be wading through the English channel to reach London, and we’d still have taken fire while landing. None of the options are good. Our only hope is a compromise of danger.

While the primary fleet, designated Sword, engages the Reapers, a small flight of shuttles will attempt to land on the outskirts of London. Our vanguard force will make a combined strike in unison with Anderson's resistance forces, and eliminate local AA guns in the vicinity. Once the airspace there is clear, the full extent of our combined ground forces, designated Hammer, will land, link up with the resistance, and push for the Beam. It will be a race against time, carving our way through the entrenched enemy positions to get to the Beam and board the Citadel before our fleets are destroyed. Once we’re aboard, we’ll not only have to find the arm controls and open the station, we’ll also have to neutralize whatever block it was that the Council put in place to separate the Citadel from control of the Relay Network. Once the Citadel is online, Shield fleet will escort the Crucible into range. We connect the two, and fire it up.

It’s a long shot. The Crucible will be the Reapers’ primary target, suffering heavy attack the moment it shows its nose. Numerous though our fleets are, we cannot guarantee the Crucible’s safety in direct contest with the Reapers. Beyond weakening the Reapers as much as possible and drawing their fire to the immediate threat of our attacking ships, our best hope for protecting the Crucible will be achieving enough success in the ground assault to draw their ships away from the battle in space. We’ll be fighting at a disadvantage in London with minimal air support at best, and we can guarantee the Reapers hitting hard once we get close to the beam.

And so it comes down to this. Our only hope for defeating the Reapers lies in one final, desperate battle. So be it. No more halfway measures, no more running. The game has changed. We take the fight to the Reapers with everything we have. And so the stag turns at bay and rends the wolves. Let them feel our wrath.

--> We’re ground-side. Hammer has landed, but despite the hole we opened in the aerial defences, our landing craft took heavy casualties: only fifty percent of infantry forces are accounted for. The fleets are engaging, the infantry forming up. Anderson is mustering the officers and making final preparations for the assault. We have a few minutes before we start our push for the Beam.

It is midnight here in London. Black clouds roil above, reflecting the discharge of artillery; the wrecked and shattered buildings are shaken by the rumble of explosions; and all is overcast by the pale and baleful light of the distant Beam. “A land of deepest night, of utter darkness and disorder, where even the light is like darkness.”

The team might be forgiven some trepidation at the prospect of the battle before us, but I see no fear in their eyes. Instead, every face is lit with resolve, even grim satisfaction. Despite the danger and chaos, there is peace in our ranks. This is what we've planned for, trained for, fought for, and in some cases, died for.

This is it. After all of the fighting, all of the dying, hardship, and sacrifice to oppose the Reapers, in this cycle and the countless that came before, it all comes down to this. This is the culmination of everything we’ve done, everything we’ve fought for. Our own efforts would have been for nought without the Protheans before us. They laid the groundwork for the advantages we hold. They gave us the means to defeat Sovereign, and the weapons we made from his corpse. They were the last in a long tale of defiant who tried and failed to finish the Crucible, each passing on, hidden in some discreet corner, this ultimate hope for a final end to the Cycle.

Everything we’ve accomplished, every battle we’ve fought, every sacrifice that’s ever been made in the struggle against the Reapers is consummated in this moment. Despite the long odds, we have a chance. We’ve come closer than any civilization before us to defeating the Reapers. None after us will have another chance such as this: failure is not an option. We stop the Reapers, here, today, not merely for the sake of the living or the lives of the lost, but for the sake of every sentient being born in the future. We will save the living; we will exact vengeance on behalf of those who fell before us, and we will grant future civilizations freedom from the fate of the past. Though it cost all our lives, we will prevail. One way or another, the Cycle ends today. We come to destroy the Reapers, at any cost: no halfways, no excuses. Every man and woman in this battle knows the score, and have come to battle knowing most of them will never return. They’ve already made their sacrifice, and face the Reapers with the fearlessness of those with nothing to lose. We face the Reapers today with a force such as they’ve never seen before: Human, Turian, Krogan, Asari, Salarian, Quarian, even Rachni and Geth, an entire galaxy mobilized and united against them in one massive force of retribution, a long overdue host of vengeance for the countless innocents slain across an unnumbered series of bloody harvests.

And should the ultimate price be paid, should all our lives be spent in the destruction of the Reapers, it will not have been in vain. Though it cost every drop of mortal blood that flows through the veins of the defiant, the Reapers’ end has come. It is long overdue.

Should this be my last entry, let the record show the highest commendation for my crew. Many credit me with this chance, but I could never have done it without the brave men and women who have helped me through the rough path we tread. Nihlus, whose initiative gave me the authority to track down Saren. Tali, who provided the information to prove his guilt. Liara, without whom the warning of the Beacons would have been useless. Kaidan, who laid down his life for the rest of us. Miranda, who brought me back from the dead. Mordin, whose sacrifice gave us the alliance with the Krogan. Legion, without whom the Geth would have been lost. Garrus, whose calibrations preserved the Normandy on countless occasions. Ashley, who with James saved the Crucible plans from Cerberus. There's not a one of us that hasn't owed our life at least once to Dr. Chakawas. And Anderson, our captain who first sent us to destroy Sovereign, and has now given us this foothold on Earth, our last grip on the cliff of doom. All of them have saved my life on countless occasions, and ensured the success of missions critical to where we now stand. It has been my privilege and honour to have served with these friends, the dearest and truest that any soldier ever had.

With so many vital threads woven together, the loss of any one of which would have meant ruin for all, I cannot believe that our success is a product of mere chance. Having been preserved on so many occasions when chance would have dictated failure, we stand where no other race in history has stood: against all odds, we have been granted this one chance to destroy the Reapers. We must not, we will not, fail. May He that guides us still watch over us all.

Perhaps it may be, against all odds, that I survive this last and greatest trial. If so, I may live a life of one with my beloved Ash. But if only she survives, the new life born of her will live safe and free.

Whatever happens, this vow I make: the Sun will rise over the ashes of dead Reapers.

But our time is up, the moment of reckoning is at hand. Every gun is loaded, every heart steeled, every mind focused. The time has come. Death to the Reapers. Life, hope, and peace to those who survive. They will see a future free from fear.

So fill to us the parting glass, and drink a health whatever befalls.

