Everyone who's read my fanfic MahiMahi should be used to how I do my stories. This is not a marine vs. zerg or marine vs. protoss fic. It does not remind one of the movie "Aliens" or "Predator." It is a starcraft fic. It takes place during and after the events of Starcraft and Starcraft: Broodwar. It contains zerg, protoss, terran, original characters, canon characters, children, and several hybrids. The story should have a slight "horror" twist, but at the same time it manages to maintain the elements of feel-good. Go figure.

Yarg! Fear me!

CHILDREN OF AIUR

On the Origins of Sasha: The Cast

Somewhere on Aiur

Nothing but green. Green, green, green, stupid, damn, green! Nothing but plants and zerg, and zerg and plants, and shoot this, kill that, GREEN!

Danial Wyker growled to himself, shoving through yet another patch of overgrown ferns. He idly speculated that the ferns wouldn't have been as nearly impeding if he didn't have to push through them in heavy marine armor. He took a bite of one of his last ration bars, and held his side arm at the ready. His rifle was too long to use properly in the undergrowth, and a zergling could pop out of the ground at any moment. It was times like these when he wondered why he bothered to kept moving. It was times like these that he decided that the only thing he lived for was hope; hope that somehow, some way, he would stumble into human civilization.

Of course, this was exceptionally unlikely. He was on Aiur. Humans had long since abandoned the planet. Protoss had long since abandoned the planet. The only thing that hadn't abandoned the planet was zerg. Aiur was huge. Aiur was also covered in dense jungle that obscured everything outside of a tiny 5 foot by 5 foot box around him. The odds that he was going to run into a human settlement were horrendously low.

Previously, he had been a marine in the service of the UED. He had been placed upon Aiur to help secure the fledging Zerg Overmind. When Kerrigan had attacked and ripped the UED fleets apart, Danial had been left stranded on the planet. He still was not sure how he had survived. Like all UED soldiers, Danial had come directly from Earth, the human home world. He had no experience with the wars and factions of the sector. He had never seen an alien before, nor been forced to survive on a hostile world. Hell, he hadn't ever really known what it was to suffer. Several weeks on Aiur's surface with nothing but salvaged rations had taught him a lesson or two in humility.

Nothing but green. Green in all directions. Green here. Green there. Oh look! A bit of brown. More green. More-

At that point in time, Danial cut through the last layer of fern between himself and a large field. This field, which was around a mile in diameter, was the seat of a fairly extensive human and protossian base. Danial's jaw dropped in surprise as he stared at the clusters of buildings. Most of them seemed to have terran landing gear affixed to them- a trait that alluded to an ability to lift off of the ground. On the other hand, many of them featured structures that were wholly alien. Some buildings even had small pylons built into their sides. The base sported several overlapping star ports. Above these ports floated a single protoss star gate. Even as Danial watched, the star gate shimmered, and a terran drop ship was warped into the vicinity.

There was a slight crash as a massive dragoon stepped between Danial and the base. Its firing pod was open and glowing light blue. "Drop your weapon. You have fifteen seconds to comply."

Scavenging Base
(cont.)

Imagine, for a second, that you grew up in a poor family with seven kids, and parents who couldn't have supported two. Imagine wanting to go to college to be something respectable, like a doctor, or a lawyer; but that you can't, because you have no money. Instead, you decide to join the army. It pays well, and if you stay on for long enough, you can get great scholarships for school.

Now imagine that your country decides, just after you finish basic training, that you and hundred thousand other unlucky blokes could better serve your country by traveling several years in cyro-hibernation to the other side of the galaxy and blowing the snot out of your long-lost cousins. Did we mention that you were descended from happy members of the earth community who'd never caused a mite of trouble in their lives? Did we also mention that your "cousins" were descended from every rapist, drug-dealer, mass murderer, and serial killer that the earth had to offer?

Now let's pretend that your leaders sit you on a foreign planet so that they can get their greedy fingers on a powerful alien weapon- a giant baby brain. Once all this is done, the leaders can have their whole "alien weapon" project blow up in their faces. As your leaders are all brave and fearless, they evacuate the planet as quickly as possible, and leave you all alone on its hostile, alien ridden surface.

You wander around for several months, thanking god you have rations, and wondering why your dad couldn't have stayed in school, and why he had to go out and become a hair dresser, because if he were just a bit wealthier this whole situation wouldn't have happened. You wander into an alien-human base, and are confronted by a giant mechanical spider with a really big cannon. You drop your weapons, and are then ushered into the alien-human base.

