Well, to start off, I've created a SC x ME fanfic and I need ways to improve on it. Character development is one of my weakest umm... whats the word again? Nevermind. So far, I've got three chapters online and a fourth on the way. Despite having two beta readers, marine3950 and JonasGrant, I cant help but feel it can be improved further more. So, I;ve come here to set up shop and see how are the responses here. Hopefully I'll learn a thing or two.
I'll start by posting the first, second and third chapter here as well as the snippet for the fourth. I welcome all sorts of responses.
Here's the prologue.
In the late 2504 as the events of Heart Of The Swarm plays out, a desperate Arcturus Mengsk deploys a twelfth of the ever dwindling Terran Dominion Royal Navy and was headed by newly appointed Admiral Backett Adams for a classified retrieval task. Why such a large force was sent on a simple retrieval mission nobody knows for they were never heard of ever again. Records scrapped the men and women under Adams' command as MIA.
This is their story.
And here's the first chapter.
Unknown Location
Unknown Time
"Personal log, Admiral Beckett Adams of the Dominion Royal Navy. Ever since I was a boy growing up on the Fringe world of Reshfields my late mother had always talked of how big and bad the universe was and how I was better off living an isolated life out in the fields of my homeworld. I didn't believe her, at least not at first. As the years went by I realized she was right, and that us Terrans knew it all too well from our past experiences with one another,"
*Scene shows Battlecruisers in low orbit launching megaton level nukes into heavily populated areas.
"The Zerg,"
*Scene shows a Zergling roaring into the camera spitting filth and slime all over it. An armored marine in the background tried to run but instead he gets tackled by multiple crack-lings and promptly ripped from limb to bloody limb.
"And the Protoss, can't forget them now can we?"
*Scene shows a losing battle of six Behemoth Class Battlecruisers swiftly bisected by high powered energy beams from a handful of Void Rays.
"And, I gotta say, commanding a leviathan of the Dominion Royal Navy for over 6 years had me exploring places where no man had gone before, seeing things no man should ever witness and experiencing what none should ever experience."
*New scene; A Minotaur Class Battlecruiser caught with it's shields down desperately tried to maintain its rapidly decaying orbit despite explosions going off in multiple sections of the ship and one could
even see the Neo-Steel ablative plating drifting away into the vast emptiness of space merrily.
It was being bashed by multiple mass-accelerated slugs too fast to be seen by the naked eye. In a final blaze of glorious defiance, the Cruiser managed an almighty power surge and spat forth its Yamato Cannon's payload before several return shots pummeled the ship's ultra-thick hide, and a lucky hit set it off in a thermonuclear explosion signaling the deaths of a thousand brave men and women.
The Cruiser's destruction did not go unanswered for the fleet it was affiliated with redoubled its efforts in thrashing the enemy vessels.
ATA laser batteries, Longbolt torpedoes and the occasional Yamato Cannon payload cut through the vastness of the void.
"6 years in the Navy and nothing surprised me anymore. I thought I'd seen it all, I was sorely tempted to visit my mother's grave about a hundred yards from my house and tell her. And tell that if that was the best this universe; God had to offer, well, he should have given us a challenge at the bloody least. Not that I'm insulting God or anything here. I'm a religious man, proud Christian to be exact, don't get me wrong, but there comes a time when all men feel doubt creeping up in the back of their minds. Like I said, I thought I'd seen every bizarre jacked-up shit-on-sticks the universe had to offer. Turns out I was wrong. Dead wrong."
*Continues scene; As the battle reached it's climax with both sides hammering away at one another, a large infiltration task force from the Terran Dominion fleet slipped through the hectic skirmish.
Orbital drop pods were inadvisable against deploying forces into the "Citadel" because its defensive capabilities were up and about.
That and the objective being one of extraction instead of creating a diversion, that job was for the Banshee gunships of the 9th Dominion Air-Cav. Extraction required subtlety and as such, Stealth Dropships loaded with Goliath Assault walkers and loaded to the brim with Marines would do the trick.
The men were all veterans in urban warfare and had seen their fair share of rebellion and invasion. They were part of the 32nd "Laughing Hydras" regiment, and their specialty were a bastardized mix of stealth and diversionary tactics.
Their commander was Lieutenant Mason "Skull", his call-sign derived from him surviving a Hydralisk spine directly to the head. Without a doubt he's a mean motherfucker.