And though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for You are with me.

This is Commander Shepard signing off.

---

TRANSMISSION FROM COMMANDER SHEPARD:

"ADMIRAL, I'VE GOT IT. ….ONE MORE MIRACLE. GET THE FLEET OUT OF HERE.

 

VICTORY IN THREE, TWO, ONE, DESTRUC…"

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

48 The Death of the Hell Hound

--> Horizon in sight. Sporadic heat signatures are occurring at the Sanctuary complex; definite sign of disaster, and almost certainly of combat. Whatever's going on down there, it's happening ground zero on a massive refugee housing center, and civilian casualties are all but guaranteed. The sooner we can contain the situation the better. We'll go in low and see who's killing who, then participate as appropriate.

--> I had thought Cerberus had done its worst, that nothing could exceed the depths to which they had already stooped. I was wrong.

Cerberus had been running the refugee centre on Horizon as a gilded web to ensnare the displaced. What was by all outward appearance a refuge from privation and danger was nothing less than a death camp. No, it was worse. They only killed some of the subjects. The refugees were taken and transformed into Husks. The Illusive Man had contracted Henry Lawson, Miranda’s father, to run this facility as a means to produce and to study Reaper forces and discover the means to control them, with the ultimate intent of controlling the Reapers themselves.

I can’t believe it. I’d once thought the Illusive Man crooked and ruthless, then deluded and a tool, but I never would have thought any Human could have concocted such a twisted and diabolical scheme as this, let alone on an industrial scale. To subject thousands of fellow Humans to the same horrific and agonizing end that they would have suffered at the hands of the Reapers is unthinkable. Is every last Cerberus soldier, engineer, and desk-worker so thoroughly corrupted that this butchery committed en masse under their watch meant nothing to them?

If Cerberus personnel are all Indoctrinated, the Indoctrination is of a quality of derangement, not control. The fighting we found was the last of a bloody contest between Cerberus and a Reaper strike force, clearly sent to destroy the research base and all the information within it. I don't know if it is actually possible for Cerberus to have discovered a means to control Reapers, but it's clear the Reapers themselves are taking no chances. It seems Cerberus put up a tough fight; we walked over innumerable bodies, Cerberus and Reaper troops alike lying dead throughout the length of that cursed facility. The deceptively white and orderly walls and floors marked with dark blood, and the smell of death everywhere. Not a single civilian refugee survived that massacre.

I don’t know how many innocents were lead to the slaughter. Thousands, hundreds of thousands, it makes no difference. Cerberus, which prided itself on being a force for the defence of Humanity, used the Reapers’ own methods on the very people they were meant to protect. My mind refused to comprehend the extent of the horror. But then how could it? How could any mind fathom the unimaginable pain and terror that facility turned out in its gruesome work? But this is only an example in stark contrast. On Earth alone there are millions of souls suffering the same fate at the hands of the Reapers. Sanctuary was but a single facility. The Reapers have made a hundred more.

Leng had left before we arrived, taking with him the completed research data; Lawson he left to the Reapers. My team and I carved our way through the last Cerberus and Reaper forces left in the base, and found Lawson in a stand-off with Miranda, her sister Oriana held by their father as a human shield.

Hostage rescue training takes no prisoners. Mr. Lawson will not have opportunity to stand trial for his deeds. A higher Judge than the Alliance could provide will decide his ultimate sentence. Neither Oriana nor Miranda need fear him any more.

Miranda did us a favour and tagged Leng with a tracer before he bugged out. We have our destination: the Illusive Man’s centre of operations is in the Anadius system. Alliance Command will be pleased to hear this. After having for so long been a menace to Humanity, and the entire galaxy, the centre of the Cerberus web has at last been found.

--> Alliance Command responds. Fifth Fleet is dispatched to Anadius; the Normandy will have the full weight of the Alliance Navy backing her. No halfway measures. Hackett's orders are to seize the data and destroy Cerberus.

It's been a long time coming.

--> Anadius System locked down. The net has been drawn. There is no escape. Cerberus defence fleet moving to engage. Let's remind them what it means to be Alliance.

--> Damn the Illusive Man. Damn him to hell and back again. Our mission, as a mission, is a success; Cerberus is defeated, their main fleet and central base destroyed; we have the Prothean data, but all too late.

The Catalyst, the last piece for the Crucible, is the Citadel. We should have known all along. The two massive stations combined have the power to destroy the Reapers with their own tools. The Citadel controls the Relay Network, and the Crucible serves as a colossal spark plug and guidance system to jump-start and overcharge of the Relays to target the Reapers. The Crucible turns the Reaper's own creation against them.

Had we known this before, we could have taken the now completed Crucible to the Citadel, established the link, and fired it up. The war would have been over, the Reapers caught broadsided and destroyed by their own tools. But that cannot be. The Reapers have taken the Citadel; the Illusive Man learned of the nature of the Catalyst from the Prothean VI, and told the Reapers. Now the last piece of the puzzle is in their grasp. They’ve taken the Citadel to Earth and sealed it shut, surrounding it with every ship they have. What could have been a bloodless victory for us will instead be a desperate struggle, a grim contest of strength against a foe whose power eclipses ours even as a river surpasses a stream. We cannot win through strength alone.

Kai Leng is dead, and with him most of Cerberus, but the Illusive Man himself remains elusive. The nest has been incinerated, but the chief rat is still at large. He'd already left for the Citadel before we ensnared his fleet. He will not escape again.

There are still some diverse fragments of Cerberus scattered throughout the Galaxy, but as an organization, they’re history. With Cerberus dealt with, we can turn our full attention to the Reapers.

--> The word has been spread, the time has come. The final engagement of this war commences at Earth in forty-eight hours. Every fleet has responded, every course set. 

Operation Skyfall has begun.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

42 Defectors and Crime Syndicates

--> It’s easy to forget that not all of the combat-ready forces of the galaxy are government-sanctioned fleets and armies. Besides local militias and makeshift civilian resistance, there are also the criminal elements, from local gangs to galaxy-class mercenary bands. The Blue Suns, Eclipse, and Bloodpack are the three most powerful and well organized of these disreputable brigands. They have thus far taken but little part in the Reaper war, beyond of course avoiding the Reaper invasion front and taking advantage of whatever resources become exposed. If they could be recruited, it would add a welcome boost to our combat-ready forces in this everywhere and everything against the Reapers.

