Disclaimer: I do not own Starcraft, nor anything else from any other shows/games/books I may bring into the fold in the course of writing this story.

Meanwhile...on Meinhoff, approximately five minutes earlier...

The C-10 Mk VI rifle bucked twice, dropping the two perimeter guards that guarded the back way to the jamming site the scumbag pirates set-up, drowning out any request for aid the colonists made. It was his job to make sure that site fell for good – or at least until he died.

Sweeping the area through the scope, he waited to see if the two deaths would draw any attention. After waiting ten seconds, he nodded to himself and hefted the C-10 from his hiding spot and slowly began making his way up the ramp into the facility itself.

The pirates chose a good spot to set up their jammer, but a very poor defense. Luckily for him, there were no bunkers yet setup in the area, and he'd prefer it to be kept that way. Sneaking up the ramp, he looked around before dragging the bodies out of sight.

'Amateurs.' He thought, scanning the area with his the rifle. He couldn't believe it – they had only set two guards to watch the approaches. Shaking his head, he began digging through the dead pirates' pockets to see if there was anything there he could use to destroy the jamming tower.

Much to his satisfaction, they were each carrying one grenade each. Popping the pins off, he stuffed them into the tower's maintenance panel and slammed it shut before running like hell. The explosion would attract more pirates, and he had to prepare himself for the siege. Grabbing the two C-14's off the dead pirates, he hid behind the wreckage of the tower and prepared for incoming.

With any luck – and sufficient ammo, he'd be able to cause a large enough distraction to take some of the heat off HQ.

Over at planetary HQ...

"Hold the lines, damn it!" The Captain snapped, C-14 rifles and auto-turrets firing an unending stream of lead. The pirates they were fighting had more men than they did, and it was beginning to show. It wasn't that they were taking casualties – so much as they were beginning to run out of supplies and weapons. Their auto-turrets chewed up precious ammunition – but there was nothing they could do but hope for reinforcements, and that soon they'd reach the end of these unending *COCKROACHES*!

But for that to happen first, the jamming tower needed to be taken down.

The Captain paused mid-firing, his armor picking up a very distant *crash* - followed by a concussive force that threw him back several feet.

He shook the ringing from his head, a shiver suddenly going up his spine. The auto-turrets had fell silent, and there were no sounds of gunfire from behind him.

He looked up just in time to stare into the barrel of a pirate's pistol, a sinister grin plastered on his face...

And then suddenly, the chests of him and his three buddies simply exploded – tearing their bodies in half.

He looked around for the shooters, and saw twelve Marines standing there – eleven in standard blue, and one in grey.

The one in grey lifted up his visor, and revealed...

"Raynor!" The Captain shouted. "You're our reinforcements?"

"Yep. Picked up an automated beacon about two hours ago." Raynor explained, helping the man to his feet. "What's the situation here?"

"Bad. All we've got is local militia and a few Marines – they've got Firebats, Marauders, Medics, Marines and Vulture bikes." The Captain explained, looking around. "Is this it?"

"This is it." Raynor nodded. "Now come on – we've got some pirates to purge. There can't be that many left on this planet, and we've already blown their fleet to hell."

The Captain nodded in relief. With the fleet gone, that meant that the pirates had a finite amount of people left.

"This way then, Commander." The Captain gestured, motioning for Raynor to follow him into the planetary HQ.

Raynor nodded. "Right. Secure the perimeter. And just like Swann said – one to a customer."

The marines nodded and took to the defenses – half manning the defensive lines and the other half tending to the wounded.

Inside, people were bustling about from console to console with frantic precision – running from place to place narrowly avoiding other people in their way without slowing down at all. At the heart of it all was the Planetary Overseer who ran the planet in the name of the Kel-Morian Combine, staring into endless banks of data-terminals fed by his Adjutant.

"Governor." The Captain greeted. "Good news – our agent's taken out the jamming tower and reinforcements have arrived."

"Great. From who?" The Overseer asked, flipping through maps.

"Commander Raynor, sir." The Captain said. The Overseer stopped, and turned around to face them. He looked appraisingly at Raynor, before extending a hand.

"Commandor Raynor. I've heard many things about you – most of it bad." The Overseer greeted. "Welcome to Meinhoff's planetary HQ...for as long as we're still here." He added as an afterthought.

Raynor shook the Overseer's hand. "With us here, those pirates are as good as gone. We've already taken care of their fleet – all that's left of them are the ones that made it to the surface."

The Overseer's face brightened slightly. "Is that so? This is most excellent, and in our favor as well. With their jamming tower down and the casualties they've suffered so far – that evens the score a little bit."

"Do we have the location of their bases?" Raynor asked.

