James
Jim sat in his combat suit atop the short mesa, watching Saren's prone form twitch with every passing gust of wind, every hint of noise. Saren's gun, a silenced rifle, shifted from left to right as the turian scanned ceaselessly. Jim's own, much larger rifle was cradled in his lap, safety on, and he paid it little mind. Below the two of them was a massive expanse of hard mudflats, a common feature on Antiga Prime. The air was cool and dry, and Jim licked his lips as Saren twitched yet again while muttering to himself.
"You always this jumpy?" asked Jim, causing Saren to fall still as he listened. "Magistrate's gonna tell us when to expect the convoy. Nothing to worry about, man. You're tirin' yourself out. Take a break. Drink some water."
"It pays to be alert," said Saren stiffly, still remaining where he was. "I would not want to be caught unawares at a critical moment. We must be ready for anything. How can we be certain the Confederates are not aware of us?"
"Across the way, Sarah's on the other mesa," said Jim, pointing across the space between them, to the mesa that Kerrigan was occupying. "She'd know if somethin' was up, bein' psychic. Plus, the Magistrate's got the comms for this planet, and he don't miss a thing. We'd know if something was wrong. Way I see it, we ain't heard anything, so everything's going accordin' to plan. Convoy will be here in three."
Saren didn't reply, but he didn't move either. Turians must have strong eyes, he'ds been doin' that for half an hour.
Bored, Jim decided to contact Kerrigan.
"We doin' alright, darlin'?" Jim said into his suit. "Sittin' nice and quiet, everything on schedule?"
"Convoy will be here in two," said Kerrigan immediately, making Jim wonder if she could read his mind even from this distance. "I just saw a Vulture pilot scouting ahead. I'm guessing we'll have four or five to deal with. My lockdown round is prepped, and my sniper team is ready. How good is your aim feeling today?"
Jim stood and turned the safety off, walking next to Saren and standing with a scope to his eye.
"I'm feelin' pretty confident, darlin'," said Jim softly. "Let's do this."
Through his reticle, two Vultures coasted through the mudflats, their riders pressed against their bikes. When they stopped, both riders straightened, gave a cursory glance around them, and waited. The distant thrumming of an engine could be heard.
"Sloppy," he heard Saren mutter. "They're not expecting anything to happen. Do they not realize they are at war?"
Our definition of war might be a little different from yours, Saren. Antiga Prime ain't seen any conflict just yet. That'll change soon enough.
The enormous truck could be seen from quite a distance. It had been fitted with treads and painted a dull brown, all the better to help it traverse the mudflats without being seen or getting stuck. Another two Vultures flanked either side of it, keeping up with their relatively slow moving escort without any real difficulty. They glided easily over the mud, leaving no trace of their passage. Jim fixed his sights on the one closest to him, a figure in a mud-stained and hard worn jacket. That one's mine.
"Commander," said Kerrigan in a hushed tone, "target is in sight. Four Vultures, passing directly beneath us. Preparing to intercept."
"Roger that, Lieutenant," said the Magistrate, his voice betraying a slight hint of exhaustion as he spoke. Poor bastard. That Confederate intel we snagged at Halcyon has really been keeping him up at night. "You are free to engage." Jim's trigger finger started to itch.
A humming sound echoed through the air, and Jim refixed his sights to see the two scouting Vultures surging forward in a sudden flurry of activity, keeping ahead of the convoy.
"Saren, think you can take out those two scouts?" asked Jim.
"I was born to do it," said Saren, shifting a little on his belly.
"Teams," said Kerrigan, a slight hint of tension creeping into her voice, "when I fire the lockdown round, you'll see and hear it. Jim, Saren, you got your targets picked out?"
"Saren's got the scouts," said Jim, now looking at his target again. "I got the guy on the left of the truck. Just say the word."
The scouts were nearly directly beneath the mesas now, and the truck wasn't far off either. They weren't spaced as closely together as Jim would have liked, but they still seemed completely unaware of their presence. Jim waited for Sarah's mark.
With a hum and a crackle, Kerrigan's lockdown round made quite a bit of noise when it fired. Jim's reticle had been fixed on his target, compensating slightly for distance. He barely registered the sharp crack as his rifle went off. With a shudder and a distant cry, his target fell off his Vulture, which catapulted forward, out of control. The still air filled briefly with screams and the sounds of gunshots, but stopped as suddenly as it had started.
