One Year Ago
Location: Port Victory, Heinland III
Three cloaked commandoes, the feared Ghosts of the Terran Dominion, darted past as stall, leaving being a mere shimmer to even indicate that they were ever there. Two of them were clearly male, the last one female.
"All teams, this is Hades, Operation: Shadow Day is a go, I repeat, Operation: Shadow Day is a go," crackled the authoritative voice of Major Mikhail Kamarov.
The point-man, one of the males, moved forward cautiously, before spotting something that he didn't like.
"Operational objective is to eliminate activist Roan Ives, and to capture all intelligence regarding separatist group Freedom Now," the Major continued the laydown of the plan.
"R.O.E, sir?" asked Lieutenant Jorge 'Scion' Hall, cocking his weapon.
"Everyone down there is fair game, LT," the Major grunted back. "Everyone. Command wants no witnesses here, it's a full damn sweep."
Sighing loudly, the lead Ghost whispered into his comm. "Civvies, three of them. Looks like a family."
The Major's voice came onto the comm. again. "Eliminate."
"Understood," the Ghost acknowledged, without hesitation, bringing his silenced C-22 Canister Rifle to bear on the family of three. Then he fired.
Three soft thumps filled the air for a brief moment, before the three targeted people dropped dead, holes in their heads.
"Clear," the Ghost briskly reported, not giving the dead anything but a cursory brief glance. The two other Ghosts didn't even give the dead a single thought, moving forward with mechanical precision.
"Ives has a wife and son…command wants to send a message to the rebels," the Major thundered to the assembled men and women. "Kill them."
The three Ghosts scanned their surroundings intently, one eye keeping watch on the motion tracker while they did so. The mini-map on the top-left of their Heads-Up Display (HUD) displayed the various teams around the area. In the distance, multiple squads of Ghosts took their positions, forming a mobile perimeter around the location of Roan Ives. The three were the designated entry team. Other blips, yellow in color, showed the various other inhabitants of the area, which were blinking out fast. If Command wanted no witnesses, no survivors, then the Ghosts would carry out their will.
Lieutenant Alexander 'Sable' Miller took a quick glance at the status bars of Black Team, which he led. Warrant Officer Henrique 'Henry' Vasquez's status lights were fully green, as was Warrant Officer Anna 'Dagger' Chang's.
He then continued on, taking note of the disappearance of many yellow blips from the radar. He should have, and would have been guilty at the very least had he been a regular human. But he wasn't one. Everything from his bones, to muscles and brains had been altered to create the perfect soldier, the Ghosts. His psyche and psionic powers were both nearly unmatched, being one of the few Class 10s on the Psi Index. Reaction speeds and reflexes were far above the realms of human possibility.
Of course, that meant that for the moment he was merely a robot, mechanical and lifeless in his movements. A slave in his own right, Miller was the result of the Ghost Corp's forceful child conscription program.
The leaders of the Dominion and its military would have wanted him to stay this way.
But as it was, fate would not have it. And fate…
Fate, well, she was a fickle bitch.
Kevin Royce took a deep breath in anticipation on what he was about to do. The camera was set, already streaming a feed to the secretly and well-hidden communications relays that had been set up by the Freedom Now Movement prior to the start of their plans.
His brother, his entire family, his friends, all of them had been killed during the Dominion's raid on Agria. His brother and father had been shot to 'set and example for the fringe colonial scum' while his sisters and mother had been raped repeatedly by Dominion marines.
In the end, both died after a long time in captivity.
Royce hated the Dominion, and he hated it with a goddamn passion. He hated its emperor, and he hated the motherfucking lackeys that claimed that the Dominion was for the better.
He also had nothing to lose. And a person who had nothing to lose…were the most dangerous kinds.
The small prefab structure, home to activist Roan Ives, was quickly and silently surrounded by the highly trained and augmented Ghosts, after which Black Team stacked up by the entrance. Swiftly placing a cord of breaching explosives on the hinges of the doors, while waiting for the other teams to confirm that they had every nook and cranny of the house covered, WO Chang began counting down, allowing herself and other members of the team to get to a relatively safe distance before triggering the charge.
