He opened his eyes ten seconds after his alarm clock went off. Resisting the urge to just smash it to the wall, Lieutenant Adolphus Shepard sighed as he sat up. Rubbing his head, he closed his eyes momentarily, and muttered, "Lights."

He slowly opened his eyes, letting his eyesight adjust to the harsh glare of the white blue light that activated, and the familiar metal walls greeted him as they did for the past few weeks. He glared at them uselessly. He could still remember the first morning waking up in the Andre, the Hercules Dropship that was transporting him and his unit to Shanxi for their assignment. He didn't know that lights opened at full intensity, nor the fact that the shiny walls seemed to reflect every light ray at his direction. It wouldn't have been so bad, except his ocular implant intensified the whole thing, almost driving him blind. Not literally, but still. One of the medics of his unit, Corporal Jennifer Santos, assured him that his implant was still working at optimal efficiency, but he could swear that it wasn't working at a hundred percent.

She respectfully told him it was all in his head.

Shepard grinned. He liked the fact that his new platoon had spunk. He could have ignored her advice and still voice his complaints but he remembered he was a UST representative, an N7 SpecOps Saboteur. He was also assigned a veteran platoon that would help train, conscript and defend the newly colonized world.

Besides, his mother told him that only fools ignore the advice of doctors. And bigger the fool if the doctor was a woman.

Slowly standing up, Shepard grabbed the vidsnap of his wife, Hannah, and his little angel, and kissed both figures before he began a series of stretches to get his blood running and continued with a series of push-ups and abdominal crunches. After a quick shower, he dressed and prepped his C25B canister rifle fitted with a scope and silencer and laid it down on his workbench. He adjusted the sights first, then synchronized it with his implant before he removed the silencer and checked to see if there was any blockage. He took out the clip and moved the slide to make sure that the chamber was empty before he removed the barrel and checked that to see if there was blockage.

There was nothing wrong with his rifle, he knew that. It hadn't seen any action for weeks, and there was no working firing range in the Andre. Still, he always did it. The rifle was his weapon, an extension of himself. If anything went wrong, he would most likely end up dead a few seconds after.

Shepard was already on the process of cleaning it when he heard a knock at his door.

"Come in."

Shepard stole a glance, and spotted Staff Sergeant Martinez, his second in command, and the highest commanding officer of the platoon before he was assigned to it. The man had been with the unit for years, and was one of the more receptive and welcoming soldiers to receive him. Shepard usually went to him for advice about getting to know members of the platoon or for disciplining them when the situation called for it.

Martinez saluted, which Shepard returned. The Saboteur signaled him closer as he went back to his rifle.

"Please don't tell me Jenkins and Harris shot up the mess hall," Shepard said.

"No sir. Jenkins and Harris hasn't done anything stupid," Martinez replied.

"Then what are you doing up here so early, Martinez?"

"Urgent message from command. Captain wants to see you at the CIC. Says Admiral Horner is on the line."

Shepard frowned. Matt Horner was a familiar name. He served under the man during the second Great War before he was given the dubious honor of being promoted to Admiral. Horner had joked that it was a form of Raynor's revenge when the man got saddled up as the leader of UTS, but still kept a friendly policy of keeping things informal until combat or serious situations.

Last time they spoke, Horner told him he was often tempted to just ignore rank and procedure. Shepard replied by calling him by his first name, which Horner told him where he could shove it. Horner then informed Shepard that he was being assigned a new platoon and a new assignment at Shanxi.

Had their orders changed? Unlikely. They were just a few hours away, and anything drastic changes would make it unpractical. Nodding to Martinez, he quickly climbed a flight of stairs to get to CIC, and saluted as he came up to the Captain, an aged but alert gentleman who Shepard guessed would serve for another good twenty years.

"Captain," Shepard greeted.

"Lieutenant ," the man greeted back. "Signal's a bit shaky but it's still a clear transmission. You ready?"

