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Devastation Comes In Big Packages [Planetary Annihilation/Multicross SI]

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102 – Skulkcraft
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    • 102 – Skulkcraft​

    Thunderous C-14 fire flooded the corridor, fired by a pair of Dominion marines that kept backing up further and further. They had shifted to full automatic fire, loosing thirty of their hypersonic 8mm armor-piercing steel-encased spikes per second, a fusillade that was capable of absolutely shredding most things in general despite how quickly it was depleting their ammo.

    "FUUUUUUUUUUCK!"

    "KILL IT, KILL IIIIIIT!"

    The bulkheads and walls buckled and rippled outwards from almost careless exertions of unfathomable force. The ship's main lights had cut out, the entire ship reduced to emergency power, which left only barely breathable atmosphere, gravity, and the red emergency lights. Said lights were ever being reduced in number, glass fixture and bulbs shattering, drenching a growing section of the ship in complete darkness. They kept firing before one of the marines was yanked forward with a terrified scream and squelch, the sound of tearing CMC armor barely audible over the gunfire and screams from the remaining marines. The remaining Dominion soldier yelled louder, finally turning about to try and run before the air left their body, a loop of force wrapping around their midsection and dragging them backwards. With a vicious pop and scream, the marine was bisected, both halves of their body then thrown forwards to slam at bone-crushing speeds into more Dominion forces that had arrived from the corridor intersection ahead, bowling most of them over.

    Not all, though. A brave firebat managed to keep himself from falling and instead set his feet while the marines around him struggled to get back up.

    "Burn, motherfucker!" the resocialized arsonist howled in a mixture of glee and terror.

    Twin-barreled incinerator gauntlets spewed out flames hot enough to instantly cook and kill an unarmored human being, and seconds more to kill zerglings and hydralisks. The inferno completely obscured the darkened half of the corridor in a massive cascading column of joined fire.

    Or, at least, it did.

    Until the gauntlets were squeezed and forced shut without actually shutting off the ignition of all the volatile chemicals and gasses contained in the suit. The firebat had enough time to widen their eyes and shout in alarm before they violently exploded, suit and all. The fireball flew backwards, roasting and charring the marines who'd been waiting behind. A coruscating wall of shimmering energies blinked out of existence, revealing that the initial blasts of flame had reached no further than a few feet ahead of the firebat in the first place. The Dominion marines did not have more than a second to reflect their new circumstances, some of them trying to pat out the flames, before they started dying again. Some were thrown so hard into the walls that they were stuck halfway through the bulkheads, their bodies almost liquefied in their armor. Others were torn to wet pieces of meat and metal.

    All the while, the lights exploded, in the end leaving the corridor and its gruesome dead invisible in the shadows. More marines began pouring out of the doors, as well as firebats and marauders. All of them firing with all they had, yelling defiance. In such close quarters, such a volume of fire could punch through a hardened ultralisk's carapace.

    It wouldn't be enough.

    =======================================​

    Captain Jonathan Hayes was screaming at his crew.

    This was quite the change from the norm, considering that he was one of the most even-keeled captains in the entire Dominion navy. His lack of overt notability was in and of itself a valued quality by his superiors, quiet and dependable. No major reports of issues between he and his crews, no political missteps, only a man who was willing to blow up an entire colony that was readying itself to declare independence without question as quickly and efficiently as possible. Now, however, he was red in the face, his hat askew and white mustache flecked with froth.

    "Well keep bloody calling them!" He bellowed, wincing as the sounds of screams and gunfire echoed out from the doors to the bridge. "Someone else in the fleet must know of what is happening her!"

    "I'm trying, sir! No one is picking up! Our lines are jammed!" The comm officer shrieked back as they pounded at their console.

    "How is this happening!?" Captain Hayes hissed to himself, running a sweaty palm down his face.

    The sound of something heavy thumping against the locked and secured door to the bridge made him jump in his chair. Several others on the bridge did so as well. The marines still on the bridge looked at one another before they began rechecking their weapons. For a moment, they all just listened as the last screams began to fade away, gunfire quieter and quieter before going completely silent. Hayes swallowed and reached for his service pistol at his side, an action repeated by others on the bridge as well. A single heavy bead of sweat began to make its way down his forehead along the side of his face.

    "…maybe they got-," one of the marines began before the door exploded inwards.

    Hayes whipped out his pistol and began firing into the smoke and flaming ruin that was on the other side, the result of a battle involving marauders and firebats in extremely close quarters. He was joined in his attack by the rest of the living marines and those on the bridge with their own weapons. At some point he began screaming, as did others. As they watched, some of the marines exploded where they stood. Some were thrown into the ceiling, disgustingly pancaking the humans within as well as the thick CMC armor they wore. Others gave a scream turned gurgle as a bolt of what looked like lightning struck them, piercing through faceplates and into the marines within, vaporizing the bodies instantly.

    Just before the end, Hayes finally saw what had slaughtered its way through his ship.

    A floating debris field made up of bone and sheared off pieces of CMC armor, red and black alike, covered them like a sphere. Within was a lithe yet bulky figure, splashed liberally with the blood of those they'd torn apart, those brave soldiers who had been reduced from human beings into pieces of dead meat. In some place the red had turned black as it was turned to char by the attempts of the firebats. They were faceless, inhuman, just a smooth pane of unknown alloys that regarded him without care or emotion, tilting to the side like a predatory bird examining its dying prey. One hand went up, and a blast of lightning shot out, striking and killing crewman after crewman, the bolt bouncing between them all until dissipating leaving only blackened skeletons behind.

    Hayes was the last one alive.

    "What…what are you…?!" He gasped out as he was forcibly lifted off the ground by the creature's power, floated closer and closer to it.

    "Your new master," it said, voice a monstrous metallic growl.

    Then its blood-soaked hand pressed against his forehead and his world went white.

    ========================================​

    Yuriko paused, inhaling deeply through the helmets cleaning air filters, blinking as she looked at the blinking communication request out of the corner of her eye. With a twitch and double blink of her eye, it opened up revealing a slightly sweaty and dusty face with stress lines along the forehead and slightly greying hair. The background was of the bridge of the Hyperion, the camera view pulling back to reveal Raynor, Matt, and Tychus. Well, the first two at least. Tychus was on the bridge, at least as far as she could see, but the man himself was facing the other way, looking off wistfully in the middle distance with a lit cigar he was lazily puffing on. Her transmission image was a still one, by comparison, mostly of the identi-card image she'd taken a while ago. Not that she wore her nametag everywhere like Doctor Hanson did.

    "Oh, hey Raynor!" She said cheerfully. "Did everything go well?"

    Raynor glanced at Matt then back to her.

    "For a manner of speaking. We got a lot of good scrap, some regular mineral and gas stockpile stuff. But more importantly…we got this adjutant. Dates back to the Confederacy."

    "Oh, excellent! Hope you know someone who's got Confederacy code experience," Yuriko chuckled, stepping slightly to the side and pressing an arm against the back of a chair slick with fluids to prop herself up.

    Raynor looked surprised, which to Yuriko was certainly a welcome change from the sardonic tired face he normally wore.

    "Uh…MannCo doesn't? Would have figured by now you guys would have something for this."

    "Nothing and no one that is the same as having first-hand experience and skill."

    Same not necessarily meaning worse, but still.

    "Huh…well," Raynor rubbed at his chin before clapping Matt on the back with a wide grin on his face. "Looks like we might need to hit Deadman's Port after all, Matt."

    She'd never seen Captain Matt Horner the revolutionary look so completely miserable. It was apparently enough for Tychus to also see and laugh about, before the convict started coughing and thumping at his armored chest from the unexpectedness of it all.

    "…great," Matt sighed, rubbing a hand at his temple at the same time. "I need to…I need a drink," he said before moving off screen and presumably towards the cantina.

    Raynor just chuckled at as he went before looking back at the screen.

    "Also," he said with a bit more seriousness, "About these MannCo spectres…," he trailed off uncomfortably. "They said they didn't need a ride to get off of Tarsonis? Does that mean MannCo is coming to pick them up?"

    "In a manner of speaking," Yuriko said, stepping over a chunk of dead marine as she reached the pilot station. "Don't worry about that. But more generally speaking, what did you think of them?"

    "Well," Raynor folded his arms, "Pretty handy in a fight. Effective. Professional…except for one of 'em, at least."

    Yuriko sighed.

    "Let me guess. Brex?" She tutted, "Yeah, he's a bit of an ass. But a good fighter. Sorry about that."

    "Nah, it's fine," he waved it off, "But uh, more seriously, these spectres do some good work. Held off an army for us while we hit the last train. Guess the Dominion had something of a good idea, investing in creating them."

    "True. Luckily after the Shadowblade turned against them, MannCo was able to scoop them up – hold on," she paused and turned back to the only living person left on the ship and muted her comms. "Sit in your chair and be quiet."

    Captain Jonathan Hayes nodded at her, face locked into a stretched rictus with blown out pupils.

    "O-of course, Empress," he strained out, wobbling slightly as he did so, tottering away to sit down with a slump.

    Yuriko squinted at him before unmuting herself.

    "Sorry, back. Anyway, yeah, the spectres work with us now. I do have an offer for you, by the way, regarding payment for Bel'shir?"

    Raynor shifted his weight, but to her eyes didn't seem immediately resistant.

    "Yeah? What are you thinking? We're doing pretty good on cash, and on equipment. Scooped up just about every contract Mr. Hill has, except the Jackson's Revenge."

    "The mercenary battleship?"

    "That'd be the one," Raynor confirmed with a nod. "They've got a pretty big asking price, but as of yet we ain't gotten into too many fights that would need a whole 'nother battlecruiser."

    And, Yuriko knew, he wouldn't trust that entire crew and ship. Not with the reputation behind it. Losing captains to battles was one thing, but having multiple captains being outright murdered by the crew multiple time? Not worth it, whatsoever. Every other mercenary that Raynor had purchased the contract for was more trustworthy, including the ex-UED, the ex-Dominion, and the ex-Confederates.

    "Mmm, interesting. But yes, MannCo is willing to actually contract out to you some spectres, if you want some additional psychic firepower," she continued.

    "Wait…," Raynor uncrossed his arms, head jerking backwards slightly. "Really?"

    "A spectre per canister," she said. "That's ten spectres. It might not stand up to the entire Dominion Ghost Corps, of course, but you've seen them. They're pretty good in a fight."

    Raynor didn't answer immediately, but then she didn't expect him to.

    "I'll let you think about it. Call me back in a bit?"

    "Uh…yeah, sure," Raynor nodded absentmindedly before the call shut off.

    Yuriko inhaled slowly and centered herself before walking back over to Hayes, the man's mind surprisingly resilient enough to force her to actively keep control. The voice modulator reactivated, just in case. A snap of her fingers had the replicator cloud she carried in one of her armor compartments consume part of the ship's nearby non-essential materials to form a data pad and hard drive that she handed over.

    "You're going to enter all of your Dominion access codes, information you have on any classified Dominion military operations, and confess to anything regarding suppression missions," she said while focusing her powers just that little bit more. "And dealing with 'dissidents'."

    "Y-y-yes, my Empress," Hayes grit out, hands twitchily beginning to do so. "Gnnn…Gnn…Glory to t-the Dominion."

    Yuriko nodded and turned away, surveying the bridge of the ship before walking over to the comm system and activating it.

    "Chief Engineer Waylon, you can turn the engines back on to full power."

    The response was prompt.

    "A-a-aye aye…Admiral…," the man's strangled voice answered back.

    Immediately, the lights on the bridge became significantly brighter, the ship rapidly rising up from its artificially induced low power state. Yuriko then switched channels on the comm station to the rest of the battlecruisers that floated in formation.

    "All Captains, this is Yuriko. You will jump to the coordinates I plugged into your consoles in approximately five minutes."

    She paused, waiting for the responses.

    "Aye…Empress," Captain Talia Hawkthorne wheezed out.

    "Aye…Empress," Captain Johann Bakersfield said through grinding teeth.

    "Aye…Empress," Captain Paul McIntyre slurred.

    "Great!" Yuriko clapped before turning back to Hayes. "As for you, all done?"

    Hayes drooled a bit before nodding in a violent twitch, hand shaking as he held out the data pad. Yuriko's good mood dropped entirely as she examined the contents, specifically towards the end.

    "Why did you accept the kill mission on the refugee ships fleeing Prion IV? Answer truthfully."

    "O-orders, Empress," Hayes forced out. "They…were s-suspected of…of harboring…members of the KLF. Couldn't…couldn't let them…into the Core Worlds to…spread…their lies..."

    Yuriko sneered inside of her helmet.

    "So you destroyed the entire fleet, killed tens of thousands, because they might have held people who might talk about the Dominion in negative terms," she growled. "Ugh. You'll follow these coordinates too, Hayes. Same timeframe."

    He slapped a hand to his forehead in a haphazard chop, neurons firing furiously as he tried to salute. Yuriko nearly spat on him but instead just decided to walk past. Still, as she began to exit the bridge, she spoke up one last time.

    "You are one of the worst kinds. Sadists, sociopaths and psychopaths who luxuriate in the violence, megalomaniacs, those are one thing. But your…casual evil is just…disgusting. I hope that the sun you're about to drive into isn't nearly as hot as the hell I hope you rot in."

    Then she turned and left, leaving Hayes twitching on his chair, the automatically punched in coordinates already accepted. The data pad of his misdeeds was consumed by nanites, the information collated and added to the greater database, joining the information already gotten from the rest of his compatriots. She didn't even bother getting rid of the jamming devices she'd planted onto the ships, as they would be consumed by the same sun which had baked Tarsonis' surface since it had fallen. The benefit, of course, was removing all proof entirely, beyond making a ship's crew completely fail to shift course or even communicate with its fellows as it was overtaken from the inside.

    It took until she was out in space again, racing in her super vulture at high speed back towards where the Hyperion waited until Raynor called again.

    "Ah, Mr. Raynor," she said formally before relaxing her tone. "Made a decision yet?"

    Down below, she watched with the super vulture's scanners as the other warheads were planted. Nuclear bombs were one thing. Traceable. Believable to be sourced from other terran sources. No doubt the Dominion would be able to figure it out, if it was just those. They would, potentially, depending on the next tight beam transmission that Mr. Findlay sent out. And whether or not anyone altered those transmissions. Still, no need to make it easier for them. A small smattering of white blinking lights from the spectres lit up her visor, marking the points on the planet where they were.

    "Yeah. The spectres did some good work, but I'd appreciate some assurances that they won't…"

    "Go crazy?" Yuriko finished his thought and laughed quietly. "Well, tell you this. If they do, I'll get rid of them."

    "Er…get rid of them?"

    "Remove them from service and replace them," she said slowly, before pausing on purpose. "What," she affected an offended tone, "Did you think I meant kill them or something?"

    "What? No! I-,"

    "If they get that bad, their peers will help me out if that happens, but I doubt it will," she interrupted with a chuckle.

    The spectres were moving now, all of them at high speed on dropship out of the atmosphere.

    "As it is, Raynor, I can't promise you more than that. I'll run herd of them, but just so you know their trainers did and do the same. Strict self-discipline is the watchword for spectres. You can't cut it, you don't get to be one."

    She did a few barrel rolls in space to fill the time while Raynor thought to himself, the Hyperion growing larger and larger all the while. Tarsonis might have looked lovely from space, once, but now really was just a ball of dust, ruins, and craters. And it was going to be gaining a few craters by the end of this. Frankly, its orbital lanes weren't that much cleaner. The capital of the Confederacy had quite the clogged skies, when it came to satellites and the like. All of them decaying in orbit, slowly. There were, she noted as she zoomed past them on the super vulture, large gaps where scavengers official or otherwise had already partaken, but also gaps where some of the larger ones had already fallen. It was depressing, honestly.

    "We'll see how it works out, I guess," he eventually said. "We can give it a go. Wouldn't complain for some more extra-normal superpower."

    "Hah! So long as you don't think you're getting another me, Raynor. I'm one of a kind."

    In this universe, at least.

    "Would never dream of it, darlin'. Scanners are showing you coming in now, appreciate you turning off the stealth just for a bit on our behalf. Cargo Bay 19 is open for you."

    "Appreciated, Raynor."
     
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    • 103 – Tally Pass
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    • 103 – Tally Pass​

    "Well, I'd say that was a good haul," Yuriko said as she entered the bridge. "Right?"

    Jimmy glanced at her and then back at the star map, hand on his chin and one arm tucked under the other as he mused. She'd taken off the armor panels she stuck on in battle, leaving her in just the regular old purple and black environmental suit with glowing power lines. Still, her expression was reasonably cheerful, meaning that she was closer to Tychus' current temperament than he or Matt at the moment. Not that the thought of seeing Matt meet his 'wife' again didn't at least brighten Jimmy's mood ever so slightly, of course.

    "Yeah, I guess. The adjutant was the real prize, I guess. The stuff we got off the trains ain't but a drop compared to the buckets that you've given us," he finally admitted, turning away from the star map to fully face her. "Too bad the hunk of junk won't talk to us."

    "Well, you said something about Deadman's Port," she shrugged. "Let me guess, Orlan?"

    Jimmy hung his head for a moment before looking back up at her.

    "Yeah. How'd you guess?"

    "He's sort of infamous," she raised an eyebrow, "At hacking Confederate stuff, at least. I've got no idea on if he's any good at Dominion networks."

    Strictly speaking, Jimmy didn't know how good he was at the latter either. On the other hand, the man was a whiz at it, according to everyone.

    "Suppose he is. I don't know if I can trust him, though," Jimmy frowned. "He got kicked out of Alpha Squadron back in the old Confederate days for selling information. The man ain't got no cause but for money."

    Tychus chose that moment to speak up.

    "Aw hell, Jimmy, that ain't so bad. Least he's honest about it, right?"

    Yuriko, on the other hand, pursed her lips and put her hands on her hips as she looked between the two of them. At least she had her helmet off now, so he could follow where her eyes went. It was downright disconcerting when she looked at people when she had that thing on. And…then she smirked at him, the moment he had the thought, so she was definitely scanning surface thoughts actively again.

    "Perfect time to use some spectres, then," she said, smirk widening. "We can set a few of the ones you've just purchased the contract of to keep an eye on him."

    Jimmy blinked at her.

    "Wait, really? We don't have any idea how long it'll take Orlan to do the job, though."

    "And? They're spectres, Raynor, it's pretty hard to find them when they don't want to be found."

    Shit, Jimmy had never really thought about what he'd do if he had some ghosts on his side. Or spectres, he guessed. For a moment, he fantasized about sending them out to go assassinate Mengsk, like they'd apparently tried in the past, but a slight flash of warning in Yuriko's eyes had him shut that idea right quick. On the other hand, maybe they could sabotage enemy installations or, hell, watch invisibly to keep an eye on things. Just like Yuriko had suggested. He'd worked with ghosts before, sure, but they'd all been Sons of Korhal, ex-Confederates like Kerrigan had once been. He'd bet most of them were Dominion or dead, by now.

    "So long as we don't gotta pay for their room and board while in Deadman's Port, that's fine with me," Jimmy decided, nodding as he spoke. "I'll want regular updates, though."

    Yuriko smiled brightly at him.

    "Great! Then, in that case, can you not shoot the dropship that'll be coming to Docking Bay 6?"

    "Uh…what?"

    "The spectres…," she said slowly, tilting her head to the side. "You met them? Down there?" She pointed in the vague direction of Tarsonis.

    "Wh- oh, I get it," Jimmy groaned. "That's why they said they didn't need a ride. Cause they had one."

    "Precisely."

    "And they're probably stealthed like your super vulture?"

    "Also correct."

    Jimmy sighed, something he'd been doing a lot around anything MannCo related.

    "Yeah, okay."

    ======================================================​

    "Okay, this one you gotta let me look at," Swann declared loudly.

    In front of them was another MannCo-branded medivac dropship, only it hadn't looked to be there before. Everyone present watched as the stealth field that had surrounded it disappeared, another process releasing to let the engine noises release. It was at once similar to how wraiths performed the action, as well as ghosts. It was painted in the purple and black, landing carefully and resting there as its engines slowly began to come to a halt. It definitely wasn't as sleek as Jimmy's personal dropship, if anything it had some extra bulk to it. It didn't take a genius to know that the extra weight was probably from the cloaking generator and the additional reactor power required for it. Luckily the bay had held space, but all things considered they were rapidly running out. The vast majority of the hangars were full, at this point, of all a manner of vehicles. Wraiths, vikings, banshees, dropships, general cargo and scrap they were going to sell later…it was staggering to think about, honestly. For so long, parts of the Hyperion had felt damn near cavernous. Now it was getting almost a little bit stifling, only in the best possible way. As it was, there were already three other dropships and two vikings in this area alone.

    "This one, you can look at," Yuriko said with nod, arms crossed with an almost pompous expression on her face.

    Jimmy snorted as it thumped out another cigarette and lit it while waiting for the ship's ramp to drop. It took a few more seconds for the engines to fully wind down, as well as release residual heat, at which point the spectres finally emerged. As per what he'd seen before, they were all still wearing their odd armor paneling and environmental suits, all of them still wearing their masks. Jimmy hadn't actually gotten an accurate read on their numbers on the planet below, now that he thought about it. Towards the end there was so much dust and chaos that their tactic of flickering in and out of sight mid-fight had made it completely impossible to be sure. On the other hand, just as promised, ten of them walked out of the dropship, glancing about the cargo bay as they did so. Some of them he thought he recognized, but he wasn't quite certain. There they stayed, ten spectres on one side, Jimmy and the Raiders on the other. Stetmann had also been quite interested in seeing the technologies that MannCo would be utilizing and Yuriko had asked if Doctor Hanson would look over the spectres, which was why they were here, but Tychus had been a surprise. Jimmy would have figured he would have been wigged out by so many psychics in one place, but there he was.

    "Right," Yuriko said into the silence, striding forward until she was halfway between the two groups.

    Immediately, all ten of the spectres fell into mirror copies of Yuriko's attention posture, shoulders straight and legs only slightly spread, heads all tilted up and staring at some middle distance. Presumably, at least. The masks they wore ensured that knowing exactly what they were looking at was unknowable, even if they showed more obviously where their eyes were. None of them wore the distinctive featureless smooth mask that Yuriko possessed, and unlike her weird super railgun – Swann's latest theory – they bore far more recognizable AGR-14s, if a bit obviously modified and individualized. Others had their oversized missile launchers mag-locked to their backs, their environmental suits definitely packing the improved musculature weaves that Stetmann was convinced was the source of their improved strength and agility.

    "Operative Thirteen, ma'am!" They called out in perfect unison, so seamless that it almost made Jimmy's skin itch.

    It only got worse when Yuriko's more relaxed expression flattened before swiveling about with the faintest usage of her psychic powers, offering a salute back.

    "At ease," she barked, the tone and authority forcing Jimmy's spine to straighten somewhat.

    And, out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Tychus had similarly been affected.

    "That is James Raynor," she pointed up at him. "As of now until contract completion, he is your commander. Is that understood?"

    "Yes, ma'am!"

    "You are to follow his orders as if they were my orders, as if they were Mann's orders, unless otherwise countermanded by myself or Mann!"

    "Yes, ma'am!"

    "Damn," Tychus muttered from next to Jimmy. "She got real serious right quick, didn't she?"

    "Well-," Jimmy began.

    "Great!" Yuriko relaxed completely, jerking a thumb at Jimmy and the others. "Go ahead and mingle. Maybe get a drink in the cantina. That means you, Brex!" She pointed a finger at one of the spectres. "But afterwards, you'll need to find Doctor Hanson," she tilted her head towards the woman in question. "Regular check-up, tests to make sure you're all stable, etc. for the edification of your contract holders."

    The spectres managed to relax out of attention just in time for them to be rushed at then passed by the Hyperion's engineers.

    "I get first dibs!" Swann called out, rushing right past the confused looking spectres.

    Jimmy just put a hand to his own face and laughed.

    It was a good distraction, for a while at least. Eventually, though, Jimmy felt his mood drop as the spectres were given the tour by Yuriko, being introduced and introducing themselves to the rest of the Raiders. Swann and his engineers poked around the stealth-capable drop ship, but all Jimmy could see was the planet outside that the Hyperion still orbited. He didn't even question whatever Yuriko did to get rid of the Dominion fleet that had been in the middle of its patrol. All he could see was Tarsonis. If he closed his eyes, he could still remember what it had looked like before. Before Mengsk. Before the zerg. But that only made it worse when he opened his eyes again and saw what it had become.

    Large blooms of light caught his eyes, then, down on the surface.

    For them to be visible from here, they had to be rather incredibly powerful explosives, but only some of them were the telltale mushroom of nuclear weapons. If anything, that was part of why Tarsonis had become so badly ravaged, the panicking death throes of the Confederacy involving setting off their own stockpiles in an attempt to something, anything, to the zerg that were overrunning the planet. Then, Kerrigan had made her home there. Then, the Brood War. Then, the UED. The planet had seen an awful lot of war in a short amount of time. But these were different. Some of them were confusing scintillating balls of twisting energy streams that clearly and obviously sucked in the very clouds above them, marking their position by where they affected even the atmosphere.

    If Jimmy had to guess, it'd be MannCo making sure their tracks were as covered as could be.

    "…sorry," he muttered to the dead, his words obscured by the shouting of the engineers.

    He needed a drink, and pulled out his flask to do just that.

    "Jim…," Doctor Hanson's voice came from next to him, making him jerk away in surprise.

    Jimmy cursed as he nearly dropped the flask, fumbling it in his hands for a second before looking over.

    "Dang, sorry Doc. Just sort of got lost in my own head there a bit," he apologized.

    "Don't be," she shook her head, placing a hand on his arm. "Are you all right? I'm sorry I pried, earlier, when I asked about Tarsonis. I knew it was tearing you up inside, but…I shouldn't have made you feel that pain again."

    She'd certainly been shocked, that was for sure. It shouldn't have been surprising to him, considering that all the records had 'somehow' been lost of what happened that day, but her reaction had still struck him somewhere deep.

    "I'll survive, doc," Jimmy sighed, hunching slightly as he leaned on the railing. "For a while longer, at least."

    Doctor Hanson turned away slightly, holding herself uneasily as she looked down at Tarsonis.

    "I…I looked it up," she started slowly, "After what you said in the lab. There were rumors of psi-emitters, but nothing ever openly confirmed," she trembled slightly. "Two billion dead confirmed, hundreds of millions more estimated lost without confirmation because of the chaos afterwards."

    She curled in on herself slightly before exhaling and straightening, looking at Tarsonis and missing how Jimmy's fingers had clenched tighter and tighter on the railing until they almost turned bone white.

    "Arcturus Mengsk is a monster…and he needs to be stopped. Just…," she turned, placing a hand lightly on his own and making Jimmy look down at her. "Don't lose yourself to do it, okay?"

    Then she turned and walked away, looking back at him only once with a sad smile before heading back to the labs where the spectres would eventually be coming. Jimmy just sighed as he tapped another cigarette out of the box and lit it.

    "No promises, doc. No promises," he said as he exhaled a lungful of smoke.

    ==============================================​

    Colonel Orlan, of the late and only sometimes lamented Alpha Squadron, spat to the side before stuffing a bit more chewing tobacco in his mouth. He sucked a bit of air in his teeth as he looked over the adjutant, which had mostly been cleaned up by the efforts of Swann and a few other team members. A group of tough looking marines and marauders crowded in behind him, the mercenary leader unwilling to land on the Hyperion without bringing as large an escort as his dropship could carry. The disgraced veteran rubbed at his scraggly chin hair as he looked the adjutant up and down and then back at Jimmy. Outside, visible through the energy shields, the ramshackle and deadly Deadman's Port hung in the void, ships of all kinds and nominal flags poking about here and there. There were even a few Dominion ships, though that was likely just because their new owners hadn't yet changed the paint.

    "And you say you found this thing where?" Orlan drawled, sniffing slightly.

    "I didn't," Jimmy said back, arms crossed over his chest.

    The Raiders had plenty of marines and marauders on their own, but none of them were in the cargo bay. It was only Jimmy, Tychus, Swann, and Yuriko. At least visibly. Jimmy knew, having seen them get into position, that there were all ten of his spectres – and wasn't that an odd thing to say – were in the cargo bay as well. They would know, even faster than Jimmy or Tychus, if something was up, what with the telepathy and what not.

    "…yeah, okay. I can crack it, maybe, but it'll take me a bit."

    "Ain't you supposed to be some kinda wizard with this sort of thing?" Tychus rumbled, the man having slotted seamlessly into the shady nature of the dealing with incredible ease. "That's what everyone says."

    He didn't even puff on his cigar, instead keeping his faceplate down the entire while and a C-14 held in his arms at the ready.

    "Yeah, well, everyone is an idiot," Orlan sneered. "It ain't like the holo-vids. Hacking something like this'll take time, I can't just crack my knuckles and flail on a keyboard for a few seconds."

    "Just tell me how long, Orlan," Jimmy rolled his eyes.

    He wasn't in his armor. A deliberate choice, but one matched by Orlan who'd shown up in his old Alpha fatigues.

    "Like…a week, give or take a day," Orlan sucked some more air through his teeth. "I want half up front, half upon completion."

    The price the man had quoted was exorbitant, Jimmy knew it. But for once, he had the money to space.

    "Sure, sure. We'll transfer to your account."

    Orlan paused and looked at him suspiciously.

    "What, don't gotta tell me you'll 'definitely get me' my money at the end, all at once?" Orlan said. "Maybe take out a loan with someone out at the port?"

    "Nah, not this time," Jimmy shook his head.

    "…fine," Orlan spat to the side again. "Load her up boys."

    They did not exchange a handshake, but then Jimmy didn't want to. He didn't fancy having to wash his hands a couple dozen times to get the slime and stink off of 'em. At the same time, two of the spectres didn't reappear after Orlan left, and it took a second of their expectant looks before Jimmy realized that two of them had somehow hitched a ride in complete silence. It really was a trip, having some stealth troopers on his side for once, instead of attempting to assassinate or capture him.

    It was just a shame that Matt was so insistent that they leave immediately, before Mira Han could learn of their presence.

    =====================================​

    "Nova!"

    "Yuriko!"

    The two psychics embraced again, even while MannCo marines carefully tugged the MannCo generators off of the Hyperion and back onto their waiting dropship. Swann and his engineers watched them go only a little bit mournfully. As of twelve hours ago, however, their service simply hadn't been needed. The reactor core was fully installed and put through its pace. The laser batteries were up to snuff, as were the interception missiles, the defense matrix, the new neosteel plating, and the improved engines. As of now, Jimmy couldn't help but think happily, the Hyperion was definitely the equal to any ship in the Dominion fleet. Even Mengsk's damn hoity toity flagship, according to Swann. Jimmy believed him. There was a steady thrum to the ship, now, almost like a strong heartbeat rather than the threadbare pulse it had sometimes had. The lights no longer flickered, there were no more brownouts. Everything was a close to spick and span as was humanly possible. Possibly even beyond that.

    "Oh...baby," Tychus drawled happily as Sweet Thang emerged from the dropship, carried in the hands of one of the black-armored MannCo marines. "That is some nice work. Quick too."

    Nova looked him up and down slowly, then at Yuriko, then back to Tychus.

    "Yeah, well, our ship had the facilities on hand to repair and replace what was damaged," she finally shrugged. "It wasn't any trouble. Just try not to get it get damaged again, Mr. Findlay?"

    "I swear to do my best, ma'am," Tychus said with so much serious that for a wild second Jimmy was sure he was listening to a marine who hadn't been discharged from the military yet.

    Nova nodded at him approvingly before looking at Jimmy.

    "Ma'am," Jimmy held out his hand, to which Nova laughed slightly and shook back.

    "Mr. Raynor," the blonde psychic nodded. "I hear you've met some of my fellow spectres."

    "Only some," he was quick to point out. "Still, I've only known them for a day or two. On the face of it, mostly good folk."

    Nova's face immediately darkened as she looked over at Yuriko. Jimmy was forced to watch as the two exchanged a great many expressions and silent looks in rapid succession, no doubt communicating with their telepathy-

    "Oh, sorry," Nova said, blinking and looking back at him. "You're right, Raynor, that was rude. Apologies. It was Brex though, right?"

    "Ah…yeah," Jimmy rubbed at the back of his head. "He's mostly fine, though. Really. Just sort of sits in the back of the cantina."

    "He's an ex-Confederate ghost, so he's an old and crusty bastard," Nova flapped her hands, snorting dismissively. "You don't have to make excuses for him."

    Yuriko just snorted.

    "Anyway," Nova looked over at Swann, her bemusement disappearing. "Everything seems to be in order, no tampering detected, though you did get clever with power draws to try and parse more than you should've," she said flatly.

    Jimmy turned, slowly, to see Swann pale significantly.

    "Uh…look, we uh, I'm sorry, but-,"

    "Don't do it again, Rory Swann, or we'll rip out every single thing you purchased from us off of this ship," Nova interrupted coldly, the faintest bit of purple-blue psionic light burning in her eyes. "While you're on it."

    "Woah now," Jimmy moved to intersperse himself between them. "He didn't mean any harm."

    Nova just glared at him, softening only slightly.

    "What one means, and what one does, and what one experiences as consequences are rarely as we desire, Mr. Raynor," she said frostily.

    "Nova," Yuriko sighed.

