I don't own either Mass Effect or the AvP franchise

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USM Normandy, on approach to Eden Prime

"This is Dog Squad for Unit 212 command, we're under attack! I repeat we're under attack. Multiple hostiles inbound, we need-"

The image froze, showing a USM marine in full combat armour.

Captain Anderson looked around the briefing room, where two other humans and a turian were watching the recording. "That was the last communication from that unit before they were cut off. As far as we can tell they have made no further attempts to communicate. Nor has there been a response from the 212, who, according to our latest information, were tasked with guarding the prothean dig site. At the moment the entire colony is under communication black-out and both observation and communication satellites have been destroyed. No indication as to the nature of the enemy. We've deployed recon drones, but considering our approach speed, they'll arrive over Eden Prime's primary colony about the same time that we hit the planet ourselves."

"Pirates?" Lieutenant Alenko suggested.

"Possibly. But if so, I'd expect more electronic noise. Whoever is doing, they're maintaining excellent communication discipline. In any case, the colony is on the far side of the planet, so with the satellites down, we don't have direct observations. In any case, we have to assume that whoever is doing is here for the beacon. And that means we have to do all we can to stop them. Unfortunately, Eden Prime does not have a naval squadron assigned. I've informed HQ and Arcturus is scrambling ships, but it will take them hours to deploy. For the moment, we're it. Commander Shepard?"

"Sir."

"You will deploy ground-side with a full combat unit. Spectre Kryik, I assume you wish to accompany them?"

The turian nodded stiffly. "That is correct, Captain. The beacon must not fall into the wrong talons."

"Wait," Shepard spoke up. "That's easier said than done. Half a dozen marines and one turian against god knows what. What if we cannot secure the beacon? Do we destroy it?"

Captain Anderson considered for a moment. "Not an easy call to make. Spectre, your judgement? What's preferable? The beacon intact but in enemy hands, or permanently destroyed?"

Turian faces were covered in hard plates and didn't really twitch the way human faces did, but Kryik's discomfort was clear even to an untrained observer. "That's an impossible choice captain. The data in that beacon, the technology... To lose it forever would be a terrible waste, not to mention the effect it would have on the relationship between your people and the Citadel if humans destroyed such an extraordinary find. But to let someone else carry it off..." His talons snapped together in what appeared to be a sign of frustration. "No. Destruction is too final. If it is captured it can still be retrieved. Commander, on my authority as Council Spectre, I strongly urge you not to destroy the beacon, even to prevent the enemy from carrying it off. I may change that judgement depending on what we're facing, assuming I'm still alive at that point, but that's my recommendation based on my current understanding of the situation."

Shepard nodded. "Fair enough. That leaves the matter of insertion. No matter what is going on, I think it's safe to say that we lack the firepower to engage the enemy head-on, either in space or on the ground, so we'll have to keep a low profile. We're already in stealth mode and Lieutenant Moreaux will keep the planet between us and the enemy for as long as possible. Even if the enemy detected the relay transit, they will not see us coming in until we enter the atmosphere. For the same reason, we'll deploy on foot. We're not planning on fighting a battle. Stealth is the key, not firepower. Bringing the MAKO would just painting a giant target on us."

She stood up. "Sir, with your permission, I'll go and brief my team."

Anderson nodded. "Go ahead, Commander. I'll keep you informed of any new developments."

-o-o-o-

Four marines in combat gear were assembled in Normandy's cargo bay when Shepard and Alenko walked out of the elevator. All were dressed in the drab grey-brown-green combat armour of the United Systems Military. That colour pattern had remained mostly the same over the preceding decades, but the equipment itself had changed considerably. Whereas their predecessors in the First Contact War had gone into battle wearing light, flexible body armour, these marines were wearing battlesuits reinforced with armour plates, which, though still considered only light armour by the standards of most species and organisations, gave at least some protection against mass accelerator fire. Their weapons had changed as well. The Lacrimae assault rifles, which had been the mainstay of the United Systems marines had recently started to give way to the new Draco Double Burner weapon systems. The new armour was generally appreciated, especially by the older generation who had unpleasant memories of turian mass accelerator rounds that ripped straight through body armour and body alike. The new weapons were a more dubious issue. A generation earlier, the Lacrimae had had a tough time gaining acceptance from those who had been used to the venerable M41 Pullsrifle, and its reputation had suffered during the First Contact War when put against turians, whose armour had proved a tough nut to crack for the Lacrimae's light bullets. Still, it had been a known quantity and the high tech grenade launcher had been appreciated for its accuracy and versatility. Now it was being phased and it looked like its successor faced the same uphill struggle to gain acceptance amongst the rank-and-file.

