It didn't rain much on Korhal, but it was raining right now.
From one end of the vast, seemingly endless city of Augustgrad to the other, rain was cascading onto it. The metropolis put Los Angeles to shame with its sheer size, and it also shamed Tokyo, or New York, with the height, opulence, and volume of its high rises, which rose like clusters of spears and jagged daggers left and right throughout the city.
Now, they were drawing persistant lightning strikes, zapping in from the carpet of darkened clouds that hung just above their tops, releasing their loads of water onto everything and everyone beneath them. The smooth as silk metal, glass, and concrete surfaces of those massive buildings deflected the rain easily, causing it to run off in sheets down thier sides.
In such a massive and wealthy city, most of the vehicles were of the hovering varitey, and so had nothing to worry about when it came to hydroplaning. Still not all of them rode on repulsorlifts, and they did have to content with how the rain had changed the road conditions. Drenched in the lights from streetlamps, the occasional neon sign billboard, and the interior lighting from the buildings themselves, the roads of Augustgrad were now half rivers and canals to the fleets of groundcars that were navigating them, under the rain.
It didn't flood the streets, of course, what with the extensive gutters that riddled them, but it was still driving all the pedestrians to head inside. Augustgrad had over 5 millions residents, and allthough there was plenty of shelter for them ( hoverbus stops, awnings, doorways, ), and though there were many of them who actually liked being out under the shower of rain, just as many if not more found themselves caught out in it, and they didn't like it.
As they scambled to get off the streets, as the rain pelted and soaked everything, Valarian Mengsk stood in one of the rooms of the Mengsk Royal Flagship, the titanic Gorgon-class battlecruiser Bucephalus, studying a holotable, as the windows of the city far below, hidden by the clouds, produced an incessent tapping sound from all that rain.
Usually, he enjoyed that sound: rain hitting glass. All his years of growing up had mostly been spent frantically travelling from one remote planet or station, far out in Umojian space, to another, as Confederate assasins hunted him and his mother. They'd been shutted to all kinds of worlds: jungle ones, desert ones, even a forest moon at one point. They'd not stayed at any of them long- by dint of having to stay ahead of the reltentless efforts of the Confederacy to kill them-, but, even so, one thing that Valerian could always remember about all of them, was:
That they had plenty of rain. On every of those worlds, Valerian could remember how the sound of rain striking the windows of the homes, apartments, and other dwellings that he'd lived in on those worlds, was, quite simply, soothing. There was so much tension every day during those times, with the knowledge that at any possible minute, any of them, a call could come through telling them to pack up, and flee wherever they were, because an aassasination team was closing in. Every day, they were looking over their shoulders, literally and otherwise, and they couldn't shake that persistent icy feeling of ' fight or flight ' running through their veins.
They were on the run, and they had to stay hidden. Far away from everyone, and all that, led to Valerian always being on the alert. He'd spend long hours sitting and standing by windows, out of some strange determination to spot the enemy first.
On those watches where it began to rain, he discovered something: rain hitting glass ? It helped.
There was something about it he couldn't place, or explain, but it did.
It couldn't solve the problems, or chase away/ eradicate the threats, but it could still do something. When it was coming down, some of that tension ebbed away. Some of it, not all, but those days, any form of relaxing was welcome. Valarian had always remembered how much he'd enjoyed the sound of rain, although he'd had to stay ready to run for his life.
Even now, many years later, standing within the staggering opulance of the most secure locations in the Koprulu Sector ( and possibly the galaxy at large ), and the Emporor of the Terran Dominion to boot, clad in a fitting outfit of a resplendant scarlet cloak fastened with wolf paw clasps, and wolf's head shouler pauldrons, a dark shaded forck coat with a wolf's head belt around it, matching trousers, and military formal boots, Valarian was every inch an Emporor's image, and he still liked that rain.
