Drew Karpyshyn - Retribution

“We have the knowledge and resources to reverse the transformation,” he lied. “But soon it will be too late. Everything Grayson is will be consumed by the Reapers.”

Kahlee didn’t say anything right away, causing Anderson to glance over at her.

“Is that true?” he asked her. “Can they reverse this?”

“Maybe,” she said. “I don’t know. But if there’s even a chance to save him …”

She left the words hanging in the air.

“Even if it means working with Cerberus?” Anderson asked softly.

Kahlee nodded.

“Take us to your damn ship,” Anderson grumbled.

“This way,” Kai Leng said, pointing back down the street. “You’ll understand if I prefer you didn’t walk behind me.”

Aria was at her usual spot in Afterlife when one of her asari underlings rushed in with news of the failed attempt to capture Grayson alive.

“Orgun and Sanak are both dead,” she said. “Grayson is on the run, and Keedo is leading the pursuit.”

The Pirate Queen kept her features calm, concealing her extreme displeasure.

“What about Sanders and Anderson?”

The attendant who had brought her the news shook her head. “I don’t know. Keedo didn’t say.”

“Then why are you here?” Aria asked coolly.

“Keedo is requesting reinforcements. He says Grayson is … changed.”

“Changed? In what way?”

“Cybernetic enhancements of some kind. He didn’t go into details.”

Aria silently cursed herself for trusting Cerberus. There was no doubt in her mind they knew about Grayson’s upgrades; they might even have been responsible for them. Yet they had failed to warn her. If she had known, she might have sent more people to the meeting … and she might have reconsidered the idea of taking him alive.

But she was also angry at herself. Eager to avenge Liselle’s death, she’d accepted Cerberus’s proposal despite her misgivings. She had let her feelings for her daughter interfere with her judgment. She had let emotion get in the way of good business. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

“Give Keedo whatever he needs,” she answered. “And send an alert out to everyone we have: Grayson is to be shot on sight. Civilian casualties should be minimized if possible, but I won’t hold anyone responsible for collateral damage.”

The attendant nodded and rushed off to relay the orders.

Aria watched her go, sipping her drink while she thought about how she would have her revenge against Cerberus and the Illusive Man.

Grayson could do nothing but watch in fascinated horror as the Reapers sent him on a rampage through Omega. They had buried him so deep inside his own mind he had lost nearly all connection with his physical self. He could still see and hear, but he could no longer feel his own body. He knew in some academic way that he had been shot, but the pain was so distanced from his awareness that it had no meaning.

The escape from the warehouse had been only the beginning. As he raced down Omega’s streets, it seemed as if everyone on the station was trying to kill him. Every time he rounded a corner he seemed to run into an armed patrol or a blockade. Aria was sending everything she had at him; Grayson wondered if it would be enough.

The Reapers had turned him into a devastating weapon, but their power wasn’t infinite. The constant pressure kept them from replenishing the stored energy in his body; each time they drew on it they became fractionally weaker and more vulnerable. He was already seeing the effects of their exertions as each encounter became more difficult and more dangerous.

The first group to get in his way had been easily dispatched with a biotic singularity. With a mere flick of his wrist, the Reapers had caused a single point of near-infinite mass to be created right in the center of the four asari lying in wait for him around a corner. The gravitational field swallowed them up instantly, collapsing them into nothingness before they could summon their own biotic powers to strike back.

The next group of enemies — a mixed squad of humans and batarians — fell to a brutal physical onslaught. Grayson simply barreled into them before they had a chance to fire their weapons, his hands and feet becoming lethal weapons that bludgeoned, bashed, and tore his enemies to shreds. At the end of the encounter, the Reapers paused long enough to scoop up the weapons of his fallen foes, then sent Grayson racing off once more with an assault rifle in each hand.

The rifles allowed the Reapers to switch tactics. Instead of having to overwhelm enemies with biotics or melee combat, they were able to fight a running battle through the Omega streets. Unlike Aria’s people, Grayson wasn’t wearing a combat suit, so the Reapers never went toe-to-toe with any of the patrols they came across. Instead, they would fire off a quick burst, then retreat, ducking around a corner into one of Omega’s countless side streets or alleys. Using speed and maneuverability to offset the enemies’ kinetic barriers and greater numbers, they would pick off the enemy squad one by one until the path was clear again.

The strategy would have been impossible under normal circumstances. Technological advances had helped reduce the kickback, but the sheer volume of rounds being discharged still required the use of both hands to stabilize the weapon. Even a krogan wasn’t strong enough to use one in each hand effectively, but Grayson managed them as easily as if they were pistols.

Assault rifles also weren’t known for accuracy. Even with the automated targeting systems built into the guns, the odds of repeatedly hitting a single target while on the move were low. But Grayson’s synthetic enhancements gave the Reapers incredible accuracy, allowing them to focus both guns precisely on a single target. Kinetic barriers couldn’t hold up under such a concentrated barrage, and as soon as the target became vulnerable the Reapers would finish the job with a perfectly placed head shot.

Aria’s people fought back as best they could, but no organic foe could match the ruthless efficiency of a near-perfect killing machine. However, even aiming the weapons with laserlike precision was taxing his energy reserves. No matter how superior he was to his opponents, their numbers would eventually overwhelm him. He’d lost track of how many victims the Reapers had claimed somewhere around twenty, but he knew Aria had plenty more fodder to throw at them.

Recognizing the futility of trying to defeat an entire army, the Reapers began to search for a way to escape the station. The layout of Omega was a confusing labyrinth of haphazard, unplanned construction.

It was littered with dead ends and routes to nowhere. But in the two years he had worked for Aria,

Grayson had become as familiar with the layout as anyone.

Now the Reapers were drawing on his knowledge, accessing it directly from his mind. There was nothing he could do to stop them; he’d been reduced to a reference library they could call on whenever they wanted.

Still battling swarms of Aria’s soldiers, they plotted a course through the twisting, turning streets, heading for the closest of Omega’s countless docking bays. None of the ports Aria controlled were heavily guarded — most people knew better than to steal a ship from Omega’s Pirate Queen. This one was no different; only a handful of defenders were there to try to stop him. They quickly met the fate of so many of their comrades, though one managed to set off the alarms before she fell.

Grayson knew the blaring claxon meant that reinforcements would arrive in under two minutes, and even as the thought crossed his mind he realized the Reapers would now know it, too.

They had him race over to a small, single-pilot shuttle stationed in one of the bays. The boarding ramp was up, the hatch locked. The Reapers had Grayson reach out his hand and place it on the security panel. Blue sparks arced out from his fingers as he made contact. A sequence of codes flickered through