His CMC-300 was freshly pressed from the armory after he lost his in a smash-and-grab op against a Khalai Protoss tribe known as the "Sargas", thus his current suit had that deep red color which eventually turns orange after wear-and-tear as well as strong paint odor which goes away after about a day later.
CMDR Mason "Skull" Erde
CTD-001 "Citadel", Unknown Vector
Unknown Time
I miss my old suit. That old piece of shit had all my music files built into its mainframe, now that it's trashed I get stuck in this chicken-shit outfit filled with nothing but old country music.
The others were oddly silent, normally on drops they'd be the loudmouthed pricks that they are. I guess it has something to do with the Admiral stuck down in hostile territory.
"Yo Alvarez, whas' our status to touchdown?" hollered Davis from the back.
"Time on target 60 seconds, you'll get some boom time soon enough," replied our pilot over the intercom.
The other guys out back did last minute checks on equipment, a couple would bang fists as last minute 'good luck'. we had a Marauder out back, probably loading some Punisher Grenades into his arm cannons.
I heard he was new, and as a plus, he's a volunteer.
God I hate volunteers, unlike the ressoced Marines who shoot first, ask questions later, they tend to be idealistic and optimistic, always shooting their pieholes off about making a change back home or being big fuckin' war heroes.
Pfft, bitch please.
In the end they all go home in body bags. Marines kill and die, plain and simple. There's no 'fighting the good fight'. We fight to earn our freedom, not for the ideals of one megalomaniac. But this one strapped to the Marauder armor kept his trap shut since the start of the drop so, I'll just have to wait and see what type of person he really is.
The hull began to rumble violently, catching all of us off guard. I fell flat on my face and used the hand rails to pick myself up.
"Pilot, what the hell is goin' on? We being shot at?" I grunted fiercely as I plonked my ass back on the chair.
"Uh, turbulence, its nothing serious. Hostile fire has been redirected thanks to diversionary runs the 9th Air-Cav pulled off. ETA to insertion point, 30 seconds."
I stole a glimpse on my suit integrity displayed on my HUD before addressing my kids. Technically most of these resocced jarheads are older than me, but nonetheless, they give me the proper respect I deserve.
Now, time to ruffle some feathers.
*opens channel to Alpha, Bravo and Charlie squads.
"Hydras, listen up!" The men in the dropship immediately turned snapped to attention due to the fact an officer is addressing them. That and the resocialization they'd received. I looked around the cargo directly into their eyes, damn good soldiers, every last one of em'.
"Admiral Adams is trapped in an alien hellhole. He is surrounded, his escorts are runnin' dry on ammo. We're the goddamn cavalry. I'd expect radio silence and nothing less than military discipline and gratuitous violence from every last one of you dickheads when we hit dirt. "
The Marauder at the back gave a short burst of synthesized giggling, if you'd call it that. "You..said dickhead..man thats funny,"
"What're you laughin' at, cocksucker?" I growled, more like barked. The others turned and faced him. He's new, he doesn't know me, well I'm gonna fix that in a jiff.
"I'm waiting for answer, Private! Your words or your brains against the walls; I'll have either."
"Oh. Uh, uh, N-nothin, sah', just trying to lighten the mood, 'sall."
"Whats your name, boy?" I strode over to him and shoved my face into his sealed helmet. I had to tiptoe though, these Marauder suits are tall.
"Private-"
"I didn't ask for no rank, gimme a name. Now." My voice was deadly grim and low. But I'm actually laughing inside, I love it when these newborns writhe and twist in anxiety.
"Ray, Ray Destropes from Korhal, sir!"
Kid has a nice name, I can tell you that. My armored finger stabbed his chest-plate as I made my point across.
"Alright Ray, I'm gonna let you off lightly this time, after this drop you report straight to the mess hall for toilet duty. 2 weeks."
"O-of course, s-sir."
I turned and punched open the hatch. Alarms blared as the landing pads lowered revealing Anti-aircraft fire going off in every direction except ours, those crazy flyboys from the 9th must've taken a significant amount of losses just so we could do this. And I'm makin' sure their efforts aren't wasted.
"Alright grunts, we will be jumping instead of landing, as soon as Alvarez gives us the go we move! Get your kit packed and yourselves ready, Ooh-rah to ashes!"
The blocks in this section of the Citadel carried little to no sign of shops or offices, so we could be in some kind of living quarters.
"Nice place, always wanted to settle down in a setting like this," mumbled Ortega as he shut his visor. It brought a smile to my face, it's true the Marine in question was a little tired of blood and guts. He needs just a little under a year before the Corps release him.