The explosion's loud noise was blocked out by the Hostile Environment Suit's audio filters, allowing the three Ghosts to immediately dash in and, were there any, begin eliminating hostiles with extreme prejudice.
Instead, they found the entry point's room to be empty. Quickly sweeping through the other rooms, they ended up stacking up on the last door, the only place where anyone could be at the prefab. This time, Miller didn't bother using explosives, instead kicking down the door and rushing in-
Royce was grinning from ear to ear. The feed of the Dominion's precious Ghosts gunning down the very citizens they were supposed to be protecting had already been streamed to the recording center, where a reel was being prepared. All that was left to do was the final phase of the operation.
Die fighting.
His task here was essentially to watch over the gear and make sure nothing unfortunate happened. That was already done.
In his right hand was a custom-made pistol, crafted by a gunsmith who had once been part of the Dominion's mad science departments. It fired something called warp munitions, which Royce could not care less about. It could kill, and that was the end of it.
The door burst down, and a Ghost entered, his C-22 Canister Rifle being brought to bear within milliseconds of the door dropping. Royce, though, had his gun up already, due to the fact that he knew they were about to enter. He fired, pulling the trigger of the custom pistol.
Instead of a slug though, a small circular object, spherical in shape and glowing blue, flew out of the barrel, before zeroing onto the Ghost.
Just as it was about to hit, the object exploded into a vibrant blue 'blanket,' which covered the Ghost. Then it detonated, with the force of a small nuke.
The shockwave tore apart the two Ghosts behind the targeted one, along with Royce, who gave a mad grin before the wave turned his insides into jelly. Then the flames and fire, blue instead of red, expanded at a pace so fast that it nearly mirrored that of the shockwave.
To the average person, it would have been horrifying and terrible…but to a man who had nothing to lose, and had hurt his enemy, it was glorious.
When the spherical thing exited the barrel of the strange pistol, Miller knew he was screwed. He wasn't afraid, strangely. He was…content? Why would he be content to die?
A brief flash of confused puzzlement coursed through him, before the sphere exploded into a blanket that seemed to snake around him, wrapping around him tightly.
Then the blanket-like thing exploded, sending a ear-shattering shockwave proceeded by an awe-inspiring amount of fiery, flaming death.
Miller, being at ground zero for the explosion, was labeled KIA.
Nothing remained of him, not even ash.
Major Mikhail Kamarov growled in anger as the plume of smoke continued to rise. The op was a major fuck-up, and he was sure that command would want his head.
Three Ghosts, two of them Class 8s and one Class 10, had been confirmed KIA. Ten more were in critical condition, and would most likely be dead by the end of the day. Another eight were in varying states of injury. In short, only three teams were left unscathed, nine Ghosts at 100% operational capacity.
If he wasn't going to be shot, or hung by command for this, then his career in the military would be dead. In short, he was screwed. Slamming his hand onto the table again, the Major growled and glared at the screen.
A flash of lights on the comm. device then informed him that someone was calling. Answering the comm., the Major growled out a quick 'what.'
"Major Kamarov," the cold and calculative voice that could send shivers down the spine of even the bravest men spoke on the other end of the line. Director Fujita of the Dominion's Military Intelligence Directorate was not a man that you could cross…nor should you. Not one man survived it, and even the Emperor and royal family tried their very best to stay on good terms with him.
Kamarov gulped, his throat going dry. After a failed op, getting a call from the Director of Military Intelligence did not bode well. "Director, sir?" he managed to croak out.
"Tell me, Major…you are the man in charge of Operation: Shadow Day, are you not?" the ice-cold voice questioned politely. It was soft-spoken, and gave out a tangible and clear vibe of extreme danger.
"…yes, sir," answered Kamarov, sweating profusely now.
