As anyone who's ready my previous story (One i'm still working on) Antaria's Last Message. You'll reconize both the name of the main character, and in turn the fact that this is a little rushed. Idea hit me, i jotted it down in less then an hour, figured i'd submit it and see if anyone liked it. There will be more, at least another chapter yet.

Please read and Review/Comment. I'd like to know if anyone liked/didn't like this.

Finally i'm well aware there's quite a few of fictions that have popped up recently that deal with this particular event, it's my hope that as this progresses, i can move away and make something unique. /fingers crossed

Without further delay, on with the fiction.

How did it come to this?

Chapter one: What have I done?

Jackson winced slightly as he studied the view screen sitting atop his command console. He hated this position. Thousands of miles above Tarsonis, he was safe and sound, nothing could harm him here.

Down on the surface however, he watched as dozens of his fellow Sons fought, bled, and died to hold the line against the protoss. How had it come to this? A few months ago he was the Magistrate of a small colony, he had a militia under his command sure, but they were all friends and people he knew, trusted.

Now though, eh watched as an entire squad of marines were butchered. A subtle twitch of his left eye being the only reaction. His time with the Sons of Korhal had desensitised him to death and violence. It used to make him wince to even hear a gunshot, now, as he surveyed the battle far below through his personal battle cruisers scanners, he simply shook his head and focused on the goal, not the price.

"Squad three, link up with Sergeant Jefferson and his platoon, they'll need support to take out those cannons." His voice, almost monotone and devoid of emotion, betrayed just how young he truly was. Being only twenty three, he was hardly old enough to old a rank like he had now.

Desperate times, or so he kept telling himself.

"Got it sir, moving out." Came the response from the squad's leader. He might not be there personally anymore. But he was still in charge. A gloved hand moved to rub his sky blue eyes, before he focused on one of the bridge officers. "Any word from the Hyperion yet?" Mengsk had been strangely quiet the past few hours; it was starting to get on his nerves.

"Nothing sir, all communications are coming from the surface." The comms officer replied, before turning back to his post. A long drawn out sigh left Jacksons lips. "Times like these I feel like I should start smoking." He muttered, before returning his attention to the screen. Unlike his friends, he refused to touch the cancer sticks. Sometimes he wondered if he was the only one that didn't smoke in the entire sector.

Pushing the thought aside, he noted the battle was beginning to go their way. Looking up from the screen, he noted the protoss ship that had been holding orbit, but Mengsk had refused to let them engage withdrawing and moving away from Tarsonis. "Looks like we won!" He said, a hint of joy creeping into his voice, finally things were wrapping up. Another job well do-

"This is Kerrigan, we've neutralized the protoss but there's a wave of zerg advancing on this position. We need immediate evac!" Damn it! He didn't pause for a moment, before anyone could even blink Jackson was shouting orders.

"Scramble the drop ships! Get them planet side on the double!" He snapped, causing several of the bridge crew to jump before leaping to their respective tasks. "Get us closer, I want them aboard and I want them aboard now!"

"Throughout all this, he'd failed to hear the order sweeping through the fleet, though when his communication officer saw fit to pull up the main screen. "Belay that order, were moving out." The commander froze, his gaze snapping around to focus on the screen.

Raynor spoke first however. "What? You're not just gonna leave her!" He felt his heart that was already beating rapidly, pick up speed.

"Helmsmen, take us out of orbit, and prepare to move away from Tarsonis on my mark." Jackson whipped around to find his bridge crew standing in place. "What the hell? GET THOSE SHIPS MOVING!" Rage was all he felt as a hand snapped down and drew the pistol holstered at his side and pulled it up into view, his thumb easily snapping the hammer back.

That got them going again, however a glance over his shoulder confirmed that the rest of the fleet was pulling away. "Damn you Acturus. Don't do this!" Raynor's voice filled his ears again.

"It's done." He tuned out the rest of the argument. "Come on, come on!" Without thinking, he snapped his screen back to the fight below, the base, was gone, overrun with zerg, he could see a few soldiers here and there trying there best to hold the line, but they were swiftly torn apart.

"What's taking those blasted ships so long!" He snarled the temptation to start shooting to make the crew work faster building.

"Sir, even with an escort…The zerg forces are to vast, they'd be destroyed before they even reached New Gettysburg. There's nothing we can do…" His first officer said slowly, still very much aware of the pistol clenched tightly in his superior's hand.

A long, tense minute passed in silence. Before the breath Jackson had been holding finally left him in a long, slow sigh. "Recall the drop ships…Break orbit as soon as there docked." He said slowly, before simply turning around and storming out of the room, leaving the crew to follow orders without him.

An hour passed without anyone seeing the commander. A few of the crew speculated he'd put the gun to his own head in the end. Though everyone knew that was false, they knew he'd taken things badly, but if anything, he wasn't suicidal.

Sure enough, he eventually found his way to the Cantina and collapsed into a seat by the bar. "Something strong." He stated simply, causing the bartender to fix him with a confused stare, before he wandered off to fill the order. The only time anyone had seen him drink was when he'd been celebrating, and even then it was only something light to join in before he stuck to something non alcoholic.

When the glass was set in front of him, he simply dragged it closer and stared at the contents for a long moment. Before abruptly lifting it to his lips and downing the entire drink in one gulp. "You okay sir?" The bartender finally worked up the courage to ask.

"Fine, just fine." He received as a response. "Briefing in twenty minutes, needed something to steady my nerves." He stated, his voice once again monotone and devoid of even a shred of emotion.

Before anyone could ask anymore questions, he simply pushed himself away from the bar and vanished from the cantina entirely. His path slowly leading him through the neo-steel corridors to the bridge, where he'd get a damned explanation for all this.