But in the situation he's been dealt, that future's pretty much gone. Davis banged a fist on his shoulder plate in reassurance. Davis, well he's got a big heart, yet his imposing figure says otherwise.
Pretty much everyone thinks him as a big friendly giant.
The lights suddenly flashed into a deep teal hue. It's go time.
"Alright, move it jarheads and shoot some of the bastards for me willya'?"
voiced the pilot over the intercom. Ficks gave her a reassuring, "Ooh-rah!" and racked the slide of his Gauss Rifle.
I jumped first, 10 feet wasn't a big deal when you're strapped in a few hundred pounds of Neo-Steel. My enormous boots sunk into the inorganic tiles and absorbed the shock. Behind me came a 'Laughing Hydra', then another and another until everyone was present, including the Goliath escorts.
"Spread out Hydras, form me a perimeter!" I growled. No words were exchanged as we executed our sweeps.
"Clear,"
"Clear!"
"Clear!"
The Goliaths strode off with Bravo and Charlie squad, their reinforced legs mashing each tile they step on. Alpha squad remained. I have a job for them.
I spotted something of interest and snapped my fingers to get my boys' attention.
"Alpha, get someone to jack into that console there and dig up information, maybe we can find a shortcut."
A Marine began accessing that thing while the others covered his exposed sections.
"El-tee, this goddamn thing is un-fucking accessible, gimme' thirty seconds tops,"
I groan inwardly, we don't have thirty seconds of stalling, the Admiral's counting on us. Not a moment later someone tried to reach me on the Command channel.
"This is Skull, go ahead,"
I gruffly hissed, trying to sound fierce like any other serving Marine in the Terran Dominion. But when I recognized who was on the other end nearly made me piss myself in front of my subordinates, it was Captain Durandal, the one overseeing this Op.
He's one of the original few 'Sons Of Korhal' back when Mengsk ran his little rebellion against the Confederacy. He's my CO, mentor, and my cousin who was twice removed. Did I mention every Marine in this battle group venerates him similar to General Horace Warfield himself?
"Lieutenant, what's the skinny down there?" He demanded with a thick Fringe-Worlder accent.
I glanced around, observing the men whom were all deathly silent, not wanting to bring any unwanted attention bearing down on us.
"Just touched down, delayed 30 seconds. We're moving off ASAP." I spoke briskly.
"Understood. We have a fix on your position, the Admiral is half a klick East from where you're located. Proceed with caution,"
I closed the link when someone whispered over the local net, "Heads up guys, I spotted an enemy patrol closing in on our location. Ugly xenos and one's armed with what appears to be a sniper rifle. We gotta' move now or take em' out."
"We take em' now!" whooped La'Beow. I held my hand signaling them to hold their horses. Seems like they're forgetting who's in charge here.
"No, too much at stake here, we move now. These Goliaths here are big profiles and I don't wanna give ourselves away. The Admiral is counting on us. Alpha get back here and take point."
Samuel Irons was Alpha squad's leader. He was once a notorious butcher back in the hey-days of the Confederacy, but neural resocialization made him the good soldier that he is today. He comms me in acknowledgment, and continues that the console was useless anyway.
'Wasted 30 precious seconds, way to go, Mason. Real smooth.' I thought angrily.
We trekked through the place, and found a sign in 'English' which read 'Presidium Commons'. It wasn't banged up as we thought it would be, which meant the flyboys haven't been doing a good job thrashing this place after all.
"Too quiet. " Someone whispered,
"Remember Seprus Prime?" another chipped in unhelpfully.
"Remember I told you to stay off the comms unless it's important?" I growled and immediately all was silent.
What the hell? Oh no, I'm having none of this!
"Charlie squad your guys are too packed, spread out a little, don't bunch up."
The marines kept their distance a little further while Goliath attached to them made occasional swivels just to make sure they've done their sweeps well.
Through my visor I scanned for lifesigns and - Fuck me sideways...I got twenty bio signatures and it ain't us.
"I got readings!" spoke Taylor over the net in a sing-song voice. Probably because he gets to pop something after all.
"Stay frosty, yo, this the wild west." someone I didn't recognize whisper over the net. I replied a silent, "Ooh-Rah" in agreement.
We did the best we could in that situation, tighten the sweeps and loose ends in our formation. All the while I prayed that the bio scans we've picked up are just non-combatants hiding from plain sight. This was where the alien civvies live right? So it could just be them taking cover from all the fighting going around.
