Disclaimer: Starcraft characters and setting are owned by Blizzard Entertainment. OCs belong to me

A/N: The story will begin on Aiur just like in Legacy of the Void. but will diverge on its own soon from time to time to observe characters from all four Protoss factions. Additional focus will also be placed on the Terrans and occasionally the Zerg Swarm during the Protoss campaign.


Chapter 9: "Homefront" Part 4


-Fjellhavn Underground Complex-

The concrete and metal hallways echoed with rapid footsteps drowned by the din of psionic cracks and gunfire. William used his longer legs and psionic-enhancements to flee Corona in a trail of red sparks. He zig-zagged and bounced between pipes to ensure the enraged spectre never got a solid spray of bullets to his plasma shield.

At the start of their high speed game of cat and mouse, William's raw velocity far surpassed Corona's terran agility, restricting her to closing the gap with her ARG rifle. Often William would simply speed away and inaccurately return-fire with his pistol before dashing away. However, the albino was expending excess energy and slowly losing speed, while the spectre's stamina remained seemingly endless in her terrazine high. He found himself forced to run more frequently until it became a continuous, desperate sprint.

'Damn it! I haven't gotten exercise in months!'

He spun around and fired a full chamber back at his pursuer. Still running, Corona lashed out a tense hand and halted all 6 bullets with powerful telekinesis, before shattering them into particles.

"That's not fair!" cried William as he continued running. "If I had my other weapon, I'd slice you."

"You're going to pay for what you did in blood!"

"What? Because I sent your delinquent friends to hell? Don't worry, I sent each of them off with their own Darwin Award!"

Corona's eyes flashed a dangerous purple as she lashed out a mind-blast, shattering the concrete surroundings where William stepped on a second earlier.

The two dashed across a metal bridge on the second floor, over which Khalis stood in place charging her attack. The focus orb between her caged hands was continuously trying to grow, and Khalis dedicated most of her attention to compress the orb whilst gathering the ambient energies produced by the fusion cores in the complex.

'Just standing here... charging my attack... a little bored... I wonder how Val'idin is doing?'


"Oh gods!" screamed Val'idin internally as his sore arms rattled from repeatedly blocking Duran's furious swings. The ghost launched a kick into Val'idin's gut, who doubled over in pain and managed to blink away before Duran could slash his exposed back. The dark templar reappeared meters away, prompting Duran to unleash multiple chains of red lightning that Val'idin had to perilously dodge away from.

"For Adun's sake, someone help me!"


'Perhaps on second thought a whole five minutes' startup time is pretty abysmal in terms of usability in battle... or any situation in general...' thought Khalis. "Just 4 more minutes!"


-Fjellhavn Forest Outskirts-

Amidst the trees' shadows walked a horde of infested terrans, each carrying an online hand-held beacon in hand or claw. Spoken words and guttural growls coordinated their movements as they positioned their numbers in a fake mobilization, feinting preparations for a spear-headed attack against the Moebius encirclement of the city.

Some of the infested tilted their mutated heads, using hyper-sensitive tentacles and/or enhanced sensory organs to detect Moebius' imminent approach. That was their cue to deactivate the beacons and claw their way into the earth, vanishing from sight and expertly covering their burrows.

Moebius marines charged through the thicket with rifles ready, searching wildly for the IFF signatures' sources as the three battlecruisers flew overhead.

"What trickery is this?" yelled Gestefield. "They just vanished from the radar! Not a single soldier nor beacon in sight!" He chucked his pipe across the bridge, infuriated by the seemingly endless series of crazy turns in the past few hours. "Have our newly constructed orbital command center do a thorough scan, they may be cloaking their forces."

"Admiral! We report multiple confirmed Dominion contacts attacking our bases and supply lines!"

"What?! Turn the ships around and get them before they escape!"


-New Jamestown, Moebius Base-

Eagle-1's gatling guns unleashed their torrent of armor-piercing bullets that shredded the orbital command's outer layer alongside the 9 other vikings tearing it down. Other members of Eagle Squadron were busy mopping up SCVs and decimated the few marine patrols stationed in the area. Once the guards were cleared, the vikings worked to pillage the barracks and factories as fast as their gatling guns would enable.

"Enemy production halted, Chief!"

"Good work, Freya." praised Strommen, whose viking stood watch for Moebius' impending aggro.

All the vikings were painted red and marked with the Dominion insignia, which worked with their reprogrammed IFF markers to disguise themselves as Dominion vikings.

Meanwhile, the faster vikings of Hawk Squadron flew over a wider portion of the region to raid cargo transports resupplying the rest of Moebius' army, as well as any SCV parties sent to scout for potential mineral fields. All were easy pickings for well-aimed ripwave missiles.