He still found it pleasing. He'd wanted to enjoy it again., and would rather be down there, at the looming residence of the Augustgrad Mengsk Palace, where his personal suite ( also one of the best guarded places in the sector/ galaxy ), offered an excellent view of his city, and let the rain beat on its windows when it came.
Except, he couldn't . He had to be here, aboard the gigantic battleship, and its array of technology that would let him tracj Not all his attention, anyway, becasue of what that holotable was showing him
On it, was laid a grid of the entire Sector, a map that covered all of it. Named planets, both those under Dominion control, and those that weren't, were highlighted on the map, along with the borders of Dominion space, and various hazards and landmarks, such as the Kirkgard ( aka, Kick-You-Good ) asteroid belt, or the volitile lava world of Redstone.
And, one blinking orange dot, that wasn't any planet at all.
It was a ship. One of his. A steal-capable vessel, small, swift, and agile. Ideal for hit and run attacks, getting in and out without being noticed, or escaping fast if it was. Though head on combat wasn't what it was really suited for, it had enough armor and firepower to give it a fighting chance in most fights ( ones without battlecruisers, at least ), to stay alive until it could warp out.
Its commander had disobeyed him.
On top of that, she was a Ghost, one of the psionically adept, covert warfare experts employed first by the Confederacy, and later the Dominion, under its previous leader, Arcturus Mengsk. They were ruthlessly lethal, highly competent at their jobs, and driven to complete their assignments at all costs.
Trouble with this Ghost, though, was she had taken all that into her own hands. He'd given her orders, very precise instructions. And, she'd done the precise opposite. Just, the most blatant kind of disobedience, by someone he was supposed to trust explicitly, and with such a technilogically advanced vessel at her disposal, with the skill set of a shadow operative.
Oh, and she'd taken one of the Dominion's best technical minds with her. Reigel. He was very skilled at designing and improving all things technological, particulary anything related to Terrazine. Some of the most crucial advanced technologies in the Dominion's arsenal was through his exploits.
And, now he was with this rouge.
What did that all say ?
" No offense, your highness, but she did resolve the issue ".
Valerian glanced up from the holoboard, his black gloved hands still holding its gold ornate edge, to face the man who'd spoken.
Admiral Matt Horner. Tall, square faced, with dark hair kept at a low cut, and with the dusting of a goatee-and-mustache coming through, the ranking officer of the Dominion Navy stood on the other side of the table. His black uniform was, as always, immaculate, from his polished deck shoes ( a little odd, as they weren't on a ship ), to his gold epaulets. He spoke in a somewhat gravelly, strong voice.
One that did, admittedly, speak the truth.
Valerian exhaled slowly with frustraion.
" Yes, Admiral ", he replied in a measured tone ". But, not how I wanted it to unfold. "
He blacned back down the holoboard, at the moving orange dot. It was just outside Dylarian Shipyards, on an outbound flight path.
To who knew where.
The Admiral wasn't done, though.
" Ghosts are trained to get results "
" Indeed. Though, I'd appreciate it if you would not remind me of things I am well aware of "
The blunt, to- the-point reply was still cultured in how it was spoken, which reminded Horner of another way Valerian was different from his last boss, James Raynor.
Raynor had been very inch the " down to Shiloh " farm boy, in appearance ( work trousers and boots, carpenters t shirt, weapons and utility harness, fingerless gloves ), and demeanour: casual, relaxed, and not adverse to stating his mind bluntly and unfiltered to anyone he was speaking with: Protoss Exceutors, Confederate ( while that hateful goverment still existed ), the previous Dominion Emporor, and of course, his own subordinates.
Including Matt. He'd been on the receiving end of Raynor's annoyed mood before, as with Valerian now. It wasn't a shocker.
" Understood. That wasn't my intention. What is, though, is to say that Nova did go rouge, but she always remembered what the mission was. "
The dot kept moving.
As it had when the Ghost was on a mission.
" That mission, Admiral, was to bring Davis in alive. ", Valerian mildly stressed that last word. There was defintely annoyance in his tone now. " I had planned out what was to happen with her, how she was to be dealt with, and I expected Nova to fulfill her place in it. Instead, she did not ".
