Chapter 1: Blood and Snow
The snow crunched beneath armored feet as the patrol of marines made their way steadily toward the base of the mountains. Servos whined softly as the armored men trudged slowly through the frozen wasteland, lifting the large legs of their hardskins high as they struggled through snow that came up to their suit's knees. Snow that would have reached above the waistline of an unarmored man. The thirteen Dominion marines kept their visors sealed to keep the warmth created by each suit's life support system in. Every now and then a stream of cursing would come over the comm as one of them had the misfortune of stepping in a particularly deep drift of snow.
"Can the chatter girls," snapped Sergeant Travis over the squad frequency, then switched off his transmitter and continued cursing himself. Like the rest of his squad he struggled through the deep snow and ice in his hardskin, the large armored suit used by most Terran infantry. He held his C-14 Gauss Rifle at chin level so it wouldn't get covered in snow should his foot find a deep patch of the miserable white menace. The suit's broad shoulders showed no strain as they held the blocky but deadly weapon aloft, the strength added by the combat suit being more than enough to hold the rifle with ease. The suit itself was painted in a dark gray except for the shoulder guards, which were a dark red. On his right shoulder was the arm, whip, and star sigil of the Terran Dominion. The armor was otherwise free of adornment or design, a bit of a rarity even amongst Dominion marines.
The wastelands of Braxis were an icy hell, though the running joke amongst the Dominion troops stationed there was that whoever garrisoned hell had it easy since it wasn't as damned cold. At the very least it was quiet, Travis reflected, as he quietly lamented in the isolation of his suit the broken path his life had taken that had led him to be stationed in this backwater shithole. The planet hadn't seen combat at all in the two years since the end of the Brood Wars. The lone Dominion research station had been sacked twice. First by the UED and then by the Zerg and anti-UED Terran rebels, working together if the rumors were to be believed. Back then the station had housed a state of the art Psi-Disruptor. The angry Zerg had long since reduced it to ragged pieces however. Now the station housed a weapons research facility and a small Dominion garrison.
"Moving into the canyon Sergeant," called the patrol's point man over the squad channel.
"Copy," growled Travis, "Let's move it ladies. Unless you want to be out in the icebox all day." A chorus of mumbled acknowledgements came back over the come and the patrols pace quickened. Travis grinned despite himself before switching to the research stations command channel.
"Braxis Main this is Rover One."
After a moment a bored sounding voice responded.
"Send it Rover One."
"Passing checkpoint six."
"Roger, continue to advise."
"Roger Braxis Main. Rover One out."
With that Travis turned and moved into the narrow canyon that would take his squad through the mountain range and into the foothills east of the research station. The mountains themselves rose up hundreds of feet above the armored marines. Like the wastelands below them they were colorfully decorated with ice, ice, and a delicate sprinkling of ice. The packed snow banks on the mountainsides looked ominous and threatening as they loomed over the patrol. It was deep winter on Braxis, however, and the risk of an avalanche was minimal. Or so said the bored looking company intel officer who had briefed the squad before they left the research station for the patrol hours earlier, reflected Travis.
The bastard might actually give a damn if he was the one running around under these fekking time bombs!
The canyon was an impressive structure in of itself. It was more than a hundred meters wide in some places, enough room for a squad of armored marines to walk shoulder to shoulder. Hundreds of feet deep the canyon walls were scattered with terraces and ledges created by the yearly flooding caused by spring and summer melts. The canyon floor was littered with broken rocks and outcroppings left behind as sediment by those same flash floods. The high canyon walls did manage to keep the snow at the canyon floor from getting too deep though, which was a blessing at least.
The metallic thumps of the hardskin's boots coming down on the rock floor echoed through the narrow canyon as the marines made their way steadily onward. Veterans of a hundred boring patrols the men halfheartedly eyed the path ahead of them and the rock formations along the canyon wall. More than one pair of eyes however, simply stared dully at the rock floor in front of them as they trudged wearily on and thought of the warm barracks back at the station.
"Sergeant Travis, you should see this."
Signaling a halt the weary sergeant trudged over to the marine that had spoken while the rest of the patrol held their positions, most glancing back with a mix of curiosity and annoyance.
"What is it Jones?" grunted the older Sergeant, less than happy about another delay between him and the poker game he had planned later that night with some of the researchers back at the station.
The man gestured with his gauss rifle to the canyon floor in front of him. Travis looked and saw what had caught the marine's eye. In the thin layer of ice that had settled on a large rock was a boot print. Three times the size of a normal man's foot however the print was unmistakably from a Terran combat suit.