You walk past a bunch of marines who yell various things like "Hey! It's a newbie!" and "Wonder if he's wet himself yet?" before you finally reach your destination. Now you are looking up at a 9 foot tall, heavily armed psionic warrior who could rip your mind apart with but a thought. His shoulders are almost as wide as your battle armor. He stares down at you with no mouth, no nose, no pupils, just two glowing yellow eyes, and you feel his brain raking through your own.

Now you know how poor Danial feels.

"Bet ya he faints! Twenty creds!"

"Nah, I say he vomits!"

"What if he faints and vomits?

"Vhat? Ah, I zink he vill vet himself, first."

"You alvays sink zhat zhey vill vet zemselves!"

"And? Zey alvays do!"

"Nah, they faint!"

"Hyou are all vrong. Dot vone vill obfiously shit himself."
It is arguable that the only reason Danial did not defecate, urinate, faint, or vomit was due solely to his desire to prove the supportive morons behind him wrong. The chorus of various different accents surged around him, before his protoss examiner at last spoke.

"You are loyal to the UED?" It asked him. The mental speech was disturbing, but he'd just had his brain combed through; he could take it.

"No. The UED left me to die here," he managed, throat dry.

"How do you feel about Raynor's Raiders?"

"They haven't yet left me to die here?" he asked tentatively. The marines behind him laughed and hooted. The protoss docked his head to the side, and then nodded. He looked over Danial's head at the other marines in the vicinity. Around ten of them had stopped to watch the proceedings and to bet over what the UED soldier would do.

"This one shall fit in fine. As you gentlemen are otherwise unengaged, would you perhaps like to find him some accommodations?"

Around four of the marines came forward. "Sure! The newbie can room with us till he gets his feet. We'll keep him out of trouble."

"Ya, ve veel keep him out of trouble."

The protoss nodded somewhat skeptically. "See that you do," he said rather blandly, before giving a polite bow of his head and heading off to whatever other duties occupied his time. One marine seized Danial's shoulder and propelled him on, the other three laughing and talking about getting him a shower, and how he owed them creds for making them lose their bets. W

He was now officially a member of Raynor's Raiders. When he asked after his weapons, they found and returned them. Some time in the future, he would stop to wonder why it was that those raiders were so famous for their loyalty if random people could pop out of the jungle and join them. Maybe it was the health benefits; the Raiders tended not to just randomly leave people on alien-infested planets.

Mess Hall, Scavenging Base

"Heya! You're the newbie, aren't you?"

Danial blinked and looked up from his lunch. He started, surprised. Before him stood a woman with blue eyes and blond hair tied up behind her in a ponytail. She had freckles on her cheeks. She was six and a half feet tall. Her shoulders were broader than his. "That's… what they call me," he said slowly. He was currently seated with two of his bunkmates in the command center's mess room. One of said bunkmates perked up, looking up at the woman. His jaw dropped. Another marine slugged him to get him to stop staring, and then turned to speak to her.

"Hyeah, dis von just vondered into camp a few days ago. Vhy? Looking for a good time?"

The blonde woman smirked in bemusement. "Course not, silly. Looking for a marine who isn't dunderheaded." She looked back at Danial.

"Name's Bree."

"Danial," he responded quietly.

"So what the hell were you doing turfside?"

"Uh… surviving?" he asked, as if that were the most logical of all answers. The marines around him laughed.

"Ever been brain-panned?"

Someone felt they had to butt in again. "Vhat kind ohf kvestion is dat?" exclaimed the marine beside him

"A valid one!" Bree declared cheerfully. "So have you?"

"No…" Danial replied slowly.

"Talkative one, aren't you?" she asked gleefully.

"Erm, sorry, it's just that… um…"

"And so articulate! You're hired!"

"I was applying?"

"I and my friend, Valk, make up a scavaging crew. We make runs out into the jungle to recover scrapped protoss stuff. We've been having trouble with stray zerg lately, and need a marine to keep them off our backs. We need a marine who can bunk with two women and not drown himself in his own drool. You're officially the only marine in this joint that fits the description; therefore, you're hired."

"But-"

"Dock 1, meet us tomorrow at three, standard time."

"But-"

"See ya!"