The vikings transformed and flew off as the three battlecruisers lumbered over the ruined base and supply lines like birds returning to a raided nest.

Gestefield raged, throwing a tablet computer against a wall where it shattered to pieces. His mineral line was destroyed, and his base sacked by several Dominion vikings he never anticipated!

"Admiral! Our accompanying ground forces still need time to catch up, and we can't cover all our strategic locations with three battlecruisers!"

"Damn it! They'll be free to strike wherever and whenever they please! Spread out! I want the Dominion forces found and destroyed. Do you hear me! Now!"


"This city should be destroyed minutes ago..." mused Duran as he continued his psionic barrage against the disheveled, damaged dark templar struggling to blink-spam and taking glancing hits. The complex shook as the thundering of siege tank impacts rocked the rocky mountains. They smashed bunkers and blew apart stone, but it would still be excruciatingly time consuming compared to simply glassing the area from the sky.

Elsewhere, William decided to switch tactics. His legs ached from sustained sprinting and thus lost his speed advantage. He knew if Corona caught him exhausted, he wouldn't be able to fight back and risk death. He broke off a long piece of piping whilst running.

'So she's dangerous in close-quarters, even beat Kaldalis. But maybe... if I can catch her by surprise with a blitz, I can kill her for good this time!' His natural protoss strength enabled him to bend the metal pipe's end at a 90 degree angle, then he hastily pulled out his fusion cutter and shakily trimmed that end to a sharp edge, creating an improvised pickaxe.

He lead them to a corner, skidded to a halt, and waited at the turn. Hearing Corona's loud footsteps and timing his attack when she reached the corner, William mustered the remnants of his psionic speed to swing his pipe pickaxe with enough velocity and kinetic force to shatter bone and pierce body armor.

That should have been the result, had Corona not performed a knee slide, ducking under the entirety of William's strike.

"SHIT. Press the attack!" He roared a battle cry and swung downwards hoping to catch the spectre during the awkward slide, but she was quick enough to roll aside and reorient onto her feet. The albino protoss lunged forward with his green trenchcoat tailing behind him and tried to hook his weapon against her neck, but the pipe's end clashed with her ARG rifle instead.

"Pathetic. Even now your strategies are always so predictable."

"Fuck this shit I'm out!" Wanting to cut his losses, William shoved the spectre back and fled towards the exit.

Khalis noticed the now wretched albino craven conspicuously trying to flee the scene. "William! Where are you going?!"

"You think your lives are worth my sacrifice? Social Darwinism!"

He was about to run up the stairs to the outside world, but was violently, and painfully, jerked back by the end of his long nerve cord. The sudden stop of his body's rapid acceleration nearly snapped his neck as he fell back onto the concrete floor. Corona, having easily caught up with his slower attempt to escape, lashed out with telekinesis, and William, too tired and injured to fully counter her psionics, felt the crushing hold twist and flatten his body.

"You haven't changed a bit. There's always some cruel streak with you." she stared him down with an uncharacteristic degree of disgust. "I'll make the most of your suffering before you die."

"Fuck you-" He cut himself short with growls and barely suppressed screams as he thrashed, trying to bear the excruciating pain. Corona's eyes flashed a purple glint as she smirked.


Gestefield had spread his accompanying ground army to search for Dominion troops amidst the pines whilst guarding the supply lines. The Dominion vikings were constantly stalking his army's surroundings in view, and he had nothing fast enough to pursue them should they attack his assets unguarded.

"Where are the rest? I know they're here somewhere! Come out of hiding!"

In the midst of the admiral's paranoia, a powerful psionic voice tapped into his head from afar. "Admiral Gestefield, why haven't you attacked the city?"

"The Dominion are here on this backwater planet! I'm going to flush them out before making further advances. The Magistrate of Mar Sara tried to trick me into a Dominion ambush, but I saw through his trickery!"

"Admiral." spoke the voice with an eerie calmness. "Surely you are mistaken. I sense not a single Dominion soldier on this entire planet."

"WHAT?! But I swear!" he blubbered in cold-sweat. "I saw them here!... No wait... what if that was also a trick?!"

There was a pregnant pause. "What you see does not matter. You had one goal, and that is to destroy Fjellhavn. Instead, you blundered and wasted all our times."

Knowing who exactly was furiously scolding him now, Gestefield felt a pit of dread fester in his stomach. "I will destroy their city now!" He addressed his officers. "Order all our ships to attack the city! Full speed ahead!"


"Commander Tana! Our troops in the mountains managed to avoid siege tank fire and barricaded the upward passes, we can hold for a while longer!"

"That's a relief." uttered Tana. "The missile turrets are still down. What are they doing?!"