There are two difficulties with such a plan. The first is getting them to cooperate with our command structure. The second is getting them to work together without tearing each other’s throats out. They are, after all, criminals, and have fought each other perhaps even more than the authorities.

As fortune would have it, the second difficulty seems to be clearing itself up already.
Prior to expulsion by Cerberus from her seat of power on the pretentiously named waste bin of Omega, Aria T’Loak was the biggest crime boss on that station, the centre of criminal enterprises in the whole of the Terminus Systems. Despite her sour disposition, Aria was an unusually pragmatic crime boss, providing what little security and stability Omega had. She’s currently trying to unite the Blue Suns, Bloodpack, and Eclipse under her rule. She's smart enough to realise that it’s in her interest to help combat the Reaper threat, and that she has the means to rally these disparate factions into a joint force for that purpose; and her own personal power of course.

Under any other circumstances, helping a crime lord amass more power would be a capital offence, but we need more guns on the ground, and Aria’s coalition presents an opportunity to take advantage of a resource that would otherwise be very difficult to utilize. I am officially requesting permission from Alliance Command to proceed with perhaps the most unorthodox mission ever undertaken by an Alliance officer.

--> Orders received. I am authorized to solidify Aria's control of the Terminus gangs, and ordered to take all reasonable measures to obtain Aria's cooperation against the Reapers.

As part of our deal with T’Bitch, I will help her retake Omega and its stores of Ezo. The Cerberus occupation force there is commanded by Oleg Petrovsky, one of the Illusive Man’s top military strategists. He should prove a tough nut to crack. Aria has made it clear she cannot operate with my combat team. She named no names, but it seems perfectly obvious the individual in question is Garrus. Archangel united the merc bands once before in a group effort to kill him. Bringing my best friend along would in this particular case be inadvisable.

I’m leaving the Normandy under Ashley’s command: her orders are to continue running standard interference against Reaper occupation forces. Williams knows the ship and crew, and should have little difficulty keeping the Normandy intact and her crew alive.

I can't say I'm looking forward to seeing Omega again. Aria's company is also something I'd hoped to avoid. It's no accident such a waspish and unprincipled individual feels at home on that filthy rock.

--> Aria's coalition has breached the Cerberus defence fleet and engaged the entrenched enemy in a street-to-street, door-to-door fight through the dark and dirty streets of Omega, the garish and neon lights of shady vendors illuminating a gruelling and savage fight between mutated soldiers and murderous hoodlums. The run-of-the-mill gang warfare of Omega has merely been replaced by an augmented and intensified variant, one where the usual factions have been united by the intrusion of a new adversary, the jack-booted control of Cerberus domination.

We've got our first foothold, now it's time to make our next move. Cerberus has blocked off most of the avenues of advance with energy barriers. Aria's engineers are trying to find a way to bypass control directly, but with little success. There are, however, chinks in the armour. A small team can bypass the barriers through maintenance routes without attracting attention. Aria's ensuring all teams are ready to assault the moment the shields go down.

--> I've received an encrypted transmission from Ashley. She's caught wind of some Cerberus defectors on the run in the Minos Wasteland, and is taking the Normandy in to investigate. Apparently she found it necessary to correct Javik's assumption that the goal is to kill the defectors.

She also relayed a surprising update from Hackett. The Crucible is being built far faster than I'd anticipated; Alliance engineers have through herculean effort completed perhaps fifty percent of the known work. Once decoded, the plans are easily translated for seamless construction. But even at this late hour, we still don’t know how it will utilize the massive power it stores. The means for its application, the Catalyst, is still a complete mystery.

Despite being our single most well-informed expert on Protheans, never in all of her work did Liara find anything regarding the Catalyst, and neither her extensive network of intelligence nor any government and their official archives hold a solid lead on what it might be. Javik is himself a Prothean soldier, and doesn't know squat; not surprising as this Catalyst was obviously a tremendous military secret of the Protheans. They apparently safeguarded this secret very well. So well perhaps, we may never discover it.

What an incredible irony. We've discovered and are well on our way to completing the designs for this Prothean super-weapon, only to have the same security of knowledge that preserved the plans for our time prevent us from finding the last and crucial component. Could such success be achieved only to be thwarted by one final, obstinate, detail? God send that our fate will not prove so fickle.

--> Aria and I have made contact with an old friend of hers. Nyreen Kandros, ex Turian military, it seems she and Aria have a history. Apparently they parted ways when their incompatibilities grew more clear than infatuation. In Aria's sneering words, Kandros “practically oozes virtue.” It's hard to see how this upright Turian soldier found anything compelling in Aria. I personally find our Asari confederate to be a pain in the neck.

Kandros is running an underground network of militants in opposition to the Cerberus occupation. They call themselves the Talons. She's agreed to coordinate with our assault, on the condition that we ensure the safety of civilians. It seems she not only commandeered this local gang she now commands, she's whipped them into shape to resemble a regular militia, uniformed and orderly. The ranks all seem to bear a strong loyalty for their leader. They speak of her with genuine regard, and salute with more than token spirit as she passes by. I admit I'm impressed Kandros successfully transformed what had been an ordinary gang of lowlifes into a disciplined and conscientious defence force that prioritizes safety of civilians over their own lives.

All forces are set. Petrovsky's defences are waiting for us. He thinks this is a game of chess. He's about to find out that his enemies don't play chess. They play dirty.

This is going to be bloody.

--> Operation complete. Omega is under Aria’s control. The Cerberus forces there have been driven out, Petrovsky taken prisoner. Aria had wanted to kill him, and I’d have had no objection, but she let him live long enough to surrender. Given that he’d ordered his men to stand down and formally asked for quarter, I could not in good conscience stand by while Aria strangled him. Aria and I nearly came to blows when I demanded she desist. But the matter is resolved, and Aria will be sending Omega’s considerable supply of Ezo to the Alliance, in addition to fielding her forces alongside the Alliance soldiers in combat.

