A/N: My second formal fanfic! (If discounting the two other inadequate ones from 2015) I wanted to write a little slice of life, since this takes place right after the Second Great War and before the End War, and Nova's an interesting character to me. One day I imagined what it'd be like if Valerian reformed the Ghost Academy and actually applied labor laws to the Ghosts? Sounds unrealistic and/or farfetched? I'd definitely love to hear your opinions on that.
I also wanted to practice writing better fight scenes. If this fanfic starts off well, then we can expect more to come, along with further explorations on how the Ghosts deal with living "normie" lives.
Starcraft characters belong to Blizzard Entertainment. OCs belong to me.
Please read and leave a review!
-So What Now?-
-Early June, 2505. Somewhere in Augustgrad...-
BEEP
BEEP
BEEP
Her hand slapped over the wretched alarm clock, and held it over her face to check the time.
7:00 A.M.
Her green eyes shot wide open.
7:00 A.M.!?
She was supposed to wake up an hour ago! Call time was at 6:15! That means she's...
Late.
She'd be horribly punished for sleeping in her intensive training! How could she oversleep? Why didn't anyone wake her up?!
There was no time to tie her ponytail! She threw off her blanket and dashed to the wardrobe where her various custom-made hostile-environment suits were neatly stored. She threw open the doors and reached for her training suit and yanked it out.
In her hands she held a blue-plaid flannel...
What? Why is this in her wardrobe? She desperately double-checked her stock.
There was nothing but flannels, t-shirts, and baggy jeans and sweatpants. Where are her suits?
Was this a psychological test by the wranglers? Or just a really bad dream?
Extensive awareness training prompted her to scan the surroundings. A few seconds soaked in, and she let loose a tense breath of air, her heart still pounding in her chest.
"Oh my god..." she said with a flat, deadpan expression as the situation was realized.
She smacked herself with a facepalm.
An electronic tea-cooker was brewing tea to optimal levels in the kitchen whilst Nova brushed her teeth in her bedroom's bathroom. Her arms moved with mechanical precision as she returned the blank green stare of her mirror reflection.
Slouching ever so slightly forward, the blonde halfheartedly marched to the kitchen wearing a white robe. She poured hot water from a kitchen boiler into a bowl, added dried oatmeal, and set her instant oatmeal porridge on a small wooden table. She filled a glass cup with hot black tea, set that on the table with her porridge bowl, and sat down with her meal.
The top Dominion ghost stared at her bland set of oatmeal and tea, with long blonde hair undone and messy, wearing her robe, in an apartment building somewhere in Augustgrad... and not in the Ghost Academy.
Hell, she's living like a lonely single woman.
She sighed and resolved to finish her simple meal, shoveling the mashed grain into her mouth and downing it with the bitter liquid. Every now and then she'd be distracted with her blonde locks almost falling into the mix, and brushed them aside. She stared at her reflection in the tea surface, noting the disheveled bed hair.
Maybe she should clean herself up before heading out.
Nova really didn't understand why some people would waste precious hours fixing their look. She slipped into her black sweat pants and a blue flannel over a white tank top, all in a minute or so.
How complicated can putting on clothes be?
She stood in front of the mirror as she finished tying her trademark ponytail with bangs, and observed herself in the mirror.
Great... all she needed is a purse to complete the picture. She looked like a damn normie.
The 20 year old grabbed her keys and marched towards the front door. Just as she pushed open the metal board, she heard scratching and nibbling in the kitchen.
"Damn it..." She whipped out a hidden pistol from behind her couch and stalked with expert treading towards the ceiling cupboard, sensing the pest within. Once she inched close enough, she yanked open the panels and fired in quick succession.
A rat scrambled to escape, its tail bleeding where she'd blown it right off.
Nova fired three more shots, each missing the rat as it leaped to the floor and darted out the front door, resulting in bullet holes marring her wooden cupboard and metal surfaces.
"Shit! How could I miss every shot?!"
Someone pounded from another apartment living space, and shouted. "Hey gun chick. It's fucking seven. GO TO SLEEP!"
The frustrated Nova rolled her eyes and stashed the gun in its original spot after reloading its magazine; then left her apartment. She'd deal with the bullet damage and the impending complaints later.