Jim exhaled.
"Commander," said Sarah, sounding slightly out of breath, "truck is locked down. The Vultures have been neutralized. No sign of movement from the target. Permission to get down there?"
"Do it," said the Magistrate as Jim traced where the foremost scouts had been and found both riders lying in the dirt with several round red holes in their chests. Jesus, Saren. "Proceed with caution. Do NOT harm the driver."
"See ya in a bit," said Jim, saluting Saren before putting down his sniper rifle and grabbing his C14. He dropped from the mesa with nary a sound before landing in the dry mud beneath. Kerrigan was descending as well, albeit a bit more gracefully than Jim's solid drop. They gave each other a brief nod when they met, traversing the now debris and corpse-strewn area together.
The huge truck was crackling faintly with electricity, the lockdown still in effect. Kerrigan rushed forward, rifle at her shoulder. She knocked twice on the driver's door with one hand before backing up and pointedly keeping her gun trained on the seat. A short woman wearing a baseball cap dropped from the truck, hands up. Jim kept his gun lowered, held up a hand in peace.
"Hey, sorry about all this, but we need you and your truck. We're with-"
"Sons of Korhal," she said, her tone a little strained but less scared than Jim had expected. "I was told you might have a go at me – apparently all of our aerial supply routes have been blockaded. Confederacy thought this would be a little more discreet." She jerked a thumb back at the huge truck, still locked down.
"We've got three fleets and a planet to take," said Kerrigan. "We're watching everything the Confederacy does. Your names Darla Perkins. You were en route to the main colony. And your truck is carrying… huh."
"Something good, darlin'?" asked Jim, feeling awfully sorry for what Darla would be forced to do shortly.
"Firing mechanism for a groundside ion cannon," said Kerrigan. "I want to take a look. Open the back, Darla. Now."
Darla kept her hands up and walked in as steady a pace she could manage to the back of the truck. With a grunt, she wrested the back door from its place and revealed the contents. To Jim, it was just a mish mash of wires and metal, but Kerrigan's expression hardened when she saw it.
"Commander," she said, putting a hand to her ear and holding the headpiece steady, "might want to ask your friends about new Confederacy secure channels. They're building an ion cannon down here. Check Jim's feed. We got a firing mechanism here."
Jim made sure to keep his eyes fixed on the machinery, so the Magistrate would get a good long look. There was a short pause.
"Damn," said the Magistrate finally. "The fact that this little fact slipped through is… not good. Still, I think we can work this to our advantage. How finished is the cannon?"
Kerrigan looked briefly at Darla, who had lowered one of her hands briefly to scratch her nose.
"They just need the mechanism," Kerrigan said after a moment's concentration, making Jim wonder how many ghosts like her were out there. "It was the only piece of equipment they could not build onsite at the main colony. If that thing gets finished…"
"Whoever controls it will control the planet," said the Magistrate smoothly. "This will work out perfectly."
"Guessin' you're a telepath," said Darla grimly as Kerrigan looked to her. "No need to torture me and make me spill my guts then. So, uh…"
"We ain't here to kill ya," said Jim. "But... we had to take out your escort. Sorry about that. We need you to do us a favor." He glanced at Kerrigan. "Miss Perkins here ain't resoc or anything?"
"She isn't even military," said Kerrigan before Darla could open her mouth. "She's lived here all her life, driving for the colony. The Confederacy picked her because they knew she could make the run without too much difficulty."
"…damn, picking through my brain like that," muttered Darla. "Ain't natural. So, you're not executing me, then?"
"We need you to drive me into the colony," said Kerrigan. "I'll be cloaked, in the passenger's seat. I've got an important visit to make up there, in the command center."
Darla looked around her, her arms now lowered. "That'd be quite ambitious, ma'am, considering they'll be asking questions about what happened to my escort."
"We've got some Confederate painted Vultures on standby," said Kerrigan. "We need you to stay cool. If you blow our cover, it'll turn a swift, mostly bloodless revolution into a slaughter. Guess who'll be the first to go?"
Damn. Sarah can be cold when she has to be.