Kandros is dead. She sacrificed herself to save civilians from Cerberus monsters. It appears Cerberus is not content merely to modify their soldiers using Reaper methods, they’ve begun going the whole hog and manufacturing monsters of their own design from the bodies of prisoners. It is becoming more and more obvious that, whatever the Illusive Man’s original intentions were, Cerberus is irredeemable. Everything the Reapers are doing, Cerberus is doing, only slower.

With Kandros gone, it's unclear what will happen to her followers. The Talons will almost certainly fall under Aria's command. Whether they will maintain their own structure and discipline without their leader remains to be seen. Omega needs Kandros. One hopes her example, her spirit, will not be forgotten. I've sent a report to the Turian military, with a recommendation for Kandros' posthumous exoneration and commendation.

I now take my leave of Aria, and Omega. Normandy awaits!

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

41 Asari Distress

--> Ashley has settled in aboard the Normandy, and despite an involuntary twitch of the gun hand, she refrained from shooting EDI on sight. Even with prior warning that the same cerberus robot which nearly killed her is now occupied by our ship's AI, it was plainly no easy matter for Ashley to abide its presence upon meeting, and I don't foresee the two of them having tea together any time soon. Had I been so foolish as to bring EDI with me to reclaim the Citadel, things would have gone far, far worse.

The Reapers have conquered and occupied a lot of territory, but their alarming rate of expansion is beginning to ebb. Numerous and awingly powerful as they are, even they cannot defend all points at once. The Alliance Navy cannot reclaim lost ground, but we've begun putting severe dents in Reaper occupation forces left to subdue captured worlds. Forced to begin covering their proverbial tails and intermittently back-tracking, the Reapers cannot sustain their hitherto headlong rate of expansion. Instead of wasting our forces in futile defence against overwhelming odds, Hackett has preserved our fleets at the cost of ground, focusing on counter-attacks whenever and wherever the Reapers leave themselves vulnerable.

The inevitable long-term result of this conflict is still a foregone conclusion, but their advance is in abatement. We can hold them for a long time yet.

Liara has informed me of an Asari distress call in the Nimbus Cluster. Asari High Command sent in commandos. Those soldiers have failed to report back.

They aren’t the hardiest race the Galaxy, but Asari commandos, lithe and powerful biotics, some with centuries of experience, are among the most cunning and lethal hunters in the Galaxy. If a team of them were somehow outmatched, the danger must be great indeed. Liara tells me that out of all the threats Asari face at this time, they’ve asked for my aid in this matter. They haven't said why, only giving us the coordinates for a habitation on the planet Lesuss.

This sounds important. Especially as there is no intel available; both the planet the commandos were sent to and their mission there are conspicuously lacking in details. An Asari colony in the Mesana System, Lesuss has no disclosed population or industry, its environment is barely habitable; dark, barren, inhospitable, and cold. A grim place.

Setting course for Lesuss.

--> O horrors. I’ve seen many grim things in the course of my service, the Reapers have been cause of all the worst. But for all the atrocities and twisted abominations that I’ve seen, what we found on Lesuss chills me to the bone.

We found the outer grounds of the monastery vacant, filled only with the bleak light of a cold and distant sun, dominated overall by an absolute silence. The pale and cheerless light of the grounds left behind for the pitch-dark halls of the interior, our torches almost seemed weaker than they ought: the clinging darkness receded grudgingly before our advance, only to close in again behind us like some grim curtain that crept and closed round our small circle of light. And over all hung the same constant of deathly silence.

We searched through that place, room after room revealing no living thing; neither friend nor foe was to be found in all the upper levels. And so we searched deeper, creeping further and further down into the depths of that lifeless edifice, hands gripping weapons and trigger-fingers twitching at the sound of our own footsteps, we strained to penetrate what seemed an iron curtain of almost tangible dread surrounded by a mute and hollow blackness. I swear I could hear the sound of Ashley's heartbeat behind me; Liara's sharp intake of breath at the clatter of something brushed off a table as we passed, Garrus' rasping hiss of anticipation at the turn of a corner, seemed loud and dangerous.

The noises came slowly at first. Faint whispers. Our own movements had become so loud in our ears as we slipped through those still and noiseless halls, with no living thing to be found, our hearing was keyed to the highest pitch. We stopped stock still, trying to tell from whence the whispers came. Had there ever been such a thing as a mouse in some hidden corner of that place, the noise that broke suddenly upon our ears like a knife in the dark would have struck it dead with fear: for the whispers of menace that seemed first near then far were suddenly consummated by such a scream as no natural thing can make.

A banshee had found us.

The Reapers have harvested and warped many races; Human, Batarian, Rachni, Prothean, Turian, even fusing Turian and Krogan together into one powerful monstrosity. Hitherto, the Asari have had but little contact with the Reapers, and none have been turned. That changed on Lesuss. The beautiful and serene Asari were being taken and changed.

The results of the Reapers’ diabolical machinations are always gruesome and horrifying, an unliving blasphemy against the life and beauty of the original. But the Asari; the difference was even more acute. Nothing could be further from those fair, gentle blue nymphs than the menacing aberrations they were transformed into. Dark, towering mockeries of feminine form, those monsters emit a shriek that curdles the blood: it is as though the all-consuming hatred of the Reapers were mingled with the voice of a woman’s last cry in all-surpassing fear and pain.

They are very hard to kill.

Lesuss was home to an Ardat Yakshi monastery. Unlike Morinth who chose to indulge her mortal appetite and feed upon the minds of an endless sequence of lovers, these Ardat Yakshi chose to live a life of seclusion. Born with defects beyond their will or control, they made the only choice they could in remaining there on Lesuss, a lonely and celibate company of mutual isolation living out the many long years of their Asari lifespan on this cold and lonesome rock, a place where even the sun at its height fails to warm the stone or lighten the sky.

Samara was there. We found her fighting the Reapers in the depths of the monastery. Of her three daughters, one she has killed for murder, with my help: Morinth was the reason why Samara had become a Justicar, and now she had returned here to save her two remaining daughters.

Three daughters, all of them Ardat Yakshi. It is no great wonder that Samara chose to bind herself to a code of absolute justice, or that her mate, an Asari whose name I never learned, ended her own life.

But only one of Samara’s daughters could be saved. Falere, who tried so hard to save her sister Rila, is the only survivor from that grim harvest of Lesuss. Rila, too far gone to be saved, regained control of her own will long enough to detonate the bomb that the now dead commandos had brought with them. She died in cleansing inferno amidst those that sought to claim her. The reapers thralls were purged from Lesuss. Rila’s bravery is to be commended.