Shepard nodded, and when the holographic screen came to life, he greeted, almost informally, "Hey Horner, what's going-" and stopped dead on his tracks when three figures popped on screen. Horner was in the middle, trying his damned hardest to hide his grin. At his left side was an older man, his hair slicked back with a scarred line running over his right eye. He recognized him as General Williams, the one responsible for colonizing Shanxi. And on Horner's right was the High Executor Selendis, a highly recognizable protoss.

"General, High Executor, Admiral," Shepard gave a sharp salute. "My apologies."

"Its fine, Lieutenant," Horner grinned. "At ease."

Shepard nodded, and placed his arms at his back. A general and a high executor? Now he was worried.

Horner took a moment before he said, "Lieutenant, there has been a change of plans."

"What's going on, sir?"

General Williams spoke up. "A new situation came up, Lieutenant. I'll try to keep it brief. Six hours ago, we lost Science Vessel Newton's signal while they were trying to activate a dormant mass relay at the edge of the system. Before that, they had activated First Contact Protocol, advising they had received a signal coming from darkspace. I am sending you detailed reports from what we pieced together from the Newton. Adjutant."

"Receiving data," one of the officers in the console declared. Another screen opened up, Shepard took a look at the data they just received. He frowned.

"Maybe it was a wild brood of zerg?"

Horner shook his head. "Wouldn't that make life simple? No. Signal came from a ship. Seems like an IFF."

Shepard sighed. First Contact with another alien species. "Just when I thought the universe would stop surprising me."

"It matters little," Selendis spoke. "It is an unprovoked attack. And I hope General Williams responded in kind."

Shepard agreed that it was an action that could be interpreted as an act of war, but he half-wondered if it was simply a misunderstanding. Terran and protoss forces had clashed when the terran worlds were bombarded by the protoss fleets, and it took years before they understood what provoked the alien's actions.

First Contact protocols were AI programs specifically designed to try and communicate with whoever they were sent at in addition to stealthily going through unencrypted programs to see if they could establish common language grounds, hoping to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Yet, who was to say this new alien species would interpret those actions as aggressive?

"Not as aggressively," Williams replied to the High Executor. "We sent out a contingent of Vikings and Ravens to the relay, sent another protocol."

"What happened sir?"

"They attacked again. This time, we were ready. Engagement was successful, and we were able to drive them back out," the general replied. "We were also able to obtain useful data. Adjutant."

When the data was received, it appeared on the screen again. Shepard read through it and has he finished it his eyebrows shot up up.

Whoever these species were, they were highly advanced in using mass effect technology. Viking pilots of the 587th Fleet described how their fighter ships were very maneuverable for their size, firing miniscule projectiles traveling at speeds fast enough to cause serious damage. There was also a moderately sized cruiser, half the size of a Battlecruiser, that packed enough punch to cause life threatening damage to the structural integrity a Viking after only one shot. The aliens also had some sort of shields which blocked their initial salvo of missiles, something terran technology was only able to apply to their bigger ships.

Fortunately for them, they had outnumbered the enemy ships and with the Raven's Point Defense Drones, took minimal damage.

"If we could obtain one of these ships intact, it would give us further understanding in making our own mass effect technology more efficient," Horner advised.

"I doubt they'd just close up shop, sir," Shepard replied. "From the numbers here, it looked like just a scouting party. Those who retreated would likely get back to their superiors and come back with more numbers."

Williams sighed. "They already have."

Shepard straightened up. "Sir?"

"We lost the signal of the 587th fleet two hours ago. A lone raven was given a retreat order and had a message in its data core. Adjutant."

A small screen popped up, its icon displaying 'Audio Only' as a recording played.

"This is Captain - - Fouad of the 587th - - Fleet. I don't know if any of you - - receive this. They came out - - nowhere! - - outnumbered us. Using some - - ECM. Lost all - - communication. Can't hold - - alone! More - - cruisers and damn aliens have - - ship bigger than a fu - - Battlecruiser! Agh! - - hit! Targeting - - collision course - - cruiser! Tell my dad - -"

The signal was lost. Shepard frowned as he tried to make sense of what he could understand. From what he gathered, the aliens had a fast response time and had from what the captain had said an impressive contingent of ships.