"Do you have a television, or terminal near you?" the strange question baffled Kamarov, and had this been another regular man the Major most likely would have told them to stop bothering him with useless prompts. But no sane man did that to the Director of Military Intelligence. Doing so had proven…unfortunate to people foolish enough to had done so in the past.
"I do, sir," Kamarov replied hesitantly, not sure on where this was going.
"Excellent, Major. Now, switch to channel 14, Koprulu News Net…or really, any news channel other than UNN," the director ordered.
Kamarov quickly did as he was told, before his jaw dropped, and he began stuttering.
A video feed of clearly identifiable Ghosts began firing on helpless civilians, with the Major's orders- his own words- being played over and over again. "Command wants no witnesses here, it's a full damn sweep."
"By the idiotic stuttering I hear on the other end of this line, I assume then that you have seen what is being shown now?" the grating, stone-hard voice of Director Fujita now began booming on the comm.
No coherent words were formed by Kamarov…he just didn't have the ability to. Fear began gripping him…failure was bad enough…but this? This was the possible catalyst to a fucking rebellion!
"You imbecile!" roared Fujita angrily from the other end of the line. "You know what this means, you idiotic grunt? This…cockup…of yours, can possibly start a bloody rebellion!"
That fear gripping Kamarov just grabbed at his heart with a vengeance.
"How such a retarded man, dumb enough to announce orders designated Black-1 over an open, lightly encrypted comm. line could rise to a rank of Major is beyond me," the director continued, his furiousness apparent.
"I…I take full responsibility for this, Director," Kamarov finally spoke, his voice shaky.
"Good…good," Fujita seemed…contemplative? "Major Mikhail Kamarov, under the orders of Emperor Mengsk, and under Directive Six-Charlie-Delta, I, Director Lars Fujita of the Dominion Military Intelligence am charging you guilty with acts of terrorism, murder, destruction of property and treason."
'Oh shit, oh shit,' were the prevalent thoughts in Kamarov's mind at this point.
"No trial is required under Directive Six-Charlie-Delta, and as such, I am sentencing you to death."
The line then ended, and Kamarov turned around, his hairs on his back suddenly screaming 'DANGER!'
A surprised grunt was all he could give out before a dagger slid into his neck, slitting his throat. The Ghost who assassinated him deactivated her cloak, the tight fitting Hostile Environment Suit showing her figure, which left nothing to imagination. The blonde hair was tied up and in a ponytail.
"Director, it's Nova. Target down."
After Action Report
Operation Shadow Day
Status: Failure
Relevant Units: 2nd Platoon, 1st Ghost Regiment
Status of Units: Thirteen KIA, Eight WIA
Report Filed By: Captain Ramon Chavez (Acting CO in replacement for Major Kamarov)
Operation Shadow Day was a massive failure, leading to the deaths of thirteen Ghosts, one of which was a Class 10 Psi. Three other Ghosts were Class 9s, and the rest were either Class 7s or 8s. The Class 10 was Lieutenant Alexander Miller, one of the initial candidates for the Mars Program, which had the aim of creating super soldiers.
Under the orders of Major Kamarov, then the Commanding Officer of the force, 2nd Platoon was ordered to perform a clean sweep through the target zone, leaving behind no survivors. This was done successfully, resulting in the deaths of 138 of the inhabitants of the area.
Black Team, led by Lt. Miller, was ordered to be the entry team for eliminating activist Roan Ives. Breach and Clear procedures were carried out correctly, as was the sweep of the building. Upon encountering the only live person in the house, Lt. Miller was hit by a blue sphere that formed into an energy 'blanket' like object, which promptly exploded. We have not recovered the remains of Lt. Miller, only the incomplete remains of Warrant Officer Anna Chang and Warrant Officer Henrique Vasquez. The remains of the shooter are likewise incomplete, though DNA checks had shown it to be that of Kevin Royce, an anti-Dominion extremist from Agria.