It is uncertain what Samara’s original intentions had been when she came to the monastery; perhaps even she herself did not know. But Rila’s strength and resolve even as the shades of blackness were falling across her eyes rendered once more firm in Samara’s mind the duty of the Justicar code. It forbids any Ardat Yakshi to live outside of a monastery, on pain of death. In what she saw as her only way to avoid breaking her code, Samara drew her weapon, and nearly took her own life rather than kill her last daughter. With my intervention, and Falere’s voluntary promise to abide in the ruins of the monastery rather than leave, Samara was spared from her own adherence to a code that brooked no compromise.

It will be difficult for Falere to survive here in this barren and desolate landscape, but she may well outlive the rest of us. With the monastery and all who were within destroyed, this out-of the-way planet no longer holds anything of value to the Reapers. Were we to fail, it is possible Falere would eke out a meagre existence on this rock, and in the end die a natural death here on Lesuss, long after the rest of the Galaxy had been consumed.

The Normandy has provided Falere with enough supplies to last for some months, long enough to for the war to be decided, one way or another. Clean-up for whichever side wins could take decades even centuries, but within a few months we will have completed and deployed the Crucible, and determined the fate of the Galaxy.

We're all soldiers. Even Liara, sweet and harmless though she may seem, is battle-hardened; there's not a soul aboard this ship that hasn't seen Reapers and their abominations before, but even they seemed shaken by what we found on Lesuss. We'd all known, sooner or later, Asari too would be seized by the Reapers. That knowledge fails to mitigate the horror we witnessed. Even the snide and arrogant Javik was quiet after seeing what the Reapers had wrought upon the fair Asari. The monastery isn't all. There'll be more of them.

Should Samara survive the war, she will return to her daughter. Sentiment; sweet it may be in peace, but in war its bitterness arises at the loss of those that are loved. So much death. Those two are the sole survivors of a family fraught with pain and loss. Most women would not bear it with strength as they do. Perhaps in times like these, even the weak are granted strength beyond their nature.

May that strength that comes from above be with us all.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

40 Udina's Folly

--> We’ve hit a Cerberus research base. They’re studying Reaper tech in earnest. Despite playing into the Reaper’s hands at almost every opportunity, despite captured intel on “integration” of their personnel, it appears that Cerberus is not directly allied with or under the control of the Reapers. It’s still possible that the Reapers are influencing them without their knowledge.

Besides detailed diagnostics on volatile Reaper tech, the base's databanks also held, among other things, significant intel on the nature, composition, and dispersal of Reaper forces. This information should prove quite valuable.

Admiral Hackett has a certain cruel pragmatism to him. Due to the advantages of Reaper technology and the hazards entailed in studying it, Hackett ordered us to leave the research base intact, bugging the systems rather than blow everything up. Cerberus will continue studying Reaper technology, and we will learn everything they do with none the associated risk. Clever plan. Brutal, but clever.

Now that we've a small breathing space, I can spare Councillor Valern his requested time to look into Udina's dirty laundry. Bloody waste of time.

At least this gives me the opportunity to visit Ashley. She should be almost back to normal now, and if I know her, chaffing at the bit to get back in action. There's Reapers out there that need killing, and she's been stuck on the Citadel with nothing to shoot at but targets in a gun range.

--> Emergency. The Citadel is under attack by Cerberus forces. There’s no signs of ship combat, only infantry. They completely bypassed perimeter defences. Both their purpose and means of entry are unknown. C-Sec is in disarray and the Council uncounted for.

All official channels are scrambled, but we’ve got radio contact with Thane. The terminally ill Drell is out and fighting Cerberus. He lost sight of Ashley; she eluded his care and ran off to protect the Council.

Thane Krios, the best assassin in the Galaxy, lost Ashley. She’s good.

The team's ready. We’re going in.

--> Situation secure: the Citadel is cleansed of Cerberus infestation and the Council is safe; minus one half-witted numbskull of an idiot. Turns out Valern was right to be concerned about that gormless skunk Udina: he was the one responsible for smuggling Cerberus in. Without him, Cerberus would never have gotten past the patrol fleet. I’d have far rather taken him alive, but he panicked when confronted, and moved to shoot the Asari Councillor; a fatal mistake.

And here I’d thought Valern was making mountains out of molehills about Udina’s back-room dealings. It seems fairly obvious in hindsight what he was doing this for: he'd appealed for aid to retake Earth, and been overruled by the rest of the Council. So, to save Humanity, Udina sought to use Cerberus as means to stage a coup. With the Citadel under his control, he’d have launched an immediate joint-species attack on the Reaper forces occupying Earth.

This demonstrates not only foolish desperation, but complete disregard for the decided strategy of Alliance military. If we were to move on Earth sooner rather than later, the time has long passed. All large-scale resistance on Earth has been wiped out; all that’s left is a mobile network of commandos under Anderson’s command carrying out guerilla style hit-and-run strikes against the Reapers, doing as much damage as they can to local reaper detachments before scrambling to evade the retaliatory Reaper bombardment. To retake Earth now will require us to finish the Crucible, and attack with the combined power of all fleets at once. Even with a successful coup, Udina would not have control of all fleets. He would have spent the bulk of our forces prematurely in an almost certainly disastrous attack that would only deplete our strength and all but guarantee our eventual defeat.

I strongly suspect that, had he succeeded in the attempted coup, Udina would have found himself just as quickly thrown aside, having been but an unwitting and convenient puppet for Cerberus (assuming they even let him live). I don’t think Udina meant for things to get out of hand as they did. I suspect his idea was to capture and take the other Councillors prisoner, secretly if possible, or to be killed if necessary. It seems highly unlikely that flooding the streets of the Citadel with Cerberus assault troopers, shooting civilians and C-Sec alike, was actually part of his plan: he was clearly not in control of the situation as he’d thought. Deal with the Devil, pay the price.

More people than Udina paid a price today. A lot of civilians died at Cerberus' hands, and a not-inconsiderable portion of C-Sec died trying to defend them. Thane too is now numbered among the dead.

