Strategic Chaos

A/N: Hello, and welcome to my first published fanfiction of FFNet. I am Twilit Storm, and I would like to start off by saying no, not that Twilight. For the record, helpful reviews will be accepted. Constructive criticism is fine. Crude and unhelpful flames will be remembered for when I conquer this mudball and am in a position to throw you to the Swarm. Got it? Good.

A/N: This story is somewhat inspired by Abyssal Angel's 'New World, New Overmind'-which was in turn inspired by East Bridge's 'The Zerg Swarm'. Though I will be differentiating greatly from these, so no worries.

Well, that's all this author has to note right now, so let's get on with it.

BLANKET DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything copyrighted, nor will I in the foreseeable future. If this changes, you will doubtless have seen me winning the lottery on television anyways. This disclaimer to be considered to apply to all chapters of this non-profit fanfiction. Because I don't want to screw myself over missing one…..

Chapter 1: The Beginning

What, you thought we'd start elsewhere?

~~Perspective: First Person, ?~~

Over the centuries of mankind's evolution, despite all evidence pointing to it being impossible no matter what assassin-based science fiction says, certain inalienable facts have passed into the what can only be described as man's Genetic Memory-knowledge instinctively available to us when it is needed. Man code, for instance, or the translation of a shotgun cocking to the phrase "You're screwed!" This is how, on waking in a strange forest, in a strange land, to the light of a murderously bright strange sun, despite my severe headache and the fact I'd apparently blacked out and decided to nap in a forest, I knew that my migraine was nowhere near bad enough for me to be hungover. Of course, this did not stop me from groaning and throwing an arm over my face in self-defense; a migraine not being a hangover does not change the sun from being murderously bright.

That was about the time I realized that I had somehow wound up in an unknown forest instead of my 'Nerdtress of Solitude', or so my roommate calls it, and scrambled to my feet to look around. No path, no road, not even any kind of civilized engine noise-just grass, trees, and a little stream nearby. This I quickly ran over to, using the reflection to check myself over. Well, nobody had drawn on my face at least; same short dark hair, same blue eyes, same devilish good looks-if I say so myself. "Okay, Jack," I muttered to myself. "You are a gaming nerd in a strange land. What can you do to get the hell out of it?" I quickly patted myself down, idly noting that I was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a black T-shirt with red cuffs and collar as well as a purple Zerg symbol on it instead of the pajamas I went to bed in. Checking my pockets, I found them to contain but one necessity to my continued survival-breathable air. "Well, I'm screwed." I reached up to rub at my forehead. "No no, don't think like that, think happy thoughts." At least I haven't run into any lions or tigers or bears-oh, fuck what was that squeal behind me-

What do you know, even a wimpy nerd like me can teleport up a tree with enough motivation. Good to know. Looking down, I saw the terrifying creature that had sent me up the tree.

It resembled a brown, chitinous manta ray, with the 'wings' consisting mostly of a few short 'legs' that slowly waved, a red membrane stretched between them. It had a pair of 'arms' ending in large spikes, with smaller ones allowing them to serve as pincers, and centered between a pair of small spikes at the head of the beast was small mouth and far too many red eyes. My first thought at seeing it was that it could probably take down the tree I was hiding in. Then, as my eyes trailed to the Zerg symbol on my shirt-which, I belatedly noticed, was was accented in the same red as the thing's wing membranes-before returning to the creature fluttering softly as it hovered a few inches above the ground. Then a bit of curiosity entered my brain, I recognized it as belonging the the thing-no, the freaking Zerg Drone-in front of me, and I had a whole new set of problems to freak out about.

~~Perspective: Third Person, Jack's Tree~~

"Jack? Hey!" Jack looked up from where he'd cautiously knelt by the Drone, which seemed rather happy to have his attention, as a familiar face shoved its way through the branches.

"Roger! I don't suppose you have any idea how the hell we got here?" He glanced down. "Or how I somehow acquired a pet Zerg?"

Roger stood at six feet tall, decently built, with dirty blond hair and bright blue eyes. As he walked into the clearing, he was wearing pretty much the same thing as Jack was, though a blue-and-black Dominion symbol was on his chest instead of the zerg symbol and he had blue accents. He was also wearing a rather surprised look. "…Dude, don't those things eat people? And, like, everything else?"

Jack rolled his eyes-though long hours of work had somewhat 'corrupted' his pseudo-jock roommate into the Ways of the Nerd, and he'd even played a few Starcraft II matches, Roger could still be somewhat clueless at times. "Well, he hasn't eaten me yet, and Drones aren't the fighters anyway." He frowned. "…Also, I think I might be in charge of him." Jack cocked his head to the side. 'He's dressed the same as me, but a blue Dominion symbol…' "Hey, did you get a pet too when you woke up?" Jack did not like where this was going. Well, okay, part of me was letting out gleeful 'squees' at the thought of where this was going, but that part of me doesn't get to make decisions after the convention incident.