She probably could have mind blasted the insolent rodent into a twitching sac of flesh, but that'd mean she'd lose for resulting to cheaper methods.
As the ghost marched out the building entrance, she saw the same rat, dead, in the jaws of a cat.
The striped, grey, shorthair feline stared back Nova with an unusual shade of green eyes, and a bored expression on its own face. Nova's empathy could sense the cat's mild satisfaction with the kill, but ultimately it was in a state of boredom.
Just like her.
The cat ran off with its kill, leaving Nova to sigh and walk towards her car.
Nova had already eaten breakfast, but then decided she'd want fast food to perk up her mood. It wouldn't hurt to indulge herself in junk food once in a while.
To this day, she still wasn't used to standing exposed in public. Sure she was used to people not noticing her - she's a cloaked assassin. But actually mingling with the crowd? It amazed her. She was the top ghost of the Dominion, a feared killer among enemies, and a propaganda champion against the alien menace in the Koprulu sector.
Yet here she stood in civilian clothing, and no one batted an eye to her, save for the occasional pervert, but they usually had the decency to keep their mental thoughts to themselves.
Perhaps they could never imagine Nova Terra dressing up just like a 'normal person'?
Exiting the Nuke'A'Bite joint with to-go cheeseburgers and fries in her hand, she walk towards her car was parked down the street.
Few people knew how much Nova loved cheeseburgers. The preceptors back in the day would probably wring her neck for consuming such physically inhibiting foods, but not even they would stop her if she had the chance. Her mouth was watering ever so slightly. She even bought extra to share with her co-workers, or eat them herself if no one else was interested.
God she loved cheeseburgers. Where have they been most of her life?
She passed by an alley, and instantly stopped her brisk pace to see a filthy man thrown against the concrete by another enraged, drunken man.
"I'm sorry. I'm hungry! I'm sorry!"
"Why don't you earn your food like the rest of us?!" The drunken man pulled out a gun from his holster. "I'll show you to steal from me!"
Nova probed their minds. The drunk's mind was foggy and would take time to read, but the other, a homeless man, had indeed stolen food and was begging for his life. That confirmed everything she needed to know. She marched into the alley.
Maybe this could turn out interestingly.
"Hey! Street rat!"
The homeless man looked to Nova with hope in his eyes. The drunk simply bellowed, "I'm already dealing with him, hottie."
Nova corrected him. "By street rat, I mean you. The tall stupid one."
The rage was seeded and grew within the drunk's mind, exactly as she intended. He dropped the homeless and hobbled towards Nova, lazily waving his gun at her. "I ain't stupid you bitch!"
She flicked her hand and spoke. "You will go home and rethink your life choices."
He stared at her in bewilderment. "The hell are you doing?" He laughed and pointed the gun's muzzle.
Damn it. The mental suggestion failed on his drunken mind. She flicked her hand the opposite way into a fist.
The drunk pulled the trigger, only to hear the jammed clicks of his gun. "The hell?" He tossed the firearm aside, pulled out a knife, and charged Nova, thrusting the knife towards her exposed neck.
Nova grew impatient as she lazily watched the attack inch closer, but restrained until the last second. She finally allowed herself to duck low with a blur and punched his extended arm, followed by a psionic-enhanced devastating kick to his knee joint with the satisfying shockwave against her boot.
He howled and hopped back to nurse his injured limbs as Nova stalked around him with a casual posture, still holding her to-go bag. She waited anxiously, impatience eating away at her discipline.
The drunk kept his wide-eyes fixed on her in fear. Overcome by pain and poor balance, he cried out and collapsed onto a knee.
At that moment, Nova seized her advantage and blitzed with such speed, digging her fingers into his face and threw him roughly against the ground.
Her fist crashed into his chest with an audible crack, finished with a kick to his cheek, bouncing his skull against the concrete. He stared at her with a bloody daze before knocking out.
Hunting rats was her specialty, but that finished way too soon for her to enjoy.
Nova sighed and looked to the homeless man who had scurried away from the fight. She approached the fearful person, stared down, then tossed her bag to his feet.
"I'm not hungry. You should find water and drink it with that."
"O-oh... Thank you, miss."
Nova pulled out her I.D. card and swiped it at the scanner near a reinforced metal door. She subjected her face to a retinal scan, and entered once the green light was given.