Darla took a deep breath, let out a low whistle. "I'm, uh, just a trucker for a colonist, ma'am. And you just killed four good men around me. If I act a little nervous…"
"Hey," said Jim, "you ain't gotta be perfect. I promise, nothing will happen to you if you help us. If it helps, focus on the fact that we're here to liberate, not conquer. You've lived here all your life, Darla. Are you happy with the way the Confederacy has treated your planet?"
Darla shrugged. "They usually don't pay much attention. You people are the ones shooting up the place and establishing blockades. But hell, if you claim you're here to make things better, I ain't in a position to argue. Best get them Vultures down here quick, I'm on a schedule."
Matt Horner's dropship arrived in a mighty speedy fashion, lowering to the ground and letting several Vultures speed out. Jim's waited, still unmanned. It took him all of thirty seconds to exit his suit, shout a most likely unheard compliment at Horner's flying skills, and put on his helmet. I was just on TV. Probably best if I didn't show my face around the colony.
"Dusting off," said Horner after Jim exited, the four Vultures now all side by side, hovering over the mud. "Picking up the sniper teams and then waiting for the fireworks. You sure the colonists are ready for this?"
"They're polishin' their guns and chompin' at the bit," said Jim. "Antiga Prime is ready."
"If you say so," said Horner, the dropship lifting. "Good luck!"
The lockdown round had finally finished screwing with the truck's systems, letting Darla resume her travels. Kerrigan sat in the passenger's seat, primed to activate her cloak at the slightest disturbance. The three boys Jim would be riding with were all Sons of Korhal lifers – two of them were even former residents of Korhal itself. I feel for you guys. At least the Confederacy's gonna pay for that today.
At Darla's shouted instructions over the roar of her truck's engine, Jim and his cronies put two men in front to lazily scout while Jim and the sole remaining SoK goon stayed on either side of the truck while Sarah leaned out the shotgun window and let her red hair trail behind her with the wind. May as well try to relax, eh darlin'? You've got a hard job in front of you.
Jim drove up alongside the window, grabbing Kerrigan's attention.
"Is our driver on the level?" asked Jim, trying to be heard over the roar of the truck's engines. "What's she thinkin'?"
"She'll cooperate," said Kerrigan. "I've got this handled, Jim. Just try to keep a low profile until I give the signal."
Jim fell back after that, trying to take the opportunity to relish the feel of having a bike under him again. It made him feel a little better, though what he really wanted to do was make use of all that open road without having to stay next to Darla's damn truck.
In the distance, a large mesa protruded from the earth. Jim could see the silhouettes of bunkers and prefab colony structures. Alright. Target's in sight.
Jim remembered Saren taking a long look at the colony from orbit.
"Elevated location," he had said finally. "There's only one entrance from the ground. And this is a civilian settlement?" Jim had said it was, and Saren had mightily approved of its choice of location. Something about it being rare to see a modern settlement being built with defending itself in mind. I have a feeling the Koprulu Sector is a bit more hellish than these Council aliens are used to.
"Getting close," said Sarah over the radio, having pulled herself in, closed the window, and cloaked. "Boys, I'm going to need you all to be on your best behavior until I give the signal. We're not going to get a second shot at this. Darla, try not to get too nervous, and do not give us away. I'm pretty good with knives."
Jim didn't hear Darla's response and was pretty sure he didn't want to.
On the nearest corner of the mesa as they approached, a siege tank swiveled its gun to face the incoming traffic. Two missile turrets flanked it on either side, their heads endlessly rotating in search of airborne hostiles. The flats had given way to a short length of road, and Jim soon found himself under the shadow of Antiga Prime's main colony.
On either side of the road were two bunkers. Guns protruded from every side, the marines inside obviously alert. The Vultures all piled up next to the truck as it stopped at this checkpoint. Jim held his breath as a woman in a Confederate officer's uniform strode with purpose to the driver's window, a hand resting on the butt of the pistol creeping out of her holster.
"You're late, Perkins," she said, tone icy. "I was told you were the best bet for making sure this shipment got here on time. Middle of nowhere giving you trouble?"
"No ma'am," said Perkins back, tone betraying a slight hint of fear. Well, at least that's a bit justified. This woman's scary. "They had me taking a few detours I otherwise wouldn't have made. Added about twenty minutes to the trip. Seemed to work, though – no sign of the Sons."