Roger blinked. "Uh…No, but I got a robot stalker." Sure enough, an SCV straight out of Starcraft II hovered into the field, stopping behind and to the left of Roger. "Looks like those guys out of Starcraft."

Jack frowned. "…Okay, we may have a problem."

"What, aside from being lost in a freaky forest?"

"Yeah. Guys in charge of factions in real-time strategy games generally have to go up against armies."

Roger blinked. "….That IS a problem." Another pause. "What the hell do we do if we have to deal with an army?"

Jack reached up to rub at his head. "Okay, okay, don't panic, start with surviving first. Um, things we need to survive….food, like we know where to get that out here, water, okay there's a stream, good, and shelter. How are we going to build a…." He looked at Roger's SCV. Then his own Drone. And then he looked up at Roger and smiled. "Your new pet take requests?"

~~First Person, Jack~~

Jack and I smiled, watching as the SCV worked. It had taken a bit of walking to find a clear area big enough to build in, but once we'd found one I thought would work and given the order the SCV had dropped some kind of round thing that had expanded into the familiar 'building' frame out of Starcraft II and started running around welding and cutting as it worked to build a Command Center. As it worked, I gave my own Drone an appraising look. While I was certain the little guy could morph into a Hatchery-I felt a tickle at the edge of my brain saying that yes, it could and would be glad to, in a way that was quickly becoming familiar and natural-I wasn't sure if I needed resources of some kind to make more drones afterward, or if I had a stockpile already somehow. Besides, I wanted to figure out more about how to command one little guy before trying to make an army. Glancing around, I quickly came up with an experiment and knelt down next to the little guy as Roger turned to see what I was doing. "Okay, uh, Drone. Cut down the trees around here to make more room." The Drone squealed and ran off, eager to please.

Roger frowned at me. "What are you having trees knocked down for, dude?"

I shrugged. "Part of it's needing more room if we want to build more stuff here, part of it's seeing what the little guy can do before I try and get more of him."

My roommate-basemate now, I guess-nodded. "Well, I guess the first part's a good idea, and maybe the second is good too, but I don't know that the little guy is going to be able to knock down any-" There was a tremendous crash behind him. "….trees."

I looked over at the Drone, which had just toppled a rather large tree, and smiled. "Good boy!" It-no no, he-let out a happy squeal and continued with his work. "Now," I muttered to myself, "I just need to figure out what we're going to do with all the trees."

A couple hours later, me and Roger looked away from my Drone's fine work toppling trees to find the Command Center was finished, the SCV hovering behind it and looking almost smug. If I didn't know better, I'd think-

I jolted, eyes wide, and turned to look at Roger. "In the game, SCVs have people inside."

After a brief moment, Roger's eyes widened in recognition and we ran over. "Hey, uh, SCV dude! Open up your suit!"

It paused for a moment, as if confused, and then the suit opened up, revealing….an empty chair surrounded by controls. I frowned. "Well, that's weird. Might be a good thing, though."

Roger frowned. "How? I thought we were going to be able to ask for directions home from someone." He glanced at the SCV. "Oh, uh, close back up." The SCV closed up and turned to hover around the Command Center.

I shrugged. "Well, we should be able to build more SCVs out of the Command Center, right? I don't think we'd be able to build more drivers if we needed them."

Roger nodded. "Okay, yeah, I guess that is a good thing. C'mon, let's check things out inside."

Walking in, we found ourselves in a small room consisting mostly of a small pit of some kind, with several odd slots on the wall. Looking it over, I nodded once. "Okay, looks like that's where the minerals get dropped off, and those slots-" I gestured to the walls. "-must be where the SCVs are loaded." There were two doors inside, too; one right in front of us, next to the slot where things were deposited, and one to the side with an arrow pointing up.

Roger walked over to the door in front of us, fumbling around the frame for a minute before finding a button that opened it. "Wow, that's a lot of robot parts."

Sure enough, the room beyond was full of various mechanical arms, all sitting idle towards the ceiling. A few panels with glowing blue words and images were also present. "This must be where SCVs get built, then," I mused. "But if all the gameplay things the game Command Center does are on this floor, then…"

Roger nodded; he did catch on to what I was thinking sometimes, despite our differences. "The command stuff must be upstairs." Leaving the SCV manufactory, we went through the other door and up a small staircase to find ourselves in quite possibly the most advanced room I have ever been in.

Sitting in the center was a raised, round dais of sorts, which was decorated with a glowing hologram of the area around the Command Center as we entered. The side of the room we entered from was faced by an array of high-tech computer consoles, all dark and offline, and when I glanced over my shoulder I saw that the staircase had brought us up in front of a large bay window, through which the forest was visible.