He was stabbed while defending the Salarian Councillor from a Cerberus assassin. The doctors did what they could for him, but the blood loss combined with his illness rendered all treatments moot. Thane died in peace, his son at his side. He died a hero’s death, having spent his life to save another. His passing was soon to come anyway, and the Cerberus attack afforded him the opportunity to die nobly.

Thane spent the last years of his life trying to wipe out the red in his ledger, to counterbalance the sins of his past as an indiscriminate killer for hire. I trust his efforts to achieve redemption were not in vain, that whatever gods he worshipped, the God of mercy will smile kindly upon his contrite soul.

The assassin who spearheaded the attack, the one who killed Thane, is well known to Anderson. Kai Leng, ex Alliance, achieved N7 designation, top performance record, evaded disciplinary action for theft on account of excellence of service, eventually was dishonourably discharged and imprisoned for murder. Cerberus broke him out of prison, and he became an augmented agent of the Illusive Man. Anderson thought he’d killed Leng on one occasion, only for him to return with cybernetic implants. This is one tough bastard, and likely only failed to kill the Councillors through miscalculation born of hubris. We haven’t seen the last of him.

Things were tense, to say the least, when we cornered Udina. With C-Sec in disarray and scrambling to remember up from down, Ashley had swooped in, effectively neutering Udina’s immediate plans by whisking him and the Turian and Asari Councillors out of immediate danger and rushing them to a shuttle. But the shuttle was disabled, and my team found them grounded and cornered.

I admit it looked pretty suspicious. Cerberus attacking the Citadel, clearly with inside aid, and me, the soldier who had worked with Cerberus, pointing a gun at a Citadel Councillor.

My mind stayed low, refusing to acknowledge the fact that Ashley and I were one twitchy finger away from killing each other. Udina loudly insisted that that I was the traitor working with Cerberus, then immediately [without meaning to] defended me by declaring that my accusations of him being the traitor were outrageous and without proof, as always. I couldn’t have said it better myself. For years, I issued warnings that our superiors ignored, and Ashley had been right by my side through most of that.

Ashley took a risk and chose to trust me, then turned to arrest Udina. That’s when he panicked and got himself shot.

Despite the narrow cliff edge we passed, I’m glad the issue of Cerberus, the mountain of doubt between me and Ashley, came to a head. Until it had been truly tested, that matter, even if shelved and suspended, would always have been an unspoken wall between us. The worst that could occur was made an immediate possibility; everything hung in the balance. When it came down to it, when everyone's life hung on her decision, Ashley chose to believe in me, and her trust was proven justified. It is a debt I will always owe her.

Cerberus really shot themselves in the foot with this attack. They bungled their seizure of the Citadel, and instead accidentally did the Alliance a favour. Such a sudden and dangerous attack upon their impregnable fortress, so nearly successful, has shaken the Council. The Asari have begun sending scientists to assist in the Crucible, and have promised us their fleets when we launch it, including the Destiny Ascension. A powerful symbol, that beautiful ship. Despite its heavy armaments, its effect on morale may be even greater than its tactical impact.

Ashley has been medically cleared for duty. She has officially, and unofficially, requested reassignment aboard the Normandy. Ashley's been missed, and not just by me. I don't think there's a single member of the crew, from Garrus and Liara to Adams and Chakwas, that won't be happy to see Lieutenant Commander Williams back in action with us.

It means more than I can say to once more have her by my side, without doubt, without complications. The air is clear now. We are free.

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39 Rachni

--> I've received two messages. The first was from Surkesh. The Salarian Dalatrass sent a grim transmission prophesying the doom of all galactic society, beginning with her culture, and had the gall to blame me for Mordin’s death. Despite the Salarians officially refusing both military aid and technical assistance with the Crucible, there appear to be schisms forming in Salarian leadership. The STG has joined the fight against the Reapers, and certain Salarian captains have promised their ships in support of the Crucible. Even some Salarian scientists have volunteered immediate service for the project. It’s heartening to see that, despite the idiocy of their politicians, the Salarians are not uniformly fools enough to sit back and watch the Galaxy fall around them.

The second message was from the Citadel; Councillor Vallern discreetly confides in me a suspicion that his human colleague is crooked, and has asked for my help in dealing with suspected corrupt dealings by the Councillor Udina.

At a time like this, the Salarian Councillor wants to dig up petty criminality? Of course Udina is dirty. I’d be surprised to hear that he wasn’t. I'll get back to Valern on this later. In the meanwhile I have more urgent matters to attend to.

--> The Cerberus forces holding the defence cannon have been dealt with. If they aren’t working on behalf of the Reapers, they’re making a darn good impression of it. That wrinkle nearly cost us the Krogan.

Now that we have a breathing space I can turn my attention to the rumours coming from the Rachni relay. Wrex's scouts aren't the only disappearances reported in that quarter. I have a bad feeling about this.

The Rachni were a force that terrorized the Galaxy millennia ago. So far as I know, this enigmatic and creepy species was the only non-biped race besides the Reapers ever to achieve space-flight. They are fast, cunning, and deadly. And they are very hard to kill. It was only through the arming of the Krogan that the Citadel races managed to defeat them. The Krogan hunted the Rachni to extinction, following them to their home system and killing every last soldier, worker, and queen.

Or so they thought. During Saren’s attempt to hand the Galaxy over to Sovereign, his agents found a derelict ship adrift in the depths of space. Held in stasis aboard that ship was an egg; a Rachni queen. They took it to Noveria, there to breed in secret an army of Rachni soldiers. But the Queen’s offspring, taken from her care, turned mad, and nearly destroyed the research base. I was there. My team found the station crawling with rabid, armoured insects the size of bears slaughtering every victim that fell into their clutches. The Queen I let live. A caged innocent who had done no wrong, the last member of a sentient race which knew of beauty, I could not murder when mercy was humbly asked. Freed from her confinement, the Queen left for a distant world, there to raise her children in peace, telling them of the mercy granted them. She promised to come to our aid when the Reapers returned.

Instead, we met Rachni among the Reaper forces on Tuchanka. With mutated and grotesque bodies, almost unrecognisable as Rachni, their mechanized joints and the artillery welded onto their backs made clear their exclusive purpose of destruction.