"Good. Those bastards and their alien friends have been intercepting every dropship we've been sending here for the last three days," said the officer. "Clearly they don't have the ground routes covered yet. I'll send word to the command center to start sending more trucks – you'll have your hands full, Perkins. Good work. Head on through."
Jim, peering over his Vulture, saw Darla tip her hat before moving on through. He followed suit, avoiding eye contact with everyone and everything as they climbed up the reinforced concrete ramp up to the colony proper. I know it's stupid, with the helmet on, but I can't help it. One wrong move and we're done.
The streets of the colony were paved with concrete and quite wide, to better allow large vehicles to move through. Every corner was a marine in Confederate colors, gun at his side, his eyes on the citizens. The streets were silent, people staring in sullen silence at the truck and the Vultures as they went by. Jim could see dried blood on parts of the sidewalk as he went past. You can tell there was just a riot. Even if we weren't here, this place would go up in flames sooner or later. For some reason, that did not comfort him.
The truck made a few turns before stopping in front of a large spherical building adorned with several radar dishes – the command center. Jim looked away as the passenger side door to the truck opened without anyone there, hoping that no one else bore it any mind.
"Hey. Branders! Branders, that you?"
A Confederate firebat was yelling at Jim, crossing from his post to over where Jim sat.
"No, man," said Jim, hoping the soldier would piss off. "Just an FNG from Tyrador. Corporal Findlay."
"Oh," said the firebat. His visor was up, revealing a splotchy face with a shaved head and bulging red cheeks. "Sorry. Thought you was someone else. You got a bad posting, boy. Antiga Prime is a damn powder keg."
"Yep," said Jim, keeping his tone clipped and short. Unfortunately, the firebat was a talker.
"Had a riot here not a week ago," he said, obviously settling down for a nice long spiel. "Streets was lit up. I was on duty, and this suit don't come with a stun function, if you know what I mean. Sarge, he tells me to "suppress" the crowd. Smelled awful."
Underneath his helmet, Jim's face reddened at this. His fingers flexed and unflexed.
"Got the job done," said the firebat cheerfully, grinning. "Sarge said I can get far for that kind of performance. No hesitation, just whoosh! Everyone on the street dispersed pretty quick after that."
Jim angled his head over to where his career Sons of Korhal friends were sitting on their bikes. They were watching the firebat with great interest. Darla, who had opened the back of the truck in preparation for moving the ion cannon parts, was also listening in, her face pale.
"Probably didn't win you any friends in this colony," said Jim carefully. "People don't take kindly to having firebats runnin' loose, burnin' their friends and family."
The firebat snorted. "They was riotin', practically proclaiming their intent to go rebel. We went easy on them."
Jim was about to respond when the radio crackled with activity. There were several muted gunshots and a soft moan.
"The officer's taken care of," said Kerrigan, voice cool. "The Antigans are, well, quite done with the Confederacy. I'll let the good captain tell the news."
"Sons of Korhal just waxed the Confederate jackboot," blared a voice from the command center, his voice reaching every loudspeaker in the colony. "It's Liberty Day, boys! Go loud! But watch the Vultures, those are our guys!"
As the firebat gawped, Jim cleared his revolver from his holster and pointed it square at the stunned soldier's face. He pulled the trigger once and watched the blood spatter in the back of his helmet. Yells and hooting could be heard all over the colony, and gunshots rang through the air.
Jim didn't miss a beat, tearing off in his Vulture down the street, the grenade launchers prepped. He kept his head down as Antiga Prime erupted into chaos around him, bullets whistling over his head as he blazed by.
Jim found a cluster of Confederate marines holed up behind an overturned car as he rounded the corner. Jim hammered the triggers for his grenade launchers three times, the concussive grenades punching holes in their suits before exploding, painting the inside of the armor a dull crimson.
"Commander, the target has been neutralized," said Kerrigan, only slightly audible above the din. "The colony is rebelling. We need to move on to the next stage."
"Got it. Nice work, Lieutenant," said the Magistrate. "Raynor, how's it look out there?"
Jim sped by several Antigan marines deliberately treading on the fallen forms of their Confederate counterparts. Two of them opened their visors and spat on the bodies as they went by.
"It's lookin' alright," said Jim. "Colonists obviously weren't too happy with the Confederacy already."