The hallways inside were pragmatically aesthetic - everything was metallic and only lit enough to see without trouble. It embodied the epitome of privacy for every room and facility inside the Ghost Academy. Marine patrols and preceptors in lab suits populated the hallways as she marched into the Agents' Locker Room.
When leaving the Locker Room back in the comfort of her training suit, she came face to face two people, who had been standing outside waiting for her.
Standing tall was Theodore Pierce, a 34 year old operative. While his age was considered advanced, he still scored in the 90th percentile in his physical and mental proficiency tests, ranking him among the best ghosts until his age would inevitably catch up to him in the recent future. He wore a cybernetic ghost mask over his face and sported a cybernetic left shin just below the knee.
Accompanying him was the much shorter Delta Emblock, just a head below Nova. A 19 year old girl with short auburn-hair, she held a plastic cup of coffee in one hand and waved with the other.
"Good Morning, Nova." she perked with a smile.
"Good Morning, Delta, Pierce." she responded. "You shouldn't be drinking coffee here."
"Oh come on, Nova~. What's a little caffeine going to do? It's training day for the undergraduates, and we're the trainers."
Right... Nova was reminded of her current station in life.
Instead of being sent on crucial, high-priority missions that would require her top-level skills to promote the safety and continuation of the Dominion, she's stuck here, training recruits, because being the best apparently means babysitting people hoping to get on her level.
All because of what happened in the 'Failure at 103'...
"Let her have it Nova," reassured the collected voice of Pierce. "Do you have any idea what eating tasteless rations for years does to a person?"
"I never complained," pointed Nova. "It's crucial to staying fit."
"Says the one who chomps cheeseburgers," whispered Delta to Pierce, who chuckled as Nova's face reddened.
She flicked her index finger to her lips. "Hush! I can't let the undergrads know that!"
"Alright ladies," said Pierce. "Let's all agree that anything other than the slop they serve us is a blessing from the Heavens. Delta, tell Nova the news."
"Can that wait?" protested Nova, checking her watch. "It's 8:57. We need to commence training at 9:00."
Delta laughed "Chill Nova! Just hear this out for a sec'. So you know my birthday's coming up in a few days, right?"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. So I wanted to let you know you're invited to my birthday party!"
Nova raised a brow. "A birthday party? Aren't you too old to throw a birthday party?"
"Nova!~ You can never get too old to celebrate your birthday! Besides, I haven't had a birthday party since I was seven. Always too busy workin' at the factory before I got picked up by a wrangler."
"Think of it this way, Nova." added Pierce. "We can also celebrate how much things have changed since Valerian took over. Trust us, it'll be fun."
"Who said I wanted to celebrate that?" Pierce's expressionless masked look and Delta's pleading eyes broke down Nova's resolve. "Fine. But who's invited?"
"All our friends."
"All your friends, Delta."
"All our friends," repeated Delta. "Including Sharp."
Nova shook her head. "I still can't believe you're dating someone within the program, Delta. You shouldn't fraternize with someone who could die any second in the mission."
Pierce chuckled lightly. "You need to let loose, Nova. You're so uptight. If I were in love. I'd rather spend my precious few days with them than live life in regret."
"What's what Sharp and I tell each other all the time."
"Pft, Okay, stop Delta." bemused Nova. "You're going to give me diabetes."
The shorter woman retorted, "As if you've never kissed anyone."
"Never," the blonde replied honestly with upmost conviction.
"ACHOO."
A happy Raynor was mingling with his friends in the Hyperion Cantina, and looked up to the sniffling Tosh. "Hey, you alright man?"
"It be nothin', brother." reassured the spectre as he wiped his nose.
"Let's keep talking while we walk to the training hall." said Pierce.
Nova complied as the three comrades made their way down the hall.
Were they her comrades? Maybe even friends? Things like that were always confusing for Nova, who found it difficult to form attachments to anyone in her life for a myriad of reasons.
But after what they've all been through in recent times, especially the other two, Nova could admit that, yes, they were... close associates.
"You're still coming to that party? Right Nova?"
"... Yes, Delta."
"Awesome!" she enthused excitedly. Suddenly she clutched her stomach, her happy expression twisted in pain, and she doubled over, stopping all three as Nova and Pierce held her steady.
