The scarlet and black, sword wielding splotch stood a stark contrast to the sea of Alliance types around him. Why do they ware their ranks on their collars? It's just so… American! The man strode through the ocean of grey and blue, he noticed a few of the NCO's pointing and laughing at him.
"Look there, it's a ground hog!" jeered one of them, calling more of his pack over to him.
"He thinks he is so smart what with his sword and all, compensating for something he doesn't have I say." Put in another.
"And why in God's name would you dare to ware that." She said pointing at his Woolsey helmet.
"I know right? It looks like it has a… clam on it. It takes a special kind of retard put a clam on their uniform."
The sword wielding man approached them approached them. "Good afternoon gentlemen, miss. Circus battalion is that way." He raised his arm and pointed in any which way, and continued walking by on his own business. They didn't even salute, disgusting! For that matter, none of these Alliance types did! But the man in the red tunic had more important things to worry about; he was supposed to find a certain Commander John Doe. Another wretched Alliance type. He mentally grumbled on about the inferiorities of his Alliance brothers in arms.
Real soldiers don't spend their free time on ships and in the pants of Asri. Real soldiers actually fight wars. He looked down at his scarlet tunic, his chest was emblazoned with medals though one maroon one was his pride and joy, he and the rest of his platoon received the Victoria Cross in the second battle of Queenston Heights, Pro Valour then replaced the old motto of his regiment. (The Lincoln and Welland Regiment) The first time it had been awarded since World War Two, three hundred years ago.
Eventually, after being swamped by alliance men and woman, he found the place he was looking for, the door said 621 he reached for the peace of paper (as He was a traditional man) that held the address of his meeting.
Room 621,
Alliance North America headquarters,
Vancouver ,
British Columbia.
Yup this was the place, he cracked his knuckles and knocked on the door. "Enter!" said a rather plain though distinctly manly voice.
The man opened the door, saluted, long way up, short way down, and remained at attention. Unmoving, and unfigeting, his eyes looked as though they would burn a hole in the wall.
"Relax captain, Please sit." Said a tall Caucasian man with crew cut black hair and icy blue eyes. He was staring out of his window; he did not even turn to look at him.
The Captain looked around the room, every wall was infested with books though he couldn't make out the titles on them, he marched over to the desk in front of the Caucasian man (who still hadn't taken his eyes away from the window) and sat down, and took of his Woolsey helmet, putting it on his lap. The man before him had a certain ... aura about him, and seemed to be … haunted like when you did something wrong and you're awaiting your punishment.
The man's desk was very neat and military like, a fat stack of papers filled half of the desk, next to it was a holo-picture, of what he couldn't see, a computer with all of the necessary accompaniments, and an orange Omni pad with something that looked like a purple cuttlefish on it.
"Dominic Liuzzi, born in Welland, Niagara, Ontario, Canada." The man finally detached himself from the window, and sat down in his swivel chair. He picked up the holo pad and changed the page a few times.
"You fought in the North American unification war and held the line at Queenston Heights against all odds for three days, until you and your platoon where relieved by the RCR and the Highland Fusiliers of Canada, for which you and your men received the VC. The first in a long time, very impressive." He looked up and Dominic's brown-green eyes met his icy blue for the first time. They were very penetrating, and Dominic felt very naked until he found his words.
"If you don't mine me asking sir, is there a reason you're going over this information with me? It's been a long journey here from Niagara." He said
"You right, I am here to broker a deal with you, can you handle information captain?" the man straitened himself out in his chair.
"Of course sir." He leaned forward with renewed interest.
"Have you ever heard of an extinct race of aliens known as the Protheans?" Lights went on in Dominic's mind.
"Of course, I have a bachelors in history from the Royal Military Collage."
"Then you know that they have been wiped out by another ancient race even older then the Protheans, a race of sentient machines known as Reapers?"
At this Dominic raised an eyebrow, more of the superstitious theory's that the alliance had busted though, as an avid historian himself, Dominic remained open to possibilities in periods of pre-history.
"That is one train of thought yes, though it is a very recent one, the more accepted belief is they were wiped out by total war and disease."
The Commander sighed heavily "War against the Reapers! And if we don't sand together, with able leaders such as yourself, we will meet the same fate as the Protheans!"
Dominic furrowed his eyebrows with suspicion. "Who are you sir, who are you really?"
The Commander chuckled "Take a wild guess."
"No, are you really?" He said in awe.
"In the flesh, and I want you to help me defeat the Reapers."
"I… I don't know what to say. To work with the first human spectre … that would be … an honour sir."
"Glad to hear I have the approval of the CF on this matter." He smiled, Shepard looked like he was going to say something else but he was interrupted by another knock on the door.
"Enter." The door opened and an alliance officer of heavy build and average height stomped into the room giving a rather sluggish salute as he went along. Disgusting!
"Afternoon Commander, who is this you have here?" is that a goatee, good lord! The standards set by the Alliance are pathetic, though he does look like he just killed somebody…. Indeed he seemed to be a very brutish fellow.
But the commander treated him like an old friend, he got up and out of his chair and shook hands with the brute. "Afternoon James, this is Captain Dominic Liuzzi, he is in the CF."
The brute smiled and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you captain, Lieutenant James Vega…"
For a moment Dominic just stared at him then he noticed he was being impolite and took his hand. "Certainly lieutenant."
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked James, Dominic stood up, his left hand resting on his sword.
"Oh nothing. It's been a long day, one end of the country to the other."
"Hate to cut this short but the defense counsel wants to see you Shepard." James said turning away from Dominic.
"Really? Sounds interesting…"
Shepard turned to face Dominic " I know you haven't given me an answer as to whether you want to help or not we but we all need to stand and fight angst the reapers, I want you to with the Seaforth Highlanders to an alliance facility in Prince George…" Shepard threw something at him "Go there to extract project CATALYST and signal me using your Omni Tool, its already been uploaded how."
And just like that they left and Dominic was alone.
(OOC) So there it is the first chapter, and yes I know the title has nothing to do with the story, but it got you interested yes? For futher notice the CF is the CANADIAN FORCES, RCR is the Royal Canadian Regiment and CIRCUS BATTALION is a away that the combat arms describes support parts of the army (they pitich big tents and are led by clowns) and Dominic is in an Admin area, therefore they are the Circus battalion.
Remember to review it inspires me to write!
Edit, on request here is a total list of Canadian military jargon .org/wiki/Appendix:Canadian_English_military_slang