There was a deafening boom in the distance, followed by a series of cheers. The captain, whatever his name was, spoke again over the loudspeakers.
"Nice work on the siege tank! Drive these fuckers out! Sons of Korhal will be makin' a landing shortly!"
Jim made a few passes on the streets, but saw no Confederate soldiers still standing. He saw the officer lady from earlier being marched past with her hands bound. She shot Jim a confused look that quickly turned venomous when Jim offered a mock salute. He drove back to the ramp and took a look down it. The two manned bunkers had been turned into smoking, shredded pieces of twisted steel and concrete. Jim took a deep breath through his nostrils, letting his body fill with the scent of a swift victory. Didn't even have to do much. All it takes for folks to free themselves… is the belief that it's possible. He thought back to the firebat near the command center, the casual way he had talked about his heavy handed riot control. Good riddance.
A pair of dropships descended from high above, landing close to his destination. Magistrate, probably. Maybe Mengsk. Plenty of preparations to make. Guess it's time to head back and figure out what's going on next.
Jim drifted through the streets on his Vulture, taking in the sights of revolution: a Sons of Korhal flag being raised, a group of angry looking men and women parading the helmets of Confederate marines and firebats on sticks, several teenagers kicking the fallen body of a Confederate soldier. After what these folk experienced, it ain't that surprising.
What did surprise Jim, however, was what he saw when got to the command center. Two smirking Antigan marines stood over the body of a young woman, a baseball cap still sitting skewed on her head.
Jim stopped the Vulture and got off, ripping off his helmet as he ran to her. Darla Perkins lay dead on the ground, a think trickle of fluid draining from a small hole in her head.
"Sympathizers," growled one of the marines. "Bitch drove the truck up here. Antigan born, and she drove the truck."
Jim looked up from the body, sudden emotion contorting his face. "You-"
"Jim!" It was Kerrigan's voice, but Jim didn't turn around. "Jim! Stand down!"
"You killed her," he said to the marines in a low tone. Despite being armored and carrying a weapon each, they backed up when they saw the fire in his eyes. "She let us IN, you bastards! This revolution wouldn't have been possible if she hadn't cooperated, and you-"
A strong hand turned Jim away from the marines. Sarah Kerrigan stood before him, flecks of blood covering her front.
"It's not going to help, Jim," she said. "It's too late for her, and we've still got a lot to do."
Jim's eyes narrowed. "You think I'm just gonna let this go?" He pointed back at the two marines, who each raised a hand defensively. "I didn't sign up just to watch more innocents die! If the Sons are going to put up with shit like this, then why did I even get up this morning?"
Sarah looked up at Jim, brow creasing slightly. "It's not okay, Jim, we're never going to condone or order this kind of thing, but revolutions are always a bit… messy. We didn't set any innocents on fire, Jim."
Jim shook his head angrily. "Get out of my mind, damn it. Don't try to manipulate me. This ain't right, Sarah."
"Then what are you going to do?" Kerrigan asked, stepping away from Jim and crossing her arms. "What's going to make this right, Jim? Do you have some way to bring Darla back? Maybe you want to kill these two marines, balance it out? They just joined our cause, Jim. Probably thought killing Darla would do us a favor."
Jim looked back to the marines, who had backed up against the wall of a nearby building, clearly uncertain about what was going to happen to them.
Jim glowered at them. "Get gone. Now." They obeyed.
He looked back to Sarah, shrugged helplessly. "Let's just get this done. But I ain't forgettin' this, Kerrigan, and neither should you."
"People get hurt in war, Jim," was all she said back.
People were dragging body bags through the halls of the command center. One of the men doing so snapped a salute as the two of them approached, dropping the bag with a thud.
"Jim Raynor! Saw you on that little broadcast! Captain Farnham, head of this colony's security." The captain extended his hand to Jim, who just stared at him.
"He's not really in a good place, Captain," said Kerrigan, stepping between them. "The driver who brought us in here, two of your marines just killed her. Thought she was a sympathizer."
"I see," the captain nodded stiffly. "Point them out to me when you get a chance, I'll deal with them as appropriate. Some people need reminding that there is a difference between enthusiasm and extremism. At least we sweeped the streets clean of Confederate scum."
"I'm sure Darla Perkins would have been thankful," said Jim dryly, unblinking,. "Just… deal with those guys appropriately. None of us signed up to gun down civilians."
