Author note: apologies for the rather slow update; I got somewhat distracted by exams and the like, but now I'm refocused on what's actually important...

Blitzkrieg

If the universe ever broke and there was going to be an apocalypse, Shepard had an inkling that it would be something like this; one hell of a light show...

The transport had been nearing its destination when it bucked and shuddered before rapidly descending. Shepard was flung back into the wall, braced himself against it and watched his captor's reactions; Mark was taken completely by surprise and unable to react in time; was flung from his feet and unlikely to be given the opportunity to rectify the situation before they hit the ground.

Cameron had surprised him. She regained her balance quickly and braced herself, and, rather than watching or trying to aid her comrade, despite his evident need, her eyes coolly rested on her prisoner. Someone who takes her objective, or at least her revenge, seriously. We may have more in common than she'd like to think. But then, you never know for certain how people will react until you fling them into a situation headfirst.

The shuttle had hit the ground; all of them were knocked from their feet and flung around the craft. They had all suffered varying degrees of concussion and unconsciousness, Shepard, typically, being the least hurt and the first to recover, the universe being a fickle and untrustworthy creature as it was.

He had assessed the condition of the shuttle; judging by the condition of the divide between the passenger area and the cockpit, the pilot was almost certainly dead, so there would be no way of finding out what had happened from him, and the shuttle's electronics were out, which meant they couldn't see outside, windows apparently being too low-tech in this day and age...

He'd stepped forwards, his mind bent towards the main door of the shuttle, thinking that it would likely be possible to power its circuits and open it with an Omni tool, which hopefully he'd be able to take from one of his captors...

The distinctive click of a safety catch being flicked off jerked his attention in the direction of those he had intended to add to his list of victims. Cameron was awake. Oh, joy...

"I wonder what the galactic community would think if I just shot you?" She asked in a voice that had Thaddaeus irritated that he hadn't moved sooner. "If I told them you seized the opportunity and tried to escape, and I had no choice?"

"We can find out..." the psychopath had started cautiously, watching her trigger finger intently. "Or," He said somewhat more quickly as it started to move "You could accept my help in ending whatever it is that's attacking this colony, and then we can go on to hold the trial and I get to try something later on and have the pleasure of dealing with you myself. If it helps, it may not even involve death..."

"For all I know, whoever's attacking the colony is here for you!" Cameron scoffed. Shepard had to admit, he was rather hoping for that scenario himself, but doubted that it would be the case. This sort of operation wasn't the style of either Lawson or Cerberus, and the probability of a third party getting involved was low to say the least-

Shepard's train of thought was cut off by the sudden activation of the door's circuits.

From the outside.

I suppose we'll find out what this is all about now, anyway... Shepard had thought abstractly as he watched the door open with clinical detachment, already as physically prepared as he could be without getting shot by Cameron; the damned woman hadn't even shifted her gun away from his head.

The door had opened-

To reveal a pair of Alliance marines, presumably part of his external escort. Beyond them was one hell of a lightshow; the city, perhaps the entire colony, was under attack by a large number of spacecraft that appeared to be criminal in nature and intent on blasting everything jutting out of the ground with sufficient ammunition to raze it, regardless of whether it was organic or structural in nature.

One of the humans was crouched by the door of the shuttle, his Omni tool still interfacing with the machine, the other was facing into the shuttle, rifle ready to fire.

Are any of these people ever going to get complacent or trusting or am I going to have to start putting a little faith in the human race? Shepard ranted rhetorically in his head, and a picosecond later, his wish was granted-both men were suddenly riddled with bullets, their shields apparently already down.

"Does anyone else find it funny that the universe seems to like me for some reason-" Shepard started to quip, before he decided that it wasn't particularly appropriate today.

A batarian had just stepped into their line of sight, and, from the sadistic grin on his face and the direction his gun was pointed in, it seemed likely that he could see them, too.

"Greetings, Butcher." The alien spat, relishing the moment before it pulled the trigger-

Only to be put down by a long burst of an assault rifle fired accurately into its face.