And with that, she bounced off. Danial starred quizzically after her as his fellow marines gave him pats on the back and congratulated him boisterously. Apparently as far as military women went, Bree was somewhat of a catch. Unfortunately, Danial couldn't remember ever starting to fish in the first place. Rather, he had the sensation he'd just been eaten by a whale.

On board scavenging frigate

"So what's the agenda for today?"

"I hop in my SCV and carry around thousands of pounds of Khydarian crystal. You kill anything bad. Good luck!"

Danial lifted a brow, eyeing his bubbly companion with amusement. She laughed at his expression. Bree Redwren was the mechanic of the small salvage ship. As Danial had discovered, Bree was a fairly bouncy person. She laughed manically whenever using a blowtorch, and was particularly fond of chocolate milk.

"Same as always. Salvaging. There's a protoss carrier that's crashed in the boarders of the safe zone. We're flying in to examine it. We recover what we find- especially whatever's left of the engines- and then we leave. We come back the next day for more. Simple. Got it?" she asked.

Danial nodded. He was fairly new at this salvaging business. "Expecting any Zerg?" he asked.

"Vone must alvays suspect Zerg." The words issued forward from the cockpit of their small salvage vessel. Their pilot was Bree's polar opposite. She normally served as a valkyrie pilot. In fact, their salvage ship was a heavily modified version of a valkyrie frigate. Although the woman gave no name for herself, Bree referred to her affectionately as "Valk" or "Valky." This appeared to be the manner in which everyone else knew her, as well.

In any event, Valk was dark haired and dark-eyed. She was of Russian descent, and spoke with a thick, rolling accent. Again unlike Bree, Valk seemed old beyond her years. Old scars cut across her face, and her eyes seemed possessed of much hidden and horrible knowledge. Somewhere in her past, Valk had lost both her legs. One was severed at the knee, and the other at the hip. She had never had them replaced- not even with prosthetics.

"Zhey are zhe rats of zhe universe- and a pain in the ass."

Danial nodded.

"Well, good luck out there. And if you die, just remember: it wasn't my fault," Bree continued, lifting a hand to shake his. He eyed her for a moment, as if preparing himself to protest. At last he gave up and just sight. He took the offered hand and shook it firmly. Her fingers were calloused and strong. When he pulled back his hand he gave it a shake to make sure it was still working. Bree grinned and cuffed him lightly over the head. "Suit up. We'll be landing soon."

Scavenging Base

Three zerglings, a long span of time in which he and Bree had exchanged war stories, and a good hot shower later, and Danial was getting ready for bed. Overall, the day had been fairly productive and had required a fairly nominal amount of work. He was assured that the days would not always be like that, but he hardly minded. A few more zerg made the day a bit more interesting. He found it only proper that he should buy pajamas, no matter how much other marines laughed at him for it. By the time he returned to his new room, Bree was asleep. She was sprawled all over one of the top bunks. Valk sitting neatly on a lower bunk. She was reading a book on astrophenomenon.

Danial lifted a brow, and eyed the both of them for a moment. A small smile crossed his face, and he shook his head. There were only two bunks in this room. The other one was vacant, with the lower bed already made up and ready for him. He quietly walked over to it. His gauss rifle was leaning against the side of the bed. He patted it lightly before pulling himself into the bed and trying to get some sleep. It had been a long, long time since he had last truly slept…

(cont.)

He woke with a start, hitting his head on the top bunk's support beams. The blow didn't faze him in the slightest. He breathed in heavily, and felt cold sweat all over his frame.

"Knew there was another reason I didn't sleep…" he whispered.

"Bad dreams?" Bree's voice carried across the stillness of the room.

"Always…" he murmured, slowly looking in her direction. The room was illuminated softly by a dull blue light on the ceiling.

The mechanic smiled, looking down at him. "Confront them. The less you sleep, the worse they will get, till every moment your eyes are shut is one you spend reliving the past."

"… Yeah, I know." He looked down for a moment, and then reached over for his rifle. He popped the ammunition clip out and set it aside, and then held the rifle in the way a kid would a stuffed animal. He wormed around under his covers, and then laid his head back down upon his pillow. After a long time he fell back to sleep. His dreams were a little better on the second round.

Bree watched him a moment, and then pillowed her arms back under her head. She fell asleep only a few minutes after him.

(cont.)

When Danial woke up, he was still cradling his rifle. He blinked and then gave a yawn and stepped out of bed.