"Right," said the captain. "As you say. Your commanders are waiting in the intelligence center – even brought a few of those aliens with them. Wish I had a chance to speak with them, but..." he picked up the body again. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Raynor. I'll keep the colony secure while you plot out the next move."
Right. Not exactly the plotting type, myself. He kept thinking back to that thin trickle of blood. I promised she'd be safe if she did what we asked. I should have stuck by her…
Mengsk, Victus, and the Magistrate were waiting for them, standing at a round command table that had been recently sprayed with blood. Jim thought he could make out just where Kerrigan had executed the head Confederate officer. No wonder she was covered in blood. Looks like she made quite a mess. Several turian marines and asari commandos watched them enter, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Sons of Korhal's own troops. Despite his own unabated anger regarding Perkins, Jim couldn't help but feel slightly impressed at the swift integration of the Council forces.
"Raynor," said Mengsk, nodding. "Lieutenant. It is good to see you are both still intact. I have brought a small detachment of Council forces to, well, parade around this colony. The sooner the Koprulu Sector becomes used to their presence, the easier it will be to integrate once the Confederacy falls. It seems we arrived at an apt time. The colony defected quickly."
"They just needed one bullet," said Kerrigan, gesturing at the blood on the table. "Once the commander was shot in the very heart of the colony, the colonists knew that the Confederacy, for all of its trappings, was still composed of mortal men. It's easy to forget that."
"Naked force," said the Magistrate, his face gray from lack of sleep. "It is crude, unpleasant, and effective. It's amazing how quickly people recall how fragile everything is." The Magistrate's eyes flicked to the aliens when he said this. Jim wasn't sure why.
"At any rate, the first stage of the operation was a success," said Mengsk. "There's no sign of Alpha Squadron, despite our having surrounded the planet with two alien fleets. But I'm guessing our time is running out."
Jim felt a surge of interest as he remembered what the real reason for taking the colony had been. "It's time to get ahold of ol' Dukey."
Mengsk smiled slightly at this, looking to Raynor. "Indeed. He's defended Tarsonis in over thirty major battles. If anyone knows how to break through that planet's lines, it would be him." He turned and tapped a key on a less bloodstained part of the table. A display of Antiga Prime came up.
"There are at least two other major Confederate holdings on the planet," said Mengsk. "The camp to the southwest holds the bulk of local Confederate ground forces. Fortunately, we cannot expect them to launch an attack on this position without a significant air presence – which they lack."
"We hold the colony now," said Victus bluntly. "You can put a face on those "alien" fleets. I'd be happy to order my ships to wipe out what's left of the Confederate forces."
"Do it," said Mengsk. "We cannot afford any major interference for the next stage – which the Magistrate has just changed. Harper?"
Harper wiped sweat from his forehead. "In terms of space combat, Council forces and Alpha Squadron should be at an impasse. Terran ships lack the barriers that the Council ships possess, but their laser batteries ignore Council barriers. Both sides would tear each other to ribbons relatively quickly, assuming Victus and the Matriarch could move their fleets so that they would not be outranged by the batteries-"
"Count on it," said Victus. "I did not come all the way out here to be defeated, Commander. Still, I would prefer if we could avoid a straight fight against Confederate forces wherever possible – repairing our ships this far from home is at best, an arduous affair."
"We've got an ion cannon that's close to completion," said the Magistrate. "That gives us a significant home field advantage. The question is whether we can maneuver Alpha Squadron so we can get a clear shot on the Norad II. The cannon could help us neutralize Alpha Squadron's ships-"
"At the risk of this colony," said Mengsk. "The Confederacy will happily bombard this place from orbit to take out the cannon. We need to make sure that doesn't happen."
"Why? You more worried about the Antigans or losing the tactical advantage?" Jim asked, watching Mengsk carefully for the reaction. All he got was raised eyebrows.
"Is there a problem, Captain Raynor?" replied Mengsk. "I was considering both, to be honest, though I will confess that bringing Edmund Duke down is the greater of the two concerns in my eyes. Has something happened?"
"Just witnessin' firsthand what revolution looks like sometimes," said Jim, not backing down as everyone in their little assembly fixed their eyes on him. "Little people getting caught in the crosshairs. Seems to me that the ion cannon is inviting more of those kinds of situations."