"Delta, are you alright?" asked Nova worriedly.
"I'm alright..." grunted Delta. "Just the usual phantom pains."
Nova watched her expression and sensed the pain, it was still overbearingly painful despite Delta putting up a strong face.
"It's my turn, Nova." said Pierce. He pulled out a medicine bottle and gave Delta a pain-killer pill, which she quickly swallowed.
"Thanks, Pierce." she said with exertion.
"Can you still work with the trainees?" ask Nova.
"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."
-5:12 P.M.-
"I'm sorry Nova, but your petition to transfer back into the residence of the Academy has been denied... for the 15th time."
Nova glared furiously at the petition sheet that slid back to her across the desk, with big fat red letters stamped over it. The hand that moved the paper belonged to a laid-back blonde man, who freaking propped his feet onto his desk, dared to dress in a normie sweater, in a disorganized, messy office strewn with papers and other crappy junk.
This was the new director of the Academy, the man responsible for the... wimpification of everything in the Ghost program. He had control over the training regime, who lives here, what they eat, their schedule, the dress code, etc ETC ETC.
Now almost every former operative lives across the city, gets to visit their families, ask for vacations, are fed the same slop rations but flavored, get 10 minute breaks, have insured health coverage, and get to dress in whatever gimmicks they wanted when not actively training.
They even get paid.
All so Valerian could get good publicity for the public.
Director Alex Jones spread his hands. "Do I have to tell you the reason again?"
Nova droned. "It's because the Academy's received a ton of applications for psionically-gifted children and I've been kicked out to make room for the new Dorm program."
"Exactly! Ever since we reformed the Academy, people have finally stopped hiding their children and are flocking to this Academy." He tapped the desk. "Never before have we received this many recruits! This where people can become truly gifted; just think of how we can apply psychics to the workforce beyond the lives of super soldiers, and yet here you are still insisting on living here 24/7. So why do you keep doing this, I wonder?"
Nova snatched the paper, not caring if it crumpled in her crushing grip. "Maybe it's because I don't like you."
Had she spoken that to the last director barely two months ago, she would have been subjected to severe mind-wiping and intense psychological tests out of fear for even the slightest disobedient tendencies.
Instead, the director just waved. "The feeling's kinda mutual. Still the best ghost in the academy, but complains the most!"
"Remind me again why these changes are necessary, Director."
The director leaned across the desk, waving a finger. "We're thinking about this long-term, Nova. Valerian doesn't want to pick another fight with anyone in the sector, and if this peace lasts for a long time, the Ghost program will have to reflect that peace. Why are we spending so much money to turn actual human beings into weapons? Blades that'll be cleaned and sharpened over and over again never to actually spill blood? We gotta give these ghosts life again so they're not just... ghosts of the people they could be. Productive members of society."
"What if we start another war? Will we be ready then?" she asked rhetorically.
"Trust me. We will be ready. It's all a matter of compromise." He gave a mock smile and gestured towards the door. "You're free to go, Terra."
Nova stomped out of the office, fuming as she exited the Academy. Her shift had already ended after a mere 8 hours.
It's not fair. The trainees were given dorms in the Academy and expected to undergo intense physical and psionic training for up to 12 hours.
So why is it that she, the best of the best, required a freaking work schedule no more than 8 hours a day?!
She's a government operative, the one they'd call in the Dominion's time of need, why is she being treated like a civilian?
Unless it's because she... failed?
She shook her head and instead focused on starting up her car.
She returned to her apartment complex. With a sigh, she marched towards the entrance.
But something caught her attention. Near the entrance, she saw two cats in a tense stand-off. One was a black cat, and the other the same grey shorthair that caught her rat.
The black cat darted with a snarl, but the grey cat smacked its snout, halting it mid-charge.
Enraged, the black cat tried to close in with scratches and biting. Even with the snarling mess of fur and claws quite literally pressed against its face and chest, the grey cat simply turned its head away from the onslaught with a bored expression and batted the black cat until it was subdued.
One swipe from its paw clawed across the black cat's face, forcing it to back off.
The aggressor's tail was stiffly raised and puffed, whilst the grey cat's own tail lay limp next to it as it sat and stared down its opponent.
