Liberators

I'm sitting on the throne of Emperor Mengsk.

Not really a throne, I notice. His personal office is no different from any other, and the chair, as comfortable as it is, is no different from any other office chair in this side of the galaxy or the other. But I suppose I might as well call it a throne, since what else does an emperor sit on? It's certainly not something that UED captains are meant to sit on, let me tell you that.

Damn it's comfy though.

But it's mine. The emperor's fled, and he's got no clothes. The Overmind is ours. All that's left is to clear up dissidents, make sure the KMC and Umojan Protectorate know their place, and that the protoss stay clear of humanity, and acknowledge our rightful place in the galaxy.

The constellations. They're nothing like those on Earth.

It's sunset, I notice, as I get off the chair and move to the office window. I look out over Augustgrad, much of it still damaged from when we liberated it from the tyrant that once ruled these people. It's…different, I think to myself. Different from Earth. Harder. Colder. The type of city that develops from a world that was bombed into oblivion by a government formed by criminals. The type of city that had a wall established around it – part of a rebuilding program. From what I understand, it was meant to keep out the zerg. I dare to smile – didn't expect this, did you? You never thought the people who would end another criminal's rule would be true humans?

Augustgrad is different. These humans, these "terrans," are different. I begin pacing around, still looking out over the city. Scrappy. Without discipline. True detritus clinging to the edge of the galaxy, doing their best to not have the galaxy throw them out into the void. It's a wonder that they didn't end up killing themselves before we arrived to establish order.

And yet…

I frown, looking at my data pad – a proper data pad, not one of those archaic devices these refugees call data pads. Crime is up. Vigilantism, slogans sprayed with terms such as "go back to Earth" or "fekk off!" Using the term "Earther" as if it were an insult. Some people even refusing to call themselves human, but "terran," as if that were a difference that mattered anymore. I know that it take awhile for the conquered to start admiring their conquerors (correction – liberators, not conquerors), but this is ridiculous. We've overthrown their emperor, and a council of rear admirals has taken over administration of our vassal territory. We've conquered the zerg. We're effectively the most powerful military presence in this sector, and it's only a matter of time before all threats to the safety of humanity are expunged. And yet the ingrates are still at it. As if they want to go back to the days of savagery. I know that criminal behaviour isn't heredity, but looking at this…collection…of humans, I have to wonder.

Incoming message

I press the receive button on the pad and make my way back to the desk. I wonder what this room would look like refurbished? Less portraits, more banners, I think. And proper banners, not what passes for 'art' out here. I…

I grow pale. My heart skips a beat. And I find myself wondering whether Emperor Mengsk kept any alcohol on hand.

Something's happened on Braxis.