"We still don't know. Another team's been sent to investigate, but the door's been barricaded shut! It'll take a while to cut through the reinforced steel!"

"Damn it!" cursed Tana. "What about the battlecruisers? Are they still aimlessly milling about?"

"No Commander... they've turned around and heading straight for us now!"

"For fucks' sake!" She tugged at her blonde hair, completely ignoring her composure as a leading officer. "Where is the Dominion?!"


"I must admit, dark templar, I'm impressed by how you're keeping pace with me." admitted a straight-faced Duran to a Val'idin barely supporting himself on his two legs. "Of course, you ended up just dodging and running. But few can last this long, save for rare individuals like Zeratul and Kerrigan, though I was significantly weakened before fighting the latter-"

Val'idin cut Duran's bored-induced rambling short by slashing a nearby pipe, which blew pressurized hot steam to obscure vision. Val'idin turned to run again, but was blown back by red lighting that burst from the vapors and shattered his weakened shield.

"That was quite rude. You protoss should learn your place among masters..."

The nerazim fell from the 2nd floor and landed next to Khalis, who showed visible exertion in trying to tame a shining bright focus orb, releasing excess sparks from a congregation of energies begging to be released.

"Kh-Khalis!" sputtered Val'idin. "What are you waiting for!? Unleash the damn thing!"

"I can not do that yet." answered Khalis.

"What?! How?!"

"If I release the attack now before it stabilizes, I might possibly destroy us as well! Just a little more time!"

Duran strode through the foggy mist with his red blade in hand. "An interesting development..."

Khalis tensed, unable to move lest she disrupt the compressed focus orb. "Oh no..."

"Admittedly, I had forgotten about you after dealing with your inferior comrade. Tell me, were you hoping that build up of power energy will save you?"

"Silence! Not one step forward! If you attack me, I will unleash this psionic storm!"

"And risk killing your friends as well?"

"Better than allowing your cruel victory over this planet!" spat Khalis defiantly.

Duran laughed. "Your race is always so foolishly defiant in the face of extinction. Do not fret young creature. Today is your lucky day..."


The psychic twisting and bending of William's body ceased, relieving the barely conscious protoss as he laid limp and broken. He listlessly stared at the spectre who held his life in her hands.

"As fun as that was, I think I've had enough." uttered Corona. Her malicious expression shifted to a stern glare. "See you in hell when the world burns in flames."

The tension in the air intensified as her acting hand cranked up the pressure. But for a split second in her moment of triumph, a zealot rammed her aside with his tough plasma shield, breaking her psionic grip. The spectre rolled aside and held her shoulder as Kaldalis moved to carry William to safety with his good arm.

"How dare you..." cursed the spectre. "Now my arm's going to be sore!" She placed both palms forward in preparation for a furious mindblast. "You dare get between me and my vengeance!?"

"That is enough Corona. We are leaving."

Corona turned back with a furious expression to Duran, syncing with Khalis' own incredulous and hopeful expression of surprise. "But master! My kill! What about the city?"

"It will be spared today, for we have accomplished a secondary goal already. For now, we'll return and give our admiral a stern lecture before we waste our efforts further."

The spectre was silent and disappointed in losing her target, but she offered a sick smile. "Alright... that sounds fun at least." She rushed to Duran's side and stood in place obediently as Duran looked to Khalis.

"Enjoy one of the few last victories your race will ever achieve, firstborn."

"Indeed I shall, for you will not live another sunrise!" The brief moment of inaction from Duran and Corona allowed Khalis to completely finish stabilize her focus orb. Releasing all her exertion and pent up control in a battle cry, her two hands holding the orb from her chest flew apart. With the grip released, the compressed orb inflated for a brief second, then exploded in a blossom of arcing lightning surges. Khalis continued to struggle in trying to direct the arcs, which immediately fed themselves into the power lines that led to the grid.

She directed some of the lightning to strike the two interloping Terrans, but they vanished in a flash of red light as an arc smitten the floor they had stood upon.

"They escaped..." muttered Khalis as she continued to direct the massive reservoir of unchained energy through the grid.


"Commander! The power grid is receiving a sudden surge in power!"

"What happened?!" yelled Tana as the tactical table before her brightened and flickered. All their computers and electronic devices, as well as the lighting, were overloading with sparks of excess energy unable to be contained by Terran components.

"All our missile turrets are coming back online. They have enough power to last us several minutes!"

The disturbing anomaly regarding the power surge was instantly forgotten. "Yes! Finally!" She smacked her hands together for a clapping emphasis. "Destroy their battlecruisers now!"

Even before she gave her command, every man and woman operating the missile turrets eagerly turned their sights on the Moebius battlecruisers approaching in the distance over the din of siege tank fire, and unleashed their destructive salvo.

