Drew Karpyshyn - Retribution

She had never thought of the batarian as particularly perceptive; was it possible she had underestimated him? Or was it simply coincidence that had made him bring up the subject?

“We’ll have plenty of people at the warehouse,” she assured him. “More than enough to handle whatever happens.”

“Why go to all this trouble? Why not just have someone take him out the second he sets foot on the station?”

“I haven’t even decided for sure whether I want him dead or not,” she cautioned.

“If you let him live you’re throwing away three million credits!” Sanak protested. “And for what?”

“For what, indeed,” she answered, causing him to shake his head in bewilderment.

She didn’t bother trying to explain her thought process to him. The Cerberus offer was generous … a little too generous. What secrets did Grayson have that were so valuable to them? And was there any chance they could prove as valuable to her?

“It’s a lot of money,” Sanak muttered. “That’s all I’m saying. With those kind of credits on the table, no way I’d let him live.”

Suddenly Aria knew what she was going to do, at least as far as Grayson was concerned. Sanak had many fine qualities. He was loyal, skilled, ruthless, and relentless in pursuit of his goals. But one thing he lacked was vision; he had a sense only of the now. The fact that he would take the Cerberus offer meant she should reject it.

“I want to try and take Grayson alive if possible,” she declared. “But if he resists in any way, kill him.”

Sanak’s lip curled up in a snarl of disgust, but he had the common sense not to question her.

“I’m going to put Orgun in charge of the warehouse team,” she added, deciding the bad blood between her lieutenant and Grayson only increased the chances of the meeting turning violent.

“What about me?”

“I’m putting you in charge of Kahlee. Make sure she’s there to meet him.”

Grayson’s fingers moved deftly over the controls of the turian vessel, bringing it in to dock with one of Omega’s many landing ports. He was surprised by how easily he had picked up the feel of the alien vessel; it almost felt like he had piloted turian shuttles thousands of times before.

The meeting with Kahlee was at a warehouse in a district firmly under Aria T’Loak’s thumb. Grayson didn’t know if that was good or bad, however. Had Kahlee somehow become involved with Aria, or was it just random chance? The odds of any given location on Omega somehow being connected with the Pirate Queen were fairly high. She had direct control of at least a third of the station, and another third was held by various factions loyal to or affiliated with her organization in some way.

Aria is powerful. A threat. Avoid if possible .

Still, it didn’t hurt to be cautious. He didn’t know how Aria would react to his disappearance and Liselle’s death. Rather than take a chance he chose to touch down at one of the rare Omega ports that didn’t pay her tribute.

From there it was a long walk to the rendezvous, but he covered the distance quickly. Though he wasn’t running, Omega’s landmarks rolled by quickly as he made his way through the labyrinthine streets.

After several minutes he noted with surprise that, despite the brisk pace, he wasn’t even breathing hard.

He would have made even better time if he wasn’t constantly slowing down to study various structural and architectural features of the station. He had seen it all before, of course, but he almost felt like he was looking at it through fresh eyes: taking every detail and comparing it against some half-remembered blueprint he didn’t actually ever remember seeing.

The cycle continues. Each civilization brings change, yet the works of our kind are eternal.

Omega was known for the haphazard, piecemeal way it had been constructed. Most believed that it had been carved from the heart of an ancient asteroid by the Protheans eons ago, but over the centuries any number of species had left their mark on it. Its discordant style gave it an almost random feel. And though it had never bothered him before, for some reason he now found the chaos offensive on a deep philosophical level.

But while the overall effect filled him with revulsion, each individual element he examined during his trek caused him to react with amusement. It reminded him of the ant farm he had as a child. The insects had worked with slavish dedication to build their network of tunnels, shaping and altering the tiny glass case that encompassed the entirety of their existence. He had observed them through the glass as they worked, industrious and relentless, completely oblivious of their own insignificance in the grand design of the universe.

He was nearing the warehouse district. Soon he would see Kahlee again. Just thinking of her caused his pulse, and his pace, to quicken. The walk felt effortless, as if he were being carried along by some invisible force. It felt different than when the Reapers had taken control of his body, however. Then he had been distanced from himself, a passive observer. Now he felt fully engaged in the process of putting one foot in front of the other to propel himself along. It just didn’t seem to require any effort. It was almost as if someone was helping him.

A symbiotic relationship.

Grayson pulled up short, his calm, relaxed demeanor swallowed up by a dark cloud of suspicion. He tried to turn around and head back the way he came, but his legs suddenly felt heavy and awkward. He managed only ten steps before he was doubled over and gasping for breath. His own body was fighting him; resisting him.

The horrifying truth slowly dawned on him. The alien technology had become so deeply embedded into his body and mind that the Reapers were now an inextricable part of him. When he had been heading toward Kahlee they had been working in unison, parasite and host united in a common goal.

Their insidious influence had burrowed so deep into the fiber of his being that he had not only been unable to resist their will, he had actively been helping them achieve their end.

“No,” he shouted out, harsh and defiant. “I won’t take you to her!”

He braced himself for the inevitable surge of pain as the aliens fought to bend him to their will. Instead, he felt nothing. The lack of opposition confused him. He knew they were still present; the wires and tubes protruding from his joints and crisscrossing beneath his flesh confirmed that beyond any doubt. But they had become invisible. He no longer processed them as other; they were part of him now, inseparable and indistinguishable from his own identity.

That’s a good thing. Influence can work both ways.

A crazy idea began to form in his mind. If the Reaper technology was part of him now, maybe that meant he would be able to influence and control it the same way the Reapers had controlled his body earlier. Maybe he could draw on the cybernetic enhancements and his newfound biotic abilities whenever he wanted to. Maybe he could use them as tools to achieve his own goals.

You are superior to the pathetic beings of flesh that surround you.

The implications were staggering. Liberating. He had transcended the slow, laborious process of natural selection. He had broken free of the cycle of passing randomly mutated genes down from one generation to the next with the slim hope of gaining some minuscule natural advantage. He himself was changing, quickly and with purpose. He was evolving toward a perfect being.

Do not hide what you have become. Reveal your glory.

He had been afraid to see Kahlee because of what she might think of him. He looked strange.

Different. But she was a scientist; she would understand and appreciate what was happening to him. She would see how he had been improved. Repurposed. She would admire him. Adore him.