A fight on our hands means a delay to reaching and securing Admiral Adams. A buttload amount of haste is required for this mission.
We then came upon a – Oh shit!
I quickly held up a closed fist and our group came to an abrupt halt and surveyed our surroundings. Just as I thought, perfect place for an -
"Ambush!" roared Ray as an RPG smashed into one of our Goliaths and detonating in a dazzling fireball. The walker tilted sideways before it regained composure, sparks and loose wiring came a' dangling but otherwise it was still combat effective.
Thank god my suit's mufflers muted most of the shockwave and explosion, it could have given me a helluva concussion. First came panicked the cries over the local net, next came enemy fire.
By the looks of things, I'd say we're being pelted by full automatics and the shots originated from all along the upper floors.
No words needed be spoken as we all dived under whatever form of cover we could find. The Goliaths pounded the upper floors with suppressive fire with their twin 30mm Autocanons. Visibility became zero as dust kicked up and stuck to our visors, targeting systems became moot and we were left with no choice but the Impaler's iron sights.
We returned fire, or, we tried to but were unable to identify our targets. They were too dug in and well hidden within the upper floors, snapping off some shots before ducking back into cover. I quickly noticed enemy fire beginning to slacken, either they're reloading or the Goliath cannons are bringing too much heat.
Either way, it's time to dish out some pain. Above the din of bullets pelting all around us, I hollered over the comms.
"Sergeant Brutus take Bravo and hunker down that pile of rubble over there, it'll give you defilade from most of the fire and a flanking position!"
"Aye sir! Nathaniel and Orlav hustle up, we movin' in Five!"
*Opens General Channel
"Hydras, be advised, Bravo squad is moving for flank route!" I screamed and switched to firing from the hip. The others did the same, there no sense in aiming really, with almost little to no visual on a target the best we could do was to shoot back. Short controlled bursts instead of spray and pray.
Once in a while, that Marauder, Ray would launch a Punisher Grenade and then swiftly douse back into cover. His payload flew straight and true before impacting upon something before a cry of pain could be heard.
"Hey, I think I got one!" - PVT Destropes
"Nice work kid, now shoot the other one thousand!" - PFC Orlav
Punishers are nasty, if the grenades didn't kill you outright you'd be having to deal with the concussion for the rest of the day.
Some of our guys took hits, shots impacted upon their chestplates but otherwise turned out alright. Sadly we had yet to hit one of those sneaky fucks. I emptied what was left in my clip and watched in satisfaction as the spikes shattered the air around my target; A shadowy silhouette clad in a skin-suit of sorts, thus forcing him back into cover.
"This is Bravo, moving now, over!" - SGT Brutus
"Confirmed, go! Go! Rest of you, give our Hydras some covering fire goddammit!" I shrieked. Long burts lit up from our C-14's muzzles and chewed away at any potential cover housing the opposing forces.
Once Bravo squad had a good defilade from enemy fire, their C-14s sang an orchestra of death once more.
This was a game of cat and mouse. One side would pop out of cover, squeeze off and disappear before the opposing forces could get a bead on any of them. However, this disfavored us because of our bulky frames. That and we didn't have time for games.
"Cranker One and Two, direct your fire over to where I'm lasing, over!" I brought the laser sight onto one of the upper floors where most of the attackers are dug in.
"Five-By-Five," - Cranker-01
"Copy, shifting to engage," - Cranker -02
Both the Goliaths coordinated their attacks; swiveling their twin canons in a general direction before pounding and chewing upon alien steel. I grinned when my audio systems picked up what appeared to be multiple cries of pain. About time they start dying.
"Need a heavy weapons specialist front and center!" I spoke over the net, hoping that someone would acknowledge.
"Lieutenant, its Ray, point me at em' and I'm good to go!" The Marauder's good but his armaments aren't suited for anti-infantry tasks. I needed something to flush these cocksuckers out. A 40mm HE Grenade would do wonders here.
"No Private, you stay where you are!" I sharply barked and hadn't heard from him then. To my right someone banged on my shoulder-plate.
"El-tee, heard ya need a support specialist, I'm ya' man,"
I turned and faced the marine to my right, IFF tag indicated "CPL Kowalski" His C-14 was affixed with a 40mm grenade launcher attachment compared to regular Gauss Rifles which came with bayonets.
