Author note:

Not entirely sure I'm satisfied with this instalment, I may come back and change it at a later date, but to be honest, I was keen to move on to the aftermath... As ever, I would really appreciate feedback.

Cassius Ops

The Two moved on through the facility, O'Reilly limping, Shepard gradually becoming more and more aware of his various cuts and bruises as time went on and he became more and more exhausted. His movements indicated no such weakness, as apparently languid and effortlessly graceful as ever.

However, he reacted a bit slower than he ordinarily would have when the Irishman and he rounded a corner-

And walked straight into a barrage of rounds from a group of batarian troopers presumably posted there to eliminate the advancing humans and reclaim the data and samples of their work. Both men had their shields wiped out in moments, and Shepard took some staggering rounds to his chest, thankfully missing his coat before he could back up enough to get out of their line of fire.

O'Reilly was knocked from his feet, but managed to open fire in response in spite of this, bringing down a batarian before the batarians ducked into cover. Shepard heard the lull in fire and immediately moved around the corner, pistol raised and knife at the ready, and charged the batarian position.

He made it within five metres of the foe before they realised what was happening, rose up and opened fire. Shepard threw himself down to make use of their own cover, raising his pistol over the barricade and firing several rounds at one of the sources of the bullets, before vaulting the obstacle and bringing down a batarian with a roundhouse kick to the jaw, before turning to hurl his knife into the throat of the alien behind him.

Knives cannot be launched by hand as fast as bullets; before the batarian was killed, his finger pulled the trigger, and held it in a death grip as Shepard's knife entered his brain. Shepard reflexively threw himself to one side, arms thrown up to protect his face-

Not fast enough. Even as he began to move, a trio of rounds seared past his neck, just above where his armour ended, opening bloody gashes up in the left side of his neck. Shepard hit the ground, and realised two things.

First, one of the rounds had severed his carotid artery. He didn't have long to staunch the bleeding before he would lose consciousness and die.

Second, he was not yet alone. A batarian stood over him, grinning as he watched the human as he began to bleed to death. Shepard went for his pistol. The alien stood on his wrist, but was content to simply watch. Shepard began to hyperventilate; his vision darkened. He futilely clapped a hand over the rent section of his skin, applying pressure but failing to slow the process significantly.

Where the fuck is that bloody Irishman when you need him? Shepard went cold as he realised that it was entirely possible that O'Reilly had elected to let him die before finishing the mission alone. Cassius Ops. Betraying one's allies, named after the lesser known friend of Caesar that stabbed him in the back. How ironic if that was to be what killed him...

He looked up at the creature that was so focussed on ensuring his agonising demise, trying to think of something that he could do...

Shepard's eyes rolled back in his head before his lids closed. The blood still flooded from his wound to the rhythm of his frantic but slowing heartbeat, as his breathing grew shallower and shallower. The batarian removed his boot-

And Shepard's eyes snapped open. He was desperately weak from blood loss, and it was a constant struggle to retain consciousness, but he somehow managed to surge to his feet as-

The batarian's head exploded from a couple of quick rounds from O'Reilly, who, Shepard noted, was pale and sweating, swaying on his feet. Then Shepard was doing the swaying, and toppled into the wall, before sluggishly applying medigel to his cut, and giving himself a dose of adrenaline. He knew he needed a transfusion; however, this was still not something that troopers or even medics carried with them, and it would have to wait. He lurched back to his feet, and attempted to shake off the fog that clouded his brain.

"Better late than never, Private." He said, concentrating on not slurring his words, and managing fairly well.

"And I think that is an exceptional example of why snipers shouldn't go in for close quarters combat unless completely necessary."

"It was... necessary..." Shepard retorted ineffectually, having serious trouble maintaining a coherent thought process.

They managed to move on, having to support each other to an extent to maximise efficiency, something that Shepard disliked having to do, to say the least. He realised that greater cautiousness was highly advisable in the future, with a good deal less arrogance; Murphy's didn't discriminate between those that deserved to live and those who didn't; those who deserved to live were those that did live in spite of the situation.

They weren't moving fast enough to keep up with the batarian evac, however, and reached the interrogation block to find it deserted; save for a rather large bomb intended to erase the Hegemony's actions on the wretched moon. There, they also found Major Kyle.

The man was in poor condition.

His face was battered, bloodied and bruised, one of his eyes had been put out, most of his teeth had been removed, and his twisted and mutilated limbs and digits spoke for themselves. Shepard winced inwardly at the sheer crudity of the work; there was no refinement, this was done out of virtually mindless sadism.

Shepard reluctantly grabbed the officer and slung him over his shoulder in a fireman's lift; the Irishman already had the bag containing the samples and data from the experiments, and was in as bad a state as the psychopath, now.

The bomb was hastily hacked by Shepard in order to give the marines time to retrace their steps, giving them fifteen minutes to flee the area and link up with Alliance forces.

Nothing is ever that simple. Their progress was slower than Shepard had estimated, and they were running out of time already as they moved back towards the lab to find an exit that wouldn't send them back through the realm of the test subjects. Shepard retreated inwards, focussing on moving as quickly and efficiently as possible, no longer paying attention to his surroundings. He didn't see that a batarian wasn't dead, only unconscious, and gradually reviving.

He didn't see the alien get up and point a shotgun at his back.

O'Reilly did, and instinctively moved into the way, drawing his gun and opening fire at the same time as the alien. Both fell, still alive. Neither of them would remain so for long.

Shepard turned at the gunshots, his pistol raised. In a moment, he realised what must have happened. He inclined his head in their direction, and simply said "My thanks to you both." He continued on his way, staggered out of the base all of thirty seconds before the bomb detonated, and simply dropped his commanding officer before sinking to the ground alongside him. At that moment, he realised that the data from the batarian experiments was still with O'Reilly, probably separated into its constituent atoms by now. He cursed vehemently, and placed his Karpov pistol against Kyle's forehead out of an irrational sense of rage and vindictiveness.

Kyle chose this inconvenient moment to regain consciousness. He mumbled as he revived, then began to rave and gibber as he took in his surroundings, mostly saying things about the man in front of him, somehow recognising him. The nicest thing that was said, other than Shepard's name, was 'Demon'. Angel Eyes snorted, holstered his sidearm, certain that Kyle was no threat, and considered the man's ravings. Demon. Fallen Angel. That would have been appropriate, if Shepard had ever indeed fallen...

He then called Command for pickup, and activated his GPS distress transponder, before finally allowing himself to lose consciousness.