We’re headed toward the Rachni Relay, there to rendezvous with Arlakh Company. We’ll find out what happened to the Krogan scouts that disappeared. If it was Rachni, we must reach the heart of the nest and find the Queen. There are three possibilities. The first is that she lied, and joined the Reapers willingly. The second is that she has been turned, and is no longer a true self. The third is that she is prisoner, bound and controlled. If either of the first two, she must be destroyed. If the latter, she may be saved.

--> We’ve landed at the site of the scouts’ disappearance, on the planet Utukka in the Mulla Xul System. The Krogan of Arlakh Company are led by none other than Urdnot Grunt. The proud great monster baby has come a long way from being a mistrusted “tank-bred.” He now holds command of the finest Krogan fighting team in the Galaxy. His immense carnivorous jaw stretched wide in gleeful pride as he told us of how he’d won his way to command. With him and a troop of his fellows at his back, I’m confident we can tackle anything we find ahead in the tunnels the scouts never came out of.

Night is falling. That shouldn’t matter, we’re headed underground anyway. But for all his eager ferocity, Grunt is as close to worried as I’ve ever seen him. This place smells wrong, he says. And he’s right. But it’s more than the smell. Something about this whole place feels wrong; something warped is lurking beneath. We’re about to plunge into a darkness concealing Heaven-knows what unthinkable horrors.

I’m a marine. This is my job.

Shame Ashley's missing out on this.

--> Mission complete. That Stygian pit was a veritable labyrinth of twisted passages and whispered menace, half-heard sounds alternately approaching and retreating as we pushed forward into the darkness.

We were cut off from the Krogan by a cave-in almost immediately upon entry.

We found webbing first; great, dark strands of clinging blackness that barred entry towards the innards of the caverns. Then we found wires, Reaper nodes, and more artificial barriers blocking access. These lengths and walls of metal, intermittently found along our path into the tunnels, should have seemed less alien and threatening than the webbing and clustered egg sacks they stood amongst. But instead the unnatural metal, undeniably Reaper in origin, screamed silently of an Alien hatred for us, greater than from any organic form we might find.

Then they hit us. From all angles at once, the walls, the floor, the ceiling, dozens, scores of the insecticival monsters poured out upon us. All was blood, bullets, and carnage, and then they were gone; only to return again in even greater numbers when we pushed forward again. That place was crawling with mutated Rachni, the Reapers were breeding an army down there, and we walked right into the middle of it.

We found the Queen. She was herself, prisoner and bound, breeding against her will the offspring that the Reapers warped and weaponized. Her shackles broken, she followed us out of the tunnels with all haste and fear. The Reaper-controlled Rachni would rather destroy her than see her free.

The Krogan team, tough as they were, were hard put to survive. They still retain the numbers to continue as a coherent fighting force, but they took casualties. Grunt himself nearly lost his life charging alone into a horde of Rachni to cover our retreat. He didn’t need to do that. A couple of grenades, rationed and held in careful reserve from the rest of the fighting, finished off the last of the enemy that swarmed after us. I’d thought Grunt dead, having seen him plunge off the side of a subterranean cliff, taking one last enemy with him. But that indomitable reckless wonderful stupid fool pulled his Krogan hide out of there. Covered from hump to hoof in the blood of his crushed foes, Grunt stumbled out after us. That Krogan is hard to kill. It seems even his best efforts can’t achieve it.

The Rachni Queen is now sent to help in the construction of the Crucible. Despite the misgivings of the engineers, her workers, hive-minded as they are, prove quite efficient at whatever task they are assigned.

It is probably in great part due to that hive-minded nature that the Reapers found them uniquely easy to dominate. Given what we know, it is almost certain that the Rachni invasion thousands of years ago was driven by Reaper influence. Even more interestingly, Javik tells us that the Rachni were an active enemy even during his time in the last cycle, fifty thousand years ago. This seems to break the rule of Reaper doctrine, that they defeat, enslave, and eventually destroy all space-faring species present in any given cycle. It seems the Reapers thought the Rachni too much fun to eliminate, the archetypical scary monsters with which to terrorize the Galaxy between cycles.

I dare say the Rachni Queen is embarrassed, to say the least. I’d found her on Noveria a pawn of Sovereign. Rescued and released, she’d promised to return the favour and send aid against the Reapers. Instead, I had to come after her again in very incriminating circumstances, once again rescuing her. She may not have been able to uphold her prior boast of direct military aid, but her children can help us build the Crucible. I don’t think anyone, least of all her now, wants to risk sending any more Rachni against the Reapers. We’ll keep them safely out of the enemy’s reach.

In the meantime, the Reapers have lost their source of Rachi terror-troops. They still have what they’ve already fielded, and may even be able to clone a few more, but they’ll have to ration that resource carefully, instead of flooding every battlefield with giant insect monsters like they’d planned.

The Alliance, hitting the Reapers at any weak spot that presents itself, is still losing ground. The Arcturus Stream, Exodus, Kite’s Nest, Gemini Sigma, and Attican Beta Clusters have all been occupied to one extent or another by Reaper forces. We’re losing resources fast. We need to finish building the Crucible before we lose the means to do so.

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38 The Battle of the Shroud

--> A Reaper has landed on Tuchanka.

Thankfully it’s one of the smaller destroyer-class monsters, not a Sovereign-class megalith. Nonetheless, a sentient and deadly-cunning hunk of metal one hundred sixty metres tall is a matter of grave concern. Not to mention the army of Husks, Marauders, Cannibals, and Brutes clustering around its feet that have commandeered the Shroud and are using it to disperse poison into the atmosphere of Tuchanka.

Available resources are limited. Despite the associated stakes, this showdown on Tuchanka is but a backstage skirmish compared to the ensuing battles of the Alliance and Turian fleets against the Reapers.

The Normandy can’t join this fight on account of Cerberus occupying, repairing, and arming an old Krogan planetary defence cannon in range of the airspace over the Shroud. We can’t spare the time to disable the gun, not while the Shroud is actively pumping toxins into the air. Without time to neutralize that cannon, we'll be marching on the Shroud without even the chance to attempt meaningful air superiority.

The presence of the Primarch aboard the Normandy makes it all the more impossible that we expose the ship to the direct view of that heavy gun, to say nothing of the Reaper. One or the other the Normandy might stand some chance against. But against both combined the outcome would be certain defeat.