"Kowalski, you got any juice in that grenade launcher?" I practically roared in his Hydralisk decorated visor as some stray rounds skimmed past my suit. We don't know the extent of the damage dealt by enemy weapons. For now all we know is that our suits could withstand it but I wasn't inclined to find out for how long.
He nodded and prepped his attachment as the fighting took its second minute.
"Set!"
He yelled.
Charlie squad shifted and bought time for Kowalski to get into a suitable firing position.
"Now would be a good time, sweetheart!"
I cried as some rounds embedded itself into my chest-plate.
*Suit Integrity: 78%
Not bad, considering regular Gauss Rifle spikes normally kill on site. Over the coms I finally heard Kowalski yell, "40 mike mike out!" There was a Thunk! sound and then an explosion rocked one of the upper floors sending debris and three screaming bodies crashing down to their deaths.
2 Terrans and 1 ugly birdfaced Alien. There wasn't time to inspect the gear they carried, we just kept on firing and they did the same until we heard someone gave a holler and it wasn't any one of us.
"Fall back to a C-Sec checkpoint and regroup! There's too many!"
As enemy fire slowly died down, I got everyone check into their suit status. Thankfully nobody got a suit integrity below 60%. We're goddamn professionals after all.
My gauntleted hand swept forward as we all got out of cover.
"Forward, watch those corners. Admiral Adams is just 200 yards away."
Davis piped in, "Into the belly of tha' beast right?"
Ray popped in and made us all laugh. "Yeah, and now the demon's ass,"
Just another glorious day in the Corps.
Admiral Beckett Adams POV.
Augustgrad, Korhal
2505, January 1st
New Year's Day. I stared through the plexi-glass of my apartment hotel room at the endless traffic which plagued the seven skies of Korhal. It amazes me that even at the very edge of our demise, the citizens just carry on with their daily routines.
But I suppose it's a better alternative than causing a meltdown in human civilization.
My weary eyes tailed a passing A2 Armored Mechanical Hybrid or "Viking", as it's called. You don't get to see Vikings in public much, the fact that they are now openly patrolling the skies of Korhal shows just how desperate we are getting.
Once the hybrid mech disappeared behind a tall tower under construction, I made my way back onto the sofa and proceeded to finish the last of my coffee.
I love coffee more so than any alcoholic beverage produced. It's just so rich and aromatic, unlike that pile of shit melted into liquid you call 'recaff'.
I'd wish this day would never end, wouldn't mind sitting here chugging down coffee and admiring Augustgrad for all eternity. It's become quite the sight after the Emperor has finished restoring the planet to its former glory.
Unfortunately, this is as good as it's ever going to get, for tomorrow, I'm being pulled aside to accomplish a task ordered directly by our glorious leader, Emperor Arcturus Mengsk. I'd hoped I'd be celebrating this ancient custom under far happier circumstances.
Many months had passed since our failed attempt to assassinate her. The rebel leader and mass murderer James Raynor was instead captured, tried and executed.
The Queen of Blades however has gone into hiding and remained at large.
Just under 2 weeks ago, we'd received confirmed reports that the Queen of Blades is back and better than ever. She's on the move, this time attacking our homes, our families, and our people once more with renewed vigor.
We've been fighting a losing battle ever since.
Multiple core worlds have been hit, supplies and humanitarian aid aren't getting through fast enough and to add insult to injury, the paramilitary-cum-rebel forces known to all as the Raynor's Raiders, whom we had written off as 'obselete' were on the move once more, rousing rebellion everywhere they go and performing hit-and-run attacks across the fringes of my beloved Terran Dominion.
The Kel-Morian Combine have taken advantage of this chaos and confusion by aggressively expanding into our territories while the Umojans remain elusive as ever, preferring to observe from a safe distance.
Strange thing is, all the Terran worlds hit by this new Zerg invasion were under the jurisdiction and the protection of the Terran Dominion.
Truly as the saying goes, hell hath no fury than a woman scorned.
I look down at my cup, now devoid of coffee except for the little smudges of the powder left behind. My right hand shot forward and deftly poured another helping of the inviting, piping-hot liquid.
Coffee soothes my mind, think of it as my anti-depressant, and besides, with troubling times such as these, one needs a steady supply of coffee.
My earpiece tingles all of a sudden, and on instinct my left hand shot forth and activated the two-way piece of military hardware.
"This is Adams," my tone was flat. Nobody would contact me on such a private frequency unless it's from someone important.
That... or it's just my concerned mother back on Reshfields.
"Hello?" croaked a voice I'm all too familliar with.