Traces of terrazine have been found onsite. The weapon fired has been identified as the Mk.7 Warp Antipersonnel Launcher, a discontinued line of experimental gear developed by Dominion R&D. It is unknown how a rebel came into possession of such advanced weaponry.
The resulting explosion caused the immediate deaths of WO Chang and Vasquez, with the injuries of ten other Ghosts.
Casualty List:
Lt. Alexander Miller, Black Team (KIA), Class 10
WO Anna Change, Black Team (KIA), Class 8
WO Henrique Vasquez (KIA), Class 8
CWO Ines Collins, Indigo Team (KIA), Class 9
SSgt. Fiona Leong, Indigo Team (KIA), Class 7
Sgt. Samuel Heller, Indigo Team (KIA), Class 8
Lt. Keith Robinson, Violet Team (KIA), Class 9
Cpl. Ari Chaska, Violet Team (KIA), Class 7
CWO Gregory Olson, Red Team (KIA), Class 8
Pfc. Edwin Finnigan, Red Team (KIA), Class 7
Pvt. Diana Riverson, Red Team (KIA), Class 7
Lt. Wayne Dawson, Orange Team (KIA), Class 9
Sgt. Olaf Marcusson, Orange Team (KIA), Class 8
Sgt. Ellen Danson, Violet Team (WIA), Class 7
WO Terrence McBridge, Orange Team (WIA), Class 8
CWO Niel Caston, Brown Team (WIA), Class 8
WO Christine Postiga, Brown Team (WIA), Class 7
Cpl. Gina Lockler, Brown Team (WIA), Class 7
CWO Hans MacLarson, Cyan Team (WIA), Class 8
Sgt. Kimberly Volk, Cyan Team (WIA), Class 7
Pvt. Frank Allen, Cyan Team (WIA), Class 7
(End Report)
Present Date
February 3, 2170
Mindoir
I shot up from my king-size bed, jolting from the shock of the nightmare once more. Panting like a person who had a marathon (which, coincidentally, due to my augmentations would not even cause me to break a sweat, but the saying stands), I swung my feet off the bed, rubbing my forehead with the back of my hand.
It's been a year since Operation: Shadow Day. A year since that fuckup that caused the deaths of over a hundred innocents. Innocents slaughtered just because the members of High Command didn't want witnesses.
Witnesses, who may or may not have seen us. People who were at the wrong place at the wrong time, who were just plainly unlucky to be there.
The worst part?
That wasn't the worst thing I had done…no, it was one of the less bloody ones. And if that doesn't tell you much, then nothing could.
The bedside lamp is already on, having been set to do so after detecting me awaking. The light illuminated the pistol I had built on my own, reminiscent of the Desert Eagle from Earth's 21st Century. Beside it was a vibrating mono-molecular blade, a rarity here, though to be exact the blade was technically not from here. A holographic dog-tag was beside the blade, with the identification of Lieutenant Alexander Miller, Dominion Ghost Corps, 1st Ghost Regiment, 2nd Platoon, Black Team. Class 10 Psi, with a picture of a black-haired man-no, teenager, really- with, if I should say, average looks. A few scars here and there, but that's to be expected if you've been killing for years. The age identifier was the kicker. 15. Now, it'd have been 16…
I wrapped my hands around the gun, then lifting it up. Checking to see if there were any rounds- I never did like the mass accelerators here- I placed it below my jaw.
I switched off the safety, my fingers inching towards the trigger.
One pull.
One pull, just one to end this nightmare of a life.
One pull.
I goaded myself to it, my finger twitching, as if it did not want to pull the trigger, but yet, at the same time, it did.
A sharp intake of air, and I made my decision.
The entire town heard the loud bang, causing the inhabitants, both children and adults, to stare at the origin of the sound, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Shock coursed through them, the adults at least.
The children were curious, unsure of what the sound meant. The adults…they began being terrified, pulling the kids away from the originating point.
AN: Well, here's the first chapter of Mass Change: Origin. Enjoy (if applicable), and review (for comments, suggestions, the like).