The Sleeping Giant
A constant piece of wisdom uttered by disgruntled generals and trigger-happy politicians against liberal critics, was that war brought out the best in any nations. To a degree, it wasn't entirely false. Countless super-computers and technological devices facilitating life for people of the Koprulu Sector had originally been conceived as tools to kill people as efficiently as possible. AIs, for example, was first developed on homeland Earth to help target missiles with the greatest possible efficiency. And even today, primitive AIs were still utilized for such purposes. Some things never changed. But all the same, whatever benefit came from war was something most citizens of the Koprulu Sector could not enjoy, not when they lived in a hotbed of murderous violence where even the most boring civilians could be killed at any moment, and even the tiniest pirate militias were armed with everything from nuclear silos to Marine Corps numbering in the thousands.
Toby Dobson sat in his hotel room and toyed around with his gun, smiling bitterly to himself. He mused with the idea for some time, the concept of all weapons eventually becoming obsolete and turning into household products, like AIs. He couldn't help but wonder, then, what the Dominion's latest design would turn into eventually. If it even came to fruition, and it no doubt would. The Umojan Protectorate had rallied alongside Arcturus Mengsk against the brutal Confederacy in his early days. Before Mengsk became a blind, bloodthirsty dictator in his own right. Back in the days when he was still a young, courageous leader promising the people of Koprulu Sector peace, prosperity, and liberty. Those days were long gone, and have been gone at least since the Brood War. The Umojans watched as Mengsk grew deranged and out of control, becoming just as war-loving and bloodthirsty as the Confederacy he so hated. Eventually, they broke off all ties from him and his Dominion, leaving only pity to citizens who had to suffer the mad emperor's wrath. Mengsk had never forgiven them for it. And as they say, a man on fire never just burns: He explodes. For the last year or so, the Protectorate had been holding its breath for the inevitable explosion. Perhaps Mengsk would send a fleet to take down one of their mines, or launch a nuclear assault on one of their moons. Then, it would be war. Yes, the Umojans loved peace, but if Mengsk wanted a fight, a fight he would have. They hadn't been lazy in building up their troops either. As of that day, they could boast a fleet of over 200 Hercules-class Battle Cruiser, 70 Behemoth-class cruiser, and an entire military to go with each cruiser. They could hold their own against whatever Mengsk would throw at them.
But the explosion never came. Instead, Mengsk simply sat back and watched the Protectorate. He'd lash out against all other Terran factions he loathed, the Koprulu Liberation Front, the Kel-Morian Combine, the Raynor's Raiders, the Alliance, and sometimes, even the Trading Union. But the Protectorate, nothing. Some Umojans celebrated this as evidence that Mengsk was clearly intimidated by the size of their military. So intimidated, in fact, not even his infamous bravado could move him to raise a finger against their mighty Cruiser fleet.
Other Umojans however, were not so naïve.
"This is the calm before the storm, ladies and gentlemen. Arcturus Mengsk has yet to show us an example where someone bit him, and he simply sat back and took it. Every major Terran faction that has attempted to resist that man has suffered in some way. Why should we be the exception?" asked Councilman Rasjkub of the Ruling Council.
A murmur shook the whole council. Councilwoman Lucia rose from her seat.
"I agree with your views on this matter, councilman. But our intelligence has yet to pick up anything suspicious, or signs that the Dominion is planning to move against us. And I think it is agreed unanimously and without bias that the Umojan intelligence is the most advanced in all of the Koprulu Sector. Yes, Mengsk has proven himself to be vengeful in the past, but is it perhaps not possible that he is simply too distracted at the moment to bother with us?"
Many members of the council nodded in agreement. Rasjkub rose again, smiling mirthlessly, with a folder of papers in hand.
"Thank you for your valuable input and wisdom, Lady Lucia. But if I do criticize, your information is a bit flawed and limited. Not a fault of yours, of course, since your duties are peaceful. Most of our duties are peaceful. Not all of us keep in touch with our intelligence on a daily basis."
Rasjkub was more than just a member of the Ruling Council. Seven years ago, he was appointed the Chief Director of the Directory, the ever feared intelligence sector of the Umojan Military, and home of some of the most mind-blowingly talented espionage agents in the world. Before that, he was a commander in the Confederate Military, and helped fight in the Guild Wars, against the Kel-Morian Combine. Some Umojans still distrusted him for this, but as the years passed, it became clear that Rasjkub had abandoned his confederate ways and was converted to the Umojan way of peace and progress. Besides, they needed a man like him. A fierce, battle-axe military man who could provide them the backbone they needed. As such, he was elected to the council.
"According to the Directory's latest intelligence update, there has been an increasing in-and-out traffic surrounding the Simonson munitions factory on Korhal, the heart of the Dominion. I am sure you are all familiar with Simonson munitions factory?"
"That's not possible. That factory was locked down and closed a long time ago," voiced a councilman.
"Indeed. But that isn't where the oddities stop. Our agents' hackings of the cargos going through the factory shows deliveries of over 70,000 multunes of Battlecruiser-class steel. That is enough to create, oh, roughly a 150 Hercules-class Cruisers. Yet the Dominion's Cruiser fleet shows absolutely no signs of changing in size, while our censors show constant flows of seismic shocks from the Simonson munitions factory. Now, I would say this is something that calls for an investigation. And if I am granted permissions by the grace of the Ruling Council and our good Minister Jorgensen, an investigation is what the Directory will launch."
The permission was granted, which is why Dobson was sitting in the hotel room. Toby Dobson was not his real name, and the face he saw when he looked in the mirror was not his real face.
"Many of the effects of this surgery are permanent," he was told by the surgeon.
"Will I ever look like my old self again?"
He didn't get a reply. But after everything that happened, his face was one of the more miniscule things he'd lose from this venture. Not that it mattered. Dobson loved Umoja, and everything it represented. Peace, knowledge, freedom, and progress. And he would sooner die before he let that deranged psychopath Mengsk crush the last hope of the Koprulu Sector.
The Directory was the last line of defense against the Dominion's ruthless fist of power. Dobson was proud to be on that line.
This is just the first part of a mini-series I'm doing. As you may have guessed, yes, this is a story of Ulli Trey, the brave Umojan spy who uncovered the secret of the Thor project. Yes, I am aware that Trey was nowhere to be seen in this particular bit, but she will appear soon, I promise you. Since there is very little actually known about either Trey, or the Umojan Protectorate for that matter, I'm taking some liberties with their portrayals. I've always imagined the Umojans would be much more liberal and knowledge-loving than the Dominion or the Confederacy, from how they want peace with the Protoss, and their support for Korhal against the Confederates. And that's what showed up I guess.