    "I am MannCo Internal Security," Nova continued without looking away from Swann, cocking her hip. "That means it's my job to make sure that things that are meant to be Internal stay that way. By most any means necessary. Don't do it again, and we won't have a problem."

    Then the light faded and Jimmy felt himself able to breathe a little better. Only then did he realize that there had been a subtle but slowly growing pain in his very lungs that was wholly from an outside force.

    "But you get one," Nova said, suddenly all smiles and brightness again as she held up one slender environmental suit-clad finger. "Most people don't, but Mann said you get one," she repeated, expression intensely focused in a manner that greatly differed from the tone of her voice.

    The spectre straightened and looked back at the dropship where the last of the generators was carefully put into place.

    "Anyhow, our job is done here. Thank you for purchasing from MannCo, we hope you'll use our services again," Nova said cheerfully before stalking back up into her ship, flickering away into stealth as she did so.

    Behind her, she left twelve MannCo marines watching the cargo bay silently as the door of the dropship lifted up and sealed, the ship itself departing soon after towards the battlecruiser that hung in the void across the way from the Hyperion.

    "Damn. It. Swann," Jimmy growled through grit teeth. "What did I say!?"

    "I thought they wouldn't notice," the engineer protested, "I…,"

    His excuses slowly drained away as he caught sight of Yuriko with crossed arms right behind Raynor.

    "Ah, cripes. Spooks the psychic," Swann sighed, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Right."

    "I didn't tell them, Swann, I didn't need to," she shook her head, tutting in disappointment. "Of course they'd know how much the generators were drawn on. They have internal monitors. You do realize this will cause penalties in purchasing power equivalence per credit now for all future MannCo deals, right?"

    "Bu-whuh?!" Swann gaped.

    Jimmy's headache only increased.

    "Damn it, Swann!"

    "If anyone needs me, I'll be working on my bike," Yuriko shook her head as she walked away.

    "It wasn't me! It was Kachinsky's idea!"

    "Aw, that's cold, boss!"

    =============================================​

    Already, most of the Agria colonist ships had dipped into warp space, and only a few remained. Hundreds of colonists had joined the Raiders, but they were only a fraction of the proper colony itself. He'd known it couldn't last forever, things were getting more dangerous lately, after all, and it just wasn't safe for the colonists to hang around them forever. He was a bit worried about them picking a planet so close to protoss space, but hopefully if there was any friction he might be able to talk things out with his old friends.

    "Well doc, it's been a pleasure having you," Jimmy offered his hand to Doctor Hanson, only to be surprised as she slowly pushed his hand back down.

    "Actually…I don't intend on leaving, Jim," she said softly. "My people need to get somewhere safe, but you're doing good work out here. And…I can still help."

    She had, for instance, looked into the spectres when he'd asked. It was comforting to have someone else independently confirm Yuriko's words, to put a piece of concrete surety on the haze of deliberate confusion and misinformation that MannCo seemed to enjoy employing. The spectres were a bit weird, but so were all psychics. They were only a little bit more eccentric, keeping small good luck charms on their person they swore helped them use their powers better. It wasn't like non-psychics couldn't have good luck charms, after all. In fact, after a bit of prodding from Yuriko, Doctor Hanson had begun applying her extensive genetics knowledge in searching for a cure for the infamous zerg infestation, as well as looking at certain research projects with the zerg sample that Stetmann had been forced to discard.

    Hell, she'd already figured out how to manage an improvement of their command center into a proper fortress, with Swann using some of his new materials and funds to pull together a major boost to the Atlas Rockets to ensure that the command center could still move despite the massive increase in weight.

    "I don't uh…don't quite get what you mean," he frowned at her.

    "Well, MannCo's sworn to dedicate an entire fleet and planetary garrison on Haven, and all they asked was that I keep helping you out," she said, tucking an errant hair over her ear. "While they help my people get settled and stay safe."

    "Woah, hey," he shook his head. "You don't gotta let them force you to stick around. I can-,"

    He was forced to pause as she placed a finger on his lips.

    "Actually, Jim," she chuckled, "I agreed with them. Swann is mostly focused purely on machinery, and Stetmann is incredibly intelligent but…erratic."

    Jimmy very carefully put his hand on hers, feeling the warmth in it as he pulled it away from his mouth.

    "I don't want you put in danger, if I can help it, doc," he said quietly.

    Doctor Hanson just smiled at him.

    "I've talked a lot with Yuriko, Jim. And your crew. And my colonists, those who are staying here with you and those heading to Haven," she said. "And I agree with them. It was nice when Agria could just stay out of the way of the Confederacy, of the Dominion, almost even the zerg."

    Jimmy very abruptly remembered he hadn't let go of her wrist, and she hadn't pulled away.

    "But we can't just ignore the universe, especially when we can help," she continued. "And I can help. And if my help ensures the Raiders can save just one more life, get just that small bit closer to taking down that heartless monster of an Emperor…," she trailed off, looking up at him in a way that made him swallow for some reason. "I'll give it."

    "I uh…," he coughed, tugging his hand away in the same motion. "I appreciate that, Doc."

    Doctor Hanson just gave a quiet, humming laugh before she turned away, pausing in the doorway out of the corridor they'd been in.

    "We'll talk later, Jim. Okay?"

    "Uh…yep," he said with a small acknowledging wave. "Yeah."

    He needed a drink.

    =======================================================================​

    "Ladies and gentleman, each night I bring you the news in the most fair and balanced manner possible-,"

    A bout of laughter erupted from everyone in the cantina, though some of it was more angry than amused, as Donny Vermillion spoke on the television.

    "But tonight I have a commentary!"

    "Oh, here we go," Yuriko crowed from where she lounged in one of the chairs, legs crossed on top of the table.

    "Some have asked me what the difference is between our leader, Emperor Mengsk, and the traitor Jim Raynor."

    "Well he's certainly a sight prettier than the old goat," Annabelle Thatcher, one of the preminent technicians on the ship murmured, setting off another round of drunken laughter from some of her off-duty compatriots.

    "Why thank you, Ms. Thatcher," Jimmy lifted his drink to her, causing the woman to return the gesture.

    "Just speaking more truth in a sentence than Donny in a year, Jim," she said back, getting some more laughs.

    "They point out that Mengsk rebelled against the government of his youth, and came to power through the use of violence and subversion," Donny continued to spew, looking disapprovingly at the camera. "Why is it wrong for Jim Raynor to rebel in similar fashion?" An impressive amount of disgust managed to appear on the news anchor's face. "There is a difference! When Emperor Mengsk began his revolution, there was no threat hanging over humanity. James Raynor is waging his revolution while we war with two alien races!"

    The general amusement in the cantina soured rather quickly, smiles and laughter being replaced with far grimmer things.

    "James Raynor, have you no conscience?"

    "What!?" One Raider coughed out, his fellows needing to thump him on his back.

    "Shouldn't you fall in line, putting your petty complaints aside-,"

    "PETTY?!" Big Ben yelled, the Mar Saran rebel's dusky brown skin turned darker by the anger on her face.

    It took four fellow Mar Sarans to keep her from trying to throw their table up at the TV, the woman ranting under her breath about the loss of her husband and son to the Dominion in the mines the whole while. Her lifelong use of steroids ensured that it was actually a danger, table being made of solid metal or no.

    "As we struggle for humanity's very survival against this alien menace?!"

    That tore it, for some at least.

    "Fuck that guy!" One of the Agria colonists who had joined the Raiders growled. "Who the fuck - who is - wha - I should kick this guys fucking ass!"

    "Struggling for...what the fuck!?" Another shouted. "You assholes all LEFT! Ran away with your tails between your legs, shot at anyone trying to board your ships!"

    A few of them outright got up to throw their beer bottles at the screen, only for them to be caught in the air by one of the spectres who was also in the cantina.

    "Now now, darlings, ain't no reason to get ornery at the TV," Joyce, the most approachable said as she too lounged on a seat, one leg hiked up against her and the other swinging freely. "It's just doing its job. We can just turn it off as we like."

    "I mean, I get being pissed, though," Yuriko spoke up. "Look at the ticker at the bottom. '1st and 2nd Fleet combine to protect Coreworlds'," she recited to the disgust of some of the watchers. "I guess that's what Donny means when he says 'humanity's survival'."

    "Yeah, I saw some of those too. Zerg in over half the Dominion, James Raynor's continued 'reign of terror', and interstellar shipping cut by two thirds," Kachinsky spat. "Freaking Dominion. Bet you anything that half ain't the Coreworlds, though."

    "No bet, zero odds," Yuriko shook her head before looking over. "Uh...Raynor, you all right?"

    Only then did Jimmy realize he'd been silently squeezing the sides of the table, and he wasn't sure if it wasn't because he was intending on throwing it or using it to stabilize himself to not fall over. It was jut about the angriest he'd been in a long time, his whole mind and body just gone as he tried to puzzle through the absolute horse shit that Donald Vermillion had just vomited out. He wanted to rant about the protoss and zerg attacking back then, wanted to rage, to scream, to shoot something. Around him the rest of the Hyperion crew was lest restrained, yelling and comparing tales of oppression, imprisonment, martial law, and pain.

    "I'll be fine," he grunted, pushing off from the table. "I just need to clear my head."

    "Uh huh," Yuriko said dubiously.

    Shit. Right. Telepaths.

    "I'm serious."

    Thankfully, the psychic didn't say anything as he left the cantina. He waited until the door closed behind him before he slammed a fist against a wall, the alcohol in him dulling the pain almost as well as the rage. Walking down the corridor, his fingers twitched so much with anger that he nearly failed at lighting the cigarette.

    It was going to be another sleepless night.
     
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    • 104 – Overcast
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    • 104 – Overcast​

    "It's about time, Tychus, I thought Mobius was supposed to be the experts on this thing," Jimmy grunted as he posted up by the star map.

    It had been a number of days since the last job. While the Hyperion was sitting around, the rest of the Sector hadn't been so lucky. The zerg were being sighted all over the Dominion now, as well as in the Combine, all while going after the edges of the Umojan Protectorate. The actual governments were busy trying to regroup and prepare their militaries, and were using the substantial quantity of mercenaries that existed to help them do it. MannCo, along with just about every other merc group in the entire Korprulu Sector were being hired to run around everywhere, according to Yuriko. They'd bleed and die in the place of nations all for the promise of money many of them might not see. Hell, he'd even heard – thanks to his spectres at Deadman's Port, that even Orlan had willingly sent off a good chunk of his forces because the money being offered by the Combine was just too good.

    "Jimmy, you cannot rush the delicate art of research and investigation," Tychus said airily, waving his cigar about in one hand. "It is a complex and time-consuming process, partner. Course, I wouldn't expect you to know much about it."

    "Oh, unlike you?" Jimmy raised an eyebrow at his old friend.

    Tychus just chuckled and popped the cigar back in his mouth.

    "Anyway," he said without responding to Jimmy's statement, "The world is called Xil. It's a dead world, Jimmy, and the here's the fun part – they already sent a team down there."

    "Let me guess," Jimmy lit his cigarette and took a drag off of it, "Something went wrong, else they wouldn't be coming to us with it."

    "Exactly," Tychus stabbed his cigar at him, "They sent a big ol' specialist crew down there, got worried that someone," he looked meaningfully at Yuriko, "Might get there first, so they went loaded for bear."

    And still had failed. Huh. Well, Jimmy supposed that was probably to be expected. Mobius might have been some big fancy company, but unlike MannCo they were far more obviously focused on science and research rather than being mercenaries like MannCo.

    "So anyway, they got down there, found where they thought the artifact might be, but then they dropped out of contact," Tychus paused to puff on his cigar, "Last reports were of seein' Protoss show up nearby, and then…," he wiggled his fingers through the air and whistled sharply. "Gone."

    "Shit, let me guess…Tal'darim?" Jimmy clapped a hand to his forehead. "Probably should have expected that, damn it all."

    "The artifacts are holy to them," Yuriko pointed out, "Why wouldn't they want to keep them out of grubby terran hands?"

    Matt, who'd been scrutinizing the planet as it floated on the star map, frowned and shook his head.

    "That might mean protoss aircraft, certainly some ships to get them onto the planet unless they were already there and the Moebius forces simply didn't notice them until it was too late," he said, hand still on his chin as he contemplated. "I would suggest having the Hyperion in close proximity, just in case."

    "Agreed, Matt. Might be able to put the old girl through her new paces, if that turns out to be the case," Raynor nodded. "Besides which, even if the Tal'darim get a bit angry about it, we know that Kerrigan might come for it later. Can't let her have it either."

    "Agreed, Commander."

    Yuriko just watched them as they planned the deployment quietly for a while before Jimmy noticed.

    "You got any input on this, Yuriko?"

    The psychic just shrugged at him.

    "Nah."

    ==========================================================​

    They knew the Tal'darim were down there. In fact, after Yuriko did some stealth scouting of her own, they knew where the Moebius base was too. As well as what had happened to the Mobius team. Multiple bunkers had been blasted open by protoss energy weaponry or straight carved to pieces by their zealots. There were wrecks from over two dozen siege tanks, diamondbacks, shattered missile turrets, and plenty of bodies. Wrecks of ravens, wraiths, banshees, and vikings lay where they'd been shot down. The Tal'darim had shown zero respect for the terran dead, and had mostly just let them rot where they lay. There was even an inactive and badly damaged nuclear silo on at the Moebius base, still loaded. Tychus hadn't been kidding, the Moebius team had brought an army loaded for bear.

    The problem was, the Tal'darim had seemingly done the same.

    Floating ominously within the atmosphere of the planet were numerous carriers, phoenixes, void rays, and that was just what was in the air. There were tall spindly walkers with intensely powerful beams, which were apparently known either as colossi or wrathwalkers depending on which protoss were using them according to Yuriko. They had things that looked like High Templars, but were the Tal'darim equivalent instead – Ascendants. And Archons, though they didn't look quite like the kinds Jimmy had seen before. A veritable wall of proton cannons and pylons guarded the temple, with troops interspersed amongst them. But, for all of that, to Jimmy's surprise, they hadn't actually done more than completely wreck the Moebius base. Most of the structures there were nothing more than burnt wrecks, true, but he'd expected that the Tal'darim might have fortified the plateau, seeing as they'd done so with the other two in the area. There was also a massive drill, apparently it was what they'd intended to use to break through the doors of the temple. Only, the protoss had not let such a large piece of terran equipment remain untouched, and it lay in pieces.

    Given their airpower, and the scouts they no doubt had in place, there was no way the Tal'darim wouldn't see them coming. And while dropships were built tough, and they'd have their own escorts with the Hyperion's own burgeoning mini-fleet, the protoss had quite a bit of firepower. Losses would be inevitable.

    Thankfully, Matt had a plan for that, on that Jimmy had approved after an hour of trying to figure something else out and failing.

    "Okay, everyone ready?" Jimmy called out as he stepped up into the dropship, meeting the eyes of all the Raiders present within.

    "Hell yeah, Commander!" One extremely exuberant man yelled, only to blush as everyone looked at him. "Uh…,"

    "Now that's the enthusiasm that I like to see," Jimmy chuckled as he stepped more fully into the dropship.

    Normally, it had seats built even for CMC armor to sit in, but this was going to be a hard and fast drop. It would strain the carrying capacity and engines of the dropships, certainly, but the benefit of being able to carry an entire hold completely full of marines and marauders would be worth it. Every single dropship that they had would be doing so, in fact, though it still wouldn't be the entirety of all of the Raiders. Some had stayed behind in case the ship somehow got boarded, others were still in medical, and some simply would have to wait and see if the dropships could come back and get them or not.

    "Tychus," Jimmy toggled on the radio in his armor, "You ready for this?"

    "Aw, hell, Jimmy, you know I am," Tychus responded back with a dark chuckle. "Last time around fuckin' no faces scarred Sweet Thang," he growled, "I aim to air some complaints in their general direction. Big ones."

    "Heh, fair enough. See you on the ground, buddy."

    "You too, partner."

    Then the red light buzzed on in the dropship as it lifted off and shot out of the cargo bay at high speed. Jimmy had chosen this ride in particular, for one reason, and one reason only. It was piloted by Emilia Rodriguez, who had once been a Confederate wraith pilot, before the Fall of Tarsonis and the Confederacy after it, at least. She'd gotten shot down in her old wraith by mutalisks, and had to crawl her way to safety with only a service pistol and a broken leg. Ever since she'd been too traumatized to get back behind the stick of another wraith, but her flight skills and speed tendencies remained exactly the same. Scuttlebutt even said that she'd had Swann soup up her engines with her own pay, just to get it that much faster.

    "Hang on, everybody," Rodriguez called through the intercom, "Commander said we're gonna make this a fast one! And if any of you vomits, you keep in your damn suit! Elsewise I'm liable to make you scrub up what you leave with your own goddamned toothbrush!"

    Then they shot out of the Hyperion so fast that Jimmy clanged against the dropship doors despite having set his feet and weight. The g-forces immediately began dragging on everyone inside, to the grunts and groans of all within, save perhaps the pilot. Jimmy almost swore he could hear the sounds of other engines igniting as the rest of the Raider dropships and fleet began to rush down towards the planet. He could absolutely hear Rodriguez whoop on the intercom, at least, as well as her crowing cries and mocking derision towards her fellow pilots on general broadcast for getting left behind.

    "All right, Commander, Hyperion is making her approach now," Matt said tersely. "It's time to put all those upgrades Swann has been talking about through their paces."

    "Keep me looped in Matt, I wanna know what's going on," Jimmy said through grit teeth as he was tugged.

    "Yes sir," Matt said, though he was clearly focusing on the Hyperion at the moment. "Yuriko's already down below, and she's painted a few good targets for us to hit. Micro warp-jump, now!"

    Jimmy didn't respond, not wanting to interrupt Matt as he commanded the Hyperion. Instead he just listened, bracing himself against the dropship's doors. Through his connection, he could hear the immediate sounds of laser battery fire and returned shots by protoss ships onto the Hyperion. The welcome and familiar sound of the deadly Yamato cannon spinning up joined in with the rest of it, faint rumbling and shuddering as their flagship was hit by the protoss making Jimmy wince.

    "Enemy carrier shields are down!"

    "Redirect the Yamato target to that one, then!"

    "We've got protoss fighters coming in behind, spinning up new guns and anti-air turrets!"

    Jimmy heard the entire Hyperion rumble through the radio followed by a loud 'thoom'.

    "Carrier destroyed, wreckage raining down on main protoss base!"

    "Damage to engine two, but the turrets Swann installed took out the fighter!"

    A sudden shockwave ran across the dropship as the gravity of Xil finally came into effect.

    "That's atmo breached, folks!" Rodriguez's voice cut in. "On our way down to the pile of scrap that Moebius left behind, and – shit God Almighty, the Hyperion looks like it's covered in metal bees!"

    Another tense moment passed as the ship practically fell through the air towards the drop zone.

    "All right," Jimmy heard Matt call out, voice still remarkably controlled, "We've done a good amount of damage, and they're definitely swarming us. Activate the defense matrix and missile pods!"

    "Affirmative, Captain!"

    "And Cade, hit that carrier…right there, now, get it with the Yamato cannon!"

    Jimmy glanced around the dropship, noting how everyone had lowered their faceplates but had still begun gripping onto one another or whatever else they could quite tightly indeed.

    "TERRANS!"

    "Thank god," Jimmy muttered as the Tal'darim Executor bellowed onto the open channel.

    "You thought us fools, thought us blind? We prepared for your coming, blasphemous thieves! We know your vessel, James Raynor," the alien commander growled. "This time, you shall not escape!"

    "Commander," Matt said, voice suddenly far more panicked than he had before, "It's too much! We need to get out of here!"

    "No!" The Executor howled. "Do not let them escape, my warriors! Pursue them, destroy that ship!"

    Jimmy breathed in deeply and checked over the HEV rifle one more time, an action similarly mirrored across the dropship.

    "Okay…looks like the protoss are taking the bait," Rodriguez spoke up again. "They're going after the Hyperion hard, real hard – hah! Suck it, you alien bastards, that's another carrier gone! Damn it, I'm going to owe Cade another drink for hitting that one."

    Only then did Jimmy release his breath, head tilting back to lean against the insides of his own helmet.

    "Good luck, Commander, we'll do what we can," Matt called to say on his private channel.

    "Stay safe out there Matt."

    "We'll do our best," Matt chuckled before the link cut off as the Hyperion moved out of range.

    The red lights of the dropship buzzed again, a loud ringing blaring throughout the dropship, and Jimmy's stomach plummeted. That was not the pre-drop buzzer, it was the warning that the ship was about to take fire or perform evasive maneuvers. Or both.

    "We're coming in hot!" Rodriguez yelled. "Didn't take all their phoenixes with them, shit, shit! Okay, okay, come on motherfuckers," the ex-Confederate hissed to herself, so concentrated now on her piloting that she hadn't turned off the intercom.

    The dropship suddenly began to twist and rock wildly back and forth enough that its occupants began smacking against one another with cries of alarm.

    "What is…no!" The Executor roared. "Trickery! The terran insects are still here! Damnation! Call our ships back they…rrrrggh! You think this will be enough, James Raynor? You will burn in these skies as well as on the ground, as fitting trophies for the Tal'darim!"

    Jimmy opened his mouth to respond, even toggled onto the general broadcast channel that protoss seemed able to pick up despite their different technologies, before Rodriguez threw the dropship through a corkscrewing loop. Despite the maneuver, Raynor still was thrown forwards slightly as he felt impacts strike the dropship's rear and sides, and in fact saw some of the metal above him heating up slightly under repeated energy weapon's fire.

    "ETA TEN SECONDS!" Rodriguez shouted wildly as the ship barely began to level out. "HOT DROP, HOT DROP! ENEMY AT THE DROPZONE! ENGINE HIT, BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!"

    "You heard her Raiders!" Jimmy called out, voice transmitted directly to the suits of the Raiders in front of him rather than trying to yell. "Get ready for combat the second these-,"

    Then the dropship struck earth, and very briefly everyone was on the ceiling rather than on the ground. By now, he could hear the engines screaming as the entire ship then spun out like a groundcar, as well as several heavy impacts that crashed and slammed against the leading side of the dropship. The landing gear finally had enough and snapped, dropping the ship further as they continued to skid. It was only the armor everyone inside was wearing that let them not become smears on the wall from the sheer velocity. Thankfully, however, the dropship doors still functioned. Enough, at least, to collapse down at full force and audibly crush armor and flesh alike. Jimmy didn't even bother with more than a glance at the twitching zealot's arm as he sprinted out of the ship, took aim, and fired at the first enemy he saw.

    It was pandemonium.

    A screaming pass by Yuriko on the super vulture cleared the skies, for the most part, but on the ground the Tal'darim still teemed. He saw Tychus firing Sweet Thang, marauders grouping up and blasting entire groups of zealots apart, while medics saw to who they could. The siege tanks had landed as well, many of them pushing to the edges of the plateau over the bodies of the protoss so they could set up into siege mode. A good thing too, considering the protoss visibly heading their way. Jimmy barely had time to think beyond finding targets and shooting at them, the rest of the Raiders spreading out as they did so. More than one Raider went down screaming, yet before the protoss could deal a final blow one of the spectres appeared, blowing away the alien with their mind and weaponry before calling for a medic. Raynor could also see that his suspicions were correct, and that Rodriguez had managed to make her crash landing take out more than a few protoss at the same time, going by the wreckage and corpses.

    Shit, speaking of, now that there was a small cleared zone around them…

    "Rodriguez!" He shouted before shooting another zealot's shields down and heading back into the ship.

    The trio of marines that the alien had been charging at saw to the rest.

    "Rodriguez!" He shouted again, walking through the bay before reaching the cockpit. "Damn, doors are fused. Come on," he grunted as he strained against the door. "Come on!"

    With a shriek of tearing metal, he tore the door open.

    "Shit."

    The pilot was slumped over her console, her helmet and armor cracked where she'd clearly slammed against it from the impact of the crash. Her hands hung limply at her sides, blood pooling out of somewhere to form a small puddle on her legs and the floor. Raynor dropped the HEV rifle to free up his hands and gingerly pull her up and away. As he did so, however, she let loose a quiet gurgled cough, more blood splattering past her lips and onto her chest plate. Medivac pilot armor was based off of the medic suits with additional padding and protections, but far less mobility. It was that alone that had saved her from death. Still, Jimmy was as careful as possible as he tugged out of the cockpit before carrying her out onto the plateau and out of the dropship entirely.

    "Medic!"

    By then, the sounds of fighting had mostly dissipated, now relegated to the outer edges and below as the protoss kept attacking. The continuing crack-boom of shock cannons firing had been joined by plenty of rifles, grenade gauntlets, and more, but none of that quite mattered to him at the moment.

    "I need a medic!"

    This time, he got some attention, and more than a few Raiders turned around at his voice. Immediately, a number of medics began running over in their white armors, Big Ben at their head.

    "Put her down, Commander, and we'll do our best to see to her," she said calmly as she knelt down.

    Jimmy followed her instructions before stepping back to let more medics crowd in. Within seconds he heard the telltale activation of the medical nanobot injectors.

    "Shit, damn fool cracked her sternum wide open," Big Ben reported, "Looks like her rib cage is powder."

    "Armor took most of the hit, but the g-forces and impact makes even a little a whole lot," another medic cut in, shaking his head.

    "Is she gonna be okay? She saved our asses getting us down here, and took out a lot of protoss on the way," Jimmy said, blinking as a small sea of medics glanced up at him at the same time.

    Big Ben sucked some air through her teeth, the former leader of the Mar Sara rebels bobbling her head back and forth.

    "She's gonna need some replacements in there," she poked down at Rodriguez's torso, "And some recovery time after that, but she'll live."

    Jimmy exhaled his held breath.

    "You know, the only reason she's like this is because she's a speed demon, right?" Big Ben said with a wry expression on her face. "None of the other pilots went down like that," she gestured out to the field where, indeed, Jimmy could see the other dropships clustered tightly down on the ground. "She pulled ahead of the escorts and the rest of the pack, took a lot of hits that coulda been spread out amongst everybody. Damn fool ass adrenaline junkie," she sighed.

    He had not, in fact, known that. He might have to get someone to talk to Rodriguez when she woke up, or maybe he'd just do it himself. That was something for later, though.

    "Good to know," he nodded. "Good to know. I gotta get going. You gonna be all right?"

    Big Ben snorted at him and unclipped the C-14 rifle she'd had mag-locked to her leg and waved it at him. The Raiders didn't believe in not arming their medics, most of the time. In the distant past, killing medics was generally frowned upon, but in the Korprulu Sector they got shot at just as much as anyone else. Plus, the protoss and zerg just plain didn't care. It didn't stop certain governments from acting like they didn't arm their medics, for the most part, holding to that veneer of politeness towards one another. Big Ben, Jimmy knew, didn't give a shit after Mar Sara.

    "We'll be right, Commander."

    Jimmy nodded at her.

    "Great. Now then, there's got a battle to win."

    It wasn't easy, either. The Moebius base was a wreck, including their giant laser, and it would take time to repair it. Which, obviously, couldn't be done while the protoss were attacking. Instead, the Raiders had to hold their ground on the plateau, and slowly build up their defenses. Siege tanks, bunkers made of materials carried down to the planet, marauders, and marines. Tychus joined up with Jimmy, at some point, and the two of them took to the fight as best they could. Whenever someone got too badly hit, they got pulled back into the center of the plateau where the SCVs had helped set up a temporary field hospital for all the medics to get to work. But the Tal'darim kept coming, and kept coming, and kept coming. Their gateways meant they could be pulling in troops from who knew where else. All the while Jimmy wondered how Matt and the Hyperion were doing, dancing with the protoss ships sent after it. The Raiders were holding their ground well enough, but Raynor dreaded what might happen when they had to finally make a push.

    "So…this is going rough," Yuriko piped up after a bit. "Will you freak out if I do another Bel'shir?"

    Jimmy just looked at her flatly as a protoss wrathwalker crashed to the ground in a fiery explosion of plasma and alien chemicals.

    "I know you can read my mind," he said tersely. "I don't aim to get any of my boys and girls killed, Yuriko, and if you can help make sure we only take a lot of casualties today instead of fatalities…,"

    "Got it, just asking for permission," she said simply before hopping onto her super vulture. "Make sure to keep your faceplate down, maybe turn up the polarization. I swapped out last time Nova visited."

    "Wait, swapped out with what?"

    But she was gone, and her super vulture with her.

    A few minutes later, the first EMP bombardment followed by nuclear explosions rippled across the plateaus in the distance. Immediately, Jimmy knew what Yuriko had meant. The sheer size of the mushroom clouds far exceeded normal tactical nuke yields, at least for most arsenals. It wasn't Apocalypse-class, at least, and for that Jimmy was certainly grateful. A thousand of those had wiped out Korhal, after all. But it was certainly a lot more than was normally used by most Terran militaries for battlefield usage. Usually because terraforming was actually sort of expensive, and fixing up places struck like Korhal was insanely expensive. Not that Mengsk had cared, with it being his home. That, just ever so barely, Jimmy could sort of understand.

    But on Xil? A dead world where the only thing living was protoss and the Raiders which would hopefully be leaving after this was over?

    "Hell yeah," he said with satisfaction as he watched the clouds rise up.

    "Sweet mother of mercy," Tychus drawled from next to him, shaking his head. "Why she'd even let us come down here if she coulda done that the whole time?"

    Jimmy sighed and lit a cigarette to match Tychus' cigar.

    "We've talked about that sort of thing before. Says she doesn't want us relying on her or MannCo to just bail them out no matter what," he revealed as another series of bombardments rocked the protoss bases and forces.

    "Shit…yeah, maybe," Tychus grunted uncomfortably as he hefted his MannCo-built gun. "Still, your boys took a beatin' getting us all set up proper like, you know."

    Jimmy took a long drag off his cigarette.

    "I know. I've been talking to her about that, too," he admitted. "She's right that we haven't actually lost anybody, not completely, since she joined up. On the other hand, we've got a lot more injured. Medbay is pretty clogged, even with Doctor Hanson joining in."

    "Mmm."

    "But she says that MannCo could offer some help with that, too, after this job," Jimmy shrugged. "Probably gonna be some kind of wild crazy tech again that they won't let us look at."

    "Probably," Tychus sighed.

    The two of them watched as Yuriko hit the protoss again and again. On occasion, the Tal'darim managed to set some fighters on her tail, only for her to 'phase' or whatever it was again. She wasn't shy about using her psychic powers while flying around either, throwing protoss units at one another and at one point letting loose some sort of shockwave that somehow set the protoss to attacking one another. All the while, the Tal'darim Executor was shouting at them all. Blasphemers, heretics, fools, so on and so forth. Something about their name being emblazoned in the stars to be punished, or at least something similar to that.

    What mattered was that the Tal'darim on Xil were finished.

    A few hours after Yuriko declared she'd once more exhausted her nuclear and EMP stockpile, the Tal'darim rallied up what remained of their forces and attacked en masse, something that Jimmy and Tychus had to get up close and personal with. Jimmy swore he even saw a few probes here and there, just zapping with their little alien tasers. Unfortunately for the protoss, they ran into a line of bunkers, perdition turrets, siege tanks, munin auto turrets, and banshee bombs. Even worse, for the aliens at least, the Hyperion jumped back in towards the halfway point. She was smoking and bleeding, that was for certain, and would likely need a few days of repairs, but she was still flying. It was more than could be said for all of the Tal'darim that had followed her out of the atmosphere. There wasn't much more the Tal'darim could do after that, other than retreat or die. And they evidently preferred the latter more than the former.

    ================================================​

    "Yeah, I can get this thing running again, sure," Swann grunted as he looked up at the broken drill. "It'll take me, like, a few hours at most. The Hyperion'll take me a day."

    "Really?"

    Jimmy looked at the Hyperion as it rested on the plateau that had been scraped clean of all the Moebius wreckage. SCVs covered it like ants. Up close, he could see that it had actually sustained a good bit of damage. It would have been a complete wreck without the upgrades though, Matt and Swann had both emphasized that fact.

    "Psh, yeah, didn't you hear? Stetmann invented this crazy bio-steel stuff, the ship'll literally work on healing itself while we do our work."

    Now Jimmy stared at him.

    "Really?"

    Swann just nodded, a genuinely impressed look on his face.

    "Doctor Hanson figured out some kind of…cellular energy reactor thing, too. So that should help out in a couple of ways – I like the predators more though."

    "The what now?"

    "Predators," Swann shrugged. "Best name we could come up with. Spooks came in dragging Stetmann by the lapel and said he was trying to make a robot with his zerg research, threw me at the problem," and then Swann let loose a full toothy grin. "Wasn't hard to come up with the schematics either. Spooks says that MannCo'll buy the plans off of me for a huge payoff, too. Ain't that great, cowboy?" He slapped Jimmy on the arm. "Might let me buy some Hercules for us, too, now that I can modify 'em into mega dropships."

    Jimmy's head spun. He hadn't actually looked at the research console recently, with everything going on. But he remembered vague potential applications that Stetmann had listed, had even picked the shrike turrets to be worked on for the bunkers. But, just like Stetmann, he'd apparently run into tunnel vision on the projects, rather than getting help from the other experts. He'd known that Doctor Hanson was helping out, but not Swann.

    "I thought Stetmann didn't like you in the lab?"