Gestefield could only watch in horror. "No..."

Repeating what happened earlier, the swarms of tiny armor-piercing missiles infested the capital ships' hulls, blowing bits of armor and parts that fell to the forest below. One battlecruiser was blown apart and crashed, flattening the pines upon impact. The surviving two moved away and up high in orbit to escape the fusillade, whilst the rest of Moebius' ground forces grew restless over their abandonment.

The Moebius admiral slumped onto his chair, too fed up with the day's events to give a proper rant. "Blasted... we'll wait here-"

Seven battlecruisers braked from warp space perilously close to the battered Moebius duo of battlecruisers, weapons already primed and directed as Gestefield's fleet stared in horror.

"IFF confirms Dominion battlecruisers; we have actual visual! The Hyperion is leading them!"

Gestefield stared slack-jawed in disbelief as an officer automatically received an incoming transmission.

"Moebius fleet this is Commander Raynor with my Raiders and the Dominion Armed Forces! Lower your weapons and surrender now! You will be given quarter!"

Hearing the promise of mercy from the famous freedom fighter James Raynor, Gestefield's crew immediately cut power from their weapons systems.

"No no no NO!" screamed Gestefield! "This isn't how my career is supposed to end!"

"Indeed, Admiral. Your career will not end by imprisonment under the Dominion."

Gestefield whirled around to see Duran had suddenly appeared behind him, with a blank expression as he stood cross-armed in his camouflaged body armor. "Thank God it's you! You have a plan to get me out, right?!"

"On the contrary, I believe it's time to relieve you of our duties."

"What?"

"I already suspected this from the start; your incompetence has costed this fleet a clean victory. Four hours passed, and you still failed to conquer even a single city of farmers with three battlecruisers and advanced hardware. Instead, you were beguiled by a man far below your supposed experience and sent on a wild goose chase because of your poor aggro."

Gestefield was reduced to grovelling, now fearing Duran's fury. "I-I promise you. It won't happen again I swear!"

"You are right, Gestefield. It won't happen again, because failure of this magnitude deserves an equivalent punishment. Your life will be retired permanently."

The old man went bug-eyed. "No. NO!" he yelled desperately. "You can't kill me! Who will lead your fleets and armies? You have no one else to turn to!"

"I already have a candidate in mind. You were merely a pawn in my schemes. For now, I've grown weary of your sniveling. Corona."

The spectre decloaked in front of Gestefield, spooking him to fall onto his back. Corona's purple eyes gazed down on her victim as she twisted her hand in the air, and Gestefield screamed as he felt a head-splitting pain rack his head. Blood flowed from his orifices as he slumped limp, twitching in his dying moments.

The crew watched in horror as Duran turned back towards the hallway with Corona following his head. A simple, yet sinister psychic command possessed every crew member as they, with a zombie-like trance, powered the ship's armaments and attacked the overwhelming Dominion fleet head-on.

A dropship flew from the hangar bay of the lead Moebius battlecruiser, escaping the barrage of anti-capital ship batteries exchanged between the two fleets.

"So I don't mean to kill the mood but..." said Corona as she finished huffing a canister of terrazine. "What was the whole point of this escapade? We did lose an admiral."

"For someone as mentally unhinged as you are, you still have a modicum of rational thought. Like I said, we have another candidate to replace Gestefield."

"But where is he? Why didn't we blow up the city?"

"All I ask is patience."

Corona remained confused and unsatisfied with the vague answer, but refrained from pressing the issue further. "Alright. So what do we do now?"

"While Kallistra leads Amon's slave brood in decimating Shakuras, we will seek out another over whom we will impose Amon's presence. A powerful individual and legendary tactician from the Brood War."

"Sounds like a lot of people," deadpanned Corona. "Just who is this guy?"

"A cerebrate who survived Kerrigan's purge. I've worked with him before and thus am well aware of his talented competence. Sensing him on a distant planet, we will awaken him from his seclusion."

Corona smirked. "Digging up some old worm on a backwater planet? Alright, count me in."

The dropship zipped away into warp space as the two remaining Moebius battlecruisers were annihilated.


"Chief!" called out Hawk-1 enthusiastically. "Command reports the Dominion destroyed the Moebius fleet and are descending to clear the stranded army!"

"We did it," echoed Eagle-1 with a slight smile over her stoic face.

"Well said Rohan, Freya." resounded Strommen. He and the two viking squadrons gathered in formation and flew towards the capital. His mouth gave a weary smile "I never thought I'd live to celebrate a Dominion fleet saving our humble planet..."