" Yes. Davis is dead, along with the Xanthos. "
General Carolina Davis, and the gargantuan multirole (and ultra-top-secret ) combat robot known as the Xanthos. Both of them were dead as rocks now.
Davis, one of Arcturus' most high profile and loyal generals, had turned out to be the leader of a far-right military organization calling itself " The Defenders of Man ". They'd appeared on the sector stage in the middle of a rising wave of Zerg assaults on Dominion worlds, claiming that the Dominion's response to defending those worlds was ineffective, and that they would handle it themselves.
They were stunningly succsesfull, and that galvanized support for them. Too succsessfull, though, thought sharp minds in the Dominion's military brass, and its leadership- such as Matt and Valerian. As if they'd been pre- ready for the attacks. And, they'd just popped up out of nowhere ?
That warranted investigation. Valerian turned to one of the most accomplished Ghosts in the Dominion ( formerly of the Confederacy ), November " Nova " Terra, to learn everything about the Defenders. And, after chasing leads about them over several worlds, she'd done just that, discovering that Davis was the head of the Defenders of Man ! And, that they'd triggered the Zerg attacks delibertely, just so they could swoop in later, and be heores to the belegured colonists. In so doing, they'd be lauded as saviors, not Valerian, and support for his rule was weakened.
It was an appalingly trecherous thing, what Davis had done, and Nova strongly wanted to kill her at once for it. But, Valerian had forbidden her from doing so; instead, he'd ordered her to bring Davin in alive, so she could stand trial for her scheming.
Reluctantly, Nova had done that. The unrepentant Davis was brought before Valverian, but before any trial could begin, another alien attack hit the world- Vardonna- that they were on. The Protoss, though, not the Zerg !
Tal'Darim. Ruthless extremists, whose sardonic leader, Alarak, had tracked the leader of the Defenders ( aka Davis ) to the world, and sought vengeance against her for the Defenders' attacks against his own empire. Dominion forces had rallied, though, and with Nova and Matt leading them, they'd held the line against the Tal' Darim's death fleet, aided ( bizzarely ), by ex-Defenders who'd changed sides after hearing about how Davis had insitagted the Zerg attacks.
The Protoss took a heavy battering, and Alarak eventually called a retreat ( along with ominous threats directed Nova's way ). But, in the chaos of the battle, Davis managed to escape; having been placed aboard the battlecruiser Medusa, its crew turned out to be hardcore Defenders, and they spirited Davis away.
To the Dylarian shipyards, where the Xanthos was housed. Nova and her detachment arrived shortly thereafter, and though Davis sent the Xanthos against them several times, the crafty Ghost outplayed and outmanuvered the renegade general in that final showdown, wrecking the Xanthos.
Her order to keep Davis alive still stood, even then. Instead, Nova had killed her. Shot her dead.
" The Xanthos ? Yes, its loss is millions of credits evaporated, and it will take millions more to construct its replacement. But, that is not the issue at hand. Davis is. "
He took his attention off the board, to adress Matt directly. The orange dot ambled on.
" Hunting her down and assasinating her, is what my father would have done. The man you risked your life fighting against, Admiral. The man who was the enemy of this entire sector for the monster that he proved himself to be. I will not be known to be the same. I have to show I am not a tyrant. "
Was he angry, or just lammenting in another way ? Matt wasn't certain. He didn't show that, though.
He wasn't just the leader of the Dominion's fleets, though. He was one of Valerian's top officals. An advisor. Not the formal title he had, but he'd done so anyway, as all top officals to Emperors had through Human history.
He would now. Clearly, this was something that was bothering the Emperor quite a bit, and it was more that just a rouge ghost: Valerian was secretly afraid that he would be the hated kind of man his predescesor was.