"Lieutenant, what do you make of this?" Horner asked.

"Honestly, there's too little information to go on," Shepard replied. "Captain Fouad wasn't able to give a number of hostiles. Also, the presence of a ship larger than a Battlecruiser worries me. How well defended is Shanxi?"

"Not heavily enough," Williams replied. "We have handful contingents of Vikings and Banshees planet side and we currently only have two Battlecruiser near the platform. Bad news is that they are relatively unsupported and may be overwhelmed. Worse, any transmission being sent is being scrambled and is almost unrecognizable. I still have the signal, but giving them orders will be limited at best. I was able to warn of enemy contacts and for them to defend the platform."

"I still have a good contingent of Vikings and Wraiths at the platform. Once I get a message through, I'll deploy them to support your Battlecruisers, General," Horner added.

Selendis looked at the two terrans, and shook her head. "Unfortunately, most of our war assets are at our sectors. I will advise our Executor at Shanxi to warp in Gateways and Stargates as soon as we can to bring in supporting ships and soldiers."

"Thank you, Admiral and High Executor. I'll take any help I can get."

Horner then faced Shepard. The Saboteur straightened up.

"Your orders, sir?"

"You and your platoon are to land on the orbital platform orbiting Shanxi. I need you to get to the UTS command post, and deploy the Viking and Wraith Company to support the battlecruisers. Gather as much intelligence as you can, Shepard. Any advantage, any info you can get will help us immensely in our fight," Horner said.

Shepard saluted. "I'll deploy my forces as soon as we reach the platform."

"Godspeed then. I'll inform Raynor on what is going on, and we'll see if we can get reinforcements to Shanxi immediately," Horner nodded, and his holographic figure disappeared.

Selendis seemed to nod as well. "I shall also send word to any fleets close to Arcturus Station, and join Raynor's fleets as well. May Adun watch over you," and she too disappeared.

General Williams looked at Shepard for a moment, and sighed. "Lieutenant, if you can find a means to boost the signal while you are up there, I'd appreciate it as well. We are fighting blind down here, and I don't like it."

"Will do sir."

"Williams out."

Shepard relaxed as the General's figure disappeared as well. He looked at the captain of the Andre, and gave him a grim grin. "Captain, I'm afraid we're going to change our destination a bit."

"No problem, Lieutenant," the Captain replied, frowning. "I'll get us to the orbital platform and get touched down immediately." He gave the order to the helmsman, and before Shepard turned away, he could hear the man mutter, "Another species, and another war. You'd think things would change."

Shepard shook his head, and turned around, only to spot Martinez nearby. He approached him, and asked, "Guess you heard our new assignment?"

Martinez could only nod. He saluted. "I'll gather the platoon immediately. We'll be ready once we hit ground side."

"Good man. Carry on. I'll be at the loading bay in ten."

Shepard immediately went back to his room and began his final check on his rifle before putting it back together. He also grabbed the vidnsap of his family, and put it in his left breast pocket before he took out his personal armor from under the bed. Like all N7 armor, it was made of interchangeable pieces all hardwired to a small computer located at the base of the neck. Higher-ups knew that each N7 agent is different, and the program encouraged each of them to customize their own rifles and armor to suit their needs and style.

His armor was painted in gray and black camo, and the only other color it had was the white and red N7 logo at his right collar. Heaviest modification came from the helmet visor and arms, and Shepard tweaked it to the point that ensured that whatever he would aim, he would hit. The rest of the armor was painted in material that would minimize his presence on any radar, and a conductive mesh that would ensure that he'd be hidden from sight immediately once he activated his full-body cloak.

Once suited up, he checked his suit's enviro systems and made sure the modifications he put in the battle system of his armor were still working at optimal capacity. Shepard also made sure his C-7 pistol sidearm was loaded before he made his way to the loading bay of the Andre. Once there, he spotted his platoon all suited up and ready to go.

