Chapter Three

Hello all, sorry about lateness, struggling with a full schedule and trying to work out which course this story should take. Am thinking of having some extra chapters dedicated to the description of various weapons, armours and vessels so you all can get a good clear picture. Trying to find an illustrator as well but so far no luck. Hope you all enjoy, see if you can spot all the references to all things British and Commonwealth who ever spots the most gets to design a character for this story. (No this is not me being lazy I assure you)

It had been several months since the H.M.S.S. Wellington had arrived on the Citadel. Lance-Corporal Fred Ward of the 2nd Marine Division of the N.Z.G.E.F. (New Zealand Galactic expeditionary Force) was slowly beginning to feel comfortable.

The past few months had been busy, a Human embassy had been built on the Presidium, translators had been updated to understand all Council languages and all possible information on Humanity had been placed on the extra-net (No easy feat, it had taken months to upload all that material).

On top of all that, Human personnel had been under strong restrictions both by C-Sec and their own Military Police. No human was allowed to leave the docking bay without an escort and whenever groups were allowed to go out it was always with a heavy C-Sec escort and the bars or other areas they went to were always evacuated of civilians by the time they got there. Worse of all, fraternization, especially with the sexy blue humanoid females (Saris? Barlies? Asallies? Something like that anyway) was absolutely and totally banned. Several navel ratings and even a pilot officer who'd been caught trying to sneak out had been placed in the brig for a week with loss of pay. It didn't help that if C-Sec didn't catch then, the damn red-caps would, and it was Fred's job as Lance-Corporal to ensure that the men of his rifle squad didn't wind up in the cooler.

Fred's squad was a decent bunch of blokes, yeah they were a bit rough round the edges but they could be counted on and that's all that mattered. There was "Tubby" Ted, who ironically was thin as a rake, with a mop of blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, while he seemed easy going, he was also the teams Machine gunner and heavy weapons expert with a decided case of pyromania. Next was Theo Ngahua, otherwise known as Tiki, after the Maori fertility icon he wore round his neck. He was by far the biggest of the group, but his size was all due to muscle. While he wasn't the silent-brooding type, he did have his quiet moments, but he got on well and was a barrel of laughs when it came to having a good night out with the lads. The other two in the squad were Donovan and Martha, both were tall, slim and had dark brown hair but there the similarities ended, Martha was an experienced combat veteran and didn't suffer fools gladly, her hazel eyes also had a habit of glittering when she was close to putting her boot up someone's backside. She was also an anti-tank expert and had earned her gold tank badge after her 100th tank kill. Donovan on the other hand was the newbie. Called "Young fulla" by the rest of the squad, he was a bit of a joker but thankfully new when to shut up. He had yet to see combat though and Fred quietly prayed that he wouldn't see any while in the middle of Alien space.

At present his squad along with a handful of other marines were stuck in a rugby scrum against a bunch of navel ratings from the ship, the game was currently standing at 5-3 in favour of the Wellington's crew and the marines were determined to even the odds. Fred turned away from his squad as his omni-tool beeped sharply. He sighed as he realised it was a summons for him to come to the briefing room on board the Wellington. He started back across the docking bay to the ship as a cheer rose from the spectators of the impromptu rugby match.

As he arrived in the briefing room Fred was surprised to see Commander Munro was conducting the briefing. Standing next to the commander was the first Human ambassador to the Citadel Patricia Fulcrum, a life-long politician who was already proving herself more than a match for the cut-throat world of Galactic politics. On the Commander's other side was a red-book, she was a young woman with pitch black hair and warm green eyes, her black M7 armour hide her body shape but she still caught the attention of nearly everyone in the room.

"Sit down Corporal," ordered Munro. Fred's backside had barely touched the chair before the room lights were darkened and a hologram emerged from the desk at the front of the room, showing the crest of the Ministry of Information. "What you're about to see is considered top secret." Stated Munro, "Until now the only people who knew this were red-books and the Grand-Admirals. Not even the Prime Minister knows this information yet." Fred stared, if the government didn't know this, then why the hell was the Commander showing it to a Marine Non-com?

"The reason you are being told this," continued Munro, "Is because each you have been chosen by Operative Smith (Fred rolled his eyes at that one, all red-books were called Operative Smith) to escort her as she will be visiting the home planets of all Council races in order to convince them of the nature of the threat shown in this hologram.

Fred turned to look at the Operative, the only response he got was a slight quirk of the mouth.

"Now then". Said Munro, "As I am not cleared to see what's in this hologram, I leave you two to get acquainted. This room will be under time-lock for six hours."