Fjellhavn's government hall erupted into cheers as the invading ground army immediately surrendered in the face of Dominion battlecruisers and drop pods raining over the settled regions. Red and blue marines scoured the forests for stragglers and surrounded the siege camps as the enemy threw down their arms and fell to their knees in submission. Medivacs with teams of medics descended to the city as the outlying settlements were liberated from Moebius' control.

Tana allowed herself a small smile as she slumped onto the tactical table, weary of the day's stress. But the joy of victory was short-lived for her. In the face of total populicide by the now feared Moebius Corps, Haven had levied a majority of its people to fight without hope for peaceful surrender. How many people from their small communities lay dead compared to the total surviving population? She knew the jubilation of victory would be short-lived after the people remember of the heavy price they paid for survival.


Civilians and soldiers ran through the snowy streets as the medivacs parked in the cliff starports or landed wherever space was available outside. Medics relief teams quickly moved to heal the wounded and save the dying. Meanwhile, some engineers were busy trying to cut their way through the reinforced neo-steel entrance to the underground power grid.

"Why is the door welded shut?" complained one engineer. No SCVs were on site, and with every power tool spent repairing fortifications and mobilizing the Viking Corps earlier, they were stuck with hand-held fusion cutters.

Lexi, followed by an inquisitive Constance, approached the door. "Here, allow me." As the engineers parted, she activated her curved red psi-blade and sliced a clean oval into the door to the surprise of many. Sheathing her blade, she was about to ram the slice down until a lightning strike blew it off from the other side, and her bulky suit barely dodged the flying piece of metal as it knocked over an unsuspecting marine.

"That's so cool!" enthused Constance as Lexi grimaced.

A weary Khalis emerged from the hole. Cape torn and armor singed, she was supporting an exhausted Val'idin as they shielded their eyes from the sunlight. Lexi rushed to the two.

"You're alright! Where's William?" she asked with concern.

The dull golden reflection of Kaldalis' armor caught her attention, and she bore witness to Kaldalis hoisting William's arm over his neck with his good limb; the other dangled uselessly.

"Oh my god!" she rushed over. Kaldalis allowed William to fall into Lexi's arms; the bulk and strength of the medic power armor easily enabled her to carry and cradle the taller yet skinny alien after dropping her shield. "William! Are you okay?!" She worriedly questioned as her visor scanned his vitals. Constance tried to look over with her short body.

The albino slowly looked to his friend without a hint of the hostile emotions he felt earlier. "It kinda hurts everywhere Lexi, but I think I'll live."

"Jesus Christ. You're not dying at least. Our ship's parked in one of the starports, I'll treat you there instead of the medical camps." she looked to Kaldalis. "Thank you so much for looking after him, Kaldalis. It means a lot to us."

The veteran warrior held his broken arm. "I am honored by your gratitude."

"Lexi," said William. "Can you fix the old man's arm? It looks pathetic."

"Sure, Willie." Lexi obliged his request, setting him down and focused on the disabled limb. The protoss warrior allowed the terran to inject a pain-numbing substance into his system, and the medic held his arm with both hands. "Just stay still and calm. I promise this won't take long." Used to pain, Kaldalis merely winced as Lexi set his arm's bones into place. The visor scanned for important medical information as she focused her green auto-laser over the arm. Kaldalis could already feel the pain subsiding as the beam of energy made incisions through his entire arm.

"Protoss anatomy isn't the same as a terran's, so precision is very important if we want the bones to heal properly. Fortunately..." said Lexi as she read the information feed. "... your bone assembly is around 89% accurate. It's a good thing I practiced on William before. Don't take my word at full value though, let it rest, heal, and get used to its new shape." She stopped the laser and allowed Kaldalis to roll his arms for inspection.

"I now give you my own gratitude as well, Lexi Nguyen." said Kaldalis, addressing her full name for emphasis on respect.

"Yep, just being a friendly medic." she once again tenderly cradled William in her arms and walked towards the starport, with Kaldalis accompanying them. Someone called Constance and she ran off.

"Can we go a little faster, Lexi?" requested William. "I don't like people seeing me carried like this."

"You know it wouldn't matter because we'd probably never see them again."

"Oh, right." He turned his aching head to Kaldalis. "You, old man. Why did you risk your life to help me?"

Kaldalis was quick to answer. "We are comrades. There is no reason I should not protect your life with my own."

"But we're not friends. We barely know each other. And I was constantly rude, and tried to abandon you all to die." he admitted. "My life shouldn't be worth anything to you. It doesn't make sense!"

Truthfully, Kaldalis had been unconscious at the time and wasn't aware of William's 'treacherous cowardice'. The moral paragon, who would never abandon his comrades in the face of death, considered his next words with careful tact. "You stood by us in battle. Even if your life was not dedicated to the same risks as ours', your aid was crucial to our success."