The platoon had a good thirteen marines, five marauders, and three medics. He could spot Jenkins and Harris checking each others' armor, making sure everything was in working order. Daniels, a Marauder, was giving the three female medics a look, only to be ignored. Everyone else was checking their weapons. Martinez, when spotting Shepard, called attention to the platoon and all gave sharp salutes.

"At ease." Shepard then paused for a moment, looking at each of the soldiers under his command. "I don't know what the Staff Sergeant has told you, but our leave is over. Instead of landing in the spanking new colony, teaching FNGs to take cover and not shoot themselves, we are being deploying on Shanxi's orbital platform. Hostiles are currently blocking transmission orders, and we are to reach a UTS command center, and deploy all available ships to support space combat. There is no current info on the enemy. We have ourselves a First Contact situation."

There was a murmur among them. Shepard nodded.

"Yes, that's right people. New species. All we know is that they are using advanced mass effect technology. Higher-ups tried to talk to them. Twice. We lost civilians, pilots, and soldiers. We don't know what they look like or how they fight. All we know is that they are on their way here, armed, and intent of taking us out," Shepard paused to let what he said sink in.

"And you know what? Let them come. If protocols and words won't take them, then our actions will. Let us show them that we are no strangers to war. We fought ourselves for our countries, for loyalty, for freedom. We bloodied soils of multiple planets fighting the protoss and the zerg. We faced Hybrids to ensure survival for us all, and held the line against innumerable odds."

That got a reaction out of them. All the marines and marauders banged their arms against their armored chests, while the medics stood up straighter. Shepard grinned.

"Let them come so we can show these bastards what they really are: just another chapter in our history, just another race queuing up to fight us. And when the dust settles, let them realize what the others before them did: we are still here!"

"UH-RAAAH!"

"Marines! Whatever it takes!" Martinez shouted.

"Feel the thunder!" they all shouted back.

Shepard watched as they dispersed, most of them standing ready, waiting for the loading bay doors to open. Two medics approached him. He recognized the tanned one as Santos. He almost didn't recognize Hale, the paler one, as her fiery red hair was hidden under her helmet. They both saluted.

"Sir, I never outright said it so I thought now would be the best time; I appreciate having you lead the platoon," Santos said, tone professional as always.

"Me too, sir," Hale advised, though the tone was much more easy going that went well with her smile.

"I appreciate that. And I'll be depending on you all to get us through alive," Shepard replied as he also gave them a salute.

Hale seemed to giggle. "You can definitely count on me sir."

Santos groaned, probably not appreciating her colleague for being too easy going to their commanding officer, and dragged her away. Martinez then approached him afterwards.

"Nice speech, Lieutenant," he said.

"Really?" Shepard scratched his arm slightly. "I thought I overdid it."

"Sir, as long as it gets their blood boiling, you could say nonsense and it'll still be good," Martinez grinned. "Also, sir, I know you are married and all, but the platoon won't say anything as long as you keep it discreet."

Shepard blinked, looked at Martinez. "I'm. . . sorry, but what the hell are you talking about?"

Martinez raised an eyebrow. Shepard felt the Staff Sergeant was wondering if the Saboteur was yanking his visor. "What I mean, sir, is that you have a way with redheads."

Shepard looked at him again, and then to Hale. Catching his gaze, she gave him 'that' smile. It was the very same smile his wife would give him on those special occasions. He looked back at Martinez, who raised an eyebrow.

"You. . . didn't know?"

Shepard frowned. "No idea."

"That's. . . hard to believe sir. You are a psionic right?"

"Level-3. Can't read individuals. Groups are easier, especially if their emotions are synched," Sheperd stole another glance to Hale, who waved at him. He looked back to the Staff Sergeant immediately. "Wow. Okay, that's not good. Should someone tell her that I'm spoken for?"

Martinez didn't know whether to feel sorry for him. He shook his head. "Goodness, no. She'll take that as a challenge." He raised his hands slightly when Shepard looked alarmed. "Don't worry about her performance, sir. She'll be professional groundside. Just. . . watch out during downtime."

"Huh," was all Shepard could say.