Once Munro had left, Operative Smith (Fred decided to call her Betty named after a char lady back at training camp on Earth) turned towards him and smiled thinly, flicking the switch on the holo-projector and setting it to play. When the hologram finished and the lights came back on to their normal brightness, Fred continued to sit in his chair, utterly side-swiped by what he'd just learnt. "Reapers?" he asked still dazed. "Yes" replied Betty bluntly. "Our mission is to show our findings to the various militaries while the Wellington's diplomatic team talks to the Politians. Needless to say we have to do this quietly so as not to cause a panic." "I understand" replied Fred, "But why me and my squad? We're just plain ground-pounders not a red-book."

"Betty" looked at him coolly, her face revealing very little. "You and your squad were chosen because you are one of the single tightest teams in the Royal Space Marines," this time her smile was undoubtedly genuine. "You have a perfect service record and know how to keep secrets." She strolled behind the desk and came out with a datapad which she held out to him. "You and your squad are hereby transferred to the 7th R.S.M. regiment."

Human Embassy Citadel

Permanent Diplomatic Secretary Henry Appleby sighed as his omni-tool pinged yet again. Ever since his arrival on the Citadel he'd been playing office boy between the Human Embassy and Embassies of the various council races. While he prided himself on knowing all the ins and outs of dirty politics (The Turians and Asari in particular had already found him very adept and not to be trifled with), he was growing increasingly fed up with dealing with central bearcats, he wished to see the species on different levels, and hopefully find some useful information on the side.

He'd barely lifted his arm to read the message on his omni-tool when his door opened and his assistant Bernice Woolidge hurried in. Henry sighed quietly. While she was competent and learning the art of politics stunningly quickly, Woolidge (he never called subordinates by their first name) was always inclined to open her mouth at the wrong time. She was fastidious in picking up bad habits in others and only yesterday had shocked a Turian diplomat by explaining that his attempted at a human expression (He'd referred to a herd of Vultures) had been incorrect before mimicking a vulture complete with flapping wings (arms) in a diplomatic meeting! That had certainly caused a stir and Appleby had had to do a lot of talking to prevent Woolidge being sent to the nearest loony-bin.

Henry read the message on his omni-tool, his eyes growing wider with each word. Woolidge looked at him curiously, her face framed by her medium cut chestnut hair. "It would appear," croaked Henry, "That you have been promoted "Bernice" and you and I will be going on a little trip to meet our galactic friends on their home worlds!"

Edge of the Terminus Systems

Sergeant Green of the 7th Royal Space Marines didn't like this planet. It was bad enough that due to the electronic storms they couldn't contact their frigate, but the darkness to get to him. He and the four squads under his command were making their way through a cave system which scans had shown led to a seemingly prothean tunnel system. While they hadn't encountered anything Prothean yet, the tunnel was definitely artificial, the signs of tools on the walls a big give-away. Just as he was considering heading back and waiting for contact from H.Q. one of the soldiers' flashlights caught a glint of metal. The marines began to fan out and soon found themselves in a large round almost cathedral-like cave, on the far side of this cave was the metal that'd been glimpsed earlier.

This metal was a door, a round door roughly ten meters across, and painted in the middle was a very strange symbol. It was a black angular ellipse standing on its end, its lower half traced by a thick orange line.

As he stepped forward to examine this find, Green became aware that there seemed to be less of his men behind him, He began to turn and as he did he heard the familiar sound of Vickers Assault Rifles opening fire, his men crumpling and falling beneath the onslaught.

Almost in slow motion he saw a man moving through the carnage towards him, cutting men down left and right, instead of a gun however, he was holding a simple black umbrella, and in the other hand a long thick silver blade. What was most disturbing about this man however, was his appearance, a black bowler hat sat atop a thin pinched face which was in turn hidden behind thick rounded spectacles and a small black moustache. The rest of him could have been mistake for an old time banker, a white shirt now splattered with the blood of his men, black waistcoat and trousers, a silver pocket watch chain hanging from pocket of the waist coat. Over all this the man (if he could be called that) wore a long tan trench coat, now almost black with blood.

Green raised his rifle and fired at the oncoming vision but it simply kept coming despite the obvious bullet wounds which it suffered in silence. Green thought for a moment it must be a robot, but the blood seeping from its wounds and the growing demon-like smile on its face proved otherwise.

Green stiffened as the creature's blade cut straight through his armour and he fell backwards as his body registered the rapid loss of blood. As blackness appeared on the edges of his vision he saw the creature lean over him and, still smiling tip its hat in a friendly manner.

The last thing he heard before the blackness claimed him was a quiet but terrifying laugh.

"Mr. Smythe, how do you do?"

Well there you have it, the British Cerberus, it's going to be a lot darker with them around and I anticipate a lot of fun for our main characters. Am trying to go with a few different perspectives for a good part of this story so be prepared to meet your favourite diplomats and Marine Corporals in the following chapters.

Hope you enjoyed and until next time, pip-pip and tally ho!