I gave a sigh and ran a hand through my short, black hair. It's her alright.
"Ma, I already told you, only use this channel if it's important." Her voice turned shrill when she replied and right then and there I wished I could just off myself.
"Don't ya' talk to your ma like that! I can call up my boy anytime and anyway I want!" I had to play the good guy here, it's never respectful to raise your voice in front of your elders. Hey, don't blame me I had a really strict upbringing.
"Yeah, I know that ma, but this is only for emergencies and there are other important people who might try to-"
"What'd ya mean by that Adam? Ain't your ma the most important person in ya' whole life?"
I could easily retort by saying Emperor Arcturus Mengsk, FleetCom just to name a few. But I won't. I'm a good son, at least I try to be.
"Yeah, you are, without a doubt ma, but-"
"But nothin'. If it's your ma' who's callin', then ain't nobody else important. 'Cept Jesus,"
I inhaled and exhaled once, twice and thrice before resuming the conversation.
"Of course ma, I'm sorry. So why'd you call me up for?"
"Just checkin' on my lil' boy. And why're you breathin' so hard just now? Didja' had sex with another woman?"
Wait, what? Damn this woman has a strong sense of imagination.
"No! God no, ma. With that Zerg bitch runnin' about ain't nobody got time for that! And I'm 32 for cryin' out loud. Stop making me sound like a kid! It makes me feel, you know, like a kid."
"Of course you' a kid, you always be. Like you said son, you're 32 and still single, your pa married me when he was 24. Your granpappy tied the knot when he was 19. Ma aint gettin' younger by the day, Adams. When you gonna settle down and gimme' some grandkids?"
I groaned inwardly. We've been having this conversation for a couple of years now, and she never fails to bring it up every single time we meet. She means well, but I'm in the Navy for christsake!
It's not like you can just walk up and say "Hey, I've had enough of this so I'm gonna settle down, get a job in the farms, get married, and get me some kids,"
"Ma, we ain't having this conversation again. I told you, this is my career, and I've invested too much of my life into this. Look, I'm the first man in the Koprulu sector to have ever made Admiral in his early thirties, can't you be more proud of my achievements? I promise once this war's over, I'll settle down and then we can properly discuss about kids."
There was a sigh of defeat on the other side of the line, and my mom's voice immediately became several pitches softer.
"I know boy, but, ma's not gonna be around for a very long time. With the Zerg acting up I'm just worried I might lose you just like how I lost your father to the Guild Wars. But you're right, you're a grown man and I should respect your decisions. I gotta go son, be sure to hold on to your promise,"
She's probably holding back her tears. When dad died in the war nobody took it any harder than her and she gets very emotional each time someone brings it up. I gotta divert the situation or I'll turn emotional as well.
"Well alright then, be sure to take your medication and drink plenty of water. Don't worry ma, your son's one tough sunnava bitch. He'll pull through this and then he's gonna marry the hottest babe in the Sector and then we can talk about having grandkids. I love you ma,"
"Love ya' too sweetheart,"
The line terminated. Leaving me stranded on the sofa with a tear sliding down my cheek. Damn I hate these sappy moments.
The next morning I had to do everything in a rush. Shower, breakfast, chores. With a general meeting at 1100 hours in Mengsk's palace and deployment at 1800 hours, things just got a lot more interesting.
I skimmed my hand from top to bottom of my vest, trying to smooth the buttons out nicely before setting my medals right. Everything was in order, good. I walked briskly to the door and snatched my cap along the way.
"Lights off," The lights flickered for a moment before the apartment went dark. I locked the holo-panel and marched into the elevator. The sun was being unmerciful even when it was only 1000 hours.
Around me were civilians about their daily routines. Most tried to walk past me as fast as they can, while some would actually step out of the way to let me pass.
Apparently, the brutality carried out by the Terran Dominion's armed forces scares even its own populace.
I can't say I blame the extreme precautions taken, somebody has to teach these hippie idealistic individuals that the Dominion's here to stay and if they can't accept that then they'll just have to be put in their place.
The palace's auto-door snapped open, and a blast of freezing cold, artificial air greeted me.
Jarheads and bean counters milled about, not caring I was within their midst. At the far end of the hall was a lift and a security counter right beside it being manned by two marines. Hoss and Xander.
Word of advice, don't play them in poker.
Sounds easy right?
But the problem is that within the military's inner circle there's a popular rumor that Dominion resocced marines cant play poker for shit. Well I gotta say whoever came up with that needs a Gauss spike up his ass.