There was a whoosh of air as Shepard and platoon were dropped via gravity tube, and all feet landing on the orbital platform almost instantaneously. He still preferred landing planet-side. The ground on orbital platforms always felt too flat.

After the dismount, the Andre slowly turned back and flew towards Shanxi. Staff Sergeant Martinez checked on the platoon, making sure that everyone landed on right and didn't break anything, giving Shepard time to look around and check on his HUD, reading all information displayed, mentally noting anything he would find useful. From what he gathered, the platform had an artificial atmosphere with breathable air (though slightly thinner than Earth or a core planet in Koprulu Sector). He also began to pick up radio chatter from the moment they landed. He could hear the two captains of the battlecruisers advising they were under attack. He also heard chatter from ground forces but there was too much noise to make out.

He stole a glance to the side, where he could see lights exploding like fireworks, illuminating the sky enough for him to see the figures of the two Minotaur class battlecruisers firing off their laser batteries. The sheer volume of fire dispersed most of the enemy fighters. Some were hit and broke off the attack formation, while the others were completely destroyed. He also glanced towards Shanxi, sighing as he remembered that they were initially assigned to train rookies to defend their cities.

Nothing changed assignments more drastically than an upcoming war and they had the best seats in the house.

There was a whoosh of rushing air and Shepard automatically crouched. The sound was not recognizable. It didn't belong to either a Viking, Wraith, Raven, or Banshee. It was way too steady and evenly pitched. He scanned the skies, and kept his ear on the comms, and he heard a stray transmission coming from the Battlecruiser, a warning to anyone who could recieve in the platform.

"Anybody getting this, contingent of enemy fighters and what looked like shuttles bypassed us! You may have hostiles bearing on you! I repeat. . ."

Shepard heard enough and went to his platoon. "Alright men. We might have hostiles on the platform. I need you all to do a hard connection for frequency 0A0101.79. I'll scout ahead, and relay as much information to you as I can. Staff Sergeant, I'll leave them at your discretion."

"Yes sir," Martinez loaded. "Alright, everyone, saddle up!"

Shepard dashed forward, his steps nearly silent as he headed in direction that his HUD indicated the nearest Command Center was located. It was only one and a half kilometers away, not too far. He also spotted an incline where he could climb up to higher ground for a better view. The platoon of soldiers were following right behind him, their steps louder and creating a slight tremor. He opened his line.

"Staff Sergeant, keep yourselves on the lower grounds. I'm climbing up for a better view."

"Yes, sir."

Up the ramp, Shepard scanned the area again. He was a kilometer away now, yet the radio noise was getting louder. It was not in a language he understood, and it was coming from right in front of his location.

"Everyone, listen up. Possible hostiles nearby. I repeat, possible hostiles," the Saboteur transmitted as he slowed his steps a little, keeping his ears open. Before long, he could hear that same sound he noticed earlier; that quiet and even pitched noise. Taking his rifle, he looked through the scope for the direction of the sound and spotted two ships, fighters most likely, hovering as a wider ship descended to the platform. He wondered if the third ship was a shuttle as it traveled to what looked like the aliens' operating base.

The wide ship hovered close to the ground and opened up, revealing a good twenty troops. They off-loaded and went to a formation around another group (Shepard counted another twenty) as another alien shouted to get their attention, probably the leader of the group. As the shuttle and fighters left, Shepard went even closer to see what these aliens looked like.

They were humanoid. Two legs, two arms at least. Their feet looked like they only had two toes, and their hands only had three digits. Their faces had some sort of carapace, forming heavily on their front and side of their face. Their necks were less covered, exposing greyish flesh. They had two eyes, and a mouth, and instead of hair, they had crest of horns, almost like a backward pointed hat. Lastly, they had different marks of different color on their faces.

He heard the leader speak. The language seemed incomprehensible to Shepard's ears, but it was audibly distinct. It was like two voices speaking, one slightly delayed.

The platoon seemed to be watching closely as well because he suddenly heard Jenkins mutter "Holy shit, are you guys seeing this?" over the radio.

"I can see notable difference from the protoss. Their carapace look metallic for some reason," Santos declared.