The man nodded, bringing up the datafeed. "Their main – and only base lies here, on a plateau a few klicks south of here. There's a back way in – but it's blocked by rubble. The main entrance is heavily guarded by bunkers and Spider Mines – with at least six Vultures patrolling the perimeter. The sides are next to inaccessible and are essentially kill-zones waiting to happen. Even if you could breach the rubble, they are far too narrow and only allow for one person to pass at a time. Luckily, they have nothing in the way of anti-air defenses, but we don't have any dropships."

Raynor smirked. "Well then, all we need to do is drop in from the back and they'll never see us coming."

"You sure you and your marines can tackle all that alone?" The Overseer asked skeptically. "You've only got twelve marines and no medics."

Raynor shrugged. "We're testing some new gear. Your Captain can testify to their effectiveness."

The man turned to the Captain. "Sir, whatever the hell it was, it blew four of those pirates in half."

He turned back to Raynor, who was grinning.

"I don't suppose you could share this with us." The Overseer asked hopefully.

Raynor shrugged. "Let's get rid of these pirates, first."

"Sir! Incoming transmission. It's him."

"Patch him through." He ordered. The tech gave him a thumbs up, the familiar, haunting sound of a C-10 firing filling Raynor's ears.

"This is Command."

"Command, this is Oxide Two-Zero. Tower's down, plus twenty or so foot-mobiles. Bastards finally retreated back to their base."

"Confirmed, Oxide Two-Zero. Good work on the tower. How soon can you make it back?"

"I'm halfway back already – although I could use some medical attention. I took one to the shoulder."

"Roger Oxide Two-Zero – we'll inform the line. Command out." He turned to the technician. "Inform the defensive line and our medics for Oxide's return."

"Yes, sir!"

Raynor raised an eyebrow. "You have a Ghost?"

The Overseer shook his head. "Commander, if we had a Ghost, the Dominion or the Confederacy would've snatched them up years ago. No, this is simply a...highly skilled individual that specializes in assassination – both long and close range. Thus far, he has been one of our main strategic advantages over these pirates."

"Interesting. I could use someone like him." Raynor grinned.

"Well, as you say – we'll have to wait until the scum's been dealt with." The Overseer reminded him. "I've only a few marines and a handful of volunteers, however."

Raynor shook his head. "My boys will be all we'll need." He said, examining the base. All that was there were a bunch of supply depots, a command center, and some buildings they were using as barracks for their troops. The six Vultures wouldn't be an issue – and they certainly wouldn't be expecting an attack from behind.

"Patch me through to the Hyperion." Raynor said.

The Overseer turned to a tech, who then nodded and gave him the thumbs up. A holographic Horner appeared.

"Commander. What do you need?"

"I need a Spec Ops dropship for an assault mission. Preferably with cloak if you've got one." Raynor requested.

"I'll see what I can do. Horner out."

Five minutes later, and the soldier previously known as "Oxide Two-Zero" came hobbling up the front, drenched in blood. He had just enough strength to make it ten feet short of the defensive line before collapsing.

Raynor's marines nodded to each other, two of them breaking forward from the defensive line to grab the fallen man and his C-10 rifle, whilst two others leapt forward of them, XC-14B's sweeping the area for any hostiles.

Once the soldier was secure, they were tapped on the shoulders, whereupon they began shuffling back towards the defensive line slowly, careful to keep their backs towards their comrades.

The marine that was hefting the man didn't stop, bringing him into the building.

Behind him, C-14 rifles began opening fire. He looked back just in time to see another Pirate horde of Marauders, Marines and medics come barreling down the road.

"INCOMING!" He roared, putting the man down gingerly before running back out to the line, guns firing.

It was brutal.

For the first time, the effects of their new rounds could be seen en-masse, and the only word that could describe the carnage was bloody.

At first, it started out with only six marines, and then seven, then nine, then all twelve as Raynor joined the lines, guns blazing as fast as their guns would allow.

The new rounds worked exactly like they were supposed to – penetrate armor and then explode inside, dealing maximum damage. Against the standard CMC armor line which already had poor performance against the C-14's standard round, against Swann's new creation they were little better than gigantic, powered coffins. Armor fragments were blown both forward and back as the rounds exploded inside the armor, rupturing it from inside. The sight of their comrades bleeding guts splattered all over their own armor and spilling onto the ground made for a terrifying sight indeed. Those in the front that had tried to retreat were only instead pushed forward by the weight of the horde from behind – and by the time those in the back had seen why those in the front saw fit to run, it was too late for them.

The approach was bloody, littered with corpses and half-functioning armor suits, most of which had blown out chestpieces.

Raynor cracked his neck as his second in command walked up to him.

"Dropship's here." He growled.

Raynor scoffed. "Screw the dropship. We're kicking in the front door. Have that thing recon the camp." He turned to the Captain. "You said that the perimeter's guarded by Vultures?"

The Captain nodded. "Yeah. Six of them, why?"

"I used to drive one of them. Marines, on me!" He ordered, vaulting over the defensive line.


[Z1]Part Two Prologue