In one match alone I lost 20,000 credits to Hoss, and that's 2 months of my salary I'm never getting back.
Upon seeing me the two got up from whatever it was they were doing and I in turn removed my navy cap and tipped it as a sign of greeting.
"Mornin' Hoss, Xanders," my voice sounded surprisingly jovial. I tapped my ID over the scanner and the server cleared me.
"Admiral sir," both gave me a synchronized curt nod and stepped aside. I permitted a smile and probed them about the next time we'd have another go in the nearby casino.
"April the 3rd, that's when we get our paychecks. Though we're hoping to earn a little more income off yours, sir" guffawed Xanders and that prompted a laugh from me.
I stepped inside the lift and punched in the highest floor; 209.
"Hell no, losing 20 grand the first time is bad enough. But sure, if I'm still alive by April the third and in Augustgrad then why not," As the door slammed shut I caught a glimpse of them laughing their heads off their voices further amplified by their external speakers.
I could not help but run my hand onto the surface of the intricate material which made the elevator. Mengsk not only lived in luxury, he breathed it. And he seems to have an odd obsession for marbled toilets.
I straightened myself and cleared my throat as the floor reached 189.
Shit, my cap's a little dusty
I straightened it out and dusted imaginary dirt off my shoulders. I have to make myself presentable when I'm with Emperor Mengsk.
To be honest, I've seen the Emperor only once up close and that was him addressing the entire inner circle of the Dominion military shortly after Raynor's Raiders got that slandering piece of recording through to Korhal planet-wide.
Today I would be speaking to him. Just me and him, nobody else. Anxious would be an understatement to how I feel.
Floor 191, its crunch time I guess
I could feel my hands getting cold and clammy and -
Wait, what the hell? I can feel there's someone standing right behind me!
I whirled around and stared at the spot behind me, the air was shimmering as though something was moving and then it hit me, I slapped my forehead as realization kicked in.
Of course, who else but my personal bodyguard; Lieutenant Tesla. And yes, she's a Ghost.
Sighs
"How long have you been standing there, Lieutenant?" my voice was low and tight.
Tesla's a weird one, out of all the Ghosts that has ever served as my bodyguard; perks of being Admiral, mind you, she's the only one who has retained a significant part of her former self. If had to use just one word to describe her, it'd be unique.
But really her short auburn hair's really stunning to, uh let me put it this way, observe.
"Observe? You mean ogle, right?"
She giggled with that smoky accent of hers as she de-cloaked. Her suit was a heavily modded version of the Hostile Environmental Suit. It glowed a sickly bright green instead of the standard blue.
Her creepy googly-eyed facemask was replaced with a simple re-breather mask dangling off her neck and on the base of her head was a multi-feature NV goggles.
Also, I noticed she seems to be lacking in that C-20 rifle she always has slung across her back.
"And for your information, I've been following you since you left your apartment. Took you long enough to find out,"
She made a face and crossed her arms in disappointment. I sighed and berated her.
"Dammit Tesla, I told you not to pull tricks like that with your cloaking, and I really do mean observe. Ogle is too... too vulgar," I allowed myself a smirk as she blushed. "By the way, where's that rifle of yours? You never seem to leave home without it." I spoke colloquially.
"Oh, the Emperor issued an order for any Dominion psychic assassins to stow their weapons away before entering."
I stared at her with a blank expression. We'd sometimes have a banter or two when we're off duty and to be honest she's real pleasant to have a discussion with.
I guess I can call her a friend since we've been through a lot in the past one month. She was transferred to my vessel, the Saint Nazar II about three months after her entire squad was killed in a face off against Protoss Dark Templars, so says her file.
"Uh, that's good then, hey do I look presentable?"
Her sapphire eyes rolled and she gave 'tut'. "I'm not your secretary, Admiral Adams."
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes, sheesh you don't have to be a secretary to comment about my attire.
"But if you must know," I turned and faced her with narrowed eyes.
"You're not half bad in that," She giggled and then cloaked once more. Well, that's, nice to know but before I could ask her why did she go invisible so suddenly when -
"Floor 209. Emperor Arcturus Mengsk's personal quarters."
The doors parted and I was brought before a marvelously decorated room, dazzling chandeliers and a beautiful scenery over glorious Augustgrad.
In the middle of the room were the brains of the military. Navy, Army and Marine generals were bickering about the present situation.