"They look. . . disciplined," Martinez commented.

"Very," Shepard replied as the leader gathered the group to a table and began to point something. The rest of the aliens seemed to touch their arms, and something orange lit up, covering their forearms.

"What are those?"

Shepard wasn't sure who asked that. "Could be computers. Who knows," he guessed. He took a moment to scout the base, and noticed that they had put some crates for covers on two sides, the further one facing the terran base, and the other to watch their flank. Both were narrow enough to serve as choke points.

"Smart, but not too heavily defended," Shepard commented. "They probably just arrived. Established just enough to cover their bases."

There was movement coming from the further defense line. A few of the aliens seemed to be returning, probably a few scouts. Judging by the blue liquid and holes in their armor, they had met resistance. They were led to the leader.

"Huh. Blue blood. Like the protoss," Santos commented.

"Maybe they're like their long lost cousins."

"Hey, pig's blood is red. Does that mean we're related to them?"

"Well, scientifically speaking-"

"Don't finish that sentence Hale. I don't care how pretty you are, I ain't gonna be compared to some hog."

"People, settle down," Martinez ordered. "What's the plan sir?"

"I'm going to cut off their leadership. Then you will hit them hard," Shepard moved to position, and took the safety off his rifle as he settled down a flat on the ground, and aimed at the leader as he spoke with the wounded scouts. "Santos, will the carapace be thick enough to stop a C25 series shot?"

Santos took a while to answer. "Their skin would probably not be that thick. If it was, then it would be too hard for them to move quickly. Of course, that's assuming their muscular structure wasn't different in some way. If they are, those plates could possibly be thicker and it wouldn't actually a bother to them."

Shepard frowned. "So neck or eye. Why not. Needed a challenge."

"Wait, did you say eye? Can you even take a shot like that, sir?"

"We'll find out," Shepard replied. "Everyone in position?"

"Marauder units front. They'll fire the first volley, and clear the way for the marines," Martinez replied.

"Just say when. . ." a marauder muttered.

Shepard took a breath. "Target in my sights." He inhaled. He exhaled. He inhaled again, and then pulled the trigger.

A faint of blue light surrounded the leader for just a split second. Shepard held off a gasp of surprise as he realized that whoever they are, they had shields like the protoss. However, the shield didn't seem as powerful as his gun since the shot still punched through, though it was off by a few millimeters. Instead of hitting the left eye, what he got was a hole in the forehead. And as luck would have it, the carapace weren't thick enough to stop the bullet. For a moment, the leader looked blankly at his platoon of soldiers before he slumped down on the ground, creating a panic amongst them.

"Target down. Never knew what hit him."

"Marauders! Unleash hell!" Martinez shouted.

"Heh. Its about to get heavy!"

The enemy soldiers were still confused when gun fire started at their flanking defensive position. One of the confused soldiers seemed to have gathered his wits and shouted a command. To Shepard's amazement, they went back to formation just as the marauders were in range.

"Say goodnight!"

And there was an explosion as the defensive crates were blown wide open at the initial salvo of grenades tore through them, blowing away the defenders.

"Go, go, go!"

Shepard watched the battle proceed as Martinez coordinated the attack perfectly. He had left Hale to check on the marauders as the marines charged in through the path the grenades opened up for them. The Staff Sergeant himself joined in as they began to charge in, shooting surviving stragglers. The enemy soldiers led by their new second in command were coordinated and responded well, taking cover behind more crates and began to return fire, causing the marines to scatter and find cover on their own until the marauders came right up and unleashed another salvo of grenades. They hit them hard enough to cause them to find undamaged cover, but held the line, grouping their shots, using their number advantage against them.

The odds weren't favorable, conventionally speaking. It's a good thing N7 agents were anything but. Shepard unloaded his cartridge, and put in another. He aimed at the center of the most concentrated number of hostiles, and fired a round.

It didn't hit anyone. It didn't have to. At impact, the round sent an ultrasonic pulse that stunned all surrounding units. Marines, medics and marauders took advantage of the hostiles' immobility and charged. Each marine fired at constant intervals as the marauders launched their grenades to the still-stunned aliens, and took the aliens down in numbers to a more manageable size.