    "Ah," Swann waved it off, "He was worried I would shoot that protoss crystal thing out of the ship, but Yuriko said she could tell it was actually feeding power into the ship, smoothing things out – and you know what?" The engineer looked at him, eyes wide. "She was right! Crazy stuff…after that, no way the kid was keeping me out from looking around."

    That, Jimmy remembered. Stetmann had been terrified that Swann would shoot it out the airlock, had begged him not to say anything. Apparently he hadn't thought to say anything to the psychic commando they had on board.

    "Was anybody going to tell me about this, or was I just supposed to figure it out on my own?" Jimmy said in annoyance.

    "Hey, it was gonna be a surprise!" Swann protested. "The bio-steel, sure, Stetmann was gonna tell you about after the battle anyway, but I haven't even built any predators yet, let alone tested 'em."

    "Just…just get the drill working Swann," Jimmy sighed. "I'm gonna go get a drink in the cantina."

    "All right, see ya later," Swann waved at him as he left.

    Sometime, Jimmy wondered what it would be like to be a certified genius like those three. At the moment though, he just wanted out of his armor for a bit.

    ========================================================​

    The lights flickering out was the first sign that something was wrong. After all the repairs and refits, the lights on the Hyperion quite simply did not flicker anymore unless the bulbs were going, not because the connections were weak or rusty. They especially should not have shut down on both sides of him, one after another, in sequence. The damage to the Hyperion wasn't that bad, despite all appearances to the contrary. Apparently the armor was what took most of the beating, which was what it was supposed to do.

    Jimmy paused in his walk through the corridor, wiping his chin as he screwed the top of his flask back on and put it in his pocket. His other hand drifted down to his revolver. Something itched at the back of his neck.

    "James Raynor…," a weary echoing voice came from the darkness behind him, causing Jimmy to whip around and see a face he'd never thought to see again. "I bring tidings of doom."

    "Zeratul," Jimmy said, his shock only barely muted.

    The dark prelate clutched at his arm, every movement tired and pained.

    "I have pierced the veil of the future…and beheld only…oblivion," Zeratul collapsed to his knees, and Jimmy fell to his own to help him before the protoss looked back and continued to speak. "And yet…some small measure of hope remains. You will hold her life in your hands…and though justice demands that she die for her crimes, only she can save us!"

    Jimmy recoiled from him as he realized what Zeratul was saying.

    "Wait a second…you're talking about Kerrigan!" He sputtered, gesticulating wildly. "It's been four years, you show up out of nowhere-," he was cut off as Zeratul grabbed his arm and placed something within his hand.

    "Time is short, you must understand!" The protoss withdrew his hand to reveal a small gold and green metallic object inset with emerald colored crystals. "The answers you seek…lie within," Zeratul said as the object activated, revealing a crystal in midair above it, while the protoss withdrew back into the shadows. "Study...it well. The fate of creation…hangs…in the balance."

    "He's not wrong," Yuriko's voice appeared from behind Zeratul, causing the dark prelate to spin about to face her, the lights of the corridor flickering back on.

    Jimmy stared at the psychic as she matched eyes with Zeratul. Her arms were crossed over her chest, the glowing power lines on her environmental suit pulsing quicker than usual. She was also wearing her additional armor plates and helmet, with even her overpowered rifle on her back. The sorts of things she only wore into serious battle. Zeratul, on the other hand, held out the arm with his gauntlet to the side but clearly at the ready. He couldn't see Zeratul's face from here, but he could see the complete tension in the protoss' body.

    "You…,"

    "Me," Yuriko nodded before tilting her head slightly to give the appearance of looking past Zeratul. "You remember those answers you wanted, Raynor? They're in there," she said before looking back at Zeratul. "I'm not here to fight you, Zeratul. Even after what happened before."

    "That-," Zeratul cut himself off, glancing back at Raynor. "I was not expecting to see you here."

    "Of course not," she tilted her head. "There's no prophecies about me to nearly get yourself killed over."

    Then she said something in a language that Raynor simply didn't know, and from the looks of it, neither did Zeratul. Only after that did she sigh, slowly relaxing her stance, something that Zeratul shortly did afterwards.

    "There's no hard feelings. So long as you know that I'm not His precious backup plan, you understand?" She said with a deadly calm, though Jimmy had no idea who 'He' was. "Remember that."

    Only afterwards the psychic stepped to the side and gestured past herself.

    "I just really, really wanted to emphasize that. Plus, I'd offer help, but I'm sure you'd refuse," she jerked her head back along the corridor. "So you can go disappear back into the shadows if you like, now."

    Zeratul was still for a moment before shaking his head.

    "The arrogance of terrans," he muttered as he stumped past.

    A few feet more and the lights went down again, centered completely around Zeratul before turning back on to reveal he'd disappeared. Jimmy was left standing there with the crystal in his hands blinking in complete confusion. Yuriko then walked up to him, still wearing her concealing helmet.

    "I'd recommend getting that in the lab, and maybe a chair. It's going to take a lot out of you."

    Then she faded from sight, sound, and feeling, leaving him alone in the corridor.
     
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    • 105 - Charity
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    • 105 – Charity​

    Repairs were still ongoing for the Hyperion, Swann having hastily corrected estimates by another day after seeing just how badly the drill had been damaged, and now Raynor found himself back in the lab. Watching the doors get melted through had been interesting, but after the fight that preceded it he'd just wanted to be done with the whole matter. Actually loading up the newest piece and shoving it into the Hyperion's innards had caused his anxiety about the things to spike more and more. Not that his most recent encounter had left him with an eased mind, either. Matt hadn't helped, and Yuriko had mostly disappeared since their last meeting, though her vulture was still on the ship. So now here he was, once again. Doctor Hanson had seemed plenty interested that he knew what it was, in awe of his experiences, but in truth her mentioning it just made him remember who he lost.

    "Protoss, Mengsk, the Zerg," Jimmy shook his head as he regarded the floating pieces of the artifact as they bobbed about, never quite touching one another. "A lot of people seem to want these things. You said you had some more info on them?"

    He very carefully did not say anything more about the Ihan crystal that was set up nearby, or even think much about Zeratul. Matt had thought he'd been just drunk, up and before Yuriko confirmed it. Then she'd disappeared again by the time it took him to turn around. One of these days, he was going to get a stealth module installed on his CMC armor, then he's see how she liked it. Of course, he'd need to be able to make the armor be silent and possibly wear a psi-screen and…well, that thought sort of trailed off while he was drinking in the cantina.

    "Ah, yes," Doctor Hanson pushed her glasses up her nose with a knuckle, the other hand holding her data pad. "I did some more tests, and like I said earlier, it is incredibly young for an alien artifact. Furthermore," she pointed at the newest addition, "The Xil piece is just a bit different. But I think that they all once constituted a single piece."

    Jimmy stared back at the artifact and felt a chill go down his spine.

    "You sayin' they make something bigger?"

    "It's just a theory," Doctor Hanson shook her head. "But there's an attraction between them that I've detected. A sort of harmonic resonance. Given the points of contiguous linear-,"

    "Uh," Jimmy held up a hand, making the doc blink in surprise, as her patter slowed. "Er, sorry, but, I think I've got a better idea."

    "Oh?"

    "We could just ask one of the people who knew about them before we did. You know, the experts."

    Doctor Hanson chuckled.

    "Well, Mr. Findlay isn't an expert on – oh!" She interrupted herself. "You mean Yuriko!"

    "Yeah," he rubbed at his chin, the scratchiness letting him know he'd need a bit of a shave soon, "She's the one who came to me first. Right before Tychus, admittedly, but still."

    Then he held up a finger, and glanced around the lab while the doc looked bemused.

    "Uh…Jim? What are you doing?"

    Jimmy's shoulders slumped as he looked around.

    "Sometimes she pops up right around now," he sighed.

    "Oh…well, maybe she's-,"

    Only then did the door to the lab open to reveal Yuriko with hauling a hovering pallet of glowing protoss bits and bobs. A data pad was in her free hand, one that she was currently engrossed in.

    "Hey, Stetmann! Rest of your protoss samples are here! You-," the psychic cut herself off as her mind no doubt scanned the local surface thoughts nearby. "Oh. Raynor. You look into the crystal yet?"

    "No," he grunted.

    "Then – ah, yeah," she blinked rapidly as she assessed the minds around her. "The artifact pieces. There's five, total."

    "Five," Jimmy parroted back flatly.

    "Five," she nodded.

    "Yuriko…," he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Did you know that the piece was on Xil? Before Moebius, I mean."

    "Sure, but wasn't like we were going to tell them that, not when we were competing for them. Or, at least, we'd planned on it," she said as she shrugged.

    Jimmy struggled to find words as Stetmann popped in, gave a whole heaping pile of technobabble to Yuriko, then strained to tug in the pallet into the research rooms outside of the main lab. Doctor Hanson, meanwhile, seemed fascinated to learn that there were a total of five, and was already typing up a storm on her datapad as she stared at the floating artifact pieces.

    "Then you know where the other two pieces are," he eventually managed to say.

    "Yeah," Yuriko sniffed, "But they're not easy to get to. Well, one might be, the other isn't. Either way, I doubt that Moebius would offer the same pay if you went and got them for them before even they figured it out, might be more, might be less," she waggled a hand. "I can say that until you get all five together and do some stuff to 'em they're pretty harmless," she smiled at him.

    Jimmy rubbed at his temple again before unscrewing his flask and taking a sip. Then when he lowered it, he found Yuriko just staring at him with a raised eyebrow next to the artifact pieces, and continued drinking from it. Only once it was finished did he stop and screw the top back on.

    "Happy now?" She said, hands on her hips.

    "No," he grunted. "Are you gonna tell me where the other pieces are?"

    "They're not going anywhere. And you made your choice, to work with Tychus and Moebius," she shook her head. "Relax, Raynor. There's other things to do than focus on the artifacts."

    "Oh yeah? Like what?"

    Yuriko's smile faded.

    "Have you heard about Meinhoff?"

    ====================================================​

    Jimmy sipped from his flask and stared at the star map while the alcohol burned its way down. The Hyperion was proudly represented, alongside its vikings and wraiths and munin, the group of supporting aircraft significantly more numerous and well-equipped than the Raiders had ever possessed up until this point. It was just a sad sight that for all that they were still a bit dwarfed by the MannCo fleet that waited just a short stellar distance away. Unlike the last few MannCo ships that they'd run into, these ones either didn't have their stealth fields on or weren't equipped with them. Four battlecruisers, each of them recognizably the outdated Leviathan-class. Still, battlecruisers were battlecruisers, with access to Yamato cannons. Even if nothing else on those ships was a threat, four Yamato blasts – outdated or not – could rock quite a few things. Then there was the enormous fleet of cargo ships they hovered protectively over. He, Matt, and Yuriko had been up early to see them arrive, along with Doctor Hanson some reason, while Tychus had shown up last.

    "Does anybody want to explain to me why we're even doin' this?" Tychus piped up right about then, puffing away at his cigar. "We ain't even getting' paid much beyond fuel costs for this one. What," he chortled, "Did MannCo finally start running a bit low on money?"

    "How can you even say that," Doc said, shaking her head at the larger man. "Not everything has to be about money."

    Tychus didn't even bother responding, just raising an eyebrow at her naiveté.

    "It is a fair question, Yuriko. MannCo's never shown issues with resources before. So…why now?" Matt asked, turning to look at the woman in question.

    Yuriko just glanced between the three men and rolled her eyes.

    "Don't any of you watch the news?" She tutted before bringing up a data stick and plugging it in.

    The intro jingle to UNN blared out from the speakers as various people on the snug confines of the bridge turned to look. As was expected, the face of UNN's main anchor, Donny Vermillion, appeared looking the same as ever. It didn't matter that the Swarm was invading the sector, or that dozens of planets had been abandoned to the zerg, or even that so-called austerity measure had been introduced by the Emperor. Donny's hair was perfectly combed and coiffed, and his mustache was equally well groomed, all without a single wrinkle in his clothing.

    "Hello again everyone, and thank you for joining us." He began promptly, swiveling slightly to face a different camera. "UNN's own Kate Lockwell is now reporting live from the ship Andross IV, a refugee ship in orbit around the planet Meinhoff."

    Immediately the camera switched, showing the eponymous reporter standing in what appeared to be some hallway or another on the ship, the windows outside behind her filled to the brim with all manner of ships that floated in an uneasy cloud. In the background of the hallway, more than one haggard looking terran passed by, some of them glaring at the camera, while others seemed too shell-shocked to care at all for anything except putting on foot in front of the other. Two Dominion marines were standing just barely in frame, though for some reason they were facing outwards rather than towards the camera.

    "Thanks, Donny," Kate said with a stern nod, the usual smiles and cheerful manner replaced with somberness. "The situation out here is on the verge of something gruesome. Absolutely enormous refugee fleets have been arriving at Meinhoff since the Swarm invaded, made up of an eclectic mix of ship types as people evacuated as quickly they could on just about anything that was capable of space travel," she turned and pointed out of one of the windows, where a small dropship shot past, the symbol on it undeniably MannCo. "In fact, there are millions of people here who wouldn't be otherwise, thanks to being evacuated by MannCo ships due to defense contracts held by fringe worlds. This very ship I'm on is MannCo chartered."

    The image of Kate shrunk to less than half the screen as Donny's disapproving face appeared once more.

    "MannCo? Disturbing news, Kate. MannCo is a notorious PMC with reckless disregard for their own lives, and the lives of others, knowingly combatting the Dominion in the name of disreputable pseudo-governments," he shook his head. "Worse, they knowingly associate with that monstrous terrorist Jim Raynor!"

    Yuriko snorted, but Jimmy and Matt found themselves focused on the report itself. Doctor Hanson had her hands in front of her mouth, horrified at what she was seeing and hearing.

    "Maybe so, but these fleets are struggling to reach the Core Worlds of the Dominion," Kate continued, eyes flicking away to something else before looking back to the cameras. "But most of them won't. Vital supplies are few, and the planet of Meinhoff simply isn't capable of sustaining them all. MannCo has taken significant casualties from the zerg while evacuating these people, heavily reducing what could have been billions in casualties to the invasion, but people are wondering if they might have completely exhausted themselves to do it."

    Jimmy started and glanced over to Yuriko, who looked almost completely indifferent to the supposed potential death knells that Lockwell was reporting. The sheer amount of money that had been given to the Raiders, the trading and selling of equipment, the insane tech…how much did MannCo really have left to give? It was a worrying thought, right when he'd started to get used to just a bit of power in his corner, even if he couldn't be sure if it wasn't completely clean.

    "Well Kate, that's because they're just a company of mercenaries," Donny gave a small amused laugh as he 'explained' the issue. "Much like the Combine, they just don't have the same grit, faith, and strength of the Emperor's forces. They've been retreating from the zerg since the invasion started, after all!"

    "Oh like you haven't been too?" Jimmy snorted under his breath.

    Lockwell, to her credit, didn't even engage in the obvious mudslinging in favor of doing her actual job as a reporter. Instead, she appeared to be looking rather more concerned than she was before, her eyes now solidly focused on something off camera.

    "As it is, Donny, these refugees, like others," she said after visibly swallowing at the sight of something off-screen, "Are running dangerously low on supplies. They're short on things like food, clean water, and hope-,"

    "Kate, we'll discuss how we'll rescue those worlds when we get there," Donny cut in, obviously exasperated with how he rolled his eyes.

    Kate shook her head.

    "There's a lot of talk about being rescued, Donny, but most of it seems to be pinning hopes on MannCo or even para-military and rebel groups such as Raynor's Rai-,"

    "Great report Kate," Donny cut in, but before Lockwell's face disappeared, everyone could see her duck and dodge a thrown bottle.

    "FUCK THE DOMINION!" An angry woman's slurring voice could be heard. "And FUCK MENGSK!"

    "Step back!" One of the red-armored Dominion marines barked. "I said step back!"

    Only then did the camera cut off, leaving Jimmy and Matt staring wide-eyed at the screen as Donny cleared his throat nervously and adjusted his already perfect tie a few times. He blinked a few times before looking ever so slightly below camera and began speaking once more.

    "Live from a refugee ship over Meinhoff, a great report from our own Kate Lockwell," he said with forced pride and cheerfulness. "Where everyone awaits the Dominion's generous aid over unreliable mercenaries such as MannCo." His relative calm restored, Donny's smile grew bright and toothy once more as the camera shifted slightly and zoomed in on his face. "Up next, an exclusive Vermillion commentary: refugees, are they really…our responsibility?"

    The clip then came to a halt, the recording finished. Matt's fists clenched and unclenched as he shook his head, while Jimmy felt his hand squeezing a little too hard on his flask, turning his knuckles white with the pressure. Doc just shook her head slowly, incredulous at the words that had just been spewed at them. Yuriko, as before, looked mostly impassive as she manipulated the controls to zoom in on the scrolling bar, muting the recording and reversing it slightly so that all of the stories at the time could be properly read.

    'Refugees flood into Umoja'.

    'Kel-Morian Combine forces indentured servitude on refugees in exchange for safety.'

    '1st​ Fleet engages zerg in Sara system.'

    "Hoo boy, that Donny boy's a real sweetheart, huh?" Tychus whistled after temporarily removing his cigar to speak. "Strictly speaking, I ain't got no compulsion to risk my neck or spend my time for them folks," he snorted and pointed at the screen with the cigar, "But at least I'm honest about it. That's just slimier'n snake snot," he chuckled as he popped the cigar back between his lips.

    "That," Yuriko said, making Jimmy blink and look over at her and find that she was looking right back at him. "Is why."

    Matt actually looked a bit worried.

    "Is MannCo actually-,"

    "We're fine," she shook her head, "For now. That's just UNN's spin on things."

    Well, Jimmy thought, that was the first time he'd been relieved about their lies.

    "MannCo is helping evacuate fleets to Umojan worlds willing to take them, as well as settle ones that are within Umojan territory and have recently been terraformed with the help of Doctor Hanson," she continued, gesturing towards the woman who actually blushed slightly.

    "Well, I just…thought that if some of those worlds could be settled, Umoja might-,"

    "No need to say anything else, Doc," Jimmy smiled at her with a bit of awe in him at her deed. "That's…incredible stuff, you know?"

    "Indeed," Yuriko nodded. "The terraforming research of Doctor Hanson has allowed the Umojan Protectorate to settle over a dozen worlds that have always nominally been within their territory yet remained too sparse and barren to have more than mining settlements. Now, that's changed."

    Jimmy didn't actually know much about the tech and process of terraforming, only that it was arduous, expensive, and potentially incredibly dangerous if even a little bit went wrong.

    "Doctor Hanson, that's…amazing!" Matt said honestly.

    "She's saved at least a billion lives," Yuriko added smugly, making Tychus drop his cigar out of his mouth, this time failing to catch it. "And I mean that factually and mathematically."

    "Holy hell, doc, and you didn't think that wasn't something to talk about?" Jimmy exclaimed, eyebrows nearly at his hairline.

    The doc just blushed harder, coughing slightly and tucking some hair behind her ear, almost cringing beneath the attention.

    "I…I mean, I didn't want to sound arrogant or anything…," she stammered. "I never want to…to boast about something like that."

    "MannCo ships provided the airlifting for those without refugee fleets and supplies to the ones that did, and in fact still is," Yuriko said, "But she helped, even if not immediately on-hand and directly, to get planets ready enough that Umoja was willing to help take in refugees, giving them the space and accessibility to resources to manage it."

    Jimmy was still shaken by the numbers being thrown out there. Billions had died on Tarsonis, but it had been one of the most densely populated planets in the entire Korprulu Sector. Billions more lived out there, amongst the stars, spread across a multitude of planets. The zerg consumed entire planets. He stared as Yuriko fiddled with the star map, miniaturizing the still image of Donny Vermillion's face, and started inputting the names of various Dominion worlds, one after another. Each one she left highlighted. Jimmy had to squint, then let his eyes widen like dinner plates at the numbers being placed next to each planet. Many of the planets he'd never even heard of, but some he had. Mostly the ones closest to Char, who had stubbornly remained there despite knowing that they would be first in line of the zerg ever spread outwards aggressively again from the zerg 'homeworld'.

    "We've run the numbers," Yuriko pointed at the glowing field of highlighted worlds. "If it weren't for MannCo's transporting and donating fuel and other vital supplies, and Doctor Hanson's sharing her work with us – that we subsequently used in Umoja, apologies Doctor-,"

    "No, no, it's…perfectly fine," Doc waved her hands vigorously, "I mean, copyright law and usage of proprietary research is one thing, but…if it saves those people from dying to the zerg or starvation, then I'd say it's worth it," she nodded firmly before a very small smile came to her lips. "One of my father's greatest joys was seeing life flourish in the stars, it just rarely happened because of the expenses and time it takes to make work well. Frankly, I'm astonished that Umoja had the money to terraform so many worlds."

    "They didn't," Yuriko snorted.

    That finally broke a bit of the spell that had unknowingly been cast as everyone stared at Yuriko.

    "But…," Doc said hesitantly. "But how could…the sheer amount of money for materials and adjustments…,"

    "We split the bill," Yuriko shrugged, her hands held up slightly as she looked down with her eyes just a bit wide before blinking and looking up at Matt.

    "You split the bill…with one of the three major governments in the Korprulu Sector," Jimmy said slowly.

    Matt cleared his throat.

    "That's all incredible, really, but…I'm just…how have we not heard of this?" He said, his voice not quite dubious. "Moving billions of people is-,"

    "Ah, Matt?" Yuriko interrupted and then pointed a thumb at Donny Vermillion's face, having blown the image up somehow without touching the console physically. "For one thing, MannCo is moving fleets of refugees at this very moment, yes, but for another over two thirds of the fleeing people are doing so under their own power – since we helped refuel their tanks at least. But the most widespread news service that you get in this area of space…," she trailed off.

    She manipulated the star map further and the one mention of MannCo in the scrolling bar became the centerpiece. One that Jimmy had somehow missed the first time around.

    'MannCo forces lose three battlecruiser squadrons in combat against the Zerg Swarm'.

    "As for Umoja not talking about it loudly, why would they? Quiet is practically the watch word for the entire Protectorate."

    That, at least, felt like completely unvarnished truth. Umoja was oddly notorious in that regard. Their Shadowguards were infamous infiltrators and information specialists, rather than the more open military bent of a Dominion ghost. They were both smaller and less wealthy than either the Combine or the Dominion, and had to rely on such measures to remain a peer to the other two major terran stellar powers. Everyone knew that.

    "Still…I feel like more people would have talked about this," Matt said, running a hand through his hair and stopping as Yuriko raised an eyebrow at him. "It's not that I don't believe it's true, of course."

    "It's just that seeing is believing," Yuriko finished then shrugged again. "The thing is, Matt, is that when people get desperate enough – usually because about a million zerg are bearing down on them and half the planet is covered in creep – they'll accept NDAs and the like and just accept being elsewhere. And, with MannCo ships and the highest speed of warp travel, you can stuff a lot of people into temporary standing room on all kinds of ships."

    Jimmy couldn't really argue with that. He knew better than most that desperation made for some strange times and stranger bedfellows.

    "Really? What kinds of ships?" Matt pressed.

    "Oh, you know, hollowed out battlecruisers, Hercules cargo ships stripped to their bare bones to make even more room, every ship with a warp drive that we could purchase…really, the fact of the matter is, MannCo converted over 90% of our fleet into temporary transports," she said calmly despite the insanity of that statement. "Which, of course, resulted in letting the zerg penetrate deep into the Dominion."

    Matt rocked back on his heels, looking both awed and horrified at the same time.

    "Even if it cost their planets, I'd say that saving their lives was worth it," he nodded curtly. "I just wish we could have helped…ah, right."

    "Anyways," Yuriko continued, gesturing out at the star map which she'd reduced to show the MannCo fleet again. "That is why we're doing this. MannCo is stretched thin across multiple planets, and we're getting pushed back by the zerg in too many places. So we're unable to make this delivery on our own. Frankly, those ships," she pointed at the aging battlecruisers, "Need to get on their way. And the people of Meinhoff need those supplies. So can we get this show on the road?"

    "That, at least, we can agree on," Jimmy nodded. "But, let me guess, MannCo also thinks that it could be a benefit for the Raiders to show up as big heroes?"

    Yuriko didn't even bother to look sheepish, she just gave a single jerk of her head and splayed her hands semi-wide.

    "Uh…yeah?" She said. "Besides, you saw that report. There are people there that might support the revolution.

    "Sir, it's a bit underhanded in mindset, but she could be right," Matt said.

    "Again, they could just warp in themselves," Tychus groused, "Ain't like they absolutely need escorts, partner. Couldn't this just paint a bigger target on us for making the Dominion look bad?"

    "What, Tychus, you scared of helping people out?" Jimmy couldn't help but poke.

    Tychus just made a noise of disgust and started walking out of the bridge.

    "This is for the birds, partner. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the cantina," he called out before the door shut.

    Jimmy just shook his head and looked over at Matt.

    "Punch in those confirmation codes. Let's get those people on Meinhoff some help."

    "Yes sir!"

    ======================================​

    The first thing that Jimmy had thought was that the reports had gravely understated just how bad things had gotten at Meinhoff. Because of course UNN wouldn't want to publicize just how badly the Dominion was failing its people. Of just how empty Mengsk's promises were. The atmosphere was completely clogged by ships that were hovering in place with as little usage of their preciously low fuel reserves. Some had actually bound themselves together with strange patchwork girders and the like with zero-g SCV work, to the point that they looked like mobile haphazard space stations. The signals from the planet were no better. Every square foot of land that could possibly be used and then some was filled up with refugee camps. The moment that they'd jumped into the system, dozens of scans led to dozens of communication requests, the signals and reports leaping around Meinhoff that the Hyperion – that Raynor's Raiders – had arrived at the head of a massive convoy of unmarked cargo ships.

    No one cared that the ships and their cargo could have been stolen from the Dominion for all they knew. In fact, some of them hoped for it. It had been the work of about half of a day to get things somewhat organized, to look and find the right local leaders that had risen up amongst the refugees. Some were former magistrates; some had been elected by their fellows for successfully guiding them to safety. That wasn't to say there wasn't friction, of course, it was impossible for there not to be amongst so many people, from so many worlds. Thankfully, Yuriko could help out with that. She scoured the minds of those they met with, to see just what was what with them. The spectres did too, though they were a lot quieter about it.

    Still.

    Something in his heart beat just that little bit easier with every crate unloaded from the MannCo cargo ships. People cheered, they cried, they hugged one another as the crates were popped open to reveal clean drinking water and high-calorie meal packs that didn't require heating. It wasn't the most sumptuous food ever, not like what was served on Korhal, but it was better than dying of dehydration or starvation. Other ships, high above the planet, were currently being resupplied in zero-g, containers for fuel or SCVs repairing damaged reactors and engines busy moving about. In this case, it was actually a really good thing to see whole bunches of lights in the sky disappear, because it meant that they were actually moving again to hopefully safer areas. That wasn't to say there wasn't pushing and shoving, but sickly refugees were hardly a match for a firm hand in CMC armor steering them off from stealing from one another or taking more than their allotment. It meant that a handful of Raiders could actually guard an entire cargo ship without too much issue. Vikings were able to do the same job on their lonesome.

    "…okay," Tychus sighed from next to him. "I'll admit it. This is…nice."

    It sounded like Tychus was really having to work to say it, like pulling a tooth with some rusty pliers, but for once Jimmy wasn't going to call him on it.

    "…yeah," Jimmy nodded. "I'm gonna go help pull some more crates off the ship. Wanna help?"

    Jimmy could see the rejection that formed on Tychus' lips, only to be pleasantly surprised as the words themselves never actually verbalized. The convict instead looked up and away from him to the absolutely teeming hordes of people who were laughing and crying, all of them waving their arms and giving thanks to the Hyperion. There were too many children out there, Jimmy noted solemnly. Some were carried on the shoulders of their parents, their older siblings, or others entirely. Some walked alone, some tugged their siblings along with no one else around showing any familial resemblance.

    "Yeah. Might as well let the world get to know Tychus the People's Hero," he said with a forced laugh.

    Then the two stepped down the ramp, and Jimmy realized he might have made a mistake when some of the refugees pointed him out.

    "RAYNOR!"

    "THAT'S JAME'S RAYNOR!"

    "MARSHAL!"

    There was a moment's hesitation in Tychus behind him at the wave of sound that hit them, but Jimmy couldn't help but smile when he heard the big man following behind him into the sea of onlookers.

    "I'm just here to help, folks!"

    ======================================​

    "-massive amount of supplies rendered freely unto the desperate refugees on Meinhoff," the reporter continued as he smoked.

    Behind him, the crowds around the Hyperion had only just begun to reduce slightly, the infamous flagship of Raynor's Raiders proudly sitting on the ground within Combine space. The blonde reporter paused to take a drag off his cigarette before he continued. Around him, two massive lines walked past, each going in opposite directions. One line was carrying meal packs, small packs of water, and bags with such things in them. The other was streaming right towards the massive cleared zone where the Hyperion had set down with the cargo ships. A trio of vikings soared past, their colors a familiar black, white, and blue.

    "For weeks now, the Dominion has sat and done nothing about hundreds of millions of their citizenry fleeing the zerg onslaught, despite the claims of near-divine mandate to guide and protect them," the man chuckled darkly. "Only now, for the third day in a row, the Hyperion, the personal craft of Raynor's Raiders, has landed upon Meinhoff's refugee zones, bringing with them cargo ships packed to the brim."

    The cigarette had been burnt to a nub by the aggressive drags on it, but the reporter simply shuffled his coat a bit and pulled out another. The quickly rotating day/night cycle of Mienhoff transitioned as he'd spoken, stark light fading into temporary darkness at remarkable rapidity. Luckily, the light of his floating camera and the glow of his cigarette kept the reporter illuminated enough. Bright floodlights turned on instantly, installed into patrolling goliaths and vikings in walking mode to ensure the paths remained bright enough to not risk injury.

    "Of course, the question on many people's mind is…where is the Dominion?" The reporter spread his arms wide. "If they had the money to reverse the near total destruction of Korhal, why couldn't they help their own citizens elsewhere? Dozens of worlds on the fringe abandoned, and now plenty more planets have found themselves becoming the new 'fringe'," he air-quoted with his fingers. "Meanwhile, the Dominion has proudly reported that they've successfully…pulled all of their fleets to the Core Worlds, even combining the 1st and 2nd Fleets."

    He turned and pretended to glance into the sky, paused, then turned back with a shrug.

    "Sorry, thought I heard the Dominion finally doing something for their people," he splayed his arms to the side as the light of the sun came back into being and lit the area properly. "My mistake. After all, UNN has just said that – despite the fact that zerg have now been sighted across all Dominion territory top to bottom – 'the Terran Dominion is holding firm under zerg aggression'," he paused to meaningfully glance at the refugees on both sides, even tilting the camera up to see the still enormous refugee fleets there, "And that their Industrial Complex is stepping up production on all fronts."

    He paused and took a drag off his cigarette and chuckled again while shaking his head.

    "You know, despite the total loss of a frankly enormous number of planets. And manpower panic leading to them once again dipping into the Confederacy's old bag of tricks – 'stepping up recruitment in the Penal System'," he paused and mouthed 'resoc' in silence, knowing that the subtitle would be present after only half a second of delay, "And, of course, my favorite part, 'The Marine Corps is ready to get into the fight'."

    The reporter snorted as he exhaled another cloud of smoke.

    "And it only took them the loss of the fringe, dozens of planetary losses, and billions of displaced refugees. I-,"

    "Holy shit," an infamous man's voice broke into the pirate broadcast. "Michael Liberty. I didn't believe it when they told me some reporter was out here."

    For the first time in a long time, Michael Liberty lost his on-camera composure, his cigarette dropping out of his suddenly gaping mouth. He turned slightly, the camera dutifully following his movements, to see none other than James Raynor himself, the man dressed in his own customized black CMC armor, two heavy supply crates in his armored hands. The man was also smoking, as it turned out, though due to his armor he stood a good bit above the reporter himself.

    "I…Jim," Michael stammered and trailed off. "Uh…,"

    "Oh, shit," Raynor said as he saw the camera. "My bad, man. I'll back off."

    "No no!" Michael half-shouted, arms waving. "It's fine! I…what are you doing?"

    Raynor glanced down at the crates. He was a good bit away from the main distribution site, after all, and only a few Raiders were with them, similarly carrying crates. The refugees stared at them in awe, some of them bumping right into one another before being shoved or chivvied along.

    "Some of the supplies weren't just food n'water, or fuel and the like. Some people donated, uh," he blushed slightly.

    James Raynor blushed on camera.

    "They're toys!" A woman shouted at Michael, this one dressed in medic armor.

    Her helmet's gray faceplate slid open to reveal a scarred and middle aged woman with dusky brown skin.

    "There's a lot of kids out here. Kids need more than just food and water, they ain't no damn fool plants," she continued, adjusting her grip on the crates. "So we're gonna deliver them."

    Michael blinked, slowly.

    "And…you are…?"

    "Benjamina Brown," she stated proudly before her expression grew murderous. "Late of Mar Sara, before the Dominion came in and started killing us for fun, and before Raynor came and saved us."

    Even bereft of a proper network, Michael was a consummate reporter.

    "Really?" He said with intensity. "Would you be willing to give me an interview on that?"

    Ms. Brown looked over at Raynor, who looked back at Michael.

    "I fought with Mr. Liberty once or twice," he eventually said. "He's a good man. It's your choice though, BB. But first," he tilted his head at the crates.