Sensing the reality of the situation, the black cat fled, unable to dethrone the grey cat from its territory.
Nova had watched the whole exchange with morbid curiosity and was disappointed the fight ended swiftly. She headed to her apartment and opened the door.
Something furry brushed pass her jeans, and to her surprise the grey cat had entered the humble abode.
"What the?-"
The feline immediately leaped for Nova's couch and made itself comfortable on the cushy surface.
"What are you doing?" she pointed to the door. "Get out of my apartment."
The grey cat just stared at her with half-lidded eyes, not giving a shit as Nova halfheartedly fumed.
She could do a number of terrible things to that fluffy, domineering cat. Shoot it. Snap its neck. Mindblast its brain, heart, or anything really. But...
Ah. Why bother? If the cat really wanted to sit on her couch, she could respect its resolve.
Nova had finished her microwave steak dinner, and the cat was still milling about on her couch. She joined in and sat a good feet away from the feline as it stared at her.
Now she's curious. She's never felt the fur of a cat before, or... if she ever did back in her childhood, she couldn't remember. The ghost slowly haunted her fingers towards that exposed back.
The cat hissed, its hairs bristling in response to her attempt.
Nova pursed her lip and pointed to the cat, and managed to flinch it. "Hey! You're the one who made yourself comfortable in my house! Behave and don't you give me that shit!"
The animal growled, baring its teeth as Nova made direct eye contact, a challenge. But eventually it calmed, having been satisfied with Nova's firm stand, and allowed her to pet its skin.
It was soft, and registered touch much differently than Nova imagined. She had a feeling of familiarity - maybe she once had a cat in her youth. She smiled as she continued the motions, and the cat purred in grudging contentment.
The ghost thought back to when the cat dueled another of its kind. She imagined the feel of battle, the rush and adrenaline behind each blow and the mindset towards out-smarting and overpowering your opponent.
That gave her an idea...
-The Next Morning-
"Alright!" called Nova. "I'll be heading to work now. You stay here while I'm gone."
The cat shot up from its resting spot on the couch, suddenly awake. But it was too late, Nova had already closed the front door behind her.
It walked towards the metal door; staring briefly before scratching away and meowing all for naught.
Director Jones strolled along the balcony that oversaw the entirety of the Academy's dojo, where about a hundred trainees, from teenagers to young adults, were training below. The regime was neatly organized, with classes practicing combat forms in groups and arranged duels between combatants engaged in contests of superhuman speeds, strengths, and reflexes. Most of the trainees were lower class-members.
Standing at the center of the balcony was Preceptor Gerald Yagoda, his sunken face and eyes staring down upon the trainees with a barren expression. He only bothered to turn his attention when Director Jones called out.
"Howdy Gerald."
"It's Yagoda," spat the preceptor. "What do you want?"
The Director handed a dossier for Yagoda to inspect; within it were the test results of the Academy's aptitude tests.
"The average student-," said Jones, using the word 'student' specifically, "-is doing well in operating firearms, physical fitness, squad based operations, espionage, all that crap. Same with the psionic tests, which are very promising. However, they're doing poorly in close-quarters-combat exercises. That's something we need to step up."
"Tch," sneered Yagoda. "They're assassins. Stealth operatives. I shan't wasting time teaching them silly martial arts."
The Director pushed in his glasses. "I would like to point out that during the Second Great War, Dominion ghost demonstrated horrible performance rates against the brutal counter-espionage tactics of Raynor's spectre agents. Often we've had incidents of ghosts and spectres literally bumping into each other while cloaked, and the terrazine-enhanced physique of the latter easily crushed our ghosts."
"And must I mention... the 'Disaster of 103'?" continued Jones before Yagoda could answer back. "Thanks to Mengsk, we've lost way too many experienced operatives in a single mission. That is embarrassing and unacceptable. Out of the hundreds of psychics training in this installation, less than 30 are graduates. We need them prepare for anything."
"And that is why I approved Nova's petition to lead this training exercise."
Yagoda raised a brow as his gaze descended to the dojo. While Jones had been blabbering on, all the trainees had gathered on one side of the arena.
Delta and Pierce watched as Nova paced at the center of the arena garbed in her training suit.
"Pierce. What's this about?"
"I think Nova is going to release her frustrations on the trainees."