We need a way to take down that Reaper, but despite the ferocity of the Krogan footsoldiers, they possess little in the way of advanced military hardware, certainly nothing to match a mountain of prehistoric alien metal. The best they can bring to bear against the monster is a few detachments of small-scale mobilized artillery, largely outdated.

The most that Palaven can spare us at this time is one fighter squadron, craft too small for the Cerberus gun to threaten. This, with Krogan artillery vehicles, will have to suffice for fighting the Reaper. They may or may not manage to bring it down, but they should at least be able to distract it and draw it away from the Shroud.

Here's the plan. The Krogan artillery will in concert with the Turian fighters engage, and if possible destroy, the Reaper. The bulk of the Krogan infantry, spearheaded by clan Urdnot and their redoubtable chieftain Wrex, will engage the Reaper footsoldiers while I take a small insertion team to the Shroud. Hopefully we can get Mordin and Eve there without exposing them to the attention of the entire Reaper defence force.

It is uncertain if Eve will survive the process. I hope so. She’s proven herself capable of impressive leadership skills in rallying the dubious Krogan. Should both she and Wrex live, they will make an excellent match.

--> The Salarian Dalatrass has just covertly made contact. She says that the STG sabotaged the Shroud years ago to prevent just such an attempt as we are about to make. Mordin will likely detect the malfunction and repair it. Otherwise the cure will be rendered inert, and no one the wiser. She all but told me to murder Mordin, promising me in return full Salarian support.

I’m insulted. To think I’d kill a trusted friend for political leverage. Besides, I would never betray the Krogan like that. Of course there’s a chance the Krogan will start a war. Wars happen. There is no nation, no treaty, no mortal provision of any kind perfect enough to guarantee lasting peace. All such constructs are innately flawed because they are made and held by flawed creatures. History is one long account of disaster and renaissance, treachery and virtue, triumph and defeat, peace and war, civilization constantly pulling itself out of the rubble to rise and fall again in endless struggle against mortal failings. We cannot guarantee the future. All we can do is our best to make peace in our time. This cure for the Genophage, and the leadership of Wrex, constitute the best possible chance for lasting peace between the Krogan and the rest of the Galaxy, and there is no more certain way to guarantee their undying enmity than to betray them now. I will not for fear of war lend my hand to ensure it. The Dalatrass can go to hell. But that’s none of my business.

--> We’re groundside. Turian wing Artimec is inbound to the Reaper. Krogan tanks will rendezvous with them at the Shroud in one hour, infantry moving to engage.

This will be bloody, and it looks like the Krogan are up for it. It's been centuries since the Krogan have fought a proper war, and the soldiers I see before me are chaffing at the bit to spill some Reaper blood. Despite the very real threat posed by this Reaper on Tuchanka, despite the possibility that it could prevent us from successfully curing the Genophage, this fight for the Shroud gives us a perhaps essential opportunity to motivate the Krogan. When asked to go fight alongside Turians, the average Krogan will find but little motivation to risk his neck for his hereditary enemies. But when a new enemy arrives in presumptive arrogance to directly threaten their own homeworld of Tuchanka, every Krogan will immediately reach for his shotgun; and once committed to their own war against the Reapers, deployment to Palaven is a mere extension of that reprisal.

Shroud is in sight, Reaper in the way. The rumble of our tank-treads is matched by the growl of occupants eager to tear and rend. Now let the Krogan do what they do best.

--> The cure is deployed, the Reaper destroyed. The Krogan emerge victorious.

The Krogan soldiers tore through the Reaper thralls like a fire through dry grass. The Krogan may have been largely disarmed by the Turians, but they've not lost that brutal ferocity that earned them the fear of the entire galaxy. Now that Krogan have gained a taste for Reaper blood, they hardly need asking to march against the Reapers on Palaven.

Despite the Krogan's easy victory against the Reaper footsoldiers, the Reaper itself proved a far harder nut to crack: available forces proved insufficient to defeat the monster, and Wrex resorted to the summoning of Kalross, the Mother of All Thresher Maws. It was quite a sight to see, two behemoths, one metal the other flesh, grappling under the fierce Tuchanka sun and laying waste to the terrain around them. The Reaper disappeared underground in the grip of the Thresher Maw, and now appears completely inert to orbital readings. Kalross’ status is unconfirmed. Liara has issued strict warning to the Krogan to avoid approaching the Reaper corpse. The last thing we need now is for the Krogan to become Indoctrinated.

The Shroud was razed to the ground in the ensuing carnage, and Mordin sacrificed his life braving explosions therein to ensure the successful launch of the cure. The Salarian who died to save the Krogan will live as an example of goodwill to strengthen the bonds of peace between the races. 
 

Mordin was a good friend, and comported himself with all the selfless courage that may be expected of the bravest soldier. At the end, he insisted that he could not have done otherwise: “Had to be me. Someone else might have gotten it wrong.”

And he was likely right. Due in no small part to his caring expertise, Eve survived, and will be rallying the Krogan at home while her husband leads them into battle.
 

Wrex is much pleased, and with good reason; the Krogan united, invaders smited, the Genophage cured, and peace made with the Turians? Not bad for a bloody merc who three years ago had nothing to his name but his armour and a gun. I'd known when I first met him there was more to Wrex than most Krogan, but what he has accomplished surpasses all possible expectation. He's done well by his people, and they've made him proud this day.

Wrex is as good as his word. Now that the Cure is delivered, there will be no more delays, and his soldiers will begin deploying to Palaven immediately. Even better, they’ve revealed massive stockpiles of nuclear weapons, carefully hidden from Turian eyes till now. The Turians will now welcome those weapons as the Krogan bring them to the defence of Palaven. Logistics must be seen to. We'll need troopships and supplies, rations and shipping to get the Krogan to Palaven and keep them sustained once they arrive. Keeping our vicious and voracious friends nourished throughout this war will be no light consideration. Krogan can sustain tremendous injury, but that entails a monstrous appetite.

It remains to be proven how the Krogan will live once the war is over, but with this Cure we have good reason to hope for peace. Friendship is born of shared adversity, and the strongest bonds are those forged in war.

With the Krogan and Turians fighting side by side, we just might live long enough to see that peace.

Even the Reapers have to be worried by that alliance.

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