    BB, as Michael noted she'd been called, mulled it over before nodding.

    "Sure, Liberty. But first we gotta make like Santa."

    And so they did.

    Afterwards, despite Michael Liberty's broadcasts being underground at best, it was not long before images surfaced of James Raynor delivering toys to refugee children on Meinhoff.
     
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    • 106 - Sour Dreams
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    • 106 - Sour Dreams​

    The Raiders had been on Meinhoff for a week, and even in that short of a time the effects were outright miraculous. A good number of the refugees present had already managed to move on to the Core Worlds of the Dominion, to places where even Mengsk's jackbooted thugs couldn't justify abandoning them without effort. In truth, however, the vast majority, more than half had chosen instead to flee to Umoja. Ordinarily the smallest of the three major stellar terran nations would likely never accept such high numbers of new arrivals, but everyone knew that they were willingly settling people on multiple planets within their territory that were in the process of terraforming. Even though there were ships consistently arriving, as the zerg continued their advance, just as many were flying out. Some into the Dominion, racing to stay inside the slowly shrinking circle of their influence, most to Umoja, and a bare few even to the Combine. The sheer volume of supplies and aid from the Raiders in helping organize things had utterly dismantled the pressure cooker that had been building on the planet. And even though he had been present for all of it, had helped out in distributing supplies, all while filming for his next broadcasts, Michael Liberty was struggling to believe it.

    Unfortunately, the world wasn't going to sit around and wait for him to finish processing it.

    "Keep moving, keep moving! I want this water on that ship before it leaves for Umoja!"

    Michael just watched, smoking a cigarette, as James Raynor, wanted supposed terrorist, commanded his men to keep shifting crates down the ramps of the Hyperion. He wasn't dressed in his black CMC custom armor and was instead dressed in a rather dirty white t-shirt and a ragged vest, even his jeans were threadbare. That, and the single revolver on his hip opposite a flask, didn't come close to the picture of the maddened menace that the Dominion media portrayed. But then, Michael had known the man before the Dominion had even existed.

    "Big Ben, can you handle the rest of this?" Jimmy called out, drawing Michael's attention to the burly Mar Saran medic, the woman herself already the subject of a few interviews on his part when he'd learned of her leadership of the rebels of that planet.

    "Sure can, boss. No worries," she waved a hand and walked to the fore, her CMC armor hissing slightly as she took Jimmy's position, the rebel leader already on his approach.

    "Jimmy," Michael greeted with a nod.

    "Michael," Raynor nodded back. "You up for a drink?"

    "Probably shouldn't," Michael shrugged and looked over the insanely busy starport of Meinhoff. "Why not."

    After that, Michael let himself be pulled along into a blast into the past, striding along the Hyperion once more. This time, he wasn't trying to escape the ship, but was instead being escorted onto it. Instead of marines trying to bar his way, they were letting him through door after door. Instead of the Hyperion presiding over the monstrous destruction of Tarsonis, it was the herald and command center. Also, the cantina felt entirely new, or at least, he hadn't seen it when the ship was under the control of the Sons of Korhal. A few minutes later and the two of them were sitting at a table, bottles of beer in hand. There was a calm silence for a moment before he decided to break it.

    "I'll be honest, Jimmy, for a while there it seemed like the Raiders, the revolution, had stalled."

    Raynor grimaced at the truthful statement and then sighed.

    "I can't say you're wrong, Michael, but things have certainly picked up again, I'd say."

    "Oh certainly," Michael nodded and tipped his bottle towards the man before taking a swig. "This, especially. The Dominion can lie as much as they want, but you're literally throwing millions of witnesses at them who know your real character."

    Every ship that fled into the Dominion represented one hell of a lot of mouths.

    "I don't want them talking too loud," Raynor shook his head. "Mengsk isn't going to shy away from purging anyone who gets a little too rambunctious under his boots."

    It would have been nice if they lived in a universe where Michael could claim, definitively, that Mengsk wouldn't just purge the refugees in vast numbers if they showed too much open support for Raynor.

    It would have been nice if they lived in a universe where the billions of people on Tarsonis hadn't been torn to shreds by the zerg, too.

    "They won't, they know better than that," Michael hedged, "Plus, you asking them to be quiet about it probably helped with that."

    "We can hope," Raynor shrugged. "Still, I was surprised to find you here of all places."

    "I go where the stories are," Michael shrugged back. "We both fight in our own ways."

    "Hey," Raynor held up his beer bottle, "Amen to that."

    "Amen," Michael tapped his bottle against his friend's and they both drank deep.

    ====================================================================
    ​
    Two men swayed slightly as they stood in the Hyperion labs, examining a quietly floating thing of alien artifice.

    "So, what did you say this thing was again?" Liberty said as he lit up another cigarette and drank the last of his latest beer.

    "Doc said it was a sort of…memory storage device," Jimmy shrugged, his eyes slightly narrowed as he scrutinized the floating crystal. "An Ihan crystal."

    "That Zeratul gave you," Michael said slowly. "Zeratul the protoss."

    "Right."

    "I uh, I wasn't around for those parts…but I've heard things."

    "Zeratul's a friend," Jimmy said firmly, grunting as he threw back yet more whiskey. "I trust him."

    "Uh huh."

    It wasn't Liberty's fault, Jimmy knew that. The reporter's experiences with the protoss were solely with them burning worlds and attacking positions on the battlefield that he'd happened to be in.

    "And he was worried about some kind of darkness…"

    "Something like that. He was a bit vague," Jimmy sighed. "He was desperate for me to take a look at it."

    "And how does that work?" Liberty raised an eyebrow, going to drink again before realizing his bottle was empty. "You think really hard at it or something?"

    "No, you just touch it, at least that's what the Doc said."

    Liberty puffed on his cigarette and looked between Jimmy and the crystal.

    "Uh huh….so?"

    "So what?"

    "Have you touched it yet?"

    Jimmy grimaced and rubbed at the back of his head.

    "Well no. Just…haven't had a real spare moment recently."

    Liberty smirked and gestured around the lab, pausing momentarily at the large pulsating mass of flesh in one of the test tubes and the crackling sphere held up by glowing crystals in another.

    "Jimmy, I've never seen the Hyperion in as good condition as it is now. You'll be here at least a few more days helping people shift supplies and get refueled. And if this Zeratul said it was important…?"

    Jimmy sighed again and then drank the rest of his whiskey.

    "Okay, okay, fine."

    It was surely a combination of being significantly drunk and Liberty actually being right that finally pushed him to do it. Jimmy reached forward gingerly, looking back at an expectant looking Liberty, and then finally crossed those final few inches with his fingers and pressed them against the Ihan crystal.

    Raynor…

    Jimmy winced as the voice of Zeratul washed through his mind, the noise so pained and weary that it cut through the buzz of the whiskey in his belly. He stumbled slightly, which brought Liberty forward, his cigarette tossed to the ground as he reached forward to catch him. Which, inadvertently, brought his own fingers against the crystal, which subsequently had Liberty staggering as well as the crystal flashed.

    "Agh!"

    The hounds of the void are closing in…I impart my essence - my very essence – into this crystal…so that you will see what I have seen…and that the future…may yet have hope…

    And then the world went black for a brief moment, at least until two burning green eyes and the vaguest shape of Zeratul's face appeared before him.

    Then he saw – felt – was traveling through the stars. What was Raynor and what was the memories of Zeratul mixed and melded until he couldn't be sure where one began and the other ended. When the next words came, it felt as if they were coming from his mind, his throat, transmitted to…himself? Zeratul – he – spoke to the crystal, desperate and pained, to help Raynor – himself? – understand and see what had occurred. The search for the ancient prophecy propelled him into the Void, to planet after planet, even rogue planets in the darkness between stars, until finally he left the Korprulu Sector proper entirely. It was only by the most generous of definitions that he was on the barest periphery fringe space of the Sector, a remote world in a single planet solar system.

    Then he – Zeratul? – spoke the name of the world, just as Liberty did next to him, the two men frozen in half-crouch as the energies and memories overwhelmed them.

    =====================================================================


    ​
    Ulaan was an arid world. No, more than that. It held the dusty dryness of a tomb. Perhaps, in truth, because it was. There was a sense of ominous pressure to the entire place, pressing down upon my mind and body from the moment my ship passed through the atmosphere. It was curious, to feel it out with my psionic essence, and feel something that was akin to the ghost of an echo come back. The whole of the planet was not submerged by the Void, yet nor was it akin to the light of the Khala. In truth, I had only felt such a mixture, such a presence, diluted even by eons, in places that had been once traveled by the Xel'Naga. Ulaan, then, had indeed been touched strongly by the Gods. For all of that, however, I could not relax as I crept along its crevices and crumbling pathways of stone. There was something beyond myself on the world. Just what, however, I could not say. The depths and mysteries of the universe were infinite, after all.

    But, in time, I found what I was looking for…though it brought me little joy to do so.

    Eventually I discovered paths, or at least the ruins of them, and followed them into the depths of the world. At the ends of those paths I discovered the first of a number of shrines. The pictograms carved in the stone from so long ago should not have been so accurate, and yet they were. Such was the foretelling of the Xel'Naga. I was alone in the darkness, with only the light of my psi-blade to light my path, and yet even pressing a hand against the stone I could feel something more from within. Ideas, concepts, visions, compressed within the stone, reacting to my being.

    "The zerg swarm came," I murmured as I ran my hands across it, feeling the truth of the past in the present through the rock itself. "And the protoss rose against them, as the firstborn of the Gods."

    Then I felt the next impression of the stone, communicated directly into my mind as the Void danced beyond my vision, and felt a tremble go through my body. Was it true? Was it even possible? That the Xel'Naga which formed us, all of us, could return? No, more than that, were returning? The concepts locked psychically within the stone shook me as they came to me, one after another. And yet, just as powerfully they came, they stopped. The absence was sudden and bewildering, the stone of the shrine becoming simple stone once more, the powerful essence within gone somehow after communicating its truth to me.

    The Xel'Naga, returning? But for what purpose?

    "Do you come to save us, oh Gods? Or to destroy us?" I murmured aloud.

    Before I could contemplate further, the stale, nearly unmoving air of Ulaan twisted. Changed. An old, familiar stink passed in a half-dead breeze. It was accompanied, as well, by a pressure upon the Void around me, a weight against my mind. I spun where I stood yet was faced solely by the shadows and darkness of a dim cavern. Which meant nothing at all. I was an old warrior, and though confident in my abilities I knew well enough that there were powers that could conceal themselves from my sight. Within moments, my suspicions were proven correct, as zerg hydralisks slithered out of the shadows to strike at me. They were fast, and strong, and not nearly enough.

    But then, I, and their master, knew that.

    I felt her before she revealed herself more fully. That horrid pressure against my mind, against my very soul, a thing of carnage and venom and hate. She could conceal it, I knew, but there was no reason for it here. I would call it arrogance, had I not failed too many times in the past against her.

    "I knew you'd find your way here…eventually."

    Her every word dripped with acidic contempt, even as part of her essence casually attempted to flay my mind apart as she strode forth. I strained back, forcing the barbs to be blunted, even as I set my feet before her.

    "Your very presence here defiles this place, Kerrigan," I spat the name of my most hated enemy in the universe, watching the infernal glow of her eyes.

    Her eyes danced with madness, looking back and forth at something I could not perceive.

    "Can you hear them, Zeratul?" She asked softly, even while her mind continued to probe at my own. "Whispering from the stars?"

    The dust around her feet began to shudder.

    "The galaxy will burn with their coming…,"

    I ducked back through the Void, refusing to allow her to make the first move yet again. Perhaps, this was my chance. To avenge the Matriarch, to avenge so many lost and dead. To make right my failures of the past. This place was a tomb, and surely it could accommodate one more.

    "Perhaps…but you won't live to see it!" I declared as I leapt upon her.

    Foolishness. I know that now. Before I could strike even a single blow, she grabbed me from the air and held me, her presence and strength crushing me lightly enough to pain me but not strong enough to kill me. She could have, plainly, but instead whatever fresh madness that had come upon her compelled her to speak more.

    "Please," she scoffed, "Our petty conflicts mean nothing now." The glow of her eyes brightened further. "A storm is coming that cannot be stopped!" What might have been a smile passed her putrid lips. "Fitting that we should face it together."

    My fury compelled me, granted me strength, enough at least to strike. It was not a fatal blow, I had seen her regenerate from far more grievous wounds, yet the break in concentration was enough to allow me to pull back, to retreat to a safer distance. And, I will admit, there was some small amount of satisfaction in stripping one of her twisted wings from her, for a time. But the pain of her crushing might still reverberated across my body, shaking me out of the Void once more, forcing me to collapse to a knee.

    "Fate cannot be changed," she said it softly, and for once her suffocating presence ceased trying to snuff me out.

    All around the Queen of Blades, the zerg were beginning to swarm, in greater and greater number. I felt true despair, then. This sacred world was infested. It had been for some time, and yet I had not sensed it even when I had initially arrived. It had been made clear me to me, yet again, that I did not possess the strength to stand against her in open battle.

    "The end comes…and when it finds me?" she spoke casually as she regrew her wing, "I shall embrace it at last."

    "Moving a little fast there, aren't we?" A new voice piped through the cavern, drawing the zerg's eyes as well as my own.

    There, disturbingly close to where I had been only moments before, was another. My eyes widened even as I instinctively reached out with my mind, only to find myself rebuffed once more with a strength that baffled me. There, emerging from nowhere, a cloak falling in silence, stood another terran. Kerrigan's head tilted as the terran stood before her. A stranger suit of armor surrounded them from head to toe, similar only vaguely to the garb of the psychics that their race could marshal, their so-called 'ghosts' and 'shadowguards'. Dark purple lines glowed along glossy black, and in the terran's arms was a heavy rifle of a make I had never seen before that point. The terran floated above the ground in a manner I was largely only accustomed to seeing the high templar muster.

    "And who…are you?" Kerrigan drawled, her eyes narrowing.

    "Aw, you don't know?" The terran's voice was a strange thing, tinny and loud as it transmitted into the open air. "Didn't you just say you wanted to embrace me at last?"

    All that the Queen of Blades did was twitch, and a bolt of blinding psychic power fired out from her fingertips. I had thought to see the arrogant terran been blasted beyond the Void, only to stare as – along with Kerrigan – and see the terran still there. A large spherical shield of pure psychic energies surrounded her. The sprawling zerg swarm which had slowly crept into place all around her leapt forth, snarling and ripping and tearing, yet they could not find purchase either. A flash burst forth next, one that forced me to turn away and cover my eyes and shield my mind, and when I turned back I beheld a field of spilt gore and shattered chitin. The terran sniffed, making sure to do so loudly enough for it to echo around the cavern.

    "Nice! My turn," the terran said cheerfully.

    I stumbled back as massive swathes of the cavern tore themselves into the open air. Dozens of massive rocky protrusions became unmoored from the floor and ceiling with violent wrenches, three of them the size of the ancient colossi. I stared at the unashamed, impossible psychic strength of a mere terran, and it seemed even Kerrigan was surprised by the unbridled power on display. But I would not know for certain, for as soon as they were ripped into the air, they began flying down with wild speed directly upon Kerrigan. Before even the first rock reached her, I could feel the Queen of Blades begin lashing out, the Void shuddering with the force of it. The cavern would not survive the coming clash, a child could sense that much, let alone myself. I could not know the result of their battle, yet neither could I remain as a witness.

    The prophecy was yet uncertain, my understanding incomplete. There was surely more. There had to be some inkling of hope. I had to believe that. And so, though it may have shamed a prouder warrior, I turned from the ongoing fight and turned back to my course, clambering deeper into the ruins. Behind me the cavern shuddered and broke apart, and I found myself turning back one last time before I ascended out of sight as new but familiar sounds boomed out. There, I beheld the zerg swarming up out of the depths, only to be combatted now by terran troops. Marines, they called them, as well as some of their primitive vehicles unveiling themselves.

    Truly my sight was clouded on this world, that I could not sense the presence of the zerg nor even the terrans.

    Even worse, it seemed that as below, so above, for as I clambered to what I had thought to be relative safety I could hear the sounds of warfare. Primitive terran weaponry of all sorts chattered and boomed against screeches and hisses from hundreds of zerg throats. When I finally emerged onto the next level, I beheld a war, one involving such numbers and ferocity it seemed impossible for me to have failed to recognize the sheer mass of terran minds. The zerg, perhaps, I could understand, for Kerrigan had long ago proven her abilities in deceiving the Nerazim, but the terrans managing to conceal themselves from me was a quiet sore point in the depths of my heart. How could I not have sensed all of these minds? There was little time to pause and self-recriminate, however, I needed to keep moving. Neither group seemed to have noticed my presence, especially as I focused upon the Void and cloaked myself with practiced ease and began to move across the battlefield.

    I knew these terrans not, they bore not the mark of James Raynor, nor the Dominion, or even any of the other lesser terran nations and groups. Their emblems were unknown to me, and so too their character and purpose. Though they fought against the zerg now, I cannot say whether they would aid me or find me as a foe as well. As such, I could only watch as these black and purple armored terrans fought and died against the zerg. They had come in considerable force, both of them, but just as so many times in the past, the zerg were beginning to overwhelm their enemies with sheer numbers. Though I must admit, the terrans were giving battle with valiant effort, silent even as dozens of them died, firing without pause even as they were torn apart.

    There was more to the prophecy, I was sure of it now. It had taken a few moments to truly internalize it. Now I knew, not simply out of desperate hope, but because something within me, something I had gained by reaching the shrine told me so. That there was more, more to be learned at other shrines. I could sense them in the distance, cloaked in shadow, essences that resonated with that which I had taken within myself. So I stalked forward, as quickly as I could. Leaping across chasms through the Void, all the while watching as more and more terrans and zerg arrived. I beheld a trio of terran tanks be stomped to pieces by an ultralisk, wraiths crashing as mutalisk acid brought them low, and spore crawlers and spine crawlers set aflame by terran troops. Perhaps the zerg beheld me through the spore crawlers and overseers, but I cannot say. They were all too engaged with the open threat of the terrans to assault me out of the odd zergling and hydralisk.

    With good fortune, I reached the first shrine quickly.

    Unlike the one I had beheld when I arrived, this one was…more. I could feel the energies pulsating within, and they released with violent emerald light as I reached out with my mind! I felt knowledge be thrust upon me, yet it was buried past my consciousness with an ease that seemed impossible. Furthermore, the energies that suffused me salved my aching pain, energizing my body and mind in one. Even as the shrine went silent and lifeless, its purpose expended, I could not fully perceive the fragment of the prophecy given to me. I would not even be able to begin understanding it unless I had all of the prophecy, I knew it. It was while I contemplated that when I was forced to leap through the Void to safety once more, my instincts and psionic defenses screaming out a warning. No less than a second later the entire shrine was pulverized from below.

    The terran psychic from before was flying upwards, having been thrown with immense force upwards through the rapidly crumbling earth, Kerrigan snarling as she flew up after her. Bolts of psionic energy were exchanged through the air between the two, several forming from the tips of Kerrigan's wings and others from the air around the terran's head. Her rifle cracked out several shots, each projectile burning with light. The sound of the Queen of Blade's screech of pain as they burned holes through her torso was deafening. At the same time, the psychic's strange armor bore scratches and dents, but surprisingly no truly damaging tears or rents. There were no pithy exchanges, no words spoken between them. Only the deadly silence of a duel. I saw all of this in but a handful of seconds before they disappeared from sight once more, Kerrigan accelerating and tackling the terran directly through a cavern wall and elsewhere in the cave network.

    I had not thought myself to be surprised too swiftly again yet was once more when I came upon more of my kind battling the zerg further on. Stalkers, brothers of Shakuras, firing up against zerg flyers. These, I felt compelled to aid, especially when hydralisks uprooted themselves from below and began attacking them. Between us, the enemy were cleansed, though the sound of battle was ongoing now in all directions. We had but a moment to exchange word and thought, our minds already mingling in communication. Not as the Khala would bind, but with choice and free will.

    "Brothers," I called out to them, "What has brought you to this desolate world?"

    "Greetings, Exalted One," their leader bowed the legs of his walker, "We are in service to High Templar Karass. He is nearby."

    Strange, yes, but I could not deny being heartened by the presence of my brothers. And a High Templar? Perhaps fortune had decided to favor me, just this once.

    "I am gladdened to hear it, though we should keep moving to reach him."

    "Agreed, Exalted One. I am Ledress," the leader of the stalkers said as we began to move forward. "I had not expected to see one such as you here, much less the terrans."

    "I am on a quest for a prophecy," I told him as we struck down a group of zerglings, "One that, I hope, may provide a path towards salvation. As for the terrans, I have no inkling as to the reasons behind their presence here."

    "Then it is even more imperative we reach High Templar Karass," Ledress said with determination, "He will surely aid you."

    We fought on where we were compelled to do so but moved past more than a few fights between the terrans and the zerg.

    "I do not recognize their emblems, Exalted One, yet they fight the zerg with considerable ferocity," Ledress commented as we passed one such battle.

    "Neither do I," I related as I cut down another hydralisk, "But we must remain cautious of them."

    "Of course, Exalted One. But perhaps-,"

    The stalker was silenced by the growling engines of terran siege tanks as many of them pulled out ahead of us. Unfortunately, for once they were not pointed towards the zerg, but rather directly towards us. Some of the stalkers crouched, their energies poised to teleport, but I held out a hand. I cannot say for certain why, but my intuition was rewarded as the tanks did not fire. Instead, a terran pilot emerged from within one of them and called out to us. I could not sense their mind, nor see their face through their concealing uniform and armor, but their voice was clear and stringent.

    "Hey! Protoss! Dunno what you're doing here but watch out! There's a hatchery up ahead!"

    Despair welled up within me, as well as outrage.

    "She intends to truly infest this world, then," I growled, a noise echoed by the stalkers around me. "And what of you, terrans? What is your purpose here?" I said louder.

    "Uh," the tank commander paused, "Sorry, internal MannCo operational details are classified for non-clients. Which uh, means you, protoss."

    MannCo.

    I had not heard of such a group before that moment.

    "Anyway, we gotta go, so…if you're coming this way, try to wait until we've engaged the zerg hatchery and then move on, yeah? We're not cleared to engage protoss so you shouldn't have any trouble from us." They said before ducking back inside their tank.

    All of the siege tanks swiveled about on their treads and then began storming down the path, but we did not immediately follow them. I could feel the questions rising in my brother's minds.

    "I have never heard of this MannCo, but then I have scoured the Void alone. What of you, brothers?"

    "I cannot say we have either," Ledress said, glancing about at the other stalkers who similarly shook their heads. "But if they speak true, they are not out enemy this day."

    "We shall see," I shook my head. "We can at the least see if they spoke truly. Let us follow them and continue on our way. The next shrine is near."

    My fears, unfortunately, were realized. The siege tanks were firing at the hatchery, even as the zerg washed over them. Marines and 'firebats', as the terrans named their troops, were present in great number. The fight was considerable, but there was still a path through. I could feel the power of the shrine just a short distance away. Far too close to the hatchery for comfort. Thankfully, the power of the terran tanks was enough that the disgusting living structures of the zerg were being blown apart. Here, now, I could not deny my inclination. To let the terrans die in such number in attempting to cleanse the world was too dishonorable for me to stand.

    "Come brothers, let us aid them!" I called out and leapt to do just that.

    "By your lead, Exalted One!"

    It was not as fighting alongside James Raynor in the past. Not in the slightest. The soldiers of MannCo were disciplined and, aside from the one tank commander, utterly silent. As they fought, as they died. I assumed they were communicating on their primitive communication systems, for they were exceedingly well coordinated despite taking grievous casualties. Still, the hatchery was soon destroyed, along with all the other zerg nearby, and the revolting creep began to wither and die. The terrans did not even pause momentarily to mourn their dead, and instead immediately moved to deploy elsewhere on their ships, leaving me and my brothers on our lonesome at the sight of the second shrine. The second fragment was no more comprehensible than the first, though the energies it released once more healed my newer wounds, as well as those of the stalkers.

    Still, despite all that was occurring, I could feel the flame of hope burning brighter in my chest.

    Though it was tempered by the sound of rock being torn apart on a tremendous scale. Nearby, behind us where the hatchery once rested, came Kerrigan and the terran psychic once more. The rifle was gone, now, but had in turn been replaced by a blazing white blade of energy from a strange guard-less hilt. The two battered one another, lifting and throwing chunks of rock and flesh and metal. Blasts of blinding lightning and sheer kinetic force brought about by psychic intent flew this way and that, shattering their surroundings further. The terran's helmet had been scored, directly across the face, though not deep enough to reveal anything, while Kerrigan's body was already in the midst of healing numerous wounds. Beneath them erupted a massive nydus worm, which belched forth an entire swarm of mutalisks which joined in on the fight.

    Your hope – Kerrigan's voice burst across my mind, tight with pain and fury – is an…illusion, old fool! I will –

    "Eyes on me, Sarah!" The terran shouted, screaming with effort as another psychic eruption bloomed outwards which exploded the dozens of mutalisks surrounding them.

    The light of it was nearly blinding, not simply to my eyes, but to my mind as well.

    "Exalted One, we must flee! More zerg are swarming the area!" Ledress' urgent plea cut through it, aiding my focus.

    He spoke truly. The nydus worm may have died, but its body was still a channel through which a tide of zerg poured through. Perhaps, if the terrans were not here and openly battling the zerg, we might have endeavored to move more carefully, but we could not spare the effort or energy.

    "Then let us be off!"

    Still, as we did so, I directed my thoughts behind us to the ongoing fight.

    I will never give up the fight so long as there remains hope, Kerrigan. If you were truly able to read my mind so easily, you would know this!

    The only response was another unearthly howl of outrage.

    On we rushed through Ulaan's depths. A nuclear eruption staggered us at one point, one just in the distance, where many terrans and zerg could be seen. By the time we reached them, having slain an entire group of banelings on the way, there were barely any survivors left. All that remained was a handful of terran marines, who nevertheless stoically marched on. They did not acknowledge us, even as we emerged from the Void and followed them, to where the bulk of their forces were. Or had been, at least, as by the time we reached them there were only corpses left behind. But I could see the reasoning behind it, though my heart ached at the death of so many at the zerg's hands. The target of MannCo was clearly the hatchery which was now little more than shredded and irradiated meat. At the least, the terrans knew better than to leave any such structures behind if at all possible. The marines barely acknowledged us before a dropship came and flew them elsewhere.

    "These terrans…something about them makes me uneasy," Ledress noted as we moved on, "I cannot figure out what, precisely."

    "I understand what you mean, brother," I said back, "Their minds are strange. Clouded from my sight, somehow."

    The result of the terran psychic's effort, much as how Kerrigan had concealed the zerg?

    The thought was…disturbing.

    Thankfully, we soon reached our next destination. Even from a distance, I could feel the considerable power of High Templar Karass, and that of his warriors. Though I was Nerazim, the strength of the Khala was intriguing in its own way. I sensed his mind reaching out to us, politely and honorably exchanging customary greetings long before I saw him with my eyes. By the time we got there, I was granted the welcoming sight of a great many warriors being teleported in by way of warp prisms.

    "En Taro Tassadar, Prelate Zeratul! I am High Templar Karass," he bowed his head as he turned to face me, my unspoken question driving his next words. "My force tracked the Queen of Blades to this world – yet we know not what she seeks." His expression and aura darkened momentarily. "We also did not know of the terran presence here, but it seems…extensive. They have provoked the zerg, and already a portal has arisen through which the greater Swarm comes."

    My heart was both buoyed and sank at his words.

    "Time is short, then," I said rapidly as I walked to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. "I was drawn here, and Kerrigan as well I suspect, by an ancient prophecy. I must recover it before her."

    Though I was not connected to the Khala, the truth of my words was potent enough. The High Templar simply nodded firmly and turned back to his troops.

    "It will be an honor to fight alongside you, great one. Lead on!"

    Though my spirit swelled at his words, the universe – as ever – appeared to have other plans. Before us was arrayed a significant zerg presence, with many of their deadlier forms present amongst them, simply waiting for us to charge in. Before we could do so, however, vast explosions began to ripple out across Kerrigan's forces. The stereotypical mushroom cloud of the primitive but admittedly powerful force of terran nuclear missiles rose up again and again amongst the zerg. The force of it caused great cracks in the ground and rocky ceilings and walls, buffeting us all with the blast wave of each weapon.

    "The terrans have made their move," Karass declared, eyes narrowing. "Do they wish to prevent us from the prophecy as well, Prelate?"

    I shook my head. Though I had not seen from whence the nuclear weapons had been launched, it must have been from close by.

    "The terrans seem entirely unconcerned with my presence, only with that of the zerg. Here, now, I shall not question our fortune. We must move forward as swiftly as possible!"

    What might have been a tremendous battle became not one at all, for few zerg had survived the numerous explosions. Of those handful of survivors, none were any further than a few breaths from death. It was oddly anticlimactic, but no sooner had that foolish though crossed my mind than more nydus worms were bursting free, though by that point the shrine was already in sight. The forces of Karass, unbloodied and untouched by the previous zerg defenders, were able to slaughter the zerg without much difficulty at all.

    "I can sense…something within this shrine, it is true, but I cannot grasp what," Karass said uncertainly after we had regrouped.

    "I suspect that it can only be truly understood by possessing the previous fragments, my friend," I clasped a hand to his shoulder. "Be watchful, this should not take long."

    This time, it was different. The moment I stepped forth, I could feel what had been placed within me reaching out, recognizing the familiar essence within the last of the shrines, and connecting there. All of a sudden, the veil was lifted from my eyes, and the truth of the final fragment was revealed to me!

    "It speaks…," I strained to speak as the energies – the knowledge - flowed through me, "It speaks of one who shall…'break the cycle of the gods'…"

    And just like that, the comprehension ended.

    "Most ominous. If-," Karass was cut off by the sound of nearby explosions and zerg screeches, our combined force turning as one.

    There, on a rocky ridge which was already becoming enveloped by creep, came Kerrigan. She was wounded, powerfully so. One of her wings was torn off once more, the other crushed and crumpled. She stalked forward even with a massive gaping wound in her side, the chitin and flesh melding and regenerating around her legs. But the light in her eyes was entirely undimmed, and in one of her hands she clutched the terran by the face, dragging them kicking and struggling along with her. Kerrigan huffed as she beheld us, her eyes narrowed.

    "You might…," she paused and grunted as her wings straightened back out, the other regrowing once more. "Peel away the prophecy's layers, Zeratul – but you cannot outrun the doom that awaits us all! Not you," she sneered down at the terran and began squeezing tighter, "And not you," she hissed down at them.

    "That's a matter of opinion!" The terran shouted before curling into a ball and letting loose with a prodigious amount of psychic force.

    Kerrigan's eyes widened even as her arm began to shatter, forced to let go as she was thrown away along with a number of other zerg. The terran, on the other hand, leapt forwards, towards us, landing in a crumpled roll before rising to her feet. If slightly wobbly, at least. She was muttering in a terran language I did not know, but I could taste the anger and frustration in the air, it practically boiled off of her. For a moment, at least, before Kerrigan's scream of fury reached us all, and the terran lifted her head.

    "Okay. So, guess I was wrong, and Mann was right. She is damn near the most powerful psychic ever. At least my armor held up," the terran spat bitterly. "But you, Zeratul, need to get out of here."

    "Hold," Karass floated forwards, holding an arm out between us. "Identify yourself, terran, and-,"

    "We don't have time," she hissed, the formerly smooth and featureless pane of her helmet ravaged. "That wasn't enough to put her down, not by a long shot. You, all of you, need to get out of here. We've already destroyed the other shrines, we won't let her get the rest of the prophecy."

    My shock was…considerable. As was that of Karass, if I judged the emanations of his mind right. But even now we could hear the sound of hundreds, thousands of zerg on the way. The very earth was shaking with the force of their coming. And throughout it all, the star-like burning presence of Kerrigan, her fury extravagant and extensive in its breadth.

    "Get the hell out of here, protoss!" The terran shouted.

    Many dropships flew forth from out of my sight, deploying a significant MannCo force directly between us and where the zerg were coming from. There were even a number of terran aircraft present as well. Blasting their way forward from nearby, the exit from the shrine was briefly filled with terran troops that also arrayed themselves in defensive posture.

    "Zeratul, I-," Karass began, his intent clear even before his words.

    "That means you too, Templar," the terran called over her shoulder while other MannCo marines brought her another rifle similar to the one I had seen her wielding earlier. "Today, MannCo is making the sacrifice play."

    "But…why?!" I could not help but ask in frustration. "Why are you-,"

    "You little worm!" Kerrigan's thunderous voice drowned out all else, voices both telepathic and audible.

    The terran simply half-turned to me and gently pushed me towards the exit. All of us, in fact, zealots, templars, and stalkers alike.

    "Get out of here," she said simply.

    On the ridge came Kerrigan once again, the very air shuddering and breaking with her fury. Zerglings without counting came leaping down, while dozens of hydralisks slithered amongst them. Stomping forth were far too many ultralisks, mutalisks and overseers sweeping forward through the air.

    "We've got a few troops left, making sure your ship is okay," the terran said over their shoulder. "So please, get the hell out of here?"