"Awesome!" At Roger's shout, I turned-

-and damn near fainted at the site of my clumsy roommate pulling a C-14 rifle, right out of the hands of a Terran Marine and likely full of ammo capable of tearing apart armored soldiers let alone puny meatsacks like me from a locker in the back. "Be careful with that thing!"

Roger rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, you baby. I'm not that bad."

"Roger, what happened to your last dozen pets?"

He winced and carefully put the rifle back into the locker. "Yeesh, okay, good point."

Sighing, I walked over to him; he was at one of two lockers, both double-wide and each on opposite sides of the room and next to rather Spartan beds. The locker was fairly tall, and certainly too big to store just one oversized gun. "Anything else in here?" Stepping to the side a little, Roger opened the other locker door and we started going through it.

"Huh, more shirts." I picked one up and almost dropped it when it changed to match the one I was wearing. "Gah! …Well, that's…. Handy, I guess." The shirt turned back into being just a plain black shirt as I put it back in the locker.

Roger poked a stack of neatly folded denim at the bottom left of the locker. "Pants, too." A small drawer was momentarily opened and then closed. "Yep, boxers. Well, clothes aren't going to be a problem."

I reached up and opened a compartment at the top of the locker. "Oh, look, MREs. I guess we're fed for…ah…a week, if we ration them." He glanced over his shoulder. "More if the other locker is stocked. …And I guess if we build another command center it might have the same stuff, so we might be good on survival."

Roger nodded. "Oh, yeah. …Hey, look!" He pulled out what looked like a big, army-style ammo can with an orange display on the side from the bottom right of the locker, directly under the rifle. "Ammo for the gun, apparently. That's good."

I frowned, looking up; there was one last compartment, above the gun and next to the MREs. "What's in here, then?" 'Please, God, Satan, and whatever else is listening, don't let it be grenades for this madman, I love him like a brother but he can't be trusted with a paintbrush let alone explosives…'

Roger popped the compartment open, oblivious to my prayers, and pulled out…a sleek silver headset, complete with microphone. Phew, no explosives-though Roger seemed disappointed. "What's the point of this?"

We both jumped as lights on the wall between the bunks snapped on and a tinny, feminine voice answered. "Mark III Command Headset allows for tactical remote command of army units, and communication with similar command hardware within range."

Turning, my jaw dropped as I realized what I was seeing. A feminine metal torso, built into the wall via a mass of wires, and watching us with a neutral, glowing blue pair of eyes. "An Adjutant…"

Roger stared at it for a moment, then grinned. "Robot lady helper, sweet!" He cleared his throat. "Adjutant, make me a sandwich."

"Unable to comply."

I whacked Roger over the head. "Come on, man, there's more important things at stake here!" I turned to look at the Adjutant, clearing my throat. "Adjutant, where are we?"

"Unknown."

"…Okay, where were we…ah…three days ago?" I figured we'd just woken up here after going to sleep all night, but who knows?

"Unknown."

"…Um. Where is the United States of America?"

"Democracy based nation, located on planet Earth."

"Good. How far away and in what direction?"

"Unknown." Damn. "Interstellar navigation offline." …Oh, double-no, triple damn.

Roger chipped in. "We're not on earth?"

The Adjutant nodded. "Correct."

I turned to look at him. "Well, that's not good…"

He frowned. "No kidding."

I sighed. "Okay, we might be able to work with this. I mean, sure, we're way out here, but we have the Zerg and…kinda sorta the Terrans under our command between the two of us, right? Both of them can do space travel, so we might be able to just build our armies up and get back there. I don't know what it takes to build a Zerg Leviathan, but we should be able to work our way up to a Terran Battleship, unless….Oh, that might not be good."

Roger frowned. "What might not be good?"

"In SC2 multiplayer, you just have to gather resources and build the stuff. In Campaign, you have to go through specific missions where you're either given a unit or plot steps in to give you a schematic." I gulped. "Adjutant, are schematics for a Minotaur-class battleship available if we construct a Starport and Fusion Core?"

The Adjutant paused for a moment, working. "Battleship data not found." Before I could even voice how bad that was, it continued. "Fusion Core data not found. Starport data not found."

After a brief moment, I turned to look at Roger. "We might be screwed. And stranded."

He turned to look at me. "You think?"

A/N: And here we have the first of hopefully many chapters in which our intrepid heroes prove themselves…well, not very intrepid or heroic at all, so far. Perspective changes will be labeled as above, with First Person followed by whose and Third Person followed by, well, where. Bear with me a bit on the perspective, I'm fiddling with it a bit. And now, to help keep track of what they can and can't build, the Database section!

Adjutant Database Updated:

Structure Completed: Command Center.

New Structure Available: Supply Depot. Serves as storage and allows more units to be maintained. Can lower into the ground to allow units to pass.

Zerg Genetic Archive Accessed:

New Structure Available: Hatchery. Basic Zerg structure, provides Zerg Larvae which can be Morphed into various Zerg strains.