"You don't hate me?"

It suddenly occurred to Kaldalis that William was probably still young. His exact age was unknown, but he appeared like a youngling that only recently became an adult in the past few decades. "No. Do not feel guilt for considering yourself. Tomorrow we will still be comrades."

William said nothing further, falling back to a forlorn expression. Kaldalis then remembered he had to tend to Khalis and Val'idin, and doubled back.

As the templar limped out of earshot, Lexi addressed her partner. "You seem more down than tired. Do you want to talk when we're alone?"

"Uh. Yeah. I'd like that..."


"Would it be appropriate to say I delivered our victory?" stated Khalis with no iota of pride.

"Ludicrous. All you did was stand there." said Val'idin. The two were sitting in the medical camp to rest among the hundreds of soldiers nursed by numerous Haven and Dominion medics. The cheers were quick to subside when new orders were quickly issued, and the victors were reminded of the grim duties in recovering traumatic battle injuries and burying the dead. Civilians, with a disturbingly high percentage being children, wandered throughout the snow-laden streets and the rocky, grassy camps, but were not permitted to go home to their towns until the Dominion properly cleared the area of pocket resistances.

"Duran was clearly intimidated by my threat to incinerate him to subatomic pieces!"

"And us with him!" responded Val'idin with an iota of jest.

"A Templar is always ready to make the ultimate sacrifice." She said while lamenting the hole on her blue cape that somehow grew bigger since the last fight.

"What if I never asked to be part of that sacrifice?" Said Val'idin as he inspected another burn mark out of many on his platinum armor.

"Then you are a coward." said Khalis lightly. Her tone held little weight, for she knew Val'idin completely risked his life to accomplish her goal.

"I do believe he spared us." said Val'idin, returning to the main topic. "Duran is far more powerful than we could ever hope to match, so there must be a reason he permitted the planet's survival."

A part of Khalis knew that was true. "Why was he here then? Out of all places?"

"That, we may never know." He focused his gazes to her own. "You fought well. Of course, your lack of restraint is still horribly paltry, but the attack you conjured from nothingness was a brilliant idea."

"Well, I did concoct the technique from the psi storm template."

"At least you're not inflating your ego further, templar." Val'idin took notice of Kaldalis' approach, but before he could utter a word, another terran rolled in on a... chair with wheels? Captain Zack Hai waved one of his arms as a teary-eyed Constance pushed the wheelchair by a pair of handles.

"Fellas! Boy am I glad to see y'all alive!" he yelled over the din of the peoples' chatter.

Khalis grew uneasy seeing the heavily bandaged stump where his leg used to be. Why isn't he in bed recovering? Or at the very least, disheartened by the lost of his limb? "Does... it hurt?" she tentatively asked while pointing to the amputated area, unsure if it was a subject she should ever shed light on.

"Khalis!" hissed Val'idin.

"Papa says the doctors gave him pain-killers," said the girl as she wiped residual tears from her eyes. "He'll be alright."

"That'd be correct! The medics gave me some top-line anesthetics for this captain." he emphasized with a fist to his chest. "Of course. I did feel a little down over losing my leg. But everything perked up when my girl came to help her old timer." He gave a cheeky grin, ruffling Constance's short dark-brown hair. She giggled slightly in response.

"Ah, so this is your daughter?" continued Khalis as Val'idin stood idle, being less familiar with the light-skinned captain.

"Indeed she is."

Khalis leaned in to address the terran infant at head level. "You father fought bravely, young one. Do not feel distraught over his injury, for he is alive. You're proud and honored to have noble parentage."

"Thanks, Miss Khalis." said Constance as she offered a grin.

"Well, that'll be enough chit-chat for now. I need to go meet with command" He turned himself around and Constance remained behind him.

"That sounds pleasant," said Val'idin. "We really need to return to our people at Shakuras as well."

"Alright. Suit yourself. How about we walk together since we're heading the same way?"

After Khalis helped Val'idin's sore body stand, the Daelaam trio followed Captain Hai as he wheeled his way over the grass, rock, and snow to the government hall across the city, with Constance helping to push. Khalis observed the father-daughter pair with apprehension, unsure if Val'idin or Kaldalis could sense what the high templar's psionic affinity could detect.

Constance was constantly feeding Captain Hai empathetic waves of artificial happiness and jubilation through a telepathic link to mask his evident depression from limb loss. Khalis subtly read the captain's mind, he was even aware of his daughters' effort to combat the melancholy most would feel in his situation. It was a touching display of kinship.