"Oh, so that's why she seems more energetic than usual. In a good or bad way?"
Pierce just shrugged as Nova spoke out.
"Alright, slackers. All of you are doing a shitty job on your CQC tests. Get it in your head that you're ghosts, the best the Dominion has to offer. You're supposed to be the pinnacle of human evolution, and normally, I wouldn't give a crap about that sentimental shit. But desperate times calls for desperate measures. So here's the deal. If any one of you can land three hits on me, you get extra credit for your next CQC test. You'll drop out if you give up or get knocked out of the arena. Acknowledged?"
Murmurs broke out amongst the trainees as Nova stood firm, awaiting their response. You'd have to be blind, deaf, and straight-up brain dead to not know Nova's probably the strongest pure Terran in the entire sector. A class 10 psionic, who could match up to that?
One of them ran onto the arena with a confident posture
"I'll fight you, Nova!" He immediately entered a standard combat stance - a solid form with both fists brought to bear at his front and feet spread wide.
"You're Stone?" asked Nova. "A psi index of 7. Not bad. Are you ready for this challenge?"
"I'm strong on the offense and defense. How hard can three hits be?"
Nova scoffed, and fell into her own combat stance.
Her feet were spread parallel to her sides, not as wide as Stone's footing.
Her body was turned so her right shoulder faced Stone.
The left fist was kept close to her chest.
Extended forward was her right fist, which blossomed into a caged hand, like a claw.
Nova snapped into her combat mindset, and a hopeful glee spurred within as she stared down her opponent, her prey.
The tense stand off lasted for a brief moment as they observed each others forms. But soon, the battle broke out.
Stone took the offensive, the tension in his feet released as they crashed the ground with his psionic-enhanced burst of speed.
But Stone still needed to close the considerable gap between them for his attack.
Years of fighting and experience lit up in her mind. Nova waited for that painfully long duration before she snatched and swatted aside Stone's incoming fist with her extended claw-hand, allowing her reserved fist to crash against the full forward momentum of his exposed chest.
Stone was thrown back, his chest stinging as his ribs rattled, but managed to brush it off, quickly resume his posture and press the attack.
Her rigid training lectured in her mind. When taking the evasive, be fast and nimble. Your entire body must move fast. Remember this, Agent.
Nova felt the lightness in her body as she leaped away on her nimble feet, her eyes suddenly lazily unfocused in Stone's general direction. In contrast, he was wide-eyed, and screamed a battle cry to power his heavy strikes.
Her legs and midsection were finally free to breath and burn as she worked to dodge, feeling Stone's near strikes through the air-drag created by their speed. She finally felt her muscles ache as her eyes trained on each of Stone's limbs and her own hands worked to strike away his muscular arms.
True to his word, he was very solid on his offense. Each punch and jab could do terrible terrible damage to Nova's lighter frame if they fully connected. One of his strikes landed against her shoulder, and the stinging pain in her bone persisted as she stumbled. She was shocked alert.
The crowd was cheering for Stone.
Pierce and Delta were watching the duel.
So were Director Jones and Preceptor Yagoda.
Eventually... Nova realized she was afraid.
Afraid...
...that this fight would end way too shortly.
Stone smiled after scoring one hit. He had a chance!
The excitement energized his next assault as Nova spun, ducked, and lept away to escape Stone's attacks.
She felt the wind rush by as her body flew through the air in her last acrobatic fall back. Nonetheless, Stone attacked as she finished landing, his foot slamming firmly into her stomach.
The crowd roared again as a straight-faced Nova broke her fall with a roll and resumed her posture.
Two out of three.
She allowed a smile to stretch across her once stoic face.
This is going to be fun. Time to test his defense.
Stone was eager to land the third hit, but he almost stumbled when he realized Nova was suddenly walking towards him, with posture relaxed and green eyes staring him down behind a predatory smile. It was then he realized just how tall a person Nova was. With his combat posture, she was tall enough to look down upon him, and getting even taller as she drew closer...
Fear exploded across his body. His legs became shaky. But he was so close. Just one more hit!
Not wanting to let the more experienced ghost make the first move, he charged and struck.
Nova grabbed Stone's attacking arm and landed another solid strike against his shoulder.