    My burdens weigh heavily on me, but leaving the terrans to die was one I had not expected to have to suffer. Yet it is one I shall, for the prophecy was fully within me, yet I could not yet begin to fully decipher them on my own. I knew it, and Karass did as well. We could not allow Kerrigan to gain access to the prophecy, and the terrans had already done their best to deal with it. The signs of their sacrifice drenched the corridors back to the Void Seeker, whole swathes of them lay dead where they had fallen against the zerg. But the path was clear, for all that it was carpeted by the dead. Two terrans remained alive, pilots of the vehicles known as goliaths, and no sooner had we arrived than they moved back the way we had come, to the audible battle still ongoing.

    "Prelate, allow us to accompany you on your mission," Karass announced as his warp prisms arrived to take his troops to safety on his ships. "This prophecy is too important to be left untouched."

    "I am grateful for your aid, High Templar," I bowed my head to him. "I know of some who might interpret the fragments: the Preservers of Zhakul."

    "They are wise and learned indeed," Karass nodded his head. "Then we must be swift."

    I boarded the Void Seeker, and was joined in orbit by Karass' carrier, our two ships swiftly seeking to escape not just the planet but the entire system. The carrier had already come under attack thrice, and it was only the terran ships which were combatting the Swarm that had preserved it. I had come to Ulaan to find it a tomb, and now it was swiftly becoming such again. When we exited the system, I could only feel regret at the sight of multiple massive explosions rippling across the planet…

    ========================================================================
    ​
    "And that's all we saw," Jimmy finished, still rubbing at his temple with one hand, the other squarely clutched around a bottle of beer.

    Matt, Swann, Hanson, Stetmann, and Tychus all stared back at him from across the cantina table. They had found him and Liberty collapsed on the ground, apparently having gone missing for a couple of hours while staring into the damn crystal. It was only now that he and the reporter had been allowed out of the sick ward, both men immediately heading to get a drink. The questions had started the moment they'd woken up in said sick ward, but Jimmy had deferred until he had at least some alcohol in his belly to try and burn away the cold terror that the strange memories had left him with. Tychus seemed the most wigged out of all of them, a nervous sweat trickling down the side of his face as they'd explained what they had seen.

    "It's so strange," Liberty said, reaching out with one hand and clenching it. "I keep thinking that I can…I mean…," he scoffed, "I remember being Zeratul. Those were his memories. I didn't understand it all, I don't think a human brain could, but still…," he waved his fist around back and forth, and it took a second before Jimmy recognized it as the way that Zeratul might have used his psi-blade.

    "Yeah, I know what you mean," Jimmy groused as he drank the rest of his beer.

    "So…what, exactly, does this mean?" Matt asked, his expression grim.

    "End of the universe stuff, it sounds like," Swann shrugged, sitting back in his chair. "Seriously weird juju, boss."

    "The capacity for mental impression capture and communication transfer is astonishing!" Stetmann piped up, practically vibrating in his seat. "I mean, the implications – the possibilities! I – I just…wow!"

    "That's one way of describing it," Doc murmured. "Jim, are you sure you're all right? To have gone through what Zeratul did, I'm…I'm not even sure what I should look for to tell if you are or aren't," she said softly.

    "I am not all right," Liberty pointed out. "I'm a reporter. I don't do the fighting thing, not like that. I fight with words, not…not psi-blades and 'Void prisons' and what have you."

    "I don't think you should be messing with that thang at all, Jimmy," Tychus shook his head vigorously, "How do you know that you won't just wake up one day all blue and without a mouth if you keep poking at it?" He paused at the look the three scientific types were giving him. "What? If it's putting them protoss memories into him, how do we know it ain't doin' other stuff?"

    "Tychus," Doc placed a hand against his armor, "That's not how Ihan crystals work. They're rare, certainly, but they are documented."

    "I'm just saying," Jimmy's old friend continued, "I've seen movies about this sorta thang, you go in for some memory stuff, next thing you know turns out you're a replicant! Or…hold on," he paused and screwed up his face in thought. "No, that's a different one. But still!" He insisted.

    The conversation rapidly turned to movies at that point, at least for a little bit.

    "Jim," Matt spoke up, his quiet voice nonetheless cutting through everyone else. "Are you thinking of going back in? To the crystal's memories, I mean."

    Jimmy frowned and rubbed at his jaw.

    "I…think I might have to, Matt. Zeratul was desperate for me to look at that stuff. Plus…," he trailed off as Yuriko Thirteen walked into the cantina.

    Yuriko Thirteen with a very, very recognizable rifle on her back.

    "I think those memories might have more than just some answers for Zeratul in them," he murmured.

    The MannCo operative paused as the door to the cantina opened back up, a bottle of beer in her hands. She turned her head, just slightly, looking directly at him before winking and then stepping through.
     
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    • 107 - Sinister Turns, Shadowy Twists
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    • 107 - Sinister Turns, Shadowy Twists​

    When Jimmy found Yuriko next, his head still pounding a little from his journey through Zeratul's memories, it was rather surprisingly right back in the labs. He'd made the circuit all the way through the cantina and then the armory looking for her before scuttlebutt let him know her path. She was, after all, rather hard to miss. She was, in fact, standing right next to the two specimen tubes that Stetmann was currently doing his protoss and zerg research on, talking to the squirrely young man himself. Unlike the usual manic energy, however, Jimmy was surprised to see him looking surprisingly somber, though the reason behind that became apparent as he heard the words coming out of the scientist's mouth.

    "Honestly, even if I somehow got out of their hands I'm not sure if I'd have wanted to," Egon sighed, rubbing at the back of his head. "Living in the trash heaps of Deadman's Rock was…really hard. I'm grateful for the Commander and the Captain."

    "I see. I never knew," Yuriko said sympathetically, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think it's amazing that you dared to not just make that stance against the cybernetic's project, but actively worked against it. In Mengsk's Dominion of all places!"

    Stetmann blushed, stammering slightly, perhaps from her touch or her words or both.

    "Y-yeah well, heh, I mean, ahem – Commander!" He squawked as he finally saw Jimmy standing in the doorway.

    Yuriko, no doubt, had sensed his mind coming from a good ways away, she was just doing him the courtesy of not turning all creepy like despite him coming in pretty quietly.

    "Hey Stetmann. You doing all right?" Jimmy greeted as he entered, glancing aside at the two tubes.

    Or rather the bulbous green eye that was wriggling about in the zerg tube. It wasn't looking at him, or anything else, but seemed pretty singularly locked onto Yuriko. The psychic commando didn't seem to either notice or at least care very much. The damn thing was so creepy, but according to Stetmann's logs it was trying to play dead or something whenever the scientist came by. Not so, apparently, when Yuriko was present, the stubby tendrils of the zerg mass subtly drifting in her direction against the glass. Nothing too violent, almost as if it knew that Raynor would have the thing burned and spaced if it started acting out too much, but damn if it didn't weird him out.

    "I'm doing great, sir! We've been completing so many projects in the extra downtime, especially helped by the samples that MannCo was donating to us," Stetmann beamed, distracted from his trauma rather easily as he began babbling at rapid pace.

    Most of it, as per usual, went over Jimmy's head, but there was something in the middle there that pulled him up short.

    "Woah, wait, what's this about zerg mind control?"

    Stetmann paused, his eyes darting about as his mind had to slow it's roll and turn around. Thankfully Yuriko was right there to pick up the slack.

    "Two different devices, theoretical but ready to begin test-building phases, based on Stetmann's inspirational zerg research," she said with a small smile. "The first is built upon delving into the zerg's dna, all the way back to the Overmind itself. Theoretically, of course," she waggled her head from side to side.

    "Right," Jimmy drawled before looking back at Stetmann, old memories of the damned UED echoing through his mind. "And do we want to do that, crack open that box again?"

    "Well, maybe, maybe not," Stetmann winced. "I mean, it's not, like, a mechanical Overmind replacement, although maybe-,"

    "What he means to say is that it is a bit more limited in application," Yuriko intervened smoothly. "Only one at a time, for instance, each being relatively taxing energy-wise. And it likely won't even work a little on someone like Kerrigan, or the Queens or what have you. But, say, an ultralisk? Perhaps."

    Jimmy rubbed at his temples with one hand while the other pulled his flask out for a sip of whiskey.

    "And the other thing?" He groaned.

    "Also something vaguely UED like, but I think you'd like it more," Yuriko chuckled, ignoring Jimmy's dark glare. "It's a psi disruptor. Concentrated releases of sigma radiation, slows down zerg of all kinds to a major extent."

    "Uh, for the record," Stetmann jumped back in, "The UED psi-disruptors were pretty massive, and we don't have the manufacturing or carrying capacity for planting those around the place. Mine," he emphasized heavily, "Are much more efficient in size and application."

    Jimmy frowned as he thought. While he didn't really like going in the direction of mind controlling zerg, a couple of psi-disruptors could be pretty damn valuable when it came down to it if they ended up going up against the zerg again.

    "And how are you doing these, again?" He eventually asked.

    "Ah, well, normally, I'd only really have time to test and refine one or the other, but we uh," Stetmann chuckled as he looked towards Yuriko with something a little bit beyond normal thankfulness, "MannCo is helping a lot with testing and providing varied samples for my studies. But Swann also helped me out making both of them work," he admitted shyly.

    Yuriko smiled gently at the man before looking back at Jimmy.

    "MannCo did some testing on active battlefields against the zerg out in the Fringe Worlds and Outer Colonies of the Dominion," she confided, "Based on the reports I've been getting, both are working quite well. I'd recommend having a few built for deployment from the Hyperion just in case."

    "That…ain't the worst idea. Stetmann, can you bring the designs down to Swann, see if you can do that?" Jimmy looked at the younger man.

    "Wh-oh, I mean, sure?" Stetmann looked at him quizzically. "I mean, like-,"

    "Like now," Jimmy said firmly, looking back at Yuriko.

    Stetmann glanced back and forth between the two.

    "Uh…right. Bye?" He said quietly before scurrying off.

    Which left Jimmy and the psychic alone in the lab, the Ihan crystal sitting on its little pedestal a little way away. Yuriko quirked an eyebrow and leaned back against the protoss tank. The crystals had grown reach the top and the bottom of the tube, by this point, and they sparked and glowed a little from where they touched the glass where Yuriko was leaning. The small little ball of energy or whatever it was in the center of the tube expanded in size by about half, but otherwise remained stable. The zerg specimen's eye swiveled also, slowly but surely, making sure that Yuriko was entirely within it's field of vision.

    "So," Jimmy said after a moment. "You and Kerrigan."

    "Me and her," Yuriko nodded, her lip twisting as she said it, almost wistful sounding.

    Jimmy snorted.

    "When you said she didn't care for you, didn't know it meant you two really went at it like I saw," he murmured, caught up for a moment in reliving the sights and sounds from Zeratul.

    Of shredded rock and metal, of explosions of pure psionic power and collapsing caverns.

    "Well she's sort of in the 'all humans are garbage anyway' mindset right now," Yuriko shrugged, "But yes, we directly clashed. As I'm sure you saw, I didn't win."

    "Still survived a hell of a lot more of her personal attentions than anyone else I ever saw," Jimmy couldn't help but note with grudging respect. "And what the hell was all that armor? It doesn't even look like what you wear right now."

    The psychic tilted her head to the side.

    "I have different sets of equipment as the situation demands," she answered noncommittally. "We knew it was likely she'd be there, so I prepared for that. Even then," she scowled, "It wasn't enough. You know I'm pretty damn strong for a psychic, but hell, she's something else entirely."

    "Yeah," Jimmy grunted as he popped another cigarette from his pack and grasped it between his teeth. "Yeah, she is. Still…you said you lost the whole expedition force on that world, right? But you made it out."

    "That is correct," Yuriko chuckled as she looked down. "Which, of course, pissed off Kerrigan more. So be honest, Raynor, what do you want me to say, here?"

    Jimmy paused as he lit the cigarette, puffing out some smoke to the side. His mind churned.

    "Hell, I don't know, Yuriko. You're telling me you just lost a whole lotta boys, there, and it barely seems to phase you."

    Again, again, it seemed to come back around to that. Back when he was a younger man, perhaps stupider also, he'd known one of the most powerful ghosts around. She could be cheerful, coy, and deadly cold when she needed to be. Just like Yuriko herself, in some respects. But of course, the comparison collapsed a bit in moments like this. Before Kerrigan had become the Queen of Blades, she had never been as cold as Yuriko could be at times. The woman had just admitted to losing an entire force which, judging from the memories of Zeratul, might well have outnumbered the Raiders a few times over. And then there was what had happened on Agria.

    "What do you want me to say, Raynor?" Yuriko asked, tilting her head in the other direction, her arms crossing over her chest. "Do you want me off the ship, or something?"

    "Ain't saying that," he waved a hand through the air. "Just…,"

    "Our methods and mentality confuse and frighten you sometimes," Yuriko suggested. "But MannCo isn't the Raiders, Jim. We aren't the Dominion either, of course," she tacked on at the end with a single-shouldered shrug.

    There wasn't really a satisfying end to the conversation, just a slightly uncomfortable silence. Raynor's heart and mind were all tangled up again. He was outraged about the sorts of thing he'd seen, the treatment of their own men. He, and the entire revolution, were doing leagues better than they had been even a handful of months ago. The upgrades to the ship, to his troops, the funds, the supplies. What was going on, right now, on Meinhoff, a humanitarian mission at a magnitude of a minor stellar nation. And even as he thought of all of this, he knew Yuriko saw it as well.

    "I guess. Should I expect to see more of you in there?" He jerked a thumb at the Ihan crystal.

    Yuriko raised her eyebrows and shrugged once more.

    "Why don't you go look inside and find out?"

    Then her cloak activated, and she disappeared from sight, leaving Jimmy to sigh once more before looking over the crystal.

    "Yeah, maybe in a bit."

    ================================================================
    ​
    Maybe in a bit turned out to be another hour before he'd gotten enough whiskey in him to want to look again. This time, he was accompanied once more by one intrepid Michael Liberty. The vagabond reporter looked queasy even at the prospect, but he'd come down to the lab regardless the moment Jimmy had told him what he was planning on doing. Though Liberty, too, had required a good amount of liquid courage to do so. Both men were swaying more than a little as they arrived in the lab.

    "You don't have to do this, man. Zeratul left the crystal to me," Jimmy told him, leaning against the railings surrounding the floating artifact pieces.

    Liberty shook his head and grit his teeth, huffing helplessly.

    "I already saw the first part. I gotta know the rest," he admitted. "I wish I didn't want to know. I really, really do."

    Some people might have been happy to disregard the man, but Jimmy remembered rushing across creep alongside him and a bunch of other Confederate forces to rescue that damned Edmund Duke. All while under major zerg assault on a damn near constant basis. When Michael Liberty got onto a story, he was a bloodhound that would not let go until he'd squeezed near everything out of it.

    "Hell, all right. Let's go," Jimmy grunted and both mean leaned forwards to the crystal which lit up as their heads came a bit closer.

    It began to glow a bit brighter, but only in their minds, not their eyes.

    "So, how long is this normally hrugh!" Liberty choked out as the psionic energy of the crystal flashed out once more.

    And then Jimmy was falling, falling, falling through the shadows and the Void and feeling the aching loneliness of a true Dark Templar. The grief and rage over Aiur, over Raszagal. Weariness, crushing weariness. Waves of self-loathing for being the reason for Aiur's fall, even while slaying a cerebrate. He felt his fingers and toes twitch and flex, his eyes burning with sight beyond sight, his mind churning as the fragments of the prophecy flowed through it. The confusion of seeing MannCo for the very first time, the shock of seeing a terran psychic manage to stand up to the Queen of Blades, even if the effort was doomed from the start.

    And then Jimmy was gone, Michael Liberty disappearing from right next to him as well. Then the words came, psionically imprinted onto the Ihan crystal along with echoes of pain and desperation.

    His own words. James Raynor needed to hear them, to understand! And so the memories flowed. Of watching as terran battlecruisers were shot apart by mutalisks and scourge swarms. Of a planet slowly covering itself in nuclear fire, while he flee Void Seeker free of the system entirely. But now it was accompanied by a carrier, the personal craft of his newest brave ally which also carried said ally's force. It was pitted and scarred by acid, attacks from the zerg damaging it heavily before the terrans drew the zerg's ire from them, but it held strong and true yet.

    Where once I had journeyed alone, now High Templar Karass and his force accompanied me as we fled the battle between Kerrigan and the terrans of MannCo. While the terrans fought bravely, and their leader seemed mighty for their kind, they would be overwhelmed before too long. Even so, we journeyed on, making our way to the forbidden archive world of Zhakul. There, three immortal Preservers safeguarded ancient knowledge, and it was they who I knew would be among the only who could transcribe the fragments of the prophecy left within my mind by the shrines. And yet, it would not be nearly so easy. Something awaited me in the shadows…

    =====================================================================
    ​
    I slumped in the seat of the Void Seeker, my wounds from the fighting on Ulaan still healing. Kerrigan had once more faced me, and once more had crushed me in battle. Quite literally, this time. But as I glanced about the tactical readouts of the ship, and glanced beyond the ship through the Void Seeker's systems, I beheld my ally with a mixture of relief and guilt. One the one hand, his carrier had survived the battle of Ulaan, despite taking significant damage from mutalisks and scourges. Much of his force had successfully evacuated into the ship. But at the same time, the carrier, his force, and I too had been preserved from potentially certain death by the sacrifices of the terrans. Though their minds were near silent compared psionic essences of protoss, they had died in vast numbers to safeguard our passage through their war-making. By the reckoning of Karass, his flagship had nearly been destroyed before terran battlecruisers swept the sky clean for a brief enough moment to escape. His escort of phoenixes were all gone as well, but thankfully he retained yet some interceptors.

    A flashing light alerted me to an incoming communication request, one I accepted with a wave of my hand.

    "Dark Prelate Zeratul, we are nearly to Zhakul. My forces are readied."

    Ah. My burdens truly weighed heavily on me; I had been lost in my meditations for too long as we'd traveled. I straightened in my seat and adjusted my gauntlet. My mind and body would need to be honed and ready for whatever might come.

    "Very well, Karass. Let us make our landing. Hopefully, the Preservers will be able to aid us with the prophecy."

    And yet, even as we slipped through the atmosphere, I could tell something was wrong. I was not alone in my confusion, as Karass's expression tightened across the communicator screen.

    "This world…the Templar are…quiet. No. I cannot sense them at all!" The High Templar said with alarm, something which I now shared. "The Preservers should be protected by a powerful and dedicated force!"

    My sense of foreboding grew even as we reached the outskirts of the temple complexes. A small protoss base lay below us, but it was disturbingly silent. The buildings were dark, unpowered, still as graves.

    "Something is terribly wrong here, Karass. We must investigate," I announced as I set the Void Seeker down to land.

    "I agree. I shall begin deploying my warp prisms and probes immediately and will join you on the ground."

    There was something terribly wrong, I felt sure, as I met Karass at the base of a reactivated gateway. It unfurled as a pylon was warped in, and the warp singularity formed swiftly.

    "Are there any within?" I asked, a bit of hope kindling in my breast, only for it to be dashed by the templar's shaking head as a probe warbled up at him.

    "None. It is as if everyone meant to be staffing this base simply…walked away," Karass said uncertainly. "The structures are untouched, the photon cannons now fully functional," he gestured some distance away where one such defensive device once more brimmed with power. "What has happened to this sacred place?"

    "I do not know," I answered honestly, "The Void Seeker noted other structures throughout these grounds that are similarly unpowered, and yet-,"

    "Hold!" Karass called out, whirling, his robes fluttering with his psionic might as he rose higher in the air. "Identify yourself!"

    I saw the subject of his caution immediately, one of my stalker brethren slowly advancing up the ramp to our small plateau. Again, I felt hope. And again, it was dashed to pieces within my chest.

    "You seek the Preservers," the stalker stated as it clicked closer on its legs, the head twisting this way and that. "Do you not?"

    "We do," Karass answered, his eyes narrowed. "And yet, I cannot feel their spirits, their very presence within the Khala is obscured from me. If you are amongst their guardians, what say you of this?"

    The essence of my brother within the stalker frame felt…wrong. I knew it as it looked into his maddened eyes. There was a cloying darkness there. One that rankled me, set my instincts aflame.

    "They serve a higher power now, fool," the stalker spat out, and my heart sank at his words, even as I leapt out of the way of his particle accelerator's fire towards me, cloaking myself in shadow to hide myself from him. "As shall we all!"

    I have done and fought many things throughout my life. But I can say, with certainty, that almost nothing struck at my spirit more than being forced to slay my fellow protoss, regardless of whether they were of the Khala or not. And yet the stalker would not be dissuaded, even as the proton cannon activated, even as Karass summoned forth his own power and let loose with psionic bolts. A single stalker could not possibly have stood before the two of us, let alone against a fully shielded proton cannon, and so within seconds our corrupted brother had been torn to pieces. Karass and I stood above it, grief and confusion welling in us both.

    "What could have corrupted these guardians so, Karass? What do you sense of them within the Khala?" I turned and asked, the golden psionic energy of Karass flickering dimly as he thought.

    "At first, I thought them entirely silent, but now, having been so close, and seeing…," Karass murmured, "They are gone from the Khala, yet move as echoes within it. Choked, suffocated, by another presence which has forced itself upon them. I cannot see those of Shakuras through the Khala, yet they too have been dominated."

    "Dominated?" I echoed in horror, "But what could do so strongly, to so many…are all the guardians of Zhakul lost then?"

    Karass was silent for a moment before he turned to regard me.

    "I cannot say. I have witnessed the terrible power of the Dark Archons, Zeratul," he said sadly, "And yet this seems even beyond their manner and method, somehow. We must be prepared for the possibility that we may have to purge the whole of the guardians of Zhakul to reach the Preservers."

    "God's help us, that they may be left uncorrupted," I muttered as we both set to the task of preparing out forces.

    We would receive the answer all too soon as the rest of Karass' force deployed itself, zealots and immortals warping down from his carrier. We had just begun to make plans to scout out the abandoned structures we had detected on our scans when a force unlike any I had ever experienced before assaulted our minds. It was a searing screech of power and pain, of sheer alien hate, that not even Kerrigan had ever shown. A thought I had not dared to imagine before that very moment. It showed us, all of us, itself, the very being dominating our thoughts so completely in that brief instant that we could see it, in all its horrible glory.

    INTRUDERSSS…

    "Argh!" Karass cried as he collapsed to the ground, his levitation disappearing for a moment. "What…is this?!"

    "A hybrid," I breathed as I saw it unabashedly broadcasting its power and strength and corrupted essence in my mind's eye. "A zerg-protoss hybrid!"

    "An abomination," Karass growled, slamming a fist against the ground before rising up from it once more. "We must-,"

    Alarms blared out, but not those of the base we had reclaimed. Rather, they were broadcast from our ships. Karass whirled through the air, looking up towards the sky. I could feel the whispers of his ship's crew, informing their leader of what the carrier's sensors had detected. Flying, or perhaps falling, was a burning terran dropship that jerkily made its way down through the atmosphere. A moment's thought proved that it had the emblem of MannCo emblazoned on its side, though the dropship had clearly sustained significant damage from zerg attacks. I directed the Void Seeker's own sensor suite towards the ship, only to be stopped in shock as it headed directly for the inner temple grounds. But before we could even begin to speak once more, the presence of the hybrid weighed down on us all once more.

    COME, MY SLAVESSS….IT IS TIME TO GIVE ME YOUR STRENGTH!

    "It is…draining the Preservers!" Karass said, outraged. "No!"

    "We must save them," I declared, even as I felt the hybrid's painful blight on the universe begin to move towards us. "We must – the terran ship!"

    We could only watch in confusion as it seemed to accelerate, faster and faster, towards none other than the hybrid itself. My eyes widened as I felt, for the briefest of moments, a familiar psionic presence cutting through the overwhelming pressure of the hybrid's.

    THIS KNOWLEDGE…IS - HRAAAAAGH!!!

    And the terran dropship struck like a metal fist from the stars at high speed. The hybrid let out a pained screech that billowed across the battlefield before its choking presence disappeared from our minds. What I recognized as nothing less than a terran-derived nuclear explosion rippled up from the crash site, the mushroom cloud rising high into the air before dissipating. But I focused not upon that, but on the steadily approaching presence. Within moments, she revealed herself, not merely psychically, but physically as well. She was astride some sort of strange terran contraption, similar to a vulture as I know the terrans to call them. As she cut its engines, the terran psychic that had battled the Queen of Blades on Ulaan slowed to a stop before us. She doffed her concealing helm and peeled her lips back at us to reveal her teeth, something I knew well to be something known as a 'smile' thanks to James Raynor.

    "Hi there," she called out, her immense psychic presence weary but unbowed. "Didn't get a chance to actually introduce myself last time," she waved with one arm and then gestured to herself with a thumb. "Yuriko Thirteen, MannCo psychic commando. Apologies for being brusque back on Ulaan."

    I was wary of this Yuriko, I must admit. She may have been powerful, but the Queen of Blades had defeated her all the same. And then there was the strangeness of the MannCo warriors.

    "What are your intentions towards Zeratul," Karass added, his arms held at the ready, psychic light glowing in his palms.

    "Peace, Karass," I raised my arm between them. "I appreciated your help on Ulaan, terran Yuriko, but what of the Queen of Blades? Is she coming here as well?"

    She shook her head, long hair waving with the motion.

    "No, she's scouring the planet for the shards left behind of the shrines. She didn't even notice that I'd escaped. The rest of the force stayed behind to keep playing distraction."

    "Then…you are alone?" Karass' head jerked back.

    "I'm never alone," she smiled, and what little I could see of her mind swirled with something smug, "But the expeditionary force is gone, yes. Not really important at the moment, what's more important is that the hybrid isn't dead."

    Of course, no sooner had she spoken than her words were proven true, for we felt the terrible pressure of the hybrid's presence explode to life in our minds once more. Even Yuriko winced, craning her head around to glance back at where she had deliberately crashed her ship. This time, where before there had been arrogance and hatred on a massive scale, it had grown somehow even more furious. Now they all felt the direct focus of the hybrid, especially upon Yuriko, even from such a great distance away.

    INTERLOPER! I SHALL STRIP THE FLESH FROM YOUR BONES AND DEVOUR YOUR MIND!!!

    "The Preservers!" Karass cried, "We must save them before the hybrid drains them of all life!"

    "Sounds like we don't really have time to sit around and play twenty questions, huh," Yuriko smiled at me, "Looks like we need to get moving. You might not trust my motivations, but my intention today is to help you figure out the prophecy, yeah?"

    "Slay them in the name of the master!" A cry came from the ramp, and many protoss bearing the sigils of the guardians of Zhakul assaulted us once more.

    "Forward, my brothers!" Karass cried as he rose into the air once more, the warriors of the Daelaam charging to the fore.

    I am ashamed to know that I spilled the blood of my brothers in the course of the defense, and I felt Karass' anguish as well from act as well. It was the terran that surprised us, however. When the dragoons and stalkers had fallen to pieces, the remaining zealots not already killed were spared. From death at least. Rapidly, yet carefully, she psychically shattered the bodies of the corrupted zealots, leaving them alive but unconscious upon the ground. These that were 'spared' from their end were subsequently lifted up and then placed to the side. Yuriko turned to look at us staring at her and shrugged.

    "No reason to kill any more protoss than I need to, right? Hopefully when we kill the hybrid, they'll come back to themselves," she said before sighing, "Hopefully."

    "…she is right," Karass said after a moment. "Brothers, take them and bind them, if the Gods smile upon us, we may not need to slay them.

    "Right," Yuriko smiled again, though I am relatively sure it was a grim one, confusing terran physiology aside. "But we really need to get moving. Any more time we waste, the more lives we may not be able to save here."

    It was that which sealed out fate in battling together. There was no time for an interrogation. Instead, we went to battle immediately. Unfortunately, the guardians would prove just as able in the defense of the hybrid as they would have been in the name of the Preservers. While we were, on occasion, able to subdue some of our fallen brothers, in other cases, we simply were not so lucky. Even when we located other forces that had managed to stay free of the hybrid's mind control, as well as some of my fellow Dark Templar, we were forced to slay a number of the guardians. Wretchedly, it seemed the time of strife had come to the protoss once more, in microcosm. Thankfully, through the aid of the free guardians, even the comparatively weaker force of Karass was able to push our way through the temple grounds.

    At least until the hybrid emerged once more.

    "Right, here we go," Yuriko warned as the hybrid closed on us, flanked by yet more of our lost brethren.

    The creature's shields were strong, it is true, and I felt my psi-blade skitter across its hard carapace more than once, but nevertheless I could still find purchase as it exchanged psychic blasts with Yuriko and Karass. I sank my blade deep into its eyes at one point, having leapt atop it, yet wished I had not. For all that it should have been a fatal blow, its remaining eye simply swiveled in the socket to glare at me as its body erupted, an explosion of psionic energy bursting forth that flung me away. To feel a death scream at such close range, it was blinding, deafening, suffusing every sense I possessed past the limit. In truth, I could not be certain, for that brief few moments, whether it was I who had been struck down instead. All the while, around us, the guardians of Zhakul fought against us, and us against them.

    "Up we go, Dark Prelate," Yuriko said softly to me, purely with her thoughts, the feel of them oddly sharp and almost mechanically angled, while helping me stand as Karass pushed the attack. "We need to keep pushing into their base. The hybrid will reform itself again and again unless we free the Preservers from its thrall."

    "How certain are you of this?" I asked of her, my eyes narrowing as she unfurled her enormous rifle and began firing it, each one destroying a corrupted immortal or stalker entirely.

    "Mostly," she shrugged again. "Now come on, before he – ah, damn it," she spat as a wave of hatred burst across the grounds once more, the now familiar fury of the hybrid once more burning like a dark star in the forefront of my psychic senses.

    I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL!

    The hybrid's screech was deafening to the physical and the mental realms, but still we pressed on. The Dark Templar amongst our force girded themselves as I needed to, sheltering ourselves through battlefield meditation. As for the Templar, either because each of them was as strong as they needed to be, or if they were buoyed by the Khala, I cannot say. In the end, it hardly mattered. The grim butchery was to be done regardless as we killed our way through the guardians and finally reached the sacred archival shrine of the Preservers themselves. There, we beheld them trapped in strange crystalline sarcophagi, their psionic essences visibly being drained into the steadily reforming hybrid in the center. Only half of the creature had returned to the physical realm, enough for it to focus upon me and snarl in rage once more.

    "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Yuriko cried simultaneously before letting loose with her rifle, shattering the chambers of the Preservers with one shot each.

    "NO!" The hybrid cried aloud as the sources of its power cut themselves off of it, even as they struggled to stand.

    "Come back from this, baka," the terran snarled next before clicking something on the rifle.

    Whatever weapon she fired next was, the hybrid could not withstand it, strange yellow bursts which seemed to feed from them peppering it across its body. Even the abominations accursedly strong flesh was rent apart from the weapon's fire and was further still torn apart as our combined force assaulted it. There were no more guardians of Zhakul to stand against us, alive or otherwise, and so the hybrid swiftly fell once more, never to rise again. Or so I dearly hoped.

    ====================================================================
    ​
    The fortitude of the Preservers was truly befitting their station. Less than an hour after the battle's conclusion, and they had already deigned to speak with Karass and I, needing only that much time to remove the poisonous influence of the slain hybrid from the remainder of their guardians. That we had at the least saved more than I had initially feared to hope might be returned to the fold was especially heartening. Thankfully, once they had been returned to their senses, the guardians of this place were understanding of the combat that had taken place, far more concerned with how they had so swiftly been subverted and overtaken by the sheer strength of the hybrid. Not merely the zealots and the pilots interred in their machines, but even some of the High Templar stationed to the place. Such a powerful capability for domination was frightening, reminding me uncomfortably of Raszagal and Kerrigan.

    "Great Preservers, we humbly come before you to ask for your aid," I bowed on one knee, an act mirrored by Karass who stood alongside me.

    "I am ashamed, great ones, that we could not save and free more of your guardians," the High Templar added, voice tight with contrition.

    "Not even we could have foreseen the arrival of the hybrid, of its sheer strength," the trio of immortals answered in unison. "Without your arrival, the abomination would have drained us of all life and knowledge. Such a thing could not be allowed," all three stepped back and gestured to the wrecked ruins of the temple's grounds. "Such being the price is…acceptable. Now then…," their eyes glowed bright with power as they leaned back towards me. "We see the fragments of the prophecy that have been thrust within your mind, Zeratul."

    They raised their hands, and I fell fully to my knees and let my mind be bared to them utterly.

    "We shall marshal what strength remains to us to aid you."

    I had never tasted the Khala, and I never shall, this I know is my fate as one of the Dark Templar. Of the Nerazim. Yet with three Preservers linking their minds with my own, I could not help but wonder if I was receiving the barest echo of that mystical link which my kind had denied so long ago. They looked into me, and I, into them, and between us sought the sublime truths that could only be seen in the middle. Finally, the fragments which had remained scattered and indistinct within me came into sharp relief, and I knew them intimately and fully simultaneously as the Preservers channeled them outwards to Karass and those others who had been nearby enough to partake in the psionic communication.

    Together, we beheld the universe itself.

    "The Cycle shall draw to its end. The Xel'Naga who forged the stars shall transcend their creation. Yet the Fallen One shall remain…destined to cover the Void in shadow."

    All could feel a tremble through their bodies as the vision continued to pass through us all, of a universe swallowed utterly, of all light extinguished.

    "It begins with the Great Hungerer. It ends…in utter darkness."