"Morning sleepy head!" came Bree's call from the doorway. She'd just returned after going to the nearby bathroom to dress- or so he assumed. "Was just about to wake you! Mess hall serves free breakfast to early risers!"

"Sounds good," he answered. He popped the ammunition clip back into his rifle and leaned it back against his bed. He then stood and stretched, listening to his vertebrae crack. Bree proceeded to brush her hair and straighten herself up, and then dropped to the ground to do pushups. Valk was already ready, and reading a book on some ancient world war.

"Show off," the pilot muttered. Bree just laughed. She stood up, and then moved over and carefully picked Valk up under the arms. That was one interesting factor of Valk's existence. Because she had no legs, she relied on Bree to carry her everywhere. It was her one apparent weakness.

That morning, they had mystery stew. Bree said it was best not to dwell on the "Mystery" part. It tasted fairly good, but both Bree and Danial were fairly immune to taste by that point in their lives. They just packed it away. Out of the three, Valk was the only one with a truly developed sense of taste. While eating, she managed to name every animal and plant that went into the making of the stew, as well as several protein and flavor additives.

Bree eyed Valk once she had finished listing ingredients. "… … It tastes like chicken to me."

"Is she always like this while eating?" Danial inquired with a full mouth.

"Yes. Valk likes fancy restraints and good food. In one of her ships, she has a whole stash of real Vodka. That stuff goes for thousands of creds a bottle now that most of the Terran planets have been ripped apart by Zerg. Valky wont sell a bottle."

The pilot blinked and glared at Bree reproachfully. The blonde merely giggled.

"What? I trust him. He seems good enough," she said, grinning and elbowing Danial. Danial nearly lost his mouthful of food. He took a moment to keep himself from choking, and then swallowed the meat in his mouth. "So Vodka, eh? Never really drank myself… But I watched other marines get drunk on the cheap stuff."

"Yup," chimed Bree. "True to her roots."

"Hope your pass time isn't playing Russian Roulette," he said, in an attempt to be humorous.

Valk lifted a brow. "Actually, I play chess," she said. "But I suppose Russian Roulette does have some similarities to my second hobby…"

He blinked, looking at her curiously.

"I race. Preferably in asteroid fields, and against protoss corsairs and other valkyries."

He took another bite of his food before continuing. "So what do you race protoss for?"

"To win," she answered simply.

"Well that's… very logical."

The pilot laughed. "I race protoss for zhe fun of it, marine. I like to show zhem zhat they are not superior in all zhings.

"Fun is always a good thing," he observed, just trying to make conversation. "I've seen some marines hold shooting contests. They're stupid in my opinion."

"Why is zhat?"

"Waste of good ammo… And they have a tendency to shoot apples off each others heads, or hold the contests while drunk. Had to jump in before the blew their heads off sometimes." He smiled at the memories. "Heh… What's funny is that I would trust those men with my very life." The smile faded as happy memories faded into darker ones.

Bree laughed, and then blinked at his somber face.

He stared quietly into his now-empty bowl for a moment, and then shook his head. "They were all good men," he said quietly.

Bree tilted her head to the side, and then patted him gently on the shoulder. "I'm sorry," she offered.

The marine blinked and coughed, trying to cover his own embarrassment. "I shouldn't bring up something like that," he said, forcing a smile onto his face.

"It's okay," she offered. "We all got stories. Most people don't end up with Raynor unless they've seen too much nonsensical death already."

"Raynor?" Danial asked, his sadness replaced with curiosity. He knew very little of the leader of the Raiders. The UED hadn't considered him a major player.

"Once Marshal, now Commander James Raynor. Leads our little band of Terran. We work alongside the protoss."

"So… He's the one leading this joint operation?"

"The human half of it, yeah. Raynor's Raider's we're called."

"Catchy."

"Yup. Piracy, Raiding, Salvaging protoss ships, and trying to save the universe. All wrapped up in a neat and tidy package."

"Sounds interesting. … And the protoss? Are they led by him as well?"

"Not so much. Although he has some credibility with them, and they'll often take orders if he gives them, they're loyal to their own leaders. It used to be that Fenix led them. After Kerrigan killed him, that's no longer the case. Raynor and Fenix were good friends. We're worried that our little "alliance" will fall apart with him gone."

"This Raynor sounds interesting."

"That's why we like 'im," the mechanic piped cheerfully.

His bowl was empty, and so he went to dispose of it. When he returned, the two women were discussing their next salvage mission.

Yarg!