Her experience told her mind something different. It gleefully told her... When you attack your prey. Do not waste time and energy fighting them. You are hunting them. Break them. Make them weaker. Then you strike. Them. Down!
As Stone stumbled back to recover from Nova's counterattack, she kept her feet firm on the ground to close in. Her eyes swiveled ever so slightly in their sockets to pick apart his openings, and she silently struck out.
A fist to the thigh.
A foot to his shin.
Her analytical mind blanked out as she relentlessly attacked his right leg. Stone could only cry out in pain as he fruitlessly attempted to block the attacks slipping through his defenses.
The moment passed and she ended her assault, circling Stone.
The young man winced as soreness and pain infected the entirety of his one leg. His breaths were heavy, hoping to will away the burning sensation. He desperately needed to stand, but could not bear to support his weight on both.
The moment's adrenaline passed, and he eventually allowed himself to collapse onto a knee.
Nova lashed forward with a flurry of punches and swipes, forcing Stone on the defensive.
He grew frantic. He couldn't move anywhere! His arms ached from resisting Nova's rapid attacks that were rocking his sockets.
Eventually, the strain became too great. His bulky arms slowed until they could only manage sloppy movements.
Nova seized the giant opening, latching her fingers over his face and slammed his back against the ground. She finished with planting her boot against his chest, standing over her kill.
Stone clawed against the firm limb squeezing him against the ground, but relented and fell limp.
"I give up..."
Nova removed her foot, allowing Stone to stand back up, recover, and limp off the arena. He was sore and bruised, but fortunately that was all he had to endure.
Though reassured that Stone would ultimately be fine, Director Jones struggled to hide his shock.
"That was... unnecessarily brutal."
Yagoda cackled. "Such is the uniqueness of Nova's fighting style. She was trained just like every other recruit in the Academy, but somehow developed this ruthlessly efficient technique on her own over the years. It's distinctly... alien." He finished with a morbid smile.
Nova paced along the arena as she eyed the silent trainees. She spoke, barely winded from the fight. "Now you see why this training is crucial! A spectre would show you no mercy if they have a chance to kill you. And if you ever have the bad luck to face a protoss..." she paused, gritting her teeth. "...you're going to need everything you can muster just to survive."
"Who else wants to fight!?"
No one else spoke. Nova stared at the awkward crowd for several seconds so tense it could break like a thin wall of glass trying to stop a rampaging ultralisk.
Eventually, she just sighed, turned around, and briskly left the dojo, her mounting frustration slipping through with one uttered sentence.
"You're all fucking pansies."
She left the exercise she started, leaving the trainees mumbling among themselves awkwardly. Delta sighed whilst Pierce shook his masked head.
-Later...-
"Everything's just not the same anymore, Delta..." said Nova as she sat on a wooden chair.
"Cheer up, Nova. You know the trainees are still green. Just relax for now."
She stared back at Delta from across the table where they sat, in a quaint little restaurant somewhere in the hub of Augustgrad. The lights were bright and cheery, the sound of conversation echoed across the air, and Nova was once again dressed in her sweatpants and flannel.
"You don't get it. No one's taking things seriously anymore."
"It's just you, girl." said Delta as she sipped her coffee through a straw.
"We're special operatives! Not normies."
"But we're people just like anyone else." Delta chuckled. "Honestly Nova. I think it's great we get t'do all these things, like sittin' together in a restaurant on a girls' night out."
"It's only 5:00 P.M."
"Same thing" dismissed Delta. "I'm actually surprised you accepted the invitation for this outin'."
"Don't know if I should regret it..."
"You're lucky I'm still your friend," quipped Delta jokingly. Her eyes lit up when a moderately built, brown-haired waiter came to their table.
"Hello Delta."
"Sharp!" They leaned in and shared a brief kiss as Nova stared bewildered.
"Sharp?!" she said with a raised voice. "You work here?"
"Hey! Don't judge me, Nova." retorted the ghost casually. "I wanted to make a little more money on the side. I found my family again, but they're running on hard times due to the Second Great War, so I'm supporting them with my two jobs."
"Being a ghost isn't just an occupation, Sharp." began Nova's lecture. "It's a duty and a way of life."
Sharp waved it off in a friendly matter. "Same thing you always say. Let's try this again like normal people. Would you two lovely ladies like anything on the menu?"