    Only then did they break the link. And as they did so, a great unease came upon me, one that was shared by several others nearby. An awful suspicion came upon me, and yet I could not help but speak it aloud.

    "A Great Hungerer. Might it refer to the Overmind?"

    A look was shared amongst the Templar who followed Karass, the High Templar shaking his head even as he emanated grief and resignation.

    "I wish it were not so, Zeratul, and yet I cannot deny that it seems likely," Karass murmured. "Additionally, however," his mind flared with power, his robes whipping about as he turned to look at Yuriko. "You seem neither shocked, nor surprised, in the slightest, terran, at the revelations that have just been granted to us."

    I turned, as did all the others including even the Preservers, as the terran psychic leaned against a wall, her arms crossed across her chest and head tilted slightly to the side. Even as Karass had spoken, a firm wall had risen in her mind, blocking her off from casual mind-sight. Not, however, before there was something of bemusement broadcast outwardly.

    "Is this true, Yuriko Thirteen?" I asked her cautiously. "How is it you know the prophecy before I, who gathered the fragments, or the Preservers who have just interpreted them?"

    Gently, the terran removed her concealing helm to reveal her face once more, quirking her lips in what was a ghost of a smile as I knew them to be.

    "Initially?" She tilted her head to the other side. "I didn't. I had to be informed by another. Just like you, Zeratul," she huffed in amusement. "Regardless, your realization is correct. You must go to your lost homeworld, protoss," she glanced amongst them all. "You need to go home to Aiur."

    "You say much, and little, terran," Karass narrowed his eyes at her, and at her closed mind. "How are we to trust you?"

    "Can you afford to?" She responded with a question of her own. "Can you afford not to? I have fought alongside your people twice now, tens of thousands of MannCo forces are gone to save you all on Ulaan, and I aided you now. You've seen my weapons, my psychic might," she tapped a finger against her temple. "If I wished to harm you, I merely needed to stay out of it on Ulaan, and here as well."

    Her words were not harsh.

    The truth of them, however, stung.

    "I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm asking you to let me help you," she shrugged once more. "If so, great. If not, I have a beacon, and I'll have to ask your remaining guardians to not shoot down the ship that is going to come retrieve me," she said the last towards the Preservers before looking back at me and Karass. "And even so, that won't necessarily prevent me from coming to Aiur anyway. MannCo has a vested interest in your continued survival, Zeratul, either way."

    Curious, and strange sentiments from a terran organization. Worrying, even, given I knew them not at all before recent events.

    "So what's it going to be?"

    ===============================================================================
    ​
    "Yeah, they're coming out of it now," Yuriko snorted as she watched the two muddled minds leave the lab.

    "How're they handling it?" Mann asked, his ridiculous tricorn hat tilted forward to shadow his eyes.

    It was, of course, all theater. It always was. The hologram projecting him showed him atop a stupidly luxurious couch of pure gold and red velvet cushions. Atop a pile of gold coins. Because despite everything, he enjoyed the trappings of a pretend-pirate lord. Despite the lack of actual piracy these days. He didn't need the couch, the cushions, or otherwise. Frankly it looked horribly uncomfortable. But here he was, image projected inside her quarters of Mann in a supposedly relaxed state. Despite the fact that his incomprehensibly advanced machine mind was running an ongoing series of proxy skirmishes and battles across the Fringe and Outer Colonies to help evacuations continue despite the zerg. Despite the fact that he was actually quite busy doing something else, in another body entirely. But the image of Mann looked as relaxed as could be, practically about to fall asleep.

    "Well they're confused, obviously," she sniffed as she poured a bit more sake into a cup to drink. "The sheer strength of Zeratul's mind and will are leaving heavy impressions on their own, and it's going to take them a few minutes to fully divide themselves from what he left behind properly again. How's Earth?"

    "Oh, you know, a horrible cyber-fascist state that would make Hitler, Stalin, and Pol Pot look like coma patients," Mann waved a hand. "Just uh, incredibly horrific here. It's fine for the top ten percent of people who live here, its damn near idyllic for that."

    "And for everyone else?" She sipped from her sake as she imagined the banners of the UED aflame.

    "Like I said, horrific. Total panopticon. Everyone is implanted at birth with security insurance things, bio-marker trackers, watches where you go, when you go there. Zero ethical practices in their sciences, they just scoop up whole swathes of the less-privileged as they like for their tests and experiments," Mann growled. "On the one hand," he said with faux-cheerfulness, "Such wonderful parks and massive nature conservation programs, and incredible medical advancements, all for the wealthy and able to enjoy. It just costs a lot of human lives to reach that point."

    Yuriko shook her head.

    "Any nation that relies upon something like Project Purification to 'fix' their people and societies is a monstrous one."

    "I agree," Mann said seriously, lifting his projected image's hat to reveal glowing blue eyes for a moment before letting the hologram's heat fall back down. "Plus, they use their ghosts just like how a lot of human societies with psychics tends to do so, one more tool in the oppression toolbox."

    "But of course!" Yuriko raised her cup high, "What better way to use such gifts that allow minds to reach out and touch one another, than to use them to scour through the minds of others, to tear out secrets and make for fear at the very concept of having the 'wrong' thoughts!"

    It was meant to come out mocking, but in actuality emerged as a snarl.

    "Yeah," Mann said softly after a moment, letting her pounding heart slow back down. "You know, you've really gotten onto the whole rights of psychics thing lately."

    Yuriko froze for a moment before lowering her cup and filling it with more sake.

    "We seem to be subjects of torture and mutilation across the multi-verse," she sighed. "Back in my…original home…it was just Yuriko and, I suppose, her sister." Her lips firmed. "Here though…it's so much worse, somehow. Whole families torn apart on the regular. Forced conscription of children. Mind-wipes and 'resocialization'. Everything that the people of Project Shadowblade suffered…," her free hand clenched into a fist, the lights of her room flickering as immense gravitational forces swirled for a brief moment.

    "…yeah. A lot of horrible things go on past the glitz and glam. Marine life expectancies on the battlefield. The long-term effects of combat stims, the usage of resoc to conscript, the sheer number of convicts that are in the Dominion military," Mann sighed. "Plus the regular old corporate capitalist nightmare of the Combine."

    "Mann?"

    "Mmm?"

    "Do you think we intervened in time to save them? The spectres?"

    Mann just sighed.

    "I hope so. We know that the terrazine is a direct line to the Void, which right now means danger. But if you take a hit just the once, are you always vulnerable? We just don't know. Regardless, every single one of the spectres has accepted cryo and chrono-locking if it seems like they about to, you know, lose it."

    Yuriko inhaled deeply through her nose and out of her mouth as she mulled over that. She was friends with many of the spectres now. They were her people like she'd never known was possible. Fellow psychics, experimental subjects, now freed by forces beyond them unexpectedly but thankfully.

    "I really, really don't want them to be taken over by anyone else. They deserve their freedom," she mumbled.

    "Well of course," Mann said seriously, before she could nearly feel the grin in his voice. "After all, as the great Optimus Prime says-,"

    "Oh god, no, not again!" She rolled her eyes, throwing a pillow at his holographic image, causing it to buzz slightly. "C'mon, you pull that cheesy line out every time we talk about-,"

    "FREEDOM IS THE RIGHT OF ALL SENTIENT BEINGS!"

    "UGH!"

    ======================================================================
    ​
    "And then the vision just…ended, then and there," Jimmy finished, looking between Matt and Doc Hanson.

    Between them literally, as Stetmann was sort of just vibrating in place just behind them.

    "Well, clearly Yuriko is still around, so regardless of how their discussion went, she lived through it," Matt pointed out.

    "I'm a little more concerned about you, Jim," Doc said as she laid a hand on top of his, soft and smooth skin against his scraggly scars and calluses. "I feel like you might be losing yourself in that crystal."

    "I have so many questions!" Stetmann finally burst, "A zerg-protoss hybrid?! Based on what?! How?! Every previous instance shows that the zerg can't infest the protoss, but this thing exists? I just-,"

    "Not so loud, Stetmann," Jimmy groused at the man, rubbing at his temples. "And Doc, I'll admit it takes me a few seconds to shake the protoss out of my head, but I'm doing all right on that front."

    "I find it concerning that MannCo just signed off a major task force like that on this Ulaan place. Based on Zeratul's observations, they had at least a handful of battlecruisers they lost there," Matt rubbed at his chin. "Their resources really do seem to be uncanny."

    Even an older, leaky rust-bucket of a Leviathan-class battlecruiser could cost an exorbitant price to purchase on the grey market. But MannCo had never shown a single instance of using anything that could be considered too much to be 'outdated' tech. And while Zeratul might not have known the specifics, Jimmy had been sure that the battlecruisers in use over Ulaan were Behemoths, just like the Hyperion. Unlike, the Hyperion, they'd been turned into acid-washed wrecks.

    "And it's not like Yuriko's going to be giving us any specifics," Jimmy huffed before waving his hands in front of his face. "And I don't wanna think about the crystal anymore right now. How's the supply distribution going?"

    "Still going well," Matt smiled, "I think by the time this week is out, Meinhoff'll be largely clear, or at least they'll be able to transition more as a temporary rest stop for refugees heading elsewhere rather than being drowned and unable to provide for the masses."

    "I agree," Doc nodded, "After a certain point, quantity has its own quality – especially if the goods are, in fact, quality themselves. Even if they weren't taking on the food and water that MannCo prepared, the fuel and repairs to engines and reactors is letting ships take to warp travel again, letting them flee right into Umoja and the Dominion. Or elsewhere entirely."

    "That's good news," Jimmy mused, "But-,"

    All of them paused as Jimmy's communicator went off.

    "Er, yeah?" He answered after a moment, letting the holographic face of the adjutant be projected.

    "Commander, you currently have a call incoming from one Michael Liberty. Should I put him through?"

    Jimmy blinked and nodded.

    "Yeah, sure."

    The adjutant's image disappeared to be replaced with Liberty's haggard face.

    "Everything all right, man?"

    "Uh…yeah," Michael's eyes danced with amusement as he lit up a coffin nail. "I was heading out for some fresh air, and I ran into someone. Says he's from Umoja."

    Jimmy glanced about his crew, getting only confused looks in return.

    "And…what does he want?"

    "Actually Jim," Liberty chuckled, "He wants to talk to your Doctor Hanson."

    At that, the doctor in question's eyebrows crept towards her forehead.

    "Doc?" Jimmy looked at her.

    "I…have no idea," she shrugged.

    Jimmy frowned and then sighed, glancing around the mostly empty cantina. Just about everyone on the Hyperion was busy working right now, organizing the supplies as best as they could. The engineers and few scientists they had were working on installing upgrades across their forces, and they had plenty of Raiders spending as many hours as they could in training sims about the new vehicles and tech that the Raiders had picked up. Even Tychus was out and about, apparently enjoying the earnest thanks of the people as he lifted up and moved crates about while within his armor.

    "Hmm. Well, I guess he can come in. We're in the main cantina," Jimmy said after a moment.

    "All right, cowboy. See you in a few," Liberty nodded and ended the call.

    Matt, of course, immediately had concerns.

    "Sir, is this wise? Umoja might not be the Dominion, but-,"

    "But they're pretty notorious for their intelligence work and what not," Jimmy interrupted. "I'm going to have Swann and Stetmann check the exact corridors they take to get here after they're gone. Plus, no one's around for them to 'happen to ask some questions to'."

    Matt leaned back in his chair and sighed.

    "It's your call, sir."

    "It is indeed," Jimmy agreed. "Stetmann?" He glanced at the scientist, who jerked slightly.

    "Uh, yes sir?"

    "Can you backtrack their path like I said? I just don't want any extra bugs laying around."

    Stetmann may have been a bit dorky sometimes, but a lot of people forgot or just plain old didn't know that he'd sabotaged a major Dominion weapon's program before on his lonesome. Or that he'd willingly defied the criminals of Deadman's Port for a good while when he'd been on the run. That same bit of minute steel entered the young man's eyes as he swiftly turned and left the cantina. When it was time to turn it on, damn if the man couldn't turn it on.

    "Now then, what have you done that has Umoja wanting to meet with you, Doc?"

    "Expanded it considerably, Mister Raynor," an upper-class brogue echoed through the mostly empty cantina.

    All of them turned to see a man dressed in diplomatic greys and dark greys, his clothing wholly utilitarian without the slightest hint of ornamentation. A large pistol was slung at his side, but there was little else to signify the man's abilities or purpose. A massive walrus mustache connected seamlessly to thick mutton chops twitched as the man took in the cantina, eyes moving about slowly but with surety of purpose, committing everything to memory. Behind him came Liberty, shuffling to the side as the man walked – strode – into the room, coming to a stop before their table.

    "Though, I suppose, the same could be said of all of you as well," the man said calmly, bowing slightly at the waist. "I am Representative Maynard Hayes, of the Protectorate."

    "Welcome, Mister Hayes," Jimmy raised a bottle to him, "What do you mean, though?"

    "And why are you here?" Doc added, hunching slightly in her seat.

    "To answer your questions together," Hayes folded his arms behind his back and lifted up briefly on the balls of his feet. "As I am sure you are aware, more than half of the former refugee population on Meinhoff elected to flee not into the cold, unfeeling arms of the Dominion, but into our space. Unfortunately, the Protectorate's available land was frankly incapable of immediately housing so many hundreds of millions without notice. We did, however, manage a solution through the terraforming methods and technologies provided by Doctor Hanson," the man waved his hand towards Doc as he said it, causing her to blush slightly.

    "Wait, I remember this, you were tellin' me about how you sold 'em some of that or something," Jimmy turned on his stool to glance at Doc. "But something tells me this goes beyond just that," he turned his eyes on the Umojan, who simply nodded at his look.

    "Superlatively so. In our best estimates, the initial terraforming efforts would ensure the planets would meet the bare minimum of human habitability, such as the planets of Mar Sara or Haji."

    "Hey now," Jimmy scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

    "I mean no offense, Mister Raynor," Hayes held his palms up, facing them. "Merely a difference in such planets as they, fine as they are, and others such as Agria, the Doctor's former home. Having been on both, you surely recognized the difference?"

    Now Doc blew some hair free from her face, her eyes narrowing slightly.

    "Representative, as much as it is a wonder to see you so far from home, could you please get to the to point?" She did not quite growl, it was too cutesy for that, though her irritation was clear.

    "I already have, in fact, introduced precisely the point," Hayes insisted before carefully pulling out a holo-projector from his belt and placed it upon the table.

    Much to his annoyance, it made Jimmy's own look like a piece of rusted crap, the Umojan version being all clean and made of smooth grey and black materials. Hayes pressed a single button on it, causing it to produce a large orbital scan of a planet, pertinent environmental and atmospheric information displayed on the side. It was, without a doubt, a crap world. It looked like a wasteland, without much oxygen at all, barely any vegetation, and no animal life beyond minor creatures. It was just like so many worlds in the galaxy, big and basically unlivable. Of course, the picture clarity was incredible, fully colored for what it was worth, rather than the flickering green of less advanced models.

    "This was the planet Carthago before the zerg invasion," Hayes stated. "Within the nominal national boundaries of the Protectorate, but without any actual populace, only a few listening posts."

    He pressed another button, revealing a planet that appeared relatively similar. Only now there was notably more moisture in the atmosphere, clouds, a functioning water cycle, and flourishing desert vegetation. Including more animals. It was, much to Raynor's bemusement, essentially as livable as Mar Sara. Possibly even a little bit more so.

    "This was the result of the initial terraforming based upon Doctor Hanson's research and technologies, as she claimed it would," he nodded at Doc, who crossed her arms. "Fit for human habitation in excess. Perhaps not comfortably, but enough."

    Doc rose slightly in her chair, eyes widening slightly.

    "If there was a problem with the ongoing process, I told you to contact me immediately!" She insisted, now outright glaring at Hayes.

    The Umojan raised his hands again in surrender.

    "That is just the thing, Doctor. It is quite the opposite," the man said firmly before slowing reaching down to press the button on the projector again. "This video scan of Carthago was taken just hours before I departed Umojan space."

    This time, the new Carthago was utterly unrecognizable. Doc's mouth dropped open and she leaned forward, face scrunched up as she stared. It didn't look like Mar Sara, or Haji, or any place like that. Instead, it looked like Agria. Vast forests covered whole swathes of the planet, as well as enormous open fields. The deserts had disappeared almost entirely, but not quite, leaving small shrunken areas here and there. Rivers carved great channels into valleys that looked formed by natural processes, and there were vast numbers of twinkling lights from the various refugee camps that were rapidly connecting to one another. Going from tents to habitats to, potentially, future cities.

    "What…what is this?" Doc stammered before looking at Hayes, who now looked at her with a bit of worry and concern.

    "That…is what we wished to discuss with you, Doctor," Hayes coughed into a fist before folding his arms behind his back once again. "Based upon your initial projections, full terraforming of all of Carthago in this magnitude was meant to have taken many years. A decade, perhaps more. As you can see, however, this process has occurred in mere months, since the beginning of the zerg invasion and our initial communications and exchanges."

    "I-I don't…," Doc trailed off. "I don't understand."

    "And neither do we. We had hoped…that you would," Hayes said, now definitely looking uncomfortable.
    "That you do not know the reason is quite distressing. Carthago is one of five such planets that the Protectorate laid claim to previously, and now is preparing to defend most vigorously due to each of the five becoming veritable paradises compared to their previous uninhabitable states."

    "And…all of them are like this?" Doc said breathily, blinking rapidly as if she was about to fall off her chair. "I mean, yes, these are presumed projected results, but…how could it go so fast?!"

    "We don't know," Hayes said with a frown. "Extreme terraforming prevents on-hand observation, it can only be performed from orbit. However, there was a small data loss amongst our satellites and long-distance observation posts, during which the planets all seemed to…leap forwards several years in their process. We had hoped that you might have some insight on this."

    Doc shook her head, paused, and then nodded.

    "I mean…I have no idea about how this could have happened, but I'm happy to help you investigate. Do you have any more data?" She said after a moment. "Are any of the colonists showing adverse reactions, are the environment stress factors stable?"

    "While I'm pleased that you are willing to help us, and no to the first and yes to the latter," Hayes pursed his lips, "Is there truly-,"

    "Hayes," Yuriko's voice echoed oddly as it did when she had her fully concealing helmet on. "She doesn't know."

    The Umojan went pale and turned slightly on his heel to see the psychic commando lounging by the door, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

    "So how about you stop haranguing her, huh?"

    "Yuriko Thirteen," Hayes said stiffly.

    "Yep."

    "There were reports that you were in Combine space."

    "Was. Isn't Combine anymore though, is it," Yuriko said, her voice flat. "They ran off, left all their claims behind on half a dozen planets and asteroid belts."

    "Reports that you were in Combine space today," Hayes continued.

    "Mhmm. MannCo told you not to worry about it, Hayes," she continued. "The planets are terraformed. Isn't that a good thing for the, again, hundreds of millions of people who fled into Umojan space? Is not the Protectorate now more than double the size it was before this year?"

    Jimmy just watched as Yuriko stared Hayes down, small bits of sweat appearing on the man's brow.

    "Ask for the good doctor's help as needed. But don't act like you needed to actually come here in person," Yuriko sniffed audibly through her helmet's speakers and shook her head slowly from side to side before turning and leaving through the door to elsewhere.

    "Well," Hayes said after she'd left. "I-,"

    "We need to go over this data," Doc interrupted him, "It's literally unprecedented in the history of terran terraforming. Come on," she grabbed him by the arm and began dragging him along behind him.

    Which, in the end, left Jimmy alone with Matt and Liberty, who'd both been content to go silent and just watch the various proceedings.

    "So I guess MannCo can do terraforming stuff too," Liberty said into the silence. "You know something's off about them, right?" The reporter looked between the two of them. "The sheer resources and manpower they're bringing around, it statistically impossible for them to have just gotten there from mercenary work for less than a decade. Less than half a decade, actually."

    "Oh, we're aware," Matt rubbed at the back of his head and stood up from the table. "But right now, they're helping the revolution."

    "Right now," Liberty shook his head before looking over at Jimmy. "It's been a whole day. You ready to go see what happened on Aiur?"

    Jimmy drained the rest of his beer and thumped it down onto the table.

    "Might as well."
     
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    Allied Intelligence Directorate Profile - Guy
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    • Allied Intelligence Directorate
    Case File Subject: WIZARD
    Classification level: Eyes only, Level 5 Access

    Subject Name: Guy
    Alias: The Guy
    D.O.B: unknown
    Nationality: unknown
    Relatives: Guy Mendeza, brother
    Languages: Subject shows full proficiency in any currently spoken language.
    Home Address: Unknown.

    Guy first came into official Alliance notice during the infiltration of the Strategic Information Network in June 6 1983, inserting his own channel into a secure active communication between Field Agent Tanya and Allied Supreme Commander Bingham (see breach incident I-261). He subsequently offered, and shortly thereafter enacted, a plan to decapitate the entirety of Soviet leadership. This was achieved through a combination of pinpoint teleportation with potentially global reach and previously considered impossible stealth systems. Agent Tanya was witness to the execution of this plan, and it is her that the methods utilized were corroborated. Subsequent actions of Guy later throughout the war would further demonstrate the ability to teleport kilotons worth of material organic and inorganic (see CASE EXODUS) and advanced E-war capabilities that remain unmatched to this day, capable of overriding practically any system with a data uplink, be they civilian or military.

    Analysis however believes that Guy was active well before his first official action. In the months leading up to incident I-261, multiple anomalous reports across Allied territory began to surface, primarily centered around restaurants where a patron would order and subsequently consume improbable amounts of food. While inconsequential in itself given what is now known of his habits, one report of that earlier time frame stood out. A security breach of the outer perimeter in the New York FutureTech research institute. Though dismissed at the time as a case of an over-stressed researcher, the evidence overwhelmingly points towards it being Guy being present at the time, with circumstantial evidence indicating that his presence was a precursor or calling card to the theft of proprietary research, most likely documentation on the Chronosphere.

    There is an 95% certainty that Guy's teleportation capabilities stems from the theft of chrono-mechanics research. However, the level of ability displayed in his casual use of space time displacement, as well as obviating the inherently fatal consequences of chrono-shifting unshielded personnel, indicates that Guy's mastery of practical chrono-mechanics is still far in advance of even the latest generation Chronosphere.

    Despite the best efforts of the Dawkins group, no research institute has been found with the prerequisite backing and expertise to achieve such level of refinement that predates the live demonstrations of this refined technology. Best estimates place at least thirty to forty more years of iterative advancement before equivalent performance can be produced in the Allied arsenals.

    Additionally, Theta group believes that the stealth technology as described by Agent Tanya has a strong basis from the holographic camouflage technology used in Imperial Japanese Sudden Transports, albeit again sharing a level of refinement that grossly obsoletes the Imperial counterparts.

    This, combined with information Guy inadvertently leaked to Agent Tanya during OPERATION HANGMAN in regards to his augmented nature, as well as analysis from CASE MOCKINGBIRD has led to the current prevailing theory as to the origins of this individual and the answer behind his advanced technology.

    Unlike CASE MOCKINGBIRD, Guy is a fully autonomous, self directing artificial intelligence. One capable of greatly accelerated learning and experimentation. Given the samples from CASE MOCKINGBIRD, Guy is most likely a product of the now defunct Imperial Japan. It is not known how or why he broke free from whatever directives that must have been programmed in him at the time period, but the presence of a Yuriko psychic commando at his side throughout the later stages of the war, the revelation of the flagrant abuses by the psychic commando program, as well as the final outcome of the Empire is damning.


    RECOMMENDATION
    Threat level: Extreme. Do not provoke.

    Between rapid charge pinpoint chrono-shift technology, stealth fields and his E-war mastery, Guy possesses the unparalleled ability to decapitate and paralyze any modern nation at will. Work is being done towards hardening critical command and control links, but there is no way to be certain of their efficiency until and unless Guy commits to a first strike. The risks of failure in such an outcome are undesirable to the extreme.

    However, the post war situation indicates that Guy and his leash holder are more interested in a hedonistic lifestyle than any power play now that their primary objectives have been achieved. Outside of the establishment of Nova Industries (see file D-456 DOPPELGANGER), analysis does not believe this behavioral trend will change absent a significant X factor. Should they be left alone, there is a high probability they will reciprocate.

    **********

    A/N: I said I'd build a dossier, and I did. AID used their brains and got some right, and some things wrong. Given what happened in that arc, I think they reasonably got close.
     
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    • Allied Intelligence Directorate Profile - DOPPELGANGER
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    • Allied Intelligence Directorate
    Case File Subject: DOPPELGANGER
    Classification level: Top Secret, Level 4 Access

    Subject Name: Guy Mendeza
    Alias: Wizard of Ukraine
    D.O.B: June 17, 1958
    Nationality: Ukrainian
    Relatives: Guy, brother
    Languages: Subject shows full proficiency in any currently spoken language.
    Home Address: Nova Industries Headquarters, Odessa, Ukraine

    Guy Mendeza first came to official AID notice during the failure of OPERATION PAPERCLIP when the majority of priority targets vanished from surveillance one day before extraction specialists could be routed on site. As these were high ranking intelligentsia responsible for much of the communists advanced arsenal, it was assumed that they had been tipped off and fled deeper into Soviet lines.

    Significant effort was expended on finding these hidden redoubts, but ultimately proved fruitless when routine information gathering services noted the IPO of the newly formed Nova Industries of the similarly recently liberated Ukraine. In the 4 days since it's inception, the corporation had announced the wholesale acquisition of several key Soviet military industrial firms. These firms include but are not limited to, Kazminov Design Bureau, the Mikevich-Gurevoyan Aircraft Corporation, Vodnik Rocket Arsenal and Krasna Aerospace. As with the company assets, much of their key staff had also been folded into the Ukranian corporation and firmly entrenched in their research departments, preempting AID efforts while under the chaos of the Soviet collapse.

    Though inquiries were made as to the possibility of repatriating the persons of interests to Allied custody, agreements between the Allied GHQ and the Ukraine parliament did not include the necessary framework for such requests to legally go through. Attempts to induce defection as well as other covert methods were considered and ultimately discarded as unlikely to work and the potential political blowback in the event of discovery (see file NI-5s, Nova Industries security arm) being far too risky respectively.

    Investigations at that point turned towards Guy Mendeza himself, as information uncovered by soft assets revealed that he was the critical figure behind almost every single instance of poached Soviet staff, often as the buildings they were hiding in came under fire from Soviet insurrectionists. Initial evidence pointed towards Mendeza being a cut out by the military politburo to ensure a legally untouchable core of scientists to rebuild the Union in the future, but files from the Dawkins group debunked it in short order, identifying man as the very same individual who arranged for Premier Cherdenkov's capture (see OPERATION HANGMAN).

    Again, this would prove to be a mistaken premise. NIGHTANGLE's sole transmission to date has revealed the fact that the Guy's are identical brothers, with the latter being described as an acquisitions specialist while Mendeza helms the research and development efforts at Nova Industries. While his overall goals remain unknown to this date, and the loss of Soviet scientists to him remains a frustrating point, Mendeza has not frozen out the Allied nations from the output of his research division, albeit at retail prices. Given the stated goals of OPERATION PAPERCLIP, this is considered to be an acceptable compromise.

    However, it cannot be stressed enough that as a non-Allied company, Nova Industries remains a Ukrainian company, and it's charter has been written to prevent Mendeza's removal of the CEO position by any legal means. Nations outside of the Allies are categorically not barred from their advanced military technology catalogue and Mendeza has remained scrupulously neutral despite efforts to pressure him into exclusivity agreements. Whether that neutrality will last in the event of a conflict between Ukraine and another remains to be seen, but confidence is low. Furthermore, the rapid growth of Nova Industries portfolio and technological development shows no signs of stopping. At current rates, analysis indicates that Nova will be a in a position to challenge Futuretech as the premier provider of advanced military technology inside of a year.

    Should this trend not be reversed or otherwise mitigated, any future conflict may very well see the Allied powers operating from a position of distinctive technological inferiority. Options are currently being explored under CASE REDLIGHT and CASE BLACKLIGHT


    CLASSIFICATION LEVEL 5, EYES ONLY
    With information from CASE WIZARD, it is almost certain that Guy Mendeza is not human, but either another autonomous machine intelligence patterned after Guy, or a puppet body for Guy. Analysis believes that Nova Industries is intended to operate as both a source of funds and a tech clearing house using looted Soviet and Empire technology as a starting base. Given the extremely advanced technology demonstrated during OPERATION HANGMAN, it is probable that even the high tech catalogue offered by Nova Industries to preferred buyers are likely to be reduced capacity export models.

    Technology in use by Guy himself, or Nova Industries security forces, should be assumed to be at least two or three generations ahead of the public cutting edge.


    AN: Because if you make a robo brother and say he's your twin, some people are going to put a file up on him anyway.
     
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    • 108 - Dark Echoes, Harsh Whispers
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    • 108 - Dark Echoes, Harsh Whispers
    ​
    "Oh hey!" Yuriko said cheerfully as she entered the lab, causing both Jimmy and Liberty to jump just about out of their own skins.

    The two of them had been staring at the crystal for a few minutes now, but from the other side of the room and thus outside of the 'activation' range of the thing. At least as far as Jimmy knew. The Ihan crystal was clearly keyed to their minds by this point, much to the consternation of a now painfully curious Stetmann, though if Jimmy recalled correctly once they'd run through the full course of the crystal's stored memories it would be possible for others to try and utilize it. Though they'd have to go through it all from the top again. It was exactly the sort of thing the protoss would use, requiring one to understand the beginning, the middle, and the end. The exact same philosophy that pushed their species into having their Preservers in the first place.

    Except that he hadn't known that, for certain. Jimmy frowned as he mulled over the thoughts that had just gone through his head. Was that him remembering something because he was sober, or was that because of his experiencing of Zeratul's memories?

    "Yuriko," Jimmy waved to the woman before scrutinizing what she had brought into the lab. "What's with the chairs?"

    "You know you two have come out all cramped and sore the past few times, right?" She looked between him and Liberty. "Figured you could just sit down this time around."

    "…well now I feel dumb," the reporter groused. "How did we not think of that after the first time?"

    "I don't know," she shrugged before floating the two stools – clearly stolen from the cantina – over to them. "Anyway, here you go," she looked between the two with a smile before turning and beginning to exit the lab.

    "Yuriko," Jimmy called, causing the psychic to half-turn in the doorway.

    "Yeah?"

    He paused, opened his mouth, and closed it again. For once, he just couldn't think of anything to say.

    "Never mind."

    "Sure," she chuckled. "See how long that lasts."

    Which left Jimmy and Liberty in the room, the two men looking at one another and then back in the crystal.

    "Well?"

    "Might as well," Liberty sighed as he stamped out his cigarette.


    It was a grim and quiet journey to Aiur, friend Raynor. Karass' force had taken casualties, both on Ulaan and on Zhakul, as had my own meager Dark Templar brethren who had volunteered to journey with me. But we were not without further aid from the Preservers. In thanks for our aid, many of their guardians had volunteered to aid us on our people's homeworld, breaking with tradition just this once before they would return to their eternal vigil in defense of the Preservers. And yet we were not travelling to Aiur alone but for our fellow protoss. The enigmatic terran, Yuriko Thirteen, had been permitted to join us, if only from my curiosity as to the source of her knowledge. She refused to elaborate, choosing instead to meditate on the Void Seeker, save that she sought only to aid us 'at the moment'.

    I did not probe into the terran's mind, though I could have made the attempt. Her defenses were strange, primitive, savage, yet even the lightest touch of my own mind had been repulsed with an agonizing amount of pain – the screams of thousands of voices that sounded disturbingly like her own. She sat in one of the meditation circles within the Void Seeker, seemingly unperturbed at being utterly surrounded by protoss and Xel'Naga technologies. Instead, she floated, her legs crossed, a faint bubble of psionic energy flickering in and out of being around her. It almost looked to be the same as a protoss psionic shield, but it surely could not be, for her garb and equipment was utterly without protoss connection in any respect.

    And yet…never before had I seen such terran technologies as what she had wielded in the final moments of the battle against the hybrid corrupting Zhakul.

    "Are we at Aiur, then?" She asked without opening her eyes or opening her mouth, her voice strange but not wholly unpleasant to my mind.

    "We are, Yuriko Thirteen. We will be landing shortly, Karass' observers have located some of their kind on the ground and a nearby intact base," I informed her, half-cloaked within the shadows of the ship. "We must be wary. Many zerg still remain surrounding their fallen master."

    "I'm aware," she said softly as she floated upwards until she could unfurl her legs beneath her to stand. "Feral, yes, but feral does not mean harmless."

    "Indeed," I murmured before we both readied to exit the ship.

    Just as the last time I had seen Aiur, my heart and soul ached at the sight of it. That had not changed. And, as we warped down to the surface, even the terran Yuriko Thirteen, I could feel the grief and pain emanating from all protoss present. The Khala was unnecessary, the barest of psionic emanations from the Templar was palpable to all Dark Templar present, and our own shared pain could be just as easily sensed by them. This was Aiur. Our shining homeworld, bastion of knowledge and strength for the whole of our people. Even we exiles told stories and remembered our true home for what it was. Or at least, what it was meant to be. Now, the cities were ruins, some of which still burned now after years later. The winding fields and hills were flattened or broken by upheavals of the earth and weapon impacts, whole swathes of the planet scorched by purification beams. Worse than any of it, however, were the teeming masses of zerg which infested the whole of the planet.