It also confirmed her suspicions, as if they weren't obvious from the beginning. Constance's mind-reading during their first encounter, her somehow psychically reconstituting Khalis' psionic control, and her telepathic link with her father who himself was aware, confirmed that Constance was most definitely psionic.

Every psionic on Aiur, meaning everyone, was given mandatory lessons on controlling their psionic powers. Later, Khalis had learned the Nerazim expected the same from their protoss children, as expected. Did this child have a mentor to prevent a potential catastrophe?

Khalis sent a telepathic message to Val'idin sharing what she had learned. He looked to her with intrigue, and after a moment of self-thought sent his own message to Constance. "I wouldn't recommend continue the emotional supplication for long."

Constance angled her head to stare up the taller protoss, while watching her father's path. "Why not?" She instantly knew what he was referring to.

"I've read stories describing such links. One day when you're gone, your father will be deprived of your light, and he will be miserable."

"But I don't want him to be sad now though."

"What is so wrong about her supporting one's emotional sanity?" asked Khalis.

"He must learn to cope with his loss." answered Val'idin. "It is never wrong to support. But this man needs to face and accept his sacrifices, or he will become too dependent. Let your father be strong for himself, Constance."

"... I don't want papa to end up like that. But what do I do now?"

"Lessen the link slowly overtime so you would not shock him so soon," offered Khalis in Val'idin's place.

"Ok. Bit-by-bit. Thank you, miss." she said calmly.


"Uncle!" Tana rushed to hug Strommen Sr. as he entered the bustling government hall, still wearing his viking pilot uniform.

"Relax, lass. I'm alive. Most of the squad is alive. But most importantly..." he pulled out of the tight hug and braced both her shoulders. "You and the people of Haven are alive."

Hawk-1 stood with Eagle-1 and most of the viking pilots that entered with Councilman Strommen. The red-haired man addressed his blond friend. "Hey Freya, want to go drink some mead to celebrate?"

The stoic woman glanced her eyes. "...sure Rohan, why not? Just let me get out of this suit first" The two squad leaders left with the pilots in tow as the two Strommens spoke.

"I heard that some protoss, who are for some reason from the Dominion, aided us in our battle?"

"That's correct Uncle." said Tana, falling into a military persona. "I believe they were the ones who restarted the power grid too. A daring and risky plan by Commander Nathaniel, but it paid off in the end."

"That's good. And after that, we have a lot of work on our hands." said Strommen solemnly.

"Right... of course Chief Councilman."

"So!" called out Nathaniel as he entered holding a crate of beer and plopped it on the now offline tactical table. "I'd reckon we'd drink all our stress away before diving straight first into reconstruction and Dominion diplomacy."

Tana, with a wry expression, declined a bottle whilst her uncle claimed one for his own. "To a hard-earned victory and the continuation of our republic."

Nathaniel returned with a smile, then noticed Dr. Hanson busily chatting with her fellow scientists. "Hey Doc! Nice work with the infested terrans!"

Hanson looked over and responded. "Oh no. That wasn't all me. Sure I did ask them very politely, but they coordinated everything themselves."

"Whatever you like to say Dr. Hanson!" jested Tana. "You're the best! Seriously!"

"Want a beer?" offered Strommen. "You deserve it."

"Oh no, thank you, but I don't drink." She returned to her prior conversation, leaving the three leaders to their discussion.


Constance and Captain Hai entered the gigantic metal painted front doors first, and Khalis followed in with the rest.

"This is where we will part ways." said Val'idin.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay? I'm sure everyone would like to give you a proper thank you."

"Your sentiments are appreciated, but I worry it may take too long even if it was planned to be brief. Time is of the essence."

"Alrighty then. I wish you folks good luck."

"En taro Tassadar." said the three protoss simultaneously.

The Daelaam trio finished bidding the two terrans their farewells and rushed across the hall leading to the starport as fast as their battered bodies would allow, leaving the father and daughter alone.

Hanson raced to Constance. "Constance! There you are! Are you alright? What happened to you? Do you need some juice? How's your head?"

"Dr. Hanson I'm alright." blushed Constance as the doctor blatantly mothered the dark-skinned child to Captain Hai's amusement. "I was kidnapped, but the protoss saved me."

Someone entered from the front hall doors and cried. "Everyone! Raynor's coming right outside to visit!"

The government hall became further engrossed in activity as people cleaned the mess of papers and two rows of white marines lined up for a welcoming reception.

"Blast!" cursed Strommen. "I'm still in my viking suit."

"Jim's here?" squeaked Dr. Hanson, allowing Constance to slip away.

The hall doors were held wide open as James Raynor and the Hyperion's engineer, Rory Swann, sauntered into view. The two rows of Haven Republican marines saluted as the legendary rebel fighter, still dressed in his casual outlaw attire, strolled in to a chorus of cheers and applause grander than the one given to the protoss.