" You belive eliminating Davis was wrong, sire ? Your father's way ? I know he was a bad person, but he was not a weak leader. "
" It is not the same, to be strong and good, or weak and good ", Valerian replied. " Putting Davis on trial would be exactly what he would not do, but a lot more than that: its the civil way. The Dominion is a government for the people, not a reigime that hunts them down, even for crimes against it. "
Now he reminds me of me, Matt thought. I was the idealistic crusader once, all about the ' right thing ', and a better future. I still beleive in the latter, but the former, well-
Its not always so neat and tidy
" It wasn't a mistake, to be honest with you, sire. I always am ", the Admiral declared.
Valerian frowned, not pleased with that. He probabbly hadn't expected it at all. Before he could say so, though-
" You are right, to want to be a ruler who is just, fair, and respected, becasue he deserves to be. On your own, not in anyone's shadow, let alone Arcturus. "
The displeased expression on the Emperor's face mitigated somewhat, as he listened to what Matt had to say.
He knew when to listen.
The dot was still moving, further and further from the shipyards.
" But, that's one side of this. The other, I must inform you, is that the Domion was built on ruthlessness. I don't want to imply you have to be completley like that, not at all, but, I do think you must embrace the fact that ruling the Dominion, means issuing orders that may clash with your code. "
" My code ? ", Valerian rasied an eyebrow. " And what would that be, Admiral ? "
" Striving to be a better man. Your own man, and a better emperor as well. That may be why you find it, less than easy. I understand you wanted to appear equitable by announcing that Davis would be put on trial. That's not something I would say was inadvisable, in of itself. But, having Nova just use lethal force against her outright, represents that kind of steel that anyone who has the title of Emperor, I beleive, must have. "
" You have that. The people know that now, with Davis' death. There will be more calls like this in the future, but I think, though this didn't sit well with you, you can rise to it. "
The orange dot moved on. Now, it was well past the shipyards, and on a steady line toward Tarsonis.
Valerian watched it, silently. His face was contemplative, and serious. Matt didn't speak further, wanting to let his bos fully consider everything he'd just heard. He still believed in the Dominion, this new Dominion, under Valerian's hand. But, this latest innsurection was also a warning: the Empire was meant to a wolf at his head.
A Mengsk. Arcturus may have been arguably ( or not, really ) one of the worst men the family ever had, and he certainly deserved his death at the hands of the Queen of Blades, but as the head of the Empire, he'd been waht they needed.
Valerian would have to be a better Mengsk, and a better man, while taking enough of what had given the ruling family its strength.
He remembered, like a flash of lightning, what his late mother had once told him, less than a year before her death, years before now. Saying, well, very much this.
" Please, tell me you understand ", she'd pleaded with him, her cancer- wracked face contorted with anguish.
Valerian exhaled again, thinking fleetingly of that moment.
His mother had told him to be different from his father.
His confidant and advisor was telling him the same, but with something more; what his mother had been too afaird to confess: Who wears the crown had a burden of cold steel on their shoulders.
They were all right.
" Then, I thank you for your counsel. ", he told the Admiral.
Matt waved a hand. " I can't take credit. You are the emperor; You will find your way, aside from any advice I can offer ".
" Well, you are still right. "
It wasn't an easy lesson. But, Valerien would not let the future he had planned for the Dominion collapse. It could not be allowed to come that close again. He would learn from this experience, this quasi-rebellion of the Defenders. They- the remmnants who were still hardcore-, and the population at large, would be reminded of who stood at the head of the Empire.
A wolf.
Valerian stood back from the table. The orange dot had slowed down.
" I would tour these afflicted worlds ", he delcared. " They need to be remined who rules them, and who is willing and able to defend and protect them "
Matt nodded.
" That would do a lot for morale, sire. Shall I set us on course for the nearest world ? "
" Yes. But, I shall issue the order to on the bridge itself. Come ".
With that, Valerian rounded the end of the table, and began to leave the room, red cloak swishing. The Admiral promptly followed.
As they left, the winking orange dot sped up.
And dissappeared.