"Listen up!" Shepard took a quick look to ensure that everyone was paying attention. "By now, I'm sure you've all heard the good news. Our milk-run just turned into a combat drop. Unfortunately, we don't have the slightest idea what's going on. Could be pirates, could be the batarians are back for another round. I have absolutely no idea what we're going to find. So, we'll have to figure it out along the way, but make sure you keep one thing in mind: No matter what is happening down there, there is no way the six of us are going to fix it. We have a limited objective, to secure the beacon, if at all possible. That means we have to be able to get close and that will require stealth. The only other objective is to gather information. Again, that works better if we remain undetected. Avoid combat when you can, stay alive and get the job done. This is not the time for heroics. "

She looked at one of the marines.

"Jenkins, you're from Eden Prime, correct?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. You're staying close to me. I may need your advice on local conditions."

Jenkins grinned. "Yes, ma'am. It's an honour, ma'am."

"Careful, with that enthusiasm, Jenkins."

"Just eager for my first mission, ma'am."

Don't roll your eyes, don't roll your eyes, Somehow she managed to restrain herself. "You'll be fine, marine. Just remember your training, and don't forget to duck." Shepard made herself smile, though she was not feeling particularly humorous. Enthusiasm was good, but only in small quantities, and maintaining the correct balance between eagerness and caution was always tough, especially with rookies straight out of training. It also wasn't her job, strictly speaking. Depressing enthusiasm was part of an NCO's function, not the officers'. Unfortunately, she didn't have any NCOs available. The marine unit aboard Normandy was so small -only half a rifle squad- that she was stuck with five privates. There should have been twice as many, with at least a corporal in charge, but Normandy was still on her shakedown cruise and the brass hadn't thought it necessary to embark her full ground combat team. That left a massive hole in the table of organisation between herself and Lieutenant Alenko on one hand, and the five marines on the other. Fortunately, Alenko was good with personnel issues, better than she was in fact and, somewhat to her surprise, he had managed to overcome the unease that many people felt around biotics. Still, it was in moments like this that she missed having an experienced sergeant around to kick the behinds of overeager puppies like Jenkins.

She turned to address the rest of the unit. "One more thing. Because of the situation with the beacon, our turian guest is going to accompany us. He's supposed to be able to handle himself, but he's not used to playing with our kind of team; so, everyone, make sure to stay out of his line of fire and try not to have any friendly-fire accidents yourselves either. The Citadel Council would like to get their Spectre back in one piece and I shudder to think of the paperwork I'd have to fill out if one of you apes puts a round into him."

There were some chuckles.

"Now, everyone, sit down and relax. We have another hour before we can hit the dirt."

-o-o-o-

Eden Prime, main colony

WIth roaring engines, USM Normandy swept over the ridgeline and braked sharply to hover just above the ground.

"Go! go! go!"

Seven figures, six human and one turian jumped out of the cargo hold.

"Shepard to Normandy, team is dirtside, GO!"

The engines roared again and the frigate lifted off, moving up and away from the small landing force.

"Everyone, check comm-gear. Alenko, link in on the local network an see what we're dealing with." Shepard walked the few steps to the edge and looked around. From where they were they had a perfect view over the city. It wasn't looking good. Even from this distance, the place looked a mess. Several of the massive pre-fab high rises that had been installed with the initial settlement were on fire, the smoke billowing up in dark clouds that obscured parts of the city. There was no sign of enemy warships, or atmospheric craft and the defensive gun platforms that should have protected this part of the planet were silent.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes, Lieutenant."

"It's no use. The city network has been taken off the grid. I cannot get in, and nothing comes out. I may be able to get more, once we're inside, but I doubt it. Whoever is doing this has fiendishly good cyber warfare equipment."