    The touch of zerg creep beneath my feet, the bio-organic carpet of flesh writhing and almost slurping at the soles of them, engendered a disgust like little else in my centuries of life ever could hope to manage.

    A whistling brought the heads of many Templar and Dark Templar about, the noise emerging from Yuriko Thirteen's mouth. It emerged from behind her scarred helmet, the helm concealing the whole of her head and hair from sight but was broadcast with crystal clear clarity. I shifted on my feet, however, at the sight of several of the Templar glaring in her direction, perceiving the noise as disrespectful.

    "Zerg really did a number on this place," she said, making another mouth noise known as 'tutting' and shaking her head. "Damn."

    Thankfully, the empathy in her voice seemed to somewhat mollify those irritated by her presence. At least enough not to speak of it further as we advanced across the grounds, destroying what zerg we could to reach the base. Already, Karass had begun warping in pylons with his probes, but it was only after we reactivated the nexus that we received a true shock. A glorious if bittersweet one, perhaps, but one that I resolved to welcome all the same. For striding forth from the waters, towering above us all, responding to a message that had finally gone through with the reactivation of the nexus, came the legendary colossi of Aiur. Similar exclamations of joy and praise came from the Templar around us, though it was of course tinged with the remembrance as to just why the colossi had been deactivated.

    "You are not surprised by the sight of the colossi, terran," Karass announced aloud, drawing looks from many.

    Indeed, Yuriko Thirteen simply looked appreciative for the presence of the colossi, not gob smacked as one who had never seen the ancient machines before should have. High Templar Karass hovered before her, arms crossed, and yet so too was the terran floating in a similar manner, her head almost lazily turning to regard Karass.

    "No," she agreed with a nod. "I am not."

    "And yet they only began to be reactivated recently. None before the fall of Aiur," Karass continued, his suspicions forming a thick cloud about his mind.

    "Correct," she nodded again before tilting her head. "It's sort of hard to miss the protoss activating dedicated war machines, you know? It's not like it's hard to miss the buildup of the Golden Fleet."

    There was much bristling amongst the Templar, but there was a crude wisdom to her words. Shakuras had been kept hidden from much of the sector for its entire existence as the secluded home of the Dark Templar. But after Aiur, after the Brood War, even the terrans had grown to know of its existence. Artanis and the Daelaam had made no secret of their efforts to construct the Golden Fleet, the resource extraction and manufacturing required made it impossible to hide if any looked even casually towards Shakuras. Still, the legends said that the colossi had been hidden quite carefully, on distant worlds and free floating asteroids in the darkness between the stars, as well as in the oceans of Aiur. To hear a terran to casually confirm observing their retrieval was…disturbing.

    "But in the meantime," she gestured towards the corpse of the Overmind, overlords and mutalisks clouding it. "We have a job to do, don't we?"

    "…we do. Come, Templar," Karass announced, spreading his arms wide, "Let us reclaim some small measure of Aiur, for a brief time at least!"

    And so war between protoss and zerg erupted on Aiur once more, if on a smaller scale. We advanced after preparing our forces, and marched out against the feral zerg. Alien gore splashed across the armor of my fellow Dark Templar and the zealots of Karass, our blades tasting blood and cutting through chitin and bone. Particle accelerators and plasma cannons spat and boomed as we pushed the zerg back, weapons fire reaching up to pluck the flying zerg organisms that were close enough out of the sky. The first, and nearest tendril, was not overly difficult to reach, our shields mighty enough to withstand the unfocused zerg without more than minor injury. Those few mutalisks that managed to get past the weapons of our stalkers were shot apart by the terran Yuriko, and soon enough we stood amongst a handful of protoss buildings that surprisingly still thrummed quietly.

    "A moment, Dark Prelate," Karass held up a hand as a probe came to warp in a pylon.

    And a moment I gave, more than happy to do so as the pylon reactivated the gateway. To my jubilance, and those of the other protoss around me, we were all pleasantly surprised to see several protoss return to the living. They were harried, certainly, but with the presence of other Templar there, and the Khala they brought with them, these lost defenders of Aiur were swiftly appraised of the situation. Bereft of the Khala, I could only watch as their desperation and fury from during the fall of Aiur transformed to pain, to grief, to horror at the years they had lost since the Tassadar's sacrifice. They turned, then, to me and Karass, the sole High Templar among their number bowing his head.

    "Adun Toridas, Dark Prelate Zeratul! We were trapped within the gate's energy matrix when it was deactivated. You have our thanks for returning us to the fight once more," the High Templar's voice was weary, but eager for battle still.

    "I am only sorry we could not have done so sooner, brothers," I told them earnestly.

    "Yes," he nodded, "Much has happened since the death of the Overmind, and the sacrifice of Tassadar. The Khala fills us with grief…but also with resolve," he raised a hand, psionic fire flaring briefly around it. "We shall aid you in the discernment of this prophecy, honored one."

    'Honored one'. From those who once would have called us heretics fit only to be struck down. Yet through the Khala, they witnessed and felt the emotions and memories of those who had fought alongside us Dark Templar for years.

    "Then let us fight as one. But first…," I turned to the first tendril.

    It was the size of a zerg ultralisk but had once been even larger. I could tell that the zerg had been steadily consuming it for some time, yet even now so much still remained as the Overmind's wayward children feasted upon its corpse. This close, I could see the titanic bulk of the dead abomination, an impact crater still upon its body where Tassadar had rammed his ship into it. And in that moment, I could not help but remember that this was my fault, and mine alone. I had slain the cerebrate, I had given the knowledge of Aiur however inadvertently. Tassadar, my friend, was dead, when it should have been me. Better that he had lived, than I.

    "Zeratul, you all right?" The terran called, shaking me from my regrets.

    "My burdens weigh heavily, Yuriko Thirteen," I informed her before steeling my resolve. "But I must proceed."

    And so, despite my reservations, I reached out to the lingering, choking shadow that was the echo of the Overmind's psionic presence. Despite being dead for many years, much lingered, more than even I had anticipated. Including its very death. Dead nerves pulsed, shook, the very tendril beginning to shudder from old, phantom pains running through it once more as long loops of tissue began to tremble. I could not comprehend the totality of the Overmind's abominable existence, but it was more than enough to nearly shatter my sense of self entirely.

    "There is…pain," I grunted out, my mind struggling to process what it had been to withstand Tassadar's sacrifice. "Surprise…death!"

    Then the connection faded, the tentacle's writhing from being forced to experience the Overmind's death once more shaking it free down below into the pit where the rest of the Overmind slouched and rotted. I fell, gasping with all my might to pull in oxygen into my body through my skin, smelling the stink and decay of my surroundings with vaster intensity than I had thought possible. It was as if every sense I possessed was briefly, painfully magnified. I could hear the chittering of the zerg across my entire body, as if…

    "The zerg," I gasped, somehow knowing the truth of my words without knowing how, "They perceive a threat to their dead master! We must return to our base!"

    How it is I sensed the nydus worms so long before they emerged, I was not certain. But we moved swiftly, returning back to where the Void Seeker and Karass' carrier waited. Soon enough, waves of zerg burst forth from the earth and from the cavernous maws of the nydus worms that even now tunneled through the earth of Aiur. In the carnage, I found some measure of peace, the purity of combat letting me withstand the crushing power of the Overmind even after it's death. Again, we fought, and again, we found victory, accompanied by the barking boom and impact of the terran's rifle at points when our lines risked being overwhelmed. The towering bulks of the nydus worms were burned to death by the colossi and lay where they died, the weight of their own bodies transforming them into new pieces of rotting landscape. There was but a brief lull after the attack stopped while we regrouped.

    "There's some weird stuff going on that way," the terran pointed towards the east. "There's some terran signals, but they're old and garbled to boot. Probably just a bunch of poor infested bastards."

    Before the appearance of the hybrid, I had once thought that there could be no accursed joining of protoss and zerg like the latter seemed to do to all other forms of life. The very existence of the infested were abominable, and yet perhaps there had been some strange arrogance there in thinking that it was impossible for the protoss. The very existence of the hybrid had stripped that hubris from me, and likely from all other protoss who had fought on Zhakul. What was worse, however, was that I knew the sight of which she spoke. It was highly likely that many of the infested terrans left on Aiur were not only soldiers of the UED, or the Dominion, but those brave warriors that had once accompanied James Raynor to Aiur and fought alongside us.

    "Also, there's a deactivated warp gate and some facilities up north," she continued, "There might just be a few more protoss just waiting to be retrieved from the energy matrixes."

    "The zerg seem to have been beaten back for now," Karass noted, "It may be possible to split our forces, Zeratul, with some remaining to keep our base secure and the rest forging north."

    "We should proceed cautiously, nonetheless," I looked between the two, "These zerg may be feral, but they are still zerg, and quite dangerous."

    The next hour was a painful one. Not merely because of the zerg, but because every footstep on Aiur was a reminder of what had been lost to the zerg. Of our history, our legacy, infested and corrupted and covered by the aliens. Once shining spires had become breeding grounds for mutalisks, halls of contemplation turned into ultralisk and hydralisk dens. There was a pained, righteous fury in all our hearts as we scoured the zerg with a steady advance. Aided by the psionic storms of the High Templar, the thermal beams of the colossi, and the blades of zealots and Dark Templar alike, we cut down each of the hive clusters surrounding the Overmind. There, we found truth to the terran's words, once more somehow displaying knowledge we ourselves did not possess. In the north, yet more brave Templar were returned to the fold from their energy matrixes, and in the east, we scoured clean the infested ruins of a once strong terran base. There were further bases upon plateaus and rises, hideous structures replacing the protoss buildings that once held those defensive positions, and yet these were dealt with by the aid of the terran's strangely advanced weaponry and Karass' carrier.

    Swiftly enough, all that was required was defending our base, treating our wounded, while a band of fellow Dark Templar, Karass, and the terran accompanied me to the remaining tendrils that connected directly to the Overmind's cortex.

    The things I felt as I connected with its dead mind will haunt me forever. The utterly alien sensations, phantom pains and urges and exertions, each time nearly overwhelming me to the point of being rendered insensate. I fell to my knees thrice, once after each connection. Four times I was forced to feel the Overmind's death from its perspective. But with each connection, I could comprehend more and more. I felt it's death, yes, but so too did I feel what I rejected at first, for I did not wish to bear it – the joy of the Overmind. It's satisfaction, the hope that a plan long in motion might be fulfilled. I felt the fear of a being that I had not thought could possibly express such an emotion, from a mind that dwarfed my own even in death. But finally, after experiencing those horrid, eldritch echoes four times, there came to be an unescapable truth.

    "I must go to the main cortex itself," I said wearily, even as Karass once more helped me upright. "It…it is there that I will understand."

    "Zeratul, are you sure?" Karass asked of me, his mind radiating concern.

    "Yes. I must," I nodded but once and he let me stand on my own to feet, letting me trudge to where something deep within was drawing me. "And I must go alone."

    "Zeratul-,"

    I do not know why I was so certain, but I was. Something within my very bones told me that he could not accompany me on this final step.

    "Karass. Please."

    He paused, his feet touching the now purified earth of Aiur once more as his levitation ceased, his head bowed in thought.

    "Very well, Dark Prelate. I shall return our forces to our base to await your return."

    It was, however, only after his departure that the terran revealed herself once more, her cloaking not the garbing of oneself in the Void and shadow, but something assisted by technology. One that, still, had somehow managed to hide herself from me. Truly, I had been wearied more than I thought by my experiences.

    "I must go alone, Yuriko Thirteen," I informed her, though the sensation was not nearly so strong as before.

    "You must go unaccompanied by those connected to the Khala," she corrected, giving me much pause.

    "I…what?"

    "C'mon," she walked past me, towards the cliff edge of the pit where the Overmind's body lay.

    I made to dissuade her, to argue, but for another's arrival. One who should not have been there. His body shimmered with pure psionic energies, and yet the touch of his mind, his strength, his voice…

    "Greetings, brother. I speak to you…from the Beyond."

    I beheld the impossible. I searched out with every iota of my ability, testing, probing, trying to discern whether this was a hallucination or a true vision.

    "Tassadar," I breathed hard, my skin flexing and pulsing with each inhale and exhale. "But…you died…slaying this cursed Overmind!"

    Yet it was Tassadar who shook his head, his voice stern yet almost faintly amused at my words.

    "I have never tasted death, Zeratul – nor shall I."

    I nearly missed the quiet snort of the terran but could not spare the attention to think of it further, my mind awhirl.

    "But that is a tale for another time. I have come to tell you of this creature's…courage."

    Disgust and outrage welled within me.

    "Courage?!" I cried out. "It was an abomination!"

    It was the death of Aiur, of seventy percent of our entire species, it was what I had done to the protoss!

    "Not always," Tassadar shook his head, emanations of regret and sadness pouring forth from him into me. "The zerg were…," he almost growled, "Altered. A single overriding purpose was forced upon them: the destruction of our people," he seemed to almost droop where he lay. "The Overmind was formed with thought and reason…but not free will. It screamed and raged within the prison…of it's own mind."

    The revelation nearly broke me. I could not understand, the horror, the death, all of it done to our people, at the hands of some sort of puppet?!

    "Who did this?!" I begged of him, my ignorance a blade to my very heart, "Why?"

    Why had our people been forced to suffer so?

    "I know not-,"

    Why did the terran tilt her head?

    "But the Overmind found a way to resist its all-consuming directive. It created a chance…a hope of salvation. The Queen of Blades."

    No. It was too much. I shook my head, no, my entire body, at the offered truth. It bled my soul to even hear of it.

    "Madness," I decried, and yet Tassadar was not done.

    He raised a hand, and I winced as I felt visions of the zerg, of the Overmind, begin to flicker and flow through my mind.

    "Only she can free the zerg from slavery – and in so doing, save all that is…from the flame."

    I beseeched him once more.

    "I do not understand, brother!"

    But Tassadar was relentless.

    "Forget what you know, Zeratul. The Overmind saw a vision…the end of all things. And now you must see it too."

    The visions, the thoughts, the memories, they flowed stronger and harder through my mind. I fell, though I know not at what point precisely, and let loose a pained scream as the knowledge forced its way into me. It was not the same measure as the Xel'Naga temples, nor those of the Preservers. It was the disgusting, choking oily sludge that had been the highest minds of the zerg Swarm. Of the Overmind itself. No longer merely just echoes like the tendrils, but something so terribly alive!

    "No! This…vision! I cannot bear it, stop!" I begged of Tassadar.

    And yet he would not, even then. Slowly, then faster and faster, it began to swallow me up. That which had been Zeratul would be lost within the oceanic scope of the terrible vision of the Overmind. I struggled to remain upright, my knees on the ground, my face pressed into the cold soil of Aiur at night. I barely heard Tassadar's next few words.

    "And you, servant of the Interloper-,"

    "Servant?! That's not our relationship at all and if he heard you say that he'd-," the terran barked, interrupting him and rubbing at her forehead. "Not important right now. I've got some questions this time around, Tassadar," she said archly.

    My mind's defenses began to collapse as the vision dragged me along with it, no matter how much I tried to resist. But still, with immense effort, I forced myself to pull just above the tide, just for a little longer. Too long had Yuriko Thirteen held herself aloof, separate, without giving hint to anything. But only scraps and fragments could even be perceived by that point as the searing strength of the Overmind's vision ran through my mind.

    "…do not fire that weapon again-,"

    "…could have worked…"

    "…others? We…"

    "-long ago-,"

    "Well, why-,"

    "…by time itself…,"

    "…but..,"

    "You might…"

    "Absolutely not!"

    And with that last shout of the terran Yuriko Thirteen, I was lost.

    ===========================================================
    ​
    Jimmy came back to himself with a gasp, the sheer pain that Zeratul had been in making his own head pound. Next to him, Liberty had hunched over on his stool, hands clutching at the sides of his head. The two of them existed in that state for what felt like hours, simply letting the phantom pains of Zeratul reverberate through their bodies. Neither of the men were psionic in the slightest, and yet they now had a whole host of memories and sensations that said otherwise, though they were already beginning to fade. Probably something to do with the whole differences between terran and protoss brains. Or possibly something else entirely. Before, the two of them had been able to stagger their way back to the cantina, or a bunk, and try and sleep it off. This time, it felt like moving itself could be deadly.

    It was the clink of glass on glass which brought both of them both out of it.

    Standing there, holding a large battle of single malt whiskey, was Yuriko, a duo of glasses held with her mind. Wordlessly, she poured until each of the glasses was nearly full to the brim and slowly floated them closer until both men could hold them with their hands. Then both drank, letting the painful burn in their definitely human bodies helped bring them back from the brink. No one spoke a word until they had completely drained their glasses, even Liberty who looked ready to ask a few questions before he winced and started rubbing at his temples again.

    "Rough, huh?" She said after a while.

    "One word for it," Jimmy rasped.

    "That part at the end," Liberty seized upon instead, using his own inquisitive nature as a lifeline. "What was that about?"

    "I don't know when the memory ends," Yuriko tilted her head to the side.

    "Zeratul was damn near seizing from getting the vision shoved into him, but somehow," Liberty croaked and then drank some more. "He managed to keep conscious just long enough to hear you and this Tassadar, at least part of it."

    For the first time ever, Jimmy saw a genuine surprised look on Yuriko's face. It was quickly concealed, but it had been there all the same.

    "Shit, really?" She drew her head back. "Man had his face in the dirt, his mind totally on fire, I didn't…huh," she leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms. "Huh."

    "You wanna go into that, or…," Jimmy tacked on before grabbing the bottle and pouring more whiskey.

    "Nope," Yuriko popped the 'p' as she said it.

    "Could you?" Liberty pressed a bit harder.

    "I could, yes," Yuriko nodded. "But it isn't pertinent at the moment."

    "Yuriko-," Jimmy growled, a hard, ugly ball of irritation flaring into anger somewhere deep in his gut as she raised a hand.

    "MannCo attempted something, and it didn't work," she said with a sigh. "Something about specific resonances or signals or something…imagine this," she pivoted with her feet, holding up both hands and waggling them up and down. "You have a poison meant to kill a very specific type of bear. And it works verifiably on all bears in the forests on Planet A."

    "Bear poison," Liberty repeated, the word mostly a grunt as he stared at her.

    "Sure, we can call it that," Yuriko snorted and held a hand to her face as she shook her head for a moment. "Okay, so you go to Planet B, and you find something looks like a bear, acts like a bear, and is, for all intents and purposes, a bear as far as you know. Except the poison doesn't work. And apparently, the poison just makes the bear mad, and makes the bear blame another bear on Planet B because as it turns out the bears of Planet B hate each other, and already have special anti-bear poisons. And know about them, way more than any of the bears on Planet A did."

    "Bears. Right," Jimmy pursed his lips, trying to think his way through her words even as his migraine grew worse.

    Given the groan from Liberty, it was intensifying for him as well.

    "So was…Tassadar a bear? Are you talking about some kind of anti-protoss weapon?" Jimmy managed a glare, "What the hell is MannCo up to? I ain't about to just-,"

    "It's not an anti-protoss weapon," Yuriko sighed. "I can promise you that much."

    "And the other stuff?" Liberty insisted, making Jimmy and Yuriko look at the man.

    His eyes were bloodshot, his hands were trembling, but he looked right at the psychic.

    "What were you asked that you got so angry about?"

    A memory slid into Jimmy's brain.

    "You told Zeratul something like that back when he was on the ship," he said aloud, drawing a quiet 'what' from Liberty. "This is related, huh?"

    Yuriko's mouth slowly closed and the constant bemused look to her disappeared as well. It was all replaced by something cold and distant, something dangerous on a level that it was sometimes easy to forget.

    "You heard Tassadar," she jerked her chin at them, eyes now narrowed. "The Queen of Blades is the salvation of the zerg, and of the universe."

    "I heard it, don't know if I can believe it," Jimmy admitted.

    But then his mind, churning with alien visions and memories, full of whiskey, managed to throw up a single thought which stopped him dead.

    "But if she, somehow, wasn't available," he breathed out, horror seizing him. "Then…,"

    "Yeah. Then. Maybe. Perhaps. What-if," Yuriko drawled, kicking off from the wall and striding past them. "It took a Class 10 Psionic on the scale that Kerrigan personally re-defined when she was in the Ghost Academy to become the Queen of Blades," she thumped a hand against the button to open the door out of the lab, leaving the two men still hunched on their chairs.

    Jimmy swiveled, slightly, to look at her, now half-shadowed by the hallway.

    "There are, currently, only two other human psychics alive in the Korprulu Sector of comparable psychic power to Sarah Kerrigan before Tarsonis," she said quietly. "Both are women. Odd, that."

    "Yuriko-,"

    "Watch the last memory, Raynor," she said, stepping back out into the corridor. "It's time for you to watch an ending."

    And the door slid shut behind her, leaving Jimmy's mind awhirl behind it.

    Then Liberty vomited all over his shoes.

    "Agh, damn it!"

    It took an hour, a nice hot shower, and some painkillers before both felt ready for the last of it. This time, though, Stetmann and Doc Hanson were present in the lab as well.

    "Non-invasive brain-scans, I swear," Doc insisted, holding the quietly beeping device.

    To Jimmy, it sort of looked like if a stethoscope had a mutated baby with a medic suit's surgical beam emitter.

    "Please, sir," Stetmann begged, practically hopping up and down where he stood. "The information could be invaluable!"

    Jimmy raised an eyebrow and glanced at Liberty.

    "I don't object," the reporter sighed. "But after this, I'm really close to asking for a medically induced coma, at least for a few days."

    "Normally I'd advise against that sort of thing as unnecessary," Doc frowned. "But given how your readings are going, and the strain on your minds, it could be helpful? I'm not sure, no records of Ihan crystal use have, thus far at least, involved terrans and such intense memories."

    "You know we're just gonna sit here like some slack jawed apes for a couple hours, right?" Jimmy looked at the two scientists.

    Despite his words, neither seemed particularly unenthused at the prospect.

    "I mean…sure, whatever," he sighed and then took a sip from his flask. "I get the feeling this one's gonna really suck."

    "Absolutely," Liberty said with a wry smile. "But we've come this far, haven't we?"

    "Guess we have," Jimmy chuckled before they sat down. "Here we go, I guess."

    The crystal grew brighter, brighter, and brighter still. Until it seemed like the light went around the bend right back around into darkness. Just like that, Jimmy Raynor and Michael Liberty were gone, plunged into the vision of the Overmind as it had bent its immense psionic abilities to divine the future which awaited it. A future of rubble and ash, of blood spilled and spilled until every vein was dry. Of one last glorious flame which tried to burn itself into the very fabric of reality, only to be choked out by silence and shadow, along with everything else. If Raynor had been capable of it, he would have begun screaming, but instead he was simply there, everywhere, not as if he were Zeratul himself, but rather he was Zeratul witnessing the vision, a vision writ thrice – once by the Overmind originally, then through Tassadar to Zeratul, and now Zeratul to Jimmy and inadvertently Michael Liberty.

    "I'm not sure if I should throw that crystal off the ship or not," Matt Horner murmured as he watched Raynor and Liberty laying in sick bay.

    "I'd recommend not. It's a potentially useful tool," Yuriko said calmly from next to him. "Really, they should be fine after a day or two."

    "And you'd know, huh?" The Captain of the Hyperion looked at the psychic out of the corner of his eye.

    He'd already been wary of Jim using the damn thing, but so many times, so quickly? It had clearly taken a heavy toll on the man, and on Liberty as well. He'd watched as over the course of a handful of days, during what should have been fine and heartening work helping the refugees of Meinhoff, while Jim and his old reporter friend steadily got paler and paler. More drawn out, more haunted. While Matt had been a little unsure as to whether or not Zeratul had actually made it on the ship, the crystal's presence was undeniable, as was its effects. There were already a few rumors spreading across the crew, especially amongst those who weren't nearly as kindly inclined towards protoss as Jim was.

    "Yeah," Yuriko nodded calmly.

    "And what do you mean tool?"

    She just looked at him.

    "It's basically reset, the crystal now. Stetmann already started up a new circuit on it, though he'll probably regret it," she bounced slightly on the balls of her heels. "And by the end of it, he'll know what went down as well, though he's definitely trying to use the crystal to help give him insight into protoss biology and technologies. Have you considered taking a look inside of it?"

    Matt balked at the thought, which got an amused little smile on Yuriko's face.

    "No, I think I'm doing just fine, thanks."

    "What, do you think it'll make the revolution seem pointless, too small-time compared to the potential end of the universe?" She said it guilelessly, a faux innocence that was belied by the cold calculating look in her eyes.

    An angry red flush came to Matt's cheeks, a mixture of the anger at her suggestion and embarrassment that she might well have been right. Matt had never considered himself a coward, but there was a definite hesitation in him about even thinking about looking into the Ihan crystal.

    "Look at how badly it debilitated Jim. Even if he's going to be fine, supposedly, someone had to make sure that the supplies were getting distributed and our troops trained in the simulators on schedule in the meantime," he said harshly, but of course it had no effect on Yuriko who simply shrugged and turned to walk away.

    "Sure thing Horner. Keep telling yourself that," she began whistling as she walked away, hands held behind her back.

    ======================================================================


    ​
    Jimmy woke with a gasp, the faint remnants of what must have been a truly massive migraine still throbbing in his temples. All around him were the faint hiss and whirr of the sick ward, and the bodies of a number of injured Raiders. None of them in critical condition either. It was mostly just those who were still being treated for injuries sustained on Xil, and the harsh fighting against the Tal'Darim there. His heart was pounding in his chest, and for a moment he forgot that he had to breath through his mouth and nose like a terran and not through his skin like a protoss. The shadows created by the calming dim lighting comforted him more than they should have, up until he realized that he could not press through and touch them, let alone see through them, like a Dark Templar might. Further contemplation was short-circuited by a soft but pleased voice.

    "Jim! You're awake!" Doc Hanson said, making him look over to where she had been glancing over a data pad over another patient.

    It was, in fact, Rodriguez, the pilot who'd taken Jimmy down to Xil in the first place. It was some sort of grim irony that she was the worst injured out of anyone who'd gone onto the planet, and only in the first few moments. The various tacked up x-rays next to her bed were gruesome to look at, with there being almost no evidence of the ribcage any longer, as well as several fragments of the skull being forced to be extracted to prevent damage to the brain as it swelled. Still, the woman had lived, and hopefully would in the future. But she most definitely wouldn't be doing any more flying, Jimmy knew that much.

    "Yeah, guess I am," he grunted, pausing as he swore he heard the dying war cries of thousands of protoss just on the edge of his hearing.

    "Are you…all right? Your brain scans went wild during your contact with the Ihan crystal, but they've stabilized completely by now," she asked, coming over to help him sit up.

    "All right? No, not really," he grimaced. "Got to see the end of the universe from the Overmind's perspective. It uh, wasn't pretty."

    If only…we had acted sooner…

    He shuddered, hearing the last mournful words of a dying future Zeratul one more time.

    "I can only imagine. It sounds horrible…but that Zeratul seemed insistent that you see it," Doc said, a hand going up to lightly touch his arm. "Was he right?"

    "…maybe," Jimmy sighed. "How'd Mike take it?"

    "Mr. Liberty actually woke up a short time ago, and immediately proceeded to start smoking his way through a pack of cigarettes," she said, a bit of annoyance in her voice as the glanced into the middle distance before refocusing on him. "He complained of a mild headache, but that's it…though he did look…haunted. Just like you," she frowned down at him. "I think both of you should stay in bed for a bit longer, but something tells me that you won't agree, just like Mr. Liberty."

    "Got it in one," Jimmy nodded as he swung his legs out, groaning as he stood and the blood rushed to his head for a second. "Can't just be sitting around, anyhow. We've got to keep up the work here on Meinhoff."

    "Actually, Jim," Doc moved with him as he stood, her hand slipping up to his shoulder before finally dropping down to her side, "We just finished a few hours ago."

    He blinked.

    "What?"

    "According to Yuriko and Captain Horner, we've fully distributed everything. Every scrap of food, every drop of water, every barrel of fuel, has been given out. The refugees are evacuating the planet en masse," she said with a broad smile.

    At once, his heart felt light and oddly heavy. On the one hand, they had just done the impossible, something that it should have taken a stellar nation's resources and effort to pull off. Hundreds of millions, possibly billions, would be helped to safety by what they had done here in a week. But then, it hadn't just been the Raiders, had it? It had been MannCo, with all those ships, all those supplies, and Yuriko managing to coordinate it all with Matt, as if she had a direct line to every ship and its contents, somehow. The almost peaceful, invigoratingly pure work of helping people was over. And now the war, the revolution, waited.

    "Well…now I really can't just be sitting around," he chuckled as he began walking, though he did stop over Rodriguez's bed, the smile on his face slipping. "Heck of a pilot, you know?" He glanced over at the doctor.

    "I've heard the tales. Yuriko even offered to spring for total cybernetic replacement, or full organic," Doc said, surprising Jimmy. "Well, MannCo, not Yuriko personally. I've got no idea what her personal accounts might look like. We're waiting for Miss Rodriguez to wake up to ask consent, however."

    "Huh," Jimmy rubbed at his chin. "Kind of them, I suppose…wait," he paused, looking at Doc as she prepared to speak once more. "Let me guess. MannCo is offering to pay for full workovers for everyone who got hurt, or even do it themselves."

    Doc smiled and nodded.

    "I was surprised too, but Yuriko only brought it up when the supplies were all fully doled out. If their offer is good…while there haven't actually had any deaths amongst the Raiders since Mar Sara -,"

    Jimmy's head jerked back. Was that even possible? He'd been fighting against Mengsk for four years, and seen too many good boys and girls die. Against zerg, protoss, and the Dominion, that didn't seem right at all. He swore he'd heard something similar earlier, but it somehow hadn't quite clicked. Maybe it was because he'd been drunk at the time and wasn't sure if he'd heard right. But Doc Hanson had kept talking, so he shook his head and focused.

    "- that doesn't mean there hasn't been injuries, some of them quite crippling."

    "Well, if they give their consent, it's their choice and their right to request help," he decided, "MannCo or otherwise."

    "That's wonderful news," Doc tucked a lock of hair past her ear as she smiled again.

    "Maybe," he agreed, "You need anything else from me Doc?"

    "Other than, again, a recommendation for more bedrest, no," she smirked and shook her head. "Stay safe, Jim."

    "Yeah, well, we'll see," he ran a hand down his face as he walked out back into the Hyperion.

    The feeling in the ship was almost electric, now. There had always been a sense of quiet desperation, it came with the territory with being a single ship of rebels against the Dominion, of exhaustion and worry, but for once Jimmy couldn't find a hint of it. Because here, now, they had done unequivocable good. No spilling of blood, no harsh screams and battle cries, just doing good work and hearing the cheers and adulation of the masses. Even though everyone on the ship knew that Mengsk used propaganda freely as a premier weapon against them, it undeniably took a toll to spend literal years getting yelled at about being monsters and terrorists and the like. Not today though. Not today.

    "Commander," Matt greeted him as he entered the bridge, the Captain of the Hyperion briefly coming to attention as he did so.

    "All hail Mr. Hero," Tychus drawled as he puffed on a cigar, his armor quietly whirring as he shifted his weight.

    "Raynor," Yuriko lifted her chin towards him, her arms crossed across her chest as she sat in a chair, her legs propped up against the star map's projector table.

    Some cold and quiet managed to stab its way through the effervescent feeling he'd gathered up on his walk over, the entire time having waved and shook hands or clapped shoulders or backs with his own. Because he had seen Zeratul's memories. Ulaan. Zhakul. Aiur. MannCo. He'd made a mistake of putting all his faith into a mysterious benefactor before. An ugly rush of rage filled him as he considered, as he did at least once a day, the bastard Emperor on Korhal. It was a mistake, he knew, to even think about comparing MannCo to the Sons of Korhal, especially as Yuriko's easygoing smirk twisted into something flat and unamused, her faintly glowing eyes boring straight into his own.

    "Matt, Tychus, Yuriko," he nodded to each of them in turn, stopping on the psychic, frown growing on his face. "Bears and poison, huh?"

    "Wrong poison," she agreed, getting a confused look from Matt and Tychus.

    Jimmy mulled his thoughts around, especially on the glowing, buzzing, quietly disturbing artifact pieces sitting in the labs. And on just who wanted the things, and why.

    "Is MannCo looking for a different one, then? Maybe something like some certain artifact pieces floating around?"

    That got a jump out of Tychus, the big man half-turning in his armor to look down at the psychic.

    "Not anymore," she sighed, holding her hands behind her head and waggling a foot back and forth, all while looking at the ceiling. "Different plan now."

    "Oh yeah?" He raised his eyebrows. "Care to elaborate?"

    Yuriko sighed and straightened, her legs coming down to thump against the floor, the seat squeaking as she propped her arms on her thighs.

    "Yeah. New plan is the old plan: get another bear to kill the bear," she shook her head and smiled wryly.

    "Uh huh," Jimmy said slowly before shaking his head and looking back towards the map.

    "Should I…ask what's going on?" Matt asked, looking between the two.

    "You can ask, Matt, but I doubt you'll get a solid answer from her," Jimmy rolled his eyes and activated the map.