After finishing their dinner (With Delta insisting Nova eat more than a simple well-done steak with broccoli), the two young women bade goodbye to Sharp and continued their way across the streets of Augustgrad. The sun was setting in the sky, allowing the city lights to slowly grow brighter.
"Hey Nova." said Delta, eyeing the wide variety of stores they were passing by. "Maybe you would consider going on a shoppin' mission?"
"Come on, Delta. You know me already. There's nothing I'd want to buy around here."
Delta hummed, then suddenly doubled over clutching her stomach with a grunt of pain. Nova halted and held her steady.
"Delta? Are you alright?"
"Ah~ Nova! I'm in so much pain and it'll only go away ifyougoshoppin'withme!"
"Shut up, Delta! You're embarrassing us in public. I'll go shopping with you!"
That did the trick. Delta perked up. "See? Was that so hard? Now we just gotta decide what to buy."
Nova sighed in amusement and scanned her surroundings for anything that could possibly catch her attention.
Clothes. Plushies. Pet Store. Gun Store.
Nova pulled her eyes away from the gun store full of the latest civilian fire-arms she could get her hands on - Ghosts weren't allowed access to their weapons when off duty.
The pet store. Hm.
Nova was about to take her first step of the mission, and was suddenly yanked on her arm by Delta.
"The clothes in that store look lovely! Let's try some on you!"
Oh no...
In the end, Nova did not buy any clothes to Delta's disappointment. Nor did Nova get to browse the wide variety that is the gun catalog.
Instead, she walked towards her apartment door having wisely spent her earnings on a metal bowl and a bag carrying dry and wet cat foods. Expertly balancing all her items in one arm, she unlocked the door with her free hand and entered her private haven.
"I'm home. How are you... Ah shit."
She discovered her table had been destroyed, with the cat gazing back furiously ontop a pile of wood chippings. The legs were clawed to the bare bone.
The cat meowed, and Nova could sense how truly upset the creature was. It walked towards her as the table collapsed behind.
Nova returned the stare as its paw reached up her legs, feeling no guilt for the damage it had done. That would teach the human.
"Sigh."
Nova dumped the can of wet food into the metal bowl and set it down in front of the cat, where it bent down and gorged itself happily. The blonde woman placed her own bowl of oatmeal on the floor next to it, lied down on her belly, and began shoveling the mix into her mouth.
The two ate heartily together, a mutual respect forming between them.
"I'll have to buy a new table to replace the one you destroyed." she said to the cat, and continued. "But you know, I think I understand why you did that. I shouldn't have locked you in. You weren't able to do the things you normally do: fight, roam around. All that pent-up energy had to go somewhere."
The cat showed no signs of listening as it stuffed its face in. Nova chuckled to herself. The best Dominion ghost, a cold and efficient assassin, was talking to a cat.
But they had a lot in common.
She swallowed a bite and looked to cat. "You know, I think this can work out. You don't take shit from other cats. And I won't take shit from other people. What do you say, Alpha?"
The cat arched its head to look at her. "Meow~"
Nova nodded to her pet. "Alpha it is then."
A/N: This single chapter was the most fun I've ever written in a story.
Delta Emblock used to be a bubbly, cheery person as a trainee in the academy before turning cold and grim by the time she graduated. I figured it'd be a waste if I didn't keep her as the cheery foil to Nova's somber, bitter persona. How often do we get to see a ghost with a brighter outlook on life?
I've had to read up how to write compelling martial arts scenes, how cats behave, and imagine plausible rules and freedoms granted to the ghosts.
I'm not a martial artist; just a fan of good films with great fighting choreography. Some research was done to the best of my ability, and hope I wrote the fight scenes well. I'm also aware that Nova doesn't seemed challenged for compelling actions scenes; this is to reflect her lack of satisfaction with the Academy and her general boredom with what life has become. There's plenty of room to create more dynamic and tense combat scenarios with greater stakes.
I've also never owned a cat, even though I'm mildly fascinated with them.
If you believe the type of lives given to the ghosts are too unrealistic or lax, please let me know your opinions for consideration.
I already have plans to write future chapters for this fanfic, or I can just finish it off as a oneshot. Let me know what you'd think.