"What about the garrison?"

"Their network is still up. Most of the hubs are working, but no comm-traffic. I found some old messages in the buffer, but not much use. Units reporting that they're under fire. Most of them get cut off very quickly. There is jamming everywhere."

"I see." Shepard activated the squad communications. "Heads up! It looks like we're on our own. Either the garrison is gone, or they're being jammed. Either way, they're no use to us. Stay close to each other. I want direct, line-of-sight communications for everyone. And activate your motion trackers. If anything moves, I want to know first. Jenkins!?"

"Ma'am?"

"What's with the local wildlife? Do we need to shoot it?" She gestured at a small cluster of creatures that seemed to be floating in the air.

"The gasbags?" Jenkins shook his head. "No, ma'am. They're harmless. They just float around unless you spook 'em. In fact, shooting them would be bad. They're like hydrogen balloons, ma'am."

"They burn?" Shepard smirked. "Could be useful if we can get the enemy to walk up to them. Something to keep in mind. Everyone, lock the location of the dig site into your nav systems. That's our primary goal." She cast a glance at Nihlus who was standing silently, a bit off to the side. "Shields up and move out!"

-o-o-o-

SIx humans and one turian moved cautiously along the mountain trail. Far off in the distance, they could hear bursts of gun fire, but it was rather desultory, evidence of the occasional firefight, rather than an ongoing battle.

"Ma'am, movement, two-o'clock, far."

"Squad, cover!"

The marines dove behind rocks and trees, followed within a seocnd by their turian companion. Shepard surveyed the terrain ahead. They were approaching a small clearing, where the path turned sharply to he right. She swung her rifle in the direction that private Estanza had indicated.

Motion trackers had a long history with the marines. The original models, used by colonial marines had been awkward and cumbersome, hampering the user and making it nearly impossible to use them, while still using a rifle. Over time they had been steadily improved until, by the time of first contact war, they were not much bigger than a flashlight. The latest model, which had just come into service was even smaller and could be clipped to the barrel of a rifle in the same fashion that generations past had used flashlights and laser scopes, showing their read-out on a small screen next to the rifle sight. An even more advance model, which would feed the data directly into a helmet display, was available, but none of her marines carried that version yet.

There! Motion trackers were always imprecise, especially when it came to distance, but the situation was clear enough. Two entities, moving along the path beyond the clearing.

"Movement confirmed. Everyone, heads up. Spread out and prepare to engage."

The marines pressed forward slowly, moving up to the edge of the clearing. Shepard scanned the surrounding area, marking the positions of her squad, the turian Spectre, and the point where she expected the unknown contacts to appear. Her eyes narrowed. One of the marines was out of position, too far-

"Jenkins, fall back!"

At that very moment, she spotted movement in the distance. Something small, flying between the trees.

"I've got them spotted! Moving up!"

"Jenkins, wait! Hold-"

It was a waste of breath. Shepard might as well have been speaking Prothean for all the attention Jenkins paid her. His adrenalin was up and nothing in the world was going to stop him. Well, nothing, except for a burst of automatic fire from a drone that popped up from behind a rock. It wasn't enough to kill him, but several bullets ripped through his shields and into his armour, causing him to stumble. Jenkins turned, raising his rifle, but he never got a shot off. A second drone had appeared behind the first and this time the impact of the mass accelerator rounds proved too much for his body armour. At least three rounds went through and into his chest and Jenkins collapsed.

"Drones! Everyone, stay in cover. Alenko, electronics. Nihlus..." She turned around but there was clearly no need to worry. The Spectre was kneeling behind a large boulder, his shotgun ready and the faint glow of a kinetic barrier around him. Shepard leaned forward a little, just enough to look around her cover. As it turned out, that was not a good idea. The drones were flying high enough to have a clear few of the battlefield and they picked up her movements instantly. She barely had time to duck back into cover before a stream of bullets smashed into the rocks where her head had been. Return fire erupted from between the rocks as some of the Marines took advantage of the opportunity to get a few shots off, but they all went wide.

"Fuck." This was not a good situation. The drones were out in the open, easy targets in theory, but they were also small and constantly manoeuvering. A snapshot was unlikely to hit them and standing still long enough to aim would be suicide. They needed to immobilize them before they finished them off.