Shepard didn't take a chance. He took another shot at the recovering hostiles, and let his platoon take them all down with ease.

"Clear!" Martinez shouted over the line.

"Casualties?" Shepard asked as he scanned the area again. There was no ramp to use to go down, so he'd have to walk back where he climbed up.

"Beltran and Ruiz took a couple of shots but nothing medi-gel couldn't fix. No dead," Santos replied.

"How about you, sir? Are you hurt?" Hale asked.

"I'm fine, Hale. Thanks for asking," Shepard replied, as professionally as he could. "Martinez, there's no ramp nearby so I'm going back where I came up. I'll rejoin you soon."

"We'll be waiting," Martinez replied.

The walk back didn't take too long, but when Shepard arrived, he noticed the platoon kept themselves busy. Marines were all piling the alien bodies in neat rows while the medics seemed to be pondering over one of the alien corpses, the leader that Shepard had shot, and the marauders were with Martinez, checking over the weapons and the intact crates.

The marines were the first to spot him. They immediately stood up straight and saluted. He gave them a nod, and saluted back.

"Good work, marines. Made me proud."

"Thank you, sir!" they replied as they went back to their duties.

He approached the medics, and they too saluted.

"What do you have?" Shepard asked.

"They probably have more natural defenses than humans or protoss," Santos replied. "Hands are tipped with mandibles or claws. Their features also seem. . . avian. Also, see those markings on his face?" Shepard nodded. "Not natural. It's like paint."

"Odd pattern for a face camouflage," Shepard muttered. "War paint, maybe?"

"Not too sure. Another odd thing; judging from what my medical scanner is telling me, I think these aliens have a different protein base than ours."

Shepard blinked. "What does that mean?"

"No idea sir. You have to ask someone with a higher pay grade than mine."

The Saboteur nodded. "Anyway we can transport a corpse back to Shanxi?"

"We can bag the corpse but we don't have any tools to transport him easily. We could have a marine carry one, but he won't exactly be ready to fight if we meet any more resistance."

"I'll see if I can arrange things then. We only need to transport him to the nearest command center." Shepard looked at the three medics. "Outstanding job."

The medics saluted, and replied, "Thank you, sir."

He made his way to Martinez next, who was talking to the group of marauders, who were laying down the alien's weapons on a table.

"They look like toys," one of them commented. "It even folds up."

"For easy transport, I'm guessing," Shepard said, gaining their attention.

Martinez and the marauders stood straight, and saluted. The Saboteur saluted back.

"What have you got so far?" he asked the Staff Sergeant.

"Nothing, sir," Martinez shook his head. "All I know is you pull the trigger, it shoots something. Can't even tell where they put the clips, or how to even reload the damn things. And the aliens themselves? They definitely had personal shields on them, but we punched through it just fine."

"Gather as much as we can carry. Let the higher-ups and scientist study them," Shepard said. "Also, I need a marine to carry an alien corpse as well. We're half a kilometer away from a friendly base. Hopefully they have transport to take it all back to General Williams. How long will you guys need to recover?"

Martinez shrugged. "I'd give it another five minutes, but give the order sir, and we'll continue."

Shepard pondered for a moment, and nodded. "Five minutes. Then we move out." He paused. "I don't think I need to tell you guys, but that was one heck of a show."

Daniels chuckled. "I'm all about that, sir."

"Carry on," Shepard said. He left them to their own devices, walked towards a crate and sat down. He checked his rifle, his sidearm, and finally his clips. He looked at the enormous view of Shanxi, and looked towards the lit up space as the battlecruisers firing everything they got.

Shepard inserted a clip to his rifle. The initial skirmish was a success. And with the storm brewing, knowing that there was more waiting for him beyond space, he hoped their luck would hold out until the end.


Author's Notes:

Not much to say, except a thank you to 6thfloormadness for doing the beta on this one, and thanks to all reviewers as well. Learned some excellent stuff, and hope you guys enjoy this chapter.