"Looks like their glorious leader came back to'em, ey' cowboy?" said Swann over the echoing reception.

"Shut it Swann." snapped Raynor playfully. "Sometimes... it's things like this that almost makes me miss being on the other side of the law."

"Yeah yeah, say what ya want. Look hotshot!" He pointed with his claw hand. "They even built a statue in your honor."

"What?" Raynor broke from his straight focused stare to stare up at the wood-craft statue of himself striking a proud, arms-crossed pose. "Ah hell." he chuckled lightly to himself. "I guess a little respect ain't too bad."

"Damn straight. I almost broke my back several times tryin' to keep up with the hardware you boys keep breakin'!"

Dr. Hanson stood straight with a stiff back, daintily holding a tablet close as if it would grant much needed cover. "J-Jim! I didn't expect you to show up!"

"Howdy Doc, it's great to see you again."

"You t-too. Oh gosh, so sorry. I wasn't prepared for this." she sputtered with a blush. "By the way you look... fantastic. It's like you're several years younger from an estimated point of view."

"I'm tellin' ya! Excessive alcohol's always been doin' a number on ya good looks, cowboy!"

"Indeed it did." said Strommen as Hanson ran off to cooldown. He clasped Raynor's hand and gave a firm shake. "It's good to see you bright and healthy youngin'. Let the old people actually look their age."

"Well, nothin' a real good night's sleep can't fix." jested Raynor further. "But enough about my beauty rest. Swann and I came as soon as we heard what happened."

"A lot of you boys used to be part of our ragtag gang of misfits," added Swann. "We ain't gonna just let y'all die."

Strommen laughed with his neice. "Ah yes, Raynor! There is someone I'd like you to meet." He gestured to Nathaniel who waved his beer bottle with a crooked smile.

For several seconds, Raynor couldn't identify the man, but it soon clicked. "Austin? Is that you?"

"Yes, and I'm guessing you must be former Marshall Raynor!" he played along.

"Buddy!" They clasped each other's forearm in greeting, one muscular and the other wiry. "I always wondered where you ran off to. Were you with the refugees this whole time?"

"Well... only recently. I was around when you rescued us on Agria, but I never spoke up."

"Well lookie here." said Swann. "I finally get to meet The Magistrate of Mar Sara. Cowboy used to talk a lot about ya. Why'd ya run off again?"

"I just needed to clear my head after everything that bastard Mengsk did to us. I didn't mean to abandon you and Jim."

"No hard feelings, man." insisted Raynor. "I'm just glad to see you again."

"Damn straight, cowboy. If this guy's as good as you say he is, then we've got the whole gang back together."

"I suspect you two are here for more than just chit-chat." interjected Strommen.

"Of course Strommen. Austin, we'll catch up later for sure. For now, let's cut to the chase. I've brought together some men and supplies to help get folks back on their feet, and Swann'll help you get your hardware up to speed. We're here for volunteer 'development' and cleaning up. But long term protection? You're gonna want to talk to Valerian about that."

Tana exhaled. "That's going to be fun."

Raynor could only offer a sympathetic smile. "Since when was politics ever fun?"


A/N: It took me less than 5 days since the last chapter to write this one, and yet I could never feel satisfied with how it turned out. Admittedly, this chapter's kinda weird. The conflict and battle is resolved mid-way, then leads straight into the aftermath where's everyone's celebrating and doing a lot of talking. I was considering splitting the chapter into two, one where the battle ends completely, and the other being the aftermath. I ended up keeping this chapter in one pieces since the two halves would be too small.

Normally, I wouldn't mind writing long conversations, but the Protoss are in a hurry to reach Shakuras, so dragging the chapter for further dialogue where the protoss are present just feels awkward in my opinion. There's still room for so much more dialogue for the Terrans on Haven as they recover and talk about what to do next, and that'll happen at the same time as the Protoss warping to Shakuras as soon as they can. I also want to know if all this dialogue would actually be relevant to good story-telling, so if you have any particular opinions on that matter, feel free to leave a review about that.

I know the hints were obvious before, but this chapter formally confirms, or rather suggests, that Constance is psionic, so I can discuss the part where she restores Khalis' psionic potential. For those who may be skeptical of this blatant stretching of psionic capabilities... yes, Constance did heal a part her brain, which isn't much a stretch considering several factors. One of Kerrigan's first ghost training tests was to psychically destroy a tumor injected into a small kitten before it died. Nova herself demonstrated the ability to use psionic healing in another comic detailing her early life.

But on the bright side. This now officially marks the end of the Haven Arc or "Homefront" arc. Thank you for continuing to read this story at your own enjoyment!