"I didn't think we'd had a patrol through here since the last snowfall Sergeant," the man said half questioningly.
"We haven't," replied the more experienced man, a cold chill running down his spine that had nothing to do with the winter cold. Eyes darting around the canyon he switched to the base frequency again.
"Braxis Main this is Rover One."
Silence answered him.
Cursing he tried again.
"Braxis Main this is Rover One. Come in over."
Still nothing.
Looking back to Jones he shook his head. Rather pointless since the man couldn't see the gesture through Travis' closed visor.
"I can't raise the station."
Jones shrugged, the gesture accentuated by the large shoulders of his combat suit. "Maybe the canyon's blocking the signal."
Travis wasn't convinced. "Maybe," was all he said as his eyes once again moved to the surrounding rock formations. He'd never liked this part of the patrol route. He'd always thought it would be the perfect place for a…
A series of metallic clanks rang out in the canyon as several heavy objects landed amidst the Dominion marines. One of them rolled between Jones and the startled Travis and the veteran's eyes widened as he recognized the high explosive grenade.
"Ambush!"
Travis threw himself away from the grenade, putting a nearby rock outcropping between him and the explosive. A half second later the trio of grenades exploded taking down several of the Dominion marines, including the unlucky and fatally slow Jones. Armor fragments and gore flew in all directions. Jones' severed hand landed a foot away from where Travis crouched, wincing from the loud explosions.
The thunder of gauss rifle fire tore through the canyon and the air was filled with high-powered rounds. Some of the deadly "spikes" found their targets. One Dominion marine took a burst right in his visor. Though the visor was ballistic it couldn't take the concentrated punishment of the burst and the man was thrown against the canyon wall, the interior of his shattered visor revealing a bloody mess. Rounds impacted all around the besieged patrol throwing up chunks of ice and rock.
Panicked shouts filled the squad comm frequency. Between the grenades and enemy fire six men went down in the first few seconds. Desperately the surviving marines returned fire, though their attackers seemed to be everywhere. Another of their number jerked as he was caught by a burst in the chest, the rounds burst out his back taking most of his abdomen with them and splattering it against the canyon wall.
Rounds impacted against the rock where Travis took cover, showering him with dirt and ice. When the impacts stopped he risked a glance down the canyon. Ahead of the patrol and behind their own rock outcroppings he spotted two armored marines firing on his squad from cover. He also spotted at least another two on more elevated positions along the sides of the canyon. Ducking back down just as more spikes began chewing up his cover he tried to reestablish order to his beleaguered squad.
"Contact front! Enemy infantry on the canyon floor and along the ledge! Take cover and light them up!"
Following his own advice Travis rose from his crouch with a yell, aimed in on one of the enemy marines, and fired two bursts from his rifle. The first burst was too low and impacted against the rock the attacker was taking cover behind. As soon as the first rounds hit the rock the armored man ducked down and the second burst tore through the air where he'd been only a second ago.
Cursing the inconsiderate bastard Travis ducked back down behind his own rock. But a quick glance around showed him that his men were at least getting their bearings. All around him his surviving marines took cover and began behind whatever they could and started trading fire with their attackers. Things were starting to look up until a marine on the other side of the canyon pitched forward as a flurry of spikes penetrated his back throwing the man over the low rock he'd been taking cover behind. Travis' felt a cold trickle of fear as more attackers began firing on them from a ledge behind his squad's position. They were caught in a crossfire.
One of the attackers was close enough for Travis to make out a unit marker painted on his dark blue armor, an inverted sword with two R's back to back against it.
"Raynor's Raiders," the veteran marine whispered in disbelief as his rising panic gave way to a cold fury.
Two things happened then in quick succession. A blast of static over the comm followed by a shout from further up the canyon for the surviving Dominion marines to throw down their weapons. At the same time Travis looked up to see that one of the Raiders was on a ledge directly above him.
Yelling incoherently the Dominion sergeant raised his gauss rifle and fired a volley of impaler spikes up at the man. The angle was all wrong though and the spikes tore into the rocks supporting the ledge the man was standing on. Travis' cursing gave way to a roar of triumph as the rock formation gave way and came tumbling down to the canyon floor taking the enemy marine with it.