They ignored me as I entered a room with a holo-display, Emperor Mengsk's quarters.
Lieutenant where are you?
I thought, hopefully she'd pick up on my thoughts.
I'm by the elevator, don't worry I'll meet you back here once you're done with our 'glorious' leader.
Her telepathic voice sounded snide. I'll have to reprimand her about that later when addressing a superior officer in such a tone.
I stared at the blast door before me slack-jawed, seriously, he's one paranoid guy. As if having a two-hundred-nine-stories-tall tower surrounded by the Dominion's finest isn't enough.
Should I knock or just enter?
I turned back at the bumbling group of men arguing on about a situation developing in Char, maybe I should ask them instead.
Without warning the door before me suddenly jerked once, twice and then split apart revealing the Emperor himself at the far end of the room seated in a tall chair with his back facing me. In one hand was a cigar and the other, a glass of Sherley's Brettock 2499.
"Come in, Admiral. And close the door would you?" His voice was powerful, authoritative, the kidn you would not dare to go against for fear of a backlash.
I slowly made my way to him. I stopped and turned back to lock the door before resuming over to him. My boots were anything but silent and it made all the more nervous for each step I took would be ever closer to meeting the Emperor.
I was mere inches away from the Emperor, and yet his back was still facing me. I could make out multiple security feeds and screens of which the Emperor was busy looking over.
I stood there for a whole... I don't know, ten seconds, before clearing my throat to get his attention. It did as he swallowed the last of his beverage and swiveled the chair around to face me.
He was wearing that fancy red vest which would be seen every time he makes a live appearance on the television. His hair was cropped neatly to the side and his beard neatly trimmed.
"Admiral Beckett Adams, is it?" he spoke and blew a whiff of smoke out into my direction and the air almost made me choke.
I could only manage a nod and a simple timid, "Aye sir,"
He nods and got out of his chair. He turns and pushes a button where a table and a bottle of Sherley's Brettock 2499 awaited us. "Come, sit with me,"
I did as told.
"Now, do you know why you're here?" he pours me a glass and one for himself. I accepted the glass, gave it a little sip before setting it aside.
"Of course, your majesty I have read personal message."
He downed his glass in a single swoop before chuckling in mirth. "Please, call me Mengsk. In here between the two of us, formalities are put on hold."
"Uh, of course sir," I whispered. "I mean Mengsk," he breaks into a wide genuine smile.
"Good, now I don't have to tell you we'll have to tighten our belts very soon." He pours himself another helping. I remained silent and look him in the eye as he spoke.
"The bitch," His eyes narrowed and looked away, his voice full of venom as he spat out that word. Honestly I'd never thought the Emperor would use obscenities.
"Is back, and has regained majority of the so-called Swarm. I don't know how she did it, not after what that Xel-Naga artifact had, purged her like the scum she is."
He got up and walked to the plexi-glass, staring at Augustgrad .
"I don't need to tell you that we're losing this fight, Beckett." His voice became distant as he spoke, thoughts running through his mind of what, one can only wonder. I was rather surprised that he used my first name.
"Our forces are spread thin as it is. The people need a miracle and I intend to give it to them," He turns and thumbs a remote controller. A wide screen about fifty inches dropped down from above. Its screen flashed and projected an image of -
No way.
I got up and walked towards the projection , eyes wide in awe. "My liege, is that-"
"It is," an air of finality in his tone of voice.
"This is the artifact which was used against Her back on Char. Unfortunately it was destroyed when we turned it up to full power. However, my sources have confirmed we found another. And far more powerful than the previous. Unfortunately, we've lost contact with the research team over the past 24 hours. I fear she may have gotten to it."
"And I deduce this is the part where my fleet would come in, correct?" He nods in affirmation.
"Admiral Adams, your task would be to lead your battle group into the last known location of the research team and secure that artifact. I want it brought here, no exceptions. The survival of the Terran Dominion is at stake here."
I nodded and saluted him, "For the Terran Dominion, it will be done!" Mengsk laughed and poured me another glass upon seeing mine was empty.
"I like your gumption, you remind me of my son, the Crown Prince Valerian.
I could only beam and swell my chest with pride. "Thank you sir!"
He nods and walks me out of the room, a smile on his face. He puffs on his cigar before waving me off.
"Good luck and godspeed Admiral."
The blast door closes and I slowly walk to the elevator, utterly proud of myself. The Emperor's counting on me and so is the Dominion. And I'll move heaven and Earth to complete this mission.