Mark clambered to his feet, somewhat shakily, and pushed the Californian's gun out of Shepard's face. The look Cameron shot him told Shepard two things; first, she had really been looking forward to putting a bullet in his skull, which was both curiously satisfying and not a particularly auspicious omen, and second, that they were rather more familiar than Alliance protocol allowed for.

Hypocrites... Shepard sniffed mentally.

"I think we're gonna need him." Mark said apologetically.

"Lover boy's right, pet. So were you. This one's about yours truly, so why don't we go see what they want?"

If looks could kill, Cameron would already have been dead before she could end Shepard with her venomous glance. She jerked her head, non-verbally ordering the convict out of the shuttle and into a warzone.

"Hmm, let me think about that... no. No, I'm not going anywhere at least until you take these cuffs off, though I'm not going to get my hopes up enough for a weapon..." You're not scared enough. Yet.

Mark obliged, and Shepard darted off of the shuttle, immediately absorbing as much of his surroundings as he could; Batarian team leaving building, aware of presence, though not currently within effective firing range-scratch that, sniper-

Shepard flung himself to the floor all of a second before a high velocity round buzzed angrily over his head, before rolling to his feet and immediately picking up the corpse of one of the marines as portable cover-their shields might have been dead, but the armour, meat and bone would do more to stop bullets than his coat.

Without bothering to pause for his captors and comrades, he crossed the street and moved for the entrance to a building and the less temporary safety that it offered, as well as attempting to put some distance between him and the aliens. As he did so, the batarians entered effective range for their weaponry and firing skill, and Thaddaeus felt his 'meat shield' shuddering under the impacts. He quickened his pace, concerned that a lucky shot might puncture the armour and retain sufficient velocity to continue and hit him.

He managed to reach a building which had sufficiently large ground floor windows for him to fit through, as predictably, most inhabitants had locked their doors. He launched the dead marine at the window with sufficient force to break the glass, then dived through after the corpse, managing to clear the area of the floor covered with shards of glass. Recognising a crude potential weapon, he carefully selected a few of the larger, more jagged shards and put them in his coat pockets, before dragging the marine further into the room, away from the windows, and inspecting the Omni tool processor on the man's left wrist.

Unfortunately, the computer was linked to a power source that was embedded in the man's armour, but, theoretically, it should be possible to provide sufficient power to be able to eject the processor and power cell with another Omni tool, at which point Shepard thought it possible that he'd be able to cannibalise a computer of his own, which would be helpful as his own had been confiscated.

The issue was whether his guards would see it that way.

A cacophony of gunfire and curses announced their presence, backing quickly away from the larger, advancing force of batarians, ducking and scrambling to attempt to avoid being hit, and firing wildly in a sloppy attempt to discourage pursuit. Mark was first into the building, clambering awkwardly through the window before quickly moving out of the way so that Cameron could hurl herself through behind him.

Not bothering to wait for them to recover, Shepard spoke up. "Could I possibly have use of an Omni tool?"

They responded simultaneously, and predictably, Mark with "Why?" somewhat cautiously, Cameron with a scornful "No."

Ignoring the latter rather pointedly, Shepard held up the dead marine's wrist and shook it so that the man's hand moved in a rather morbid and grotesque imitation of a wave. Mark winced, and carefully focussed his gaze on Shepard's smug, scarred face, lips quirked in a smirk at the man's discomfort.

"I was hoping to cannibalise an Omni tool. I need you to extract the processing chip and the power cell."

Cameron butted in "And then you'll have a weapon. Just what we need..."

"Actually, yes. You may not have connected the dots, but the nice people attacking the colonies are all members of the batarian species. I happen to be rather good at killing batarians." And everything else...

"And the people on your side." Cameron retorted.

"Wouldn't have killed them if I didn't need to; after all, look at where it left me, and right now, you two are a couple of extra hands to hold guns, which currently improves my chance of survival rather drastically. So, what do you say?" Shepard's hands went into his pockets, aware that this was the point at which they would either elect to shoot him or grant him some small freedoms.

Then, a device sailed through the window and clattered onto the ground that rather changed the nature of the situation.

A stun grenade.