-o-o-o-

Kaidan Alenko hunkered down behind a rock and flipped open the pocket computer that was attached to his left arm. Humanity had never embraced the omnitools that were ubiquitous among the Citadel species, but part of the idea had stuck and they'd come up with a version of their own. Two small eye-pieces popped out of his helmet. They were the latest in technology, capable of providing the user with a VR image based on sensor input that overlapped his normal vision without the need for his eyes to refocus. It was disorienting for the untrained, but specialists could use it to great effect. In less than a second, the image stabilized effectively giving Alenko a sixth sense, as though he was sensitive to electromagnetic fields. It made for an interesting picture. Nihlus Kryik was lit up like a Christmas tree, covered in all kinds of electronic devices each with its own power source. Shepard's signal was more muted, like that of the other marines, but, even through her shield, Alenko picked up a faint glow from her rifle sight and her communicator appeared as the centre of a spider web, a connecting point for lines reaching out to himself, Nihlus, their squadmates and the hubs of the local military network. And beyond that-

There! The marine lieutenant smiled. Two objects. Power sources, active scanners, comm-links. His fingers moved in the air, activating pressure sensors inside his gloves. His computer employed an active emitter, while passive sensors analyzed the data structure that came from the unknown objects' systems.

"Commander?"

"Yes."

"I have them. I can scramble their navigation systems. Counting down from three. Three, two, one. NOW!"

He sent the command.

Both drones froze in mid-air, suddenly unaware of their own location. Their navigation systems instantly rebooted, but for a second they remained motionless. At that same moment, Shepard, Nihlus and the surviving marines came out from behind cover and opened fire. The drones were well armed, but they lacked armour or shielding. A few hits were all it took for both of them to come apart in mid-air.

"No further energy sources. All clear."

-o-o-o-

The squad emerged cautiously from cover. Alenko knelt down next to Jenkins and checked the medical read-out on his armour.

"That last burtst went straight through. He's gone."

Shepard cursed under her breath. "Well, I think we can safely assume that whoever is out there knows we're here now. No need for playing coy anymore. Alenko, I want two recon drones ahead of us at all times."

The lieutenant nodded stiffly. He entered a command into his computer and two small spheres floated out of a container that had been clipped to his backpack. They hovered in mid-air for a moment, then they took off, scanning their surroundings as they moved. Shepard watched them go, then looked at Jenkins' body, her eyes bleak. "Bloody fool. Eager for his first mission. Well, I sure as hell hope he enjoyed it. It's not like he's going to get a second one."

Nihlus Kryik had stood by as the humans dealt with their fallen comrade. Now he approached, somewhat cautiously.

"Commander Shepard."

"Yes."

"I'm not sure I understand what happened. You gave him a clear order. Why would he disobey?"

"He didn't. He never heard the order; or rather, he heard it, but it didn't register." Shepard shrugged, the movement barely perceptible through her armour. "I've seen it before. First time in combat, some rookies freeze, some run, some rush forward. You can train people until hell freezes over, life-fire exercises, VR scenarios, all of that shit. But the real thing can still mess people up. If he'd lived through this first engagement, he'd probably have been okay in a few minutes. But he didn't." She turned to Alenko. "Give me his tags and mark the location of his body for pickup. Let's go people. We still have a job to do."


A/N

In this universe, Shepard is obviously not a Spectre candidate, so I needed a new narrative for hers and Nihlus' roles. For one thing, there is no way she would let Nihlus run around on his own in this political climate. Then again, the original story didn't make all that much sense either. Nihlus is supposed to evaluate Shepard, but how? If Saren hadn't shown up, the Eden Prime mission would have been trivial. Nihlus would have watched, while Shepard put the beacon in a crate, carried it aboard Normandy, and delivered it to the Citadel. More a job for FedEx than a potential Spectre. I suppose Nihlus was supposed to stick around for several missions. However, here's the thing: When the shit hits the fan, giving him a real opportunity to evaluate Shepard, Nihlus goes off on his own, ruining any chance he had of seeing Shepard in action. So much for the whole evaluation thing!