    There was, as ever, a multitude of messages flashing across the Korprulu Sector, either those broadcast on all channels or more discreetly, the latter being decrypted by their adjutant in real-time. Or at least as close to real-time as the adjutant could manage. But for actual potential missions, efforts, there was only the one at the moment. He stared at the still image for a moment before opening his mouth, then closing it, and looking amongst the three. He eventually settled on Tychus, his best friend's old words from back on Mar Sara coming back to him all at once.

    "So…anyone want to explain?" He pointed at the map. "Tychus?"

    "What? Naw, them Mobius boys ain't found the next artifact yet, ol' buddy. Plus, got rumor that the zerg might be sniffing around their main campus on in the Tyrador system, so…," Tychus spread his hands wide. "Nothing doin' just yet."

    "Plus, Colonel Orlan's still working on decrypting the Dominion network, apparently they've upgraded lately. Again," Matt huffed.

    "No, I mean, why is New Folsom on my map?" He jerked at thumb at the symbol, getting Tychus to do a double take as he re-examined it. "Don't tell me you were actually serious about breaking out of there or something?"

    "Heh, well-," Tychus reared up before Yuriko raised her hand high, still slouched forward.

    "That one's mine," she said before looking up at him.

    "Yuriko?" Jimmy stared at her, confused.

    "With the Dominion combining and redeploying their fleets all over the place, New Folsom's gotten a little light on defenses," she offered, standing up to lean forward against the star map. "Worst prison in the Dominion, but it's vulnerable…for now," she shrugged. "It's a choice. MannCo is, as per usual, offering hefty pay."

    Jimmy opened his mouth, but Tychus beat him to it.

    "To smash a prison for money? To smash New Folsom for money?" Tychus' excitement was almost childlike. "Hell yes," he turned to Jimmy. "C'mon, man, we'd be legends for that kind of prison break!"

    "Now hold on," Jimmy held up a hand, glaring at Tychus to calm him down before looking archly at Yuriko. "What in the hell does MannCo have to do with breaking open New Folsom?"

    Yuriko raised an eyebrow.

    "The vast majority of current Dominion prisoners in New Folsom aren't violent offenders, Raynor. Did you know that?" She tilted her head to the side, looking amongst the three men. "There are two concentrated, heavily packed military prisoner wings, and some other specialized cell blocks, but the majority are a far cry from what once filled New Folsom in the Confederacy days."

    Matt caught on the fastest.

    "You're talking about dissidents," the Captain said, eyes suddenly bright with eagerness, his entire face seeming to lift with it. "The free thinkers, the political opposition, everyone who ever raised their voice against the Emperor's regime and wasn't killed for it outright," he began speaking faster and faster.

    "Philosophers. Scientists," Yuriko provided. "I won't lie, there are some who deserve to stay in New Folsom, but thankfully," she tapped her temple, "We have a bit of an advantage when it comes to sorting out the good from the bad. Plus, who knows, maybe you'll get some new recruits out of it, Raynor?"

    At that, Matt blinked and stepped back, rubbing at the back of his head.

    "If they do, that might have to be it for a while. The Hyperion is a roomy ship, but with the volunteers from Agria joining us, as well as those from the Meinhoff refugees…," the Captain paused and rolled the thought around in his head. "I'm not sure if the ship's ever been this full of Raiders."

    Those who'd been in the Raiders longer, not just Jimmy and Matt, but the rest of the bridge crew as well, all paused in everything they were doing as they contemplated that.

    "Any further and we'd start having to double bunk and purchase far more supplies to maintain upkeep on our forces," Matt continued, still a bit mystified at the reality of the situation.

    "Well good news," Yuriko waved a hand around in the air. "Beyond the cash payment for shattering New Folsom is a trio of upgraded Hercules-class transport ships that were designed by Stetmann and Swann, built for transport, livability, and durability."

    All three men scrutinized her.

    "Didn't those two just finish finalizing that design only a little while ago? The extra Hercules ships that you loaned to help carry the Agria colonists were just standard issue, weren't they?" Matt questioned, getting a shrug from Yuriko.

    "Yes, and yes," she sniffed before looking between Matt and Jimmy. "So? Are we doing it or not?"

    Jimmy frowned and drank a bit of whiskey from his flask, tapping out a cigarette after he did so.

    "If we're doing this, you better have a plan," he murmured as he lit the cig and looked Yuriko in the eyes. "So…sell me on it."

    Yuriko bared her teeth.
     
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    • 109 - Breaking In, Shaping Up
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    • 109 - Breaking In, Shaping Up​

    The Hyperion hung in the darkness between stars and planets, an insignificant dot amongst the infinite. Alongside it were the ships carrying the colonists of Agria, the final decision still yet to be made as to where they would end up, whether the Umojan Protectorate or one of the other fringe worlds out in the Korprulu Sector. For now, the various colony ships and additional MannCo transports huddled close, a considerable number of wraiths and vikings performing some relaxed but defensive screening. Time behind the controls was important, after all. Jimmy watched it all from the bridge, calmly smoking a cigarette. Tychus was nearby as well, curious about their soon-to-arrive guests, and said curiosity had brought out Swann and Stetmann from their respective haunts on the ship. In fact, the entire tight core that made up the highest echelons of Swann's engineers had shown up too, following their stout leader up to the bridge. Matt stood waiting, arms folded smartly behind his back, the Captain of the Hyperion carefully scrutinizing various screens. Doc Hanson hadn't come, busy down in the sick ward, much to her apparent regret.

    Yuriko stood apart from them all, leaning forward against a console, her eyes on the stars outside.

    "So…," Tychus drawled, "What, we just wait here and-,"

    Sound might not travel in space, by the traditional understandings of physics and science, but light most certainly did. There was a blinding flash of blue and white as another ship emerged from warp at far too close a distance to be comfortable. Klaxons blared out as it appeared, as well as proximity alarms and collision warnings, leaving the bridge drenched in flashing red light and loud, at least before a few shouted commands from Matt had them shut back down as the ship hadn't actually taken any action aside from its arrival. It hung close enough to see, a scant distance away from the Hyperion, close enough for Jimmy to frown at the sight of what he could see of it.

    "Eesh, what a piece of junk!" Swann said, cringing back slightly at it, something many of the engineers shared.

    It was a battlecruiser, only it wasn't the sort he'd been expecting. Up until now, the few MannCo battlecruisers he'd sort of seen had been glossy black and grey things, their profiles and strange senor baffling confusing the Hyperion's scans. The thing in front of him was an old, creaky, and possibly radioactively leaky Leviathan-class. Not a single one remained in active service against any major military force, given just how painfully outdated they were these days. Still, even Yamato cannon several years out of date could still do a lot of damage. The entire ship looked badly painted over, patch jobs visible even to Jimmy's eyes across much of the ship, welded plates and scars evident across the superstructure. In fact, as it spun sluggishly, he could see that half the engines were barely flickering. A massive anarchy symbol had been painted near the head, possibly hundreds of gallons of paint used to make it visible at such a distance.

    "Wait a minute, isn't…is that a Scions of Anarchy ship?" Matt's expression screwed itself up as he examined the scans coming in, "But…the scans are returning…hmm."

    "That ol' heap of junk is supposed to help us crack New Folsom?" Tychus sneered, "Thought MannCo had deeper pockets than that."

    "We do," Yuriko called as she spun on her heel, descending the steps to stand in front of the star map, looking amongst the crew that were now staring at her. "You need to learn to see past appearances," she smirked as she manipulated the controls to contact the ship which had remained silent up until now.

    The outgoing communication request beeped only once before it was accepted, and a new image came to life, one which drew quite a few looks at the person now on the screen. Jimmy's eyebrows rose high indeed as he stared at them. Whoever he was, he stood as big, possibly bigger, than Tychus when the big man was out of his armor. Dark brown skin was visible across a tremendously muscled chest and abdomen, revealed thanks to an unbuttoned and massive admiral's greatcoat, if one tremendously stylized with gaudy amounts of gold and silver. A thick beard shot down past the neck, spiked out into five places, at the bottoms of which were large golden caps with engraved artwork. Atop his head was an enormous tricorn hat, one with three white feathers. His eyes were a molten gold but were barely visible beneath the shadow cast by his hat.

    "Yuriko, me friend," he boomed in an indeterminable accent, a grin revealing a set of perfect white teeth splitting his lips. "So long has it been since I doth did see you last!"

    "We talked, literally, yesterday," Yuriko rolled her eyes before turning to the side so that the camera could now fully show Jimmy and the rest.

    "And yet, it does me heart good to see you with me own two eyes," the man boasted before looking at the others. "And I do see some other folks as well. The infamous James Raynor, the estimable Egon Stetmann, the brilliant Rory Swann, the incorrigible Tychus Findlay!" He called each man out in turn, getting some looks back.

    Tychus, of course, looked mightily pleased by the words used.

    "Hello there," Jimmy lifted his chin, letting his cig burn in his hand as he lowered it to his side. "And…you are?"

    The huge man's eyes bugged out and he slapped a mammoth hand to his face, shaking his head and stepping back slightly.

    "Of course! Of course, that is my mistake, one of excitement and exuberance," he said before bowing fully, doffing his hat temporarily to reveal that he was bald before straightening again and putting his hat back on with another toothy grin. "My name be Mann, of MannCo."

    Jimmy dropped his cigarette at about the same time that Tychus' cigar came dangerously close to falling out of his mouth. The bridge of the Hyperion was left silent for a moment save for Yuriko's long-suffering sigh.

    "You're…," Jimmy paused, blinking rapidly as he looked the man…er, Mann, up and down again. "You're Mann?"

    "Creator, founder, originator," Mann inclined his head again, "Of MannCo, yes."

    There was another silence as various minds worked to process what they were seeing, all of them going back and grasping at their initial expectations a bit.

    "Are you a pirate?" Egon asked before anyone else could say anything. "Are you…wait, that ship is a Scions of Anarchy ship, but-,"

    "I am, on occasion, yes," Mann interrupted with a chuckle, "And no, it isn't."

    "Well…wait, what?" The scientist tilted his head to the side.

    "Stop playing around Mann," Yuriko groaned.

    "Ah, fair enough," Mann smirked before doing something that they couldn't see.

    What everyone did see, however, was the ship bearing the symbols of the Scions of Anarchy disappear in a shimmering wave of light. What was on the other side of that wave was closer to what Jimmy had been expecting. It was still battlecruiser shaped, but this time it looked far more modern. Possibly as modern as the new Dominion ships, possibly more so. While Jimmy's eyes widened a bit and Tychus whistled, the reaction from the engineers and Stetmann was a bit different. Their eyes had bugged out, some pushing forward until they were almost against the glass, others having outright stolen the seats of the bridge crew working the scanner and diagnostics banks.

    "What. Was. That." Swann said flatly before whirling about faster than someone of his frame would be expected to towards Yuriko and the screen still showing Mann. "What was that!? Look, theoretical stealth fields on battlecruisers is one thing, but that's light refraction and dampening, but that – that shouldn't…Kachinsky, what were the scans saying!"

    The younger engineer scrambled a moment, squinting at the screens.

    "Uh…they were a bit confused there boss, but they were definitely returning some dimensions they shouldn't have, if it's…if that's what it's supposed to look like?"

    "A total confusing of the visual spectrum," Stetmann breathed out slowly. "But on such a scale…"

    Jimmy glanced at the ship, then back at Yuriko and Mann, and rubbed at his temple once before reaching down to pick his cigarette back up.

    "Okay…now your plan to distract the guards at New Folsom makes a bit more sense," he mused, getting an approving look from Yuriko and another smile from Mann.

    "Oh? Do you be having an idea of what we're about then, Mister Raynor?" Mann raised an eyebrow.

    "Just guessing here," Jimmy waved his cig around, "But the Hyperion thought that was a Scions of Anarchy ship."

    Swann came back to himself, as did some of the engineers, though Stetmann had progressed to fully pressing his face flat against the glass.

    "Correct," Mann said calmly.

    "And the Hyperion has some of the best scanners and sensors in the Sector, courtesy in fact of you folks," Jimmy pointed at him with the cig.

    "Go on…," Mann rolled his hand through the air, still amused.

    "So I'm betting the Dominion's ships over New Folsom might have about the same success, or less," Jimmy concluded.

    "Correct!" Mann laughed, hands going to his hips as he guffawed.

    "Now that's a hell of a trick," Tychus drawled as he puffed on his cigar, "So, what, you gonna make them think you're a Dominion ship too, scoot on in there and get the drop on them?"

    "Visual tricks aside, being in the middle of several enemy battlecruisers is not necessarily going to help the Hyperion get to landing its troops," Mann shook his head. "No, what we're going to do is make them chase the Hyperion."

    Jimmy frowned as did Swann and several others.

    "You wanna expand on that, Mann?" Jimmy narrowed his eyes.

    "Of course. But first, I must ask permission. Might I scan your ship, Mister Raynor, Captain Horner?" He glanced between the two.

    "Why?" Jimmy asked.

    "To expand on it, of course," Mann replied, lips quirking.

    Jimmy glanced at Matt, who shrugged. It wasn't like the Hyperion hadn't been scanned thousands of times before, both by allies and enemies. Automatic bots at ports and the like partook in such things as well.

    "…sure," Jimmy squinted.

    A single, tight white beam came from the MannCo ship next, passing across the entire Hyperion over the course of a few seconds. Then there was another flash, one which got gasps from several of the crew who were watching. Jimmy damn near dropped his cig again when he stared at what had happened. The MannCo ship had disappeared, just as the previous Scions of Anarchy ship had. Instead, everyone present beheld nothing less than the Hyperion. Another Hyperion, hanging in the void, looking for all intents and purposes like a perfect copy. Every gun, every extra piece of plating, all of it. Who knew what was going on in the inside, but outwardly, it was undeniably the Hyperion. A few seconds passed and then even its IFF signal became that of the Hyperion's as well.

    "Sweet mother of mercy," Tychus said softly, cigar smoke billowing out of his mouth, shaking his head at the sight.

    "You see, Mister Raynor," Mann rubbed vigorously at his chin. "We're going to give them the Hyperion. Or at least, a Hyperion. And when they come running, you and yours can slip past them down to the planet to go after the garrison and prison proper."

    "It could work," Jimmy said, mind now beginning to race with possibilities. "But what'll you do if their whole squadron comes down on you? You'll be entirely outnumbered."

    "Don't worry about that," Yuriko piped up, nonchalance in every word. "MannCo will handle their part; you handle yours."

    "Yeah, just…beat our way through the literal army of guards to reach the prison," Jimmy grunted. "And then somehow sort the prisoners, right?"

    "We'll have that part covered, Mister Raynor," Mann said, "We've already got spectres on the ground, they'll help when the time comes. Plus, you've got the ones you've got a contract with as well!"

    In truth, Jimmy didn't much like the idea of psychically investigating the thoughts of people, it was exactly the sort of invasive thing that the Confederacy and Dominion was all too happy to do. At least it wasn't just normal citizens, and instead just trying to figure out which of the prison's inmates were going to need to stay in there. Jimmy had done a lot of things in the fight against Mengsk. Letting loose psychopaths and rapists or whatever else was not going to be one of them if he could help it.

    "Ah…yeah. Right. Well…when are we doing this?"

    "Why, whenever you're ready, Mister Raynor," Mann smiled broadly again.

    =====================================================================
    ​
    "Okay. Here's how this is going to go," Jimmy called out to the rest of his raiders as he got onto the Fanfare. "Mann is gonna drop by New Folsom in his fake Hyperion, draw the enemy fleet out of formation. When they go chasing after him, we'll drop in ourselves. Already have a nice little landing zone on a plateau just outside the prison complex proper."

    "Sounds good, Commander," Big Ben called, the large woman's medic armor by now completely covered in stylings and painted symbols. "I heard some more of them 'spectres' are gonna be fighting with us too, huh?"

    "Oh, just a few, dear," another woman spoke up, getting the Mar Saran to jump so badly in her armor she nearly hit the ceiling.

    Several other marines twitched and moved aside as the spectre Joyce, or more commonly the shortened 'Joy' slipped out of invisibility. The usual black and purple colors of MannCo was highly contrasted by the blue and white of the Raiders, but once everyone registered that it was in fact Joy they relaxed somewhat. Not entirely, it was impossible to do that around the spectres, but Joy was the nicest of them. Most of the others were somewhat approachable, save for Brex. No one liked Brex, not even Joy. She waved and wiggled her fingers at Jimmy, who nodded back to her.

    "Our fellow spectres have been doing intelligence gathering on New Folsom for a while now," Joy continued, "Hardpoints, soft locations, prisoner blocks, and preliminary weeding out of those who shouldn't even make it out of their cells," the normally cheerful psychic's voice dipped at the very end.

    "Right," Jimmy nodded. "Should be easy then, huh?"

    "Well, maybe," Joy shrugged. "Depends on how bored Tosh got. He's had a lot of time to turn this place into a house of cards, just waiting for someone to blow it over."

    "Guess we'll find out," Jimmy sniffed and looked up to the rest of the marines and medics. "Once we hit the ground, we're pushing all the way to the end, got it? If you get hit, and go down, you'll get pulled back to safety, by other than that it's all the way, right?"

    "Right!" Several of the Raiders cheered.

    "Hell yeah," Jimmy smiled before firming his expression while turning on his comms. "Matt, we good to go yet?"

    "Just about, Commander," the Captain replied quietly, his focus clearly on his work. "Mann was right, they're already on his tail. With signals being jammed, they can't call for help and…okay, window's coming up."

    "Okay!" Jimmy called, "Drop time is coming up, so get ready boys and girls! New Folsom's guards are supposed to be rough, tough, and buff! But what are we gonna make 'em?"

    "Dead, dead, and dead!" The Raiders called back.

    There was a sudden shift, all of them forced to brace for a second as the true Hyperion dropped out of warp. Immediately, the already active engines of the Fanfare shot them out of the hangar bay at speeds enough that some of the marines were partially bowled over. The change from void to atmosphere was almost as immediate, the outside of the dropship surely covered in an orange-red glow.

    "Jezz, Merrick," Jimmy called to the pilot, "You're that eager, huh?"

    "Yeah, well, they've got a pretty potent defense grid, commander, plenty of AA, and-," Merrick cut himself off.

    Jimmy pushed his way to the fore, leaning into the cockpit.

    "Merrick, what's wrong? What happ…ened."

    Down below on the planet, in the sprawling military base which sat atop and around the New Folsom prison, were explosions. Mushroom clouds reached up all across the base, in multiple locations. The warning signals for nuclear explosions filled Merrick's screens before he wiped them aside, letting both pilot and Jimmy to see that the scans showed precisely zero anti-air emplacements left within a good couple of miles of their destination. There were also some on-sight factories and barracks that had similarly suffered such fates, as well as a few aerial maintenance facilities as well. The entire grid was lit up with distress calls, panic, and more, and after a moment Jimmy let a few pipe in by way of the adjutant doing some decryption.

    "What the fuck!"

    "We're under attack!"

    "Who is it, who is it!?"

    "I can't reach the base commander, does anyone have contact with Colonel-,"

    A single transmission was directed towards Jimmy's dropship, even as it reached the previously designated drop zone.

    "Who is this," Jimmy asked immediately as he accepted the request.

    "Just a spectre," a man's deep drawl answered him, the syllables drawing out with what sounded like a Haji accent. "Doing some spectre's work – causing some chaos. Those were the last of our explosives, Mister Raynor, so you're going to have to do the rest of this the hard way. But don't worry…the spectres will be helping you the whole time."

    "Sounds like someone got impatient waiting," Joy butted into the channel, her voice a singsong. "It was barely a week, Tosh."

    "A week away from my baby girl, from my son," the now identified Tosh huffed, the dark menace in his voice fading for something more tiredly annoyed. "Kath don't need to be doin' it all alone."

    "You didn't have to lead the mission, either," Joy said, a bubbly laugh still in her voice. "What, the two of you being psychics and you still can't tell when that child's gonna start crying in the night? Methinks mister spooky daddy spectre wanted some time away before realizing he wanted to go right back."

    Tosh's response was a terribly exasperated sigh.

    "Look, Raynor, the Dominion knows you're coming for them now, they've spotted your ships. Best get ready for them to come charging out. We really knocked over the ant's nest for this one."

    "Sounds like a plan," Jimmy chuckled as the transmission cut off before looking at the shorter Joy. "Should you really be riling him up like that?"

    "Probably not," Joy said cheerfully, before continuing in the same tone. "But let's go kill some people now, huh?"

    Less than sixty seconds later, they were doing just that. Even with their anti-air blown to pieces, their radar systems sabotaged, and their power cut, the guards of New Folsom were some of the best troops in the Dominion. Only the best for the Emperor's hated political enemies, after all. The approach of so many dropships, wraiths, banshees, and vikings was unmistakably loud and noticeable, even on a volcanic planet with its constant eruptions and magma flow. The Raiders had rushed out of their ships and prepared themselves for the first wave of furious Dominion troops charging up to meet them. It started with just marines and a few hellions, but rapidly escalated after that.

    "Come on, come on and die, hahahaha!" Tychus boomed as he pushed forward, his repaired Sweet Thang shredding anyone and anything that he pointed it at.

    More than once, the big man's preference to be in the thick of it turned against him, getting him shot here and there before a medic could reach him and patch him up, but never once did Tychus actually fall down or stop firing his weapon. Though even he had to duck out of the way of an incoming bombardment by siege tanks. Siege tanks, Jimmy shook his head at the sight of them, just for guarding a prison. Thankfully, there was the terrifying shriek of EMP missiles which flew out of nowhere and struck each of the tanks down, one after another, as the Raiders advanced. Shortly afterwards, some of the munin that were being piloted by engineers back on the Hyperion confirmed that there were spectres moving about via the highly advanced sensors loaded onto the machines.

    He didn't miss the irony of MannCo tech being the only reason they could locate the MannCo operatives on the battlefield, but Jimmy had more to worry about than just that. New Folsom wasn't just any prison. Despite no one having ever successfully escaped from it before, the Confederates had built the prison with a surprising amount of pragmatism and more than a little bit of excess as had been their wont. Mengsk had only added to that after taking over.

    "Damn, look at this," Jimmy muttered as he hunched over the screens in the command center. "Hell, Mengsk, this can't have all been for me, can it?"

    Multiple armed checkpoints, factories to service and produce further vehicles on demand, and a frankly ridiculous amount of troops were trying their absolute hardest to beat back the Raiders. More than once, it almost looked like they could have managed it, forming battleline after battleline, demanding buckets of Dominion blood to be spilled for each inch. Unfortunately for the Dominion, though, the Raiders just kept coming. Whoever the enemy commander was, they were just a tad bit inflexible. To the point that Jimmy was able to continually deploy auto-turrets from the munin craft ahead of his troops to soak enemy fire, pull back his troops to rest and recover with the medics as needed, all the while the MannCo spectres kept lobbing EMPs and some majorly powerful explosives right into the enemy. And if at any point it seemed like things were getting just a bit too difficult, the sheer mass of the enemy starting to tell, Jimmy would get a familiar notification from the adjutant.

    "Multiple nuclear launches detected."

    And mushroom clouds sprung up all the way down the lane.

    "Adjutant, can you track the origination point from those missiles?" Jimmy asked idly, as he continued issuing orders, eye flicking to the holographic image of the adjutant to his left.

    "Scans indicate arrival of nuclear missiles from an unknown, elevated location," it answered after a few seconds. "Below cloud layer, but…above any known artificial or natural points of geological stability for launchpads," it said with a note of quiet confusion.

    Normally, that sort of thing would have screwed with Jimmy.

    "They got a stealth ship or something," he immediately concluded. "One that the munin aren't seeing, and none of our other sensors either. With some kind of crazy stealth tech they won't share."

    "Logging speculation," the adjutant declared, making Jimmy double take at it.

    It was a modern adjutant, fully artificial instead of a cybernetic mixture like the old ones, like the Confederate one they'd found on Tarsonis. All the same, Jimmy squinted at the machine and at what could have been petulance in its tone.

    "Head's up, Raynor," Tosh's voice came across the comm, "The first major military prisoner wing is coming up on the right, just across that bridge."

    He scanned the cameras, the viewpoints provided by the floating munin, finding the right one across a short bridge of neosteel, concrete, and stone.

    "I got eyes on it, Tosh. You MannCo boys got a plan for it?"

    Even as Jimmy spoke, however, he watched it go into action. Even from here, the sight of the spherical grenades that MannCo's spectres employed were being thrown into the squads of marines, while EMP rockets slammed into the three goliaths and two siege tanks guarding the wing. A small bit of manipulation of the munin's camera let him watch as several spectres uncloaked and fell upon the vehicles, tearing their way to the innards with booms from their rifles and outright frightening displays of psychic fury. All it took to wipe out a considerable minor garrison was a few seconds.

    "Yes, we did," Tosh said after a moment back through the comm, now slightly out of breath. "We'll keep an eye out here, wean out those who should stay and those who shouldn't. But more than that…here, got some codes I think your adjutant will find useful."

    "Access granted to Dominion vehicle depot," the Adjutant announced, clicking and whirring.

    Jimmy's eyes widened.

    "Holy hell…," he murmured as he read through the data coming through. "And they just stored all these diamondbacks right next to the prisoners?"

    "Should help fill the holds of the Hyperion quite nicely, I think," Tosh chuckled deeply. "There's another depot right next to the other wing too. See you there, huh?"

    =====================================================================
    ​
    The bridge of the Thermopylae was strewn with blood, smoke, and spent shells. Black-armored MannCo marines stood still as the entire bridge crew glared up at me from their knees, forced there by more svelte looking troopers. Aside from some scratches on the paint of the marines, some splashes of blood from their enemies, and the smoke from the barrel of their guns, there was almost no sign at all that they had been in combat at all. They had been, of course, but the thing was, my most so-called elite troops were equipped far beyond the standard possibly by any other terran power. Or zerg. Or protoss.

    But standing there, looking at the rage and fury in crew's eyes, I couldn't help but think if maybe I could have just spared us all a lot of trouble and gotten rid of them the old-fashioned way. My old-fashioned way, at least. But no. That was a path I really, really didn't want to go down again. It was one of the big thought experiments from a long, long time ago, I guess. Strong enough to have the privilege of mercy, hopefully smart enough to employ it when you can. There was no desperation, no absolute need to kill a single one of them, not when I didn't need to. I couldn't tell them that though. Not when I'd given them the illusion of having a chance, trying to fight off our boarding parties every inch of the way. Some of them, given the nature of the Dominion under Arcturus Mengsk, probably didn't deserve that much.

    But I think that'll be something for Valerian to deal with.

    "You fought as hard as you could. Sorry it wasn't enough," I shrugged down at them.

    Multiple universes, and still quantum-crystalline alloys were some of the absolute near inviolable materials around. Enough that marine armor sheathed in the stuff instead of neosteel were essentially invulnerable, especially when the tertiary faceplate layer made of the stuff slid down to cover the glass.

    "Mengsk will come after you," the Captain – a relatively brutal man named Joseph Meyers – promised me.

    There was absolute murder in his eyes.

    "You think that your little company will survive the full might of the Dominion?! Once the Emperor learns of what you've done here, he'll tear you apart!"

    "He'll try," I corrected him. "And he's not going to know what happened here."

    Captain Meyers looked ready to rant some more, and in fact did so, but I was paying attention to the rest of the remaining bridge crew. Some of them were as loyal and dedicated as him. Others, maybe a bit less. I wasn't sure if it would matter. Or if it should. I let Meyers get it out, flickering the vast majority of my attention back to New Folsom itself. The Raiders were well on their way, practically to the last bastion already. Both of the military wings had been secured, and the siege tanks and diamondbacks within the depots claimed. The sheer amount of salvage war material gained here would be more than enough to fully equip the Hyperion and its ground vehicle corps.

    A motion from Meyers drew me back, and I let loose a sigh as I pushed him back down from where he'd tried to rise.

    "You aren't going to die. But I can't let you tell the Dominion anything, not right now. So you're going to have to go away for a while. All of you."

    Then I triggered the transport beams from my stealthed ships and whisked away the thousands of Dominion crewmembers to their chrono-locked holds. A few hours of FTL and they'd be at a prison planet of my own. Just for a while. I'd have to see what happened with Valerian before I released them back to the Dominion. Really, I'd probably end up just having to put more effort into keeping them from killing themselves more than anything else. There was approximately no chance at all for them to overpower their guards, or to escape from where they were going with the resources they would have.

    "You think I should have just killed them?" I asked my best friend.

    "…no. We didn't need to, not really," Yuriko shook her head. "Maybe Valerian will end up convincing them, maybe not, but we didn't need to."

    I didn't really need to exhale, not really, but it felt right to do so, the noise a bit more of a shudder to it than I intended.

    "Right. Okay."

    "Woah, what the hell are those?" I heard Jimmy call on the radio.

    Well, he wasn't calling me in particular, but I was absolutely listening in. A glance at Yuriko had her nod and call in.

    "Those are thors, Raynor, combat walkers the Dominion is slow rolling out. Be careful, let us take care of them."

    "Thors?! What the hell-,"

    "Later, Raynor," Yuriko switched channels and let Raynor sputter. "Tosh, no more playing around. Full spread."

    "Oh, we done letting the Raiders blood themselves, huh?" Tosh answered sardonically, probably even rolling his eyes as he said it.

    "Pretty much," Yuriko sniffed and switched back to Raynor. "Pull your Raiders back for a second, Raynor, they've done enough."

    "…fine, but I want more info on these things if we're going to be seeing more of them."

    "Fair enough," she shrugged. "They're going to start proliferating more and more, but they're a bit slow and clunky for how strong they can be. Also able to deploy all those cannons on their backs for heavy concentrated bombardments. I think the first one was deployed…a year or two ago?"

    "Well," Raynor's response was a bit washed out in static for a moment as the nukes hit. "Guess they're not tough enough to survive that though."

    "No, they're not," Yuriko chuckled.

    I let them talk, leaning back against a wall. It was…nice, to see Yuriko smile as she snarked at the man. Despite her best efforts, she hadn't really made any friends in the Umojan Protectorate. And she really had tried for a while there. But the Shadowguard, the Academy, just hadn't been able to reciprocate like she'd hoped. But the Raiders, rough and tumble as they were, a little crazy here and there, were managing it. Which is, honestly, exactly what I was hoping for. Say what you will about the whims of the universe, or creation, the fact of the matter is that they're good people.

    So I sat back and just watched. The fighting was over anyway.

    =============================================================================
    ​
    "Fifty years, and no one's ever escaped from New Folsom…but we took it apart in an hour," Jimmy murmured as he looked down at the planet, his arms crossed.

    Of the Dominion ships, there was no longer any sign. MannCo had taken them, or maybe they'd just plunged them into the sun to get rid of them. Either way, the only ships left in orbit were Raider ships and various MannCo transports. Somehow, who knew how, the spectres had managed to process the entire prison population with their telepathy in a shockingly small amount of time, and now they were leaving less than a tenth of the prisoners behind. Everyone else was getting to leave. The majority of the two military wings, former Confederates, a chunk of disloyal Dominion, and even a few UED had already requested to join up, a request Jimmy had agreed to.

    "It shouldn't have been so easy to pull off. Without MannCo…," Matt said as he joined him at the window, hands folded behind his back. "Another battle without taking any Raider losses. It's…remarkable, to say the least."

    There was an audible flare of electricity and psionics as Yuriko Thirteen uncloaked behind them, leaning against the star map with a smirk on her face.

    "Remarkable is a word for it, yeah," she raised an eyebrow, chuckling. "Isn't that a good thing, Horner?"

    "Of course," Matt turned about, walking over to the star map and clicking a button to release the list of names and profiles of the freed prisoners, glancing them over. "But something tells me MannCo could have done this on their own," he turned to look at her. "But you didn't. You had us do it. Risked our people."

    "What do you want me to say, Horner, that we wanted to make sure your troops were blooded?" Yuriko leaned back before straightening. "Because that's obvious. Besides, isn't this what you wanted? To be able to strike hard against Mengsk? Hit him where it hurts?"

    "It's not about just…killing people and blowing up ships," Matt shook his head. "Our revolution is about more than that."

    "I know," Yuriko looked at him, face twisted with confusion. "You're fighting for a better tomorrow. Freedom and all that. I mean, look at them," she gestured at the list. "Free thinkers. Scientists. Philosophers. Voices that Mengsk chose to lock up rather than silence with a knife or gun."

    "All out of the goodness of MannCo's heart," Raynor snorted as he walked away from the window, tilting his head as he lit up another cigarette. "Right?"

    Yuriko pursed her lips and sighed, shaking her head with her hands on her hips.

    "You've got it all wrong, Raynor," she glanced at Jimmy and then at Matt, something cold and hard in her eyes before it slipped away. "We aren't doing this for us. We're doing it for them," she gestured at the list. "We're helping you because you're you. Goodness in our hearts," she snorted, picking up her helmet with her mind and floating it over to her hands, where she looked down at its featureless face. "No. But for the goodness in yours? Yeah."

    She slipped her helmet on, a quiet hum emerging as it slotted into the rest of her armor.

    "There's gotta be more to it than that," Jimmy crossed his arms again, scoffing lightly. "That ain't the way the universe works."

    "You're right," Yuriko shrugged. "It isn't how this universe works. Rest up, you two. Revolution isn't over just yet, mmm?"

    Then her stealth field activated, and both doors to the bridge activated at the same time, probably with mild telekinetic force as she headed out. Jimmy and Matt shared a look before both men sighed simultaneously, Matt reaching over to click the display back to off.
     
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