A/N: ... Sorry?

Even as their commander was captured, the alien soldiers refused to surrender. If anything, their resolve grew stronger. However, with the commander gone, much of the creativity left the aliens. Patterns began to emerge, and the Alliance marines capitalized on this, having a few soldiers play chicken with the enemy while the rest used those few moments to score a kill or two. Shepard grinned at this, and decided to join in. Poking her head up out of her perch and intentionally hitting an arm instead of a head, she dove back down as four soldiers turned and began to fire at her, giving the marines below an opening to pick off a few more enemies. After a few minutes, there was a lull in the firing. Not sure if she was able to look yet, Shepard stuck her hand just above the rail in the place she had been before

And immediately regretted it.

It turned out that one of the aliens had turned their trick against her, in a way. Jenny felt a ripping pain in her wrist, and felt something trickle (more like flood) over it. Yanking her hand down, she found that a chunk had been torn out of the side of her wrist. She realized that a burst from one of the alien rifles had managed to tear clean through her half-vampiric flesh. Swearing in three languages, she shoved her uninjured hand into her pocket, digging for the tube of medi-gel that would close the wound. With exceeding care, she squeezed a small amount of the viscous gel onto her wrist, which admittedly had already begun to repair itself. Heh, gotta love that quick healing, she thought. Just wish it wasn't so messy. Closing the now half-empty tube, Shepard carefully took her rifle and crawled towards the side of the roof tower. Taking a hold of a seam opposite the place she had popped up earlier, she painstakingly pulled off the oak paneling and aluminum-steel plating underneath. When she was finished, she had a small hole similar in function to the arrow slits in medieval castle walls, though her rifle was significantly more deadly than a longbow. Taking aim through the gap, Shepard managed to pick off three more soldiers before a fusillade of incendiary rounds aimed at flushing her out barraged her position. Swatting out her smoldering shirt before the fire could really catch, she beat a hasty retreat back downstairs. She didn't realize until she got down there that the aliens had put up that last volley of fire to defend their retreat.

After realizing that she would not have to worry about burning to death anytime soon, Shepard relaxed considerably. That is, until she finally felt just how destroyed her wrist was. Though her superhuman healing had already halfway mended her wrist, the fragments of the shredder rounds that had disintegrated inside it were decidedly uncomfortable. Since the fighting had lulled, she decided that, if there was ever a time to pull them out, it was now. However, by the time she had found the tweezers she was going to need to fish out the fragments of whatever the aliens used for their rounds, Nessie had finished talking to Edward and Bella about the prisoner that they had taken. She watched with interest as Nessie walked up to the commander and slowly placed her hands on the sides of his head. The alien had a look that showed the pain he was likely in as his mind was made to accept a language as alien to him as he was to them. Jenny was just surprised that he wasn't thrashing around.

"Can you understand me?" she asked when the alien had regained his balance.

"Yes," came the reply.

"Who and what are you?"

"Commander Delan Sidonis. Turian Hierarchy Marines."

"Why did you attack us?"

"You opened that Mass Relay. We panicked, thinking we were going to have another war on our hands."

"So you were trying to prevent a war with a war?" Shepard asked skeptically.

The turian had the decency to look abashed, though for all she knew, the drooping of his mandibles meant that he was smirking. "We had no idea that you were just starting your own space exploration. Your ships are similar enough to Citadel ships on sensors that by the time the ship commanders were in visual range and had figured out that you were new, we were already too far engaged to pull out."

Shepard looked to her family, seeing if their expressions mirrored her feelings of disbelief. Shaking her head, she pressed on. "How many ships were involved with the attack? How many marines on each?"

"There were 15 ships in our scout flotilla, most of them frigates, with a cruiser as our command ship and how the hell are you making me spill my guts like this?

"Finally figured that out did you? I built a mild compulsion into the language pack I gave you. The compulsion will wear off in a few days, and you won't reveal anything truly classified." Nessie smirked. She was lying of course. The real reason was that Jasper was using his power to lower the alien's inhibitions. "But back to my questions. How many troops landed here on Shanxi?"

"3 platoons in the first wave, another 5 in the second. That's as many as are ever deployed on a single mission when not in times of war."

Everyone in the house stared. "No wonder we were swamped. They tried to take out 2 platoons with 8. Sure only half a platoon is here, but still. Are we just that good, or are they just that bad?" General Williams said.

Shepard chimed in. "It's not a question of skill. They probably fight with overwhelming numbers to cow enemies into submission or, failing that, bury their enemies in a sea of bullets. We, on the other hand, rely on small, mobile units that hit hard and fast before falling back. General, throw me a Lancer." Catching it deftly, she turned to Edward. "Give me the good commander's rifle, please." Catching the alien rifle, she smirked. "That confirms my first thought. Our rifles are significantly lighter than theirs. Can one of you get me two plates of armor rated to withstand a Lancer for a heating cycle?" Setting up the plates across the room, Shepard fired bursts into each of the plates, using one weapon on each plate. The Lancer, unsurprisingly, did not shatter its plate before overheating, though it damaged the plate enough that it was no longer a useful patch. The alien rifle, on the other hand, took about the same time to overheat as the Lancer, though it threw about half again the number of bullets the Lancer did. However, each bullet left a hole that was significantly smaller than a Lancer's bullet, which meant that less overall damage was dealt to the armored plate.

Commander Sidonis gaped. The Phaeston was the best rifle the turians could afford to distribute to the entire military. To see it bested by a new race's standard issue rifle was crushing to him. He slumped further into his chair.

Suddenly, a marine dashed into the house. "General Williams, sir," he panted. "We've managed to herd the invaders into the center of the city, where most of the men are. We need you there so that we can attempt to negotiate a cease-fire."

"Thank you, private," General Williams said. Turning, he said, "Cullens, I'll meet you at the exit of the customs building. Make sure to bring the bird with you."

"We will, General," Bella affirmed.

AN: I don't know why I sat on this for so long. I've had it done since last month. Maybe I was thinking I could beat my record and push out two chapters on the same story within a year? Anyway, please, fave and review. I really need some suggestions on how to improve my writing.