The armored Raider crashed onto the canyon floor amidst a shower of rocks, but recovered quickly rolling to his feet, and giving Travis his first good look at the man. His armor was painted pitch black, though it carried plenty of dings and scratches that indicated a long and rough history. All along the black armor was painted the likeness of a human skeleton and the man's orange tinted visor bore a grim white skull giving the hardskin an eerie appearance. The final touch was the white image of the skeleton of a coiled snake on the armor's right shoulder. Travis' eyes narrowed as the man came back to his feet, he'd heard of that armor…
With a wordless roar Travis charged at the man, extending his weapon's bayonet as he came. The black armored Raider cast a quick glance at his own gauss rifle, which he'd lost in the fall and now lay a good ten feet away. When the skulled visage turned back to the charging Dominion sergeant the man dropped into a fighting crouch.
A second later when Travis closed within a few feet of his target he thrust forward at the lighter armor just below the Raiders chest plate, putting all of the considerable power of himself and his combat armor behind the attack. The man was waiting for the blow however and as the bayonet dived in at him he stepped forward and to Travis' left, grabbing the extended gauss rifle as he moved with his left arm. Yanking down and out with the considerable strength of his own hardskin the man simultaneously swept his leg forward behind Travis' right leg. Caught by surprise Travis was yanked forward and off balance. So when the man's black armored elbow connected with a bone jarring crash into his visor he was thrown backward, feeling his legs come out from under him as the black clad raider swept his own leg back toward himself.
Landing with a thud and a grunt Travis noticed that there was a large crack in his visor through which the warm air of his suit was leaking with an audible hiss. He also noticed that he had lost control of his gauss rifle in the fall and it now lay just out of reach. His attention was called back to his opponent by the sound of metal scraping leather as the black armored man drew his sidearm and aimed it straight at Travis' cracked visor. The pistol was an older style revolver with intricate engravings along the barrel, the cylinder, and running down to the polished wood grip.
Taking his eyes off the gun barrel in his face Travis snarled in irritation at the steam hissing from his cracked visor. With a click and a hiss he released the catch on the spherical faceplate and as it rose the remaining warm air in the helmet rushed out revealing the battered Travis. The cold air hitting his face felt like a hundred needles burrowing into his skin but he kept his discomfort from showing. He was a man in his early thirties. White with close cropped blonde hair and brown eyes. A scar ran from his left ear to his nose where he'd had a close call with a zergling on his first tour.
Looking down at him the Raider raised his own visor. As the skull rose up and a blast of steam erupted from the man's helmet the Dominion sergeant's eyes narrowed in recognition. The man was of similar age to Travis himself though in place of short blonde hair he had longer black hair and a thin beard. Grey hairs had begun to mix with the black, somewhat premature for a man still in his prime, but his brown eyes remained sharp and focused. It was a face that was plastered on hundreds of wanted posters across Dominion controlled space.
"Raynor," Travis spat out the name as though it left a bad taste in his mouth.
"If you believe the posters." A wry grin flashed across Jim Raynor's worn features before vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. He glanced down at the rank insignia on the chest plate of Travis' hardskin and then raised his eyes back to meet the Dominion marine's gaze. "Get up slowly with your hands behind your head Sergeant," he said with a hint of a drawl in his voice. "Ain't no need for more of you and yours to die today." As he spoke the heat from his breath turned instantly to steam.
Travis' glanced around him. His surviving men had thrown down their weapons and were being rounded up by the blue armored Raiders. Raynor's men all had dark blue armor in place of the Dominion red and the Raider's sigil painted on their left shoulder. There the resemblance ended. Their armor was decorated with a riot of designs and personal inscriptions. Here a man had a dragon curled around his hardskin's left arm. There another had a mostly naked woman painted on one shoulder guard and a collection of tic marks, some kind of kill count most likely, on his other. One man had painted a cheerful looking smiley face on his visor. Ironically it was him that was shouting commands at the dominion prisoners.
"Cowards," Travis snarled and his hand began to move toward the pistol holstered at his side. He paused, however, as the tell tale sound of a revolver's hammer being pulled back cut through the other noise in the canyon. Travis turned his glare back to Raynor's face. The black armored rebel was looking down at him, the revolver held steady, with a grim look in his brown eyes.
"Don't do it friend."
As Raynor looked down at the Dominion sergeant he saw the look enter his eyes. A look that was half resolve and half madness. Travis glared back up at him before replying.
"Terrorist bastard! My sister was in New Raleigh you son of a bitch," and with that Sergeant Travis' hand shot down toward his holstered pistol. His gaze never left Raynor's and as his hand shot down he saw a look of anger mixed with regret enter the ex-confederate marshal's eyes.
The crack of the revolver shot echoed around the mountain range and when it faded there was only a grim silence.