"He's fine, Arcturus," said Kerrigan. "Our driver was shot dead by overzealous Antigans. Jim, these people seem quite willing to oppose the Confederacy. They're going to jump at the opportunity to knock some Confederate battlecruisers out of the sky with the cannon."
"Right," said Jim, not really feeling any better. "Just… let's try to keep the damage control down. Stick to soldiers just shooting soldiers."
"It's never that simple, Raynor," said the Magistrate. "I applaud your moral fiber, but revolutions are messy. When we take Tarsonis, do you think that every man, woman, and child down there that is unassociated with the Confederacy or the Old Families is going to be safe? We cannot control every situation down to the finest detail. Believe me, our ops so far have gone far more smoothly than they have had any right to."
"You have unrealistic expectations, Raynor," said Victus, his tone hard. "To the turians, every target is a military one. Were it up to me, I would have brought this planet to heel by immediately bombing all Confederacy occupied territories until it brought about unconditional surrender. In some ways, the direct approach saves more lives. I suggest discarding whatever scruples you have until the cleanup – that is when you will be most able to afford them."
"Not sure I'm gonna do that, General," said Jim, a little taken aback. "But I get your point. Sorry, let's get this show on the road. I'll probably feel better about this once Duke's head is on a stick."
The Magistrate tapped a few buttons on the table. Small triangles appeared on the readout, symbolizing ships. Two were far away from the planet and each other, while the third, the one with the fewest ships, hovered directly over the Antigan settlement.
"Military travel from Halcyon typically arrives here," said the Magistrate, pointing a gloved finger to a space between the two most distant fleets. "The calculations are all sorted out, no risk of collision with other ships or any kind of debris. The turian and asari fleets will hit them from above and below, relative to the planet, while the Korhal fleet, such as it is, will engage them from the planet's orbit."
"Battlecruisers can take a beating," said Kerrigan. "How much damage do you think you can do? And how are we going to deal with cloaked Wraiths?"
"The Wraiths are a problem," admitted the Magistrate. "We'll have to make what use of the comsat station here in the colony. Our goal is to bring Alpha Squadron low and capture Duke quickly."
"The initial barrage should cause an immense amount of damage," said Victus. "The Destiny Ascension, for all its faults, proved that the main guns of our dreadnought can quickly render your cruisers nonfunctional. The element of surprise is a powerful one, and your General Duke has not inspired much confidence in regards to tactical acumen and flexibility."
"He ain't ours," said Jim. "Pretty sure he's just a shaved ape. But yeah, I'll agree with you on that. You got orders for those of us stayin' groundside?"
"Maintain the security of the colony," said Mengsk, "and be ready for pickup and assault. After the initial barrage, the other two fleets will make a quick FTL jump out of range while my own fleet continues to engage. After this goes predictably badly for us, we shall stage our own retreat and leave the rest to the ion cannon as Alpha Squadron begins pursuit. Once the Norad II is disabled, you are to join a strike force that will be assaulting the ship directly. Press to the bridge, and take Duke. Do NOT execute him. He has information we can use."
"If you say so," said Jim. "But just say the word, and I'll take care of him."
Mengsk and Victus took their leave then, leaving the Magistrate. He shot Jim a tired glance when the others left, the light of the planet's display shining in his eyes.
"I need you two to introduce these fine asari and turians to the colony," said the Magistrate, gesturing to the expressionless alien soldiers that had watched the proceedings without a hint of interest or recognition. "Also, notify everyone of the orbital bombardment. Make sure they know our alien friends are just eliminating military targets. Wish me luck. I'll be with the Korhal fleet, helping direct the few Wraiths we have."
"Just where did you learn all this shit, Commander?" asked Jim. Something I've been meaning to get to the bottom of for a while. "It's one thing to have a military background, plenty of folks back on Mar Sara had that. But you've given the Sons access to military channels, intel, and they're puttin' you in charge of battle plans. You the second son of some Old Family bureaucrat?"
The Magistrate chuckled at that, bringing a bit of life back to his gray face. "Just… just an old spec ops, Raynor. Nothing quite so interesting. I was the oldest in my little band of soldiers, so I was the first to retire. I'm still quite close with some of them. You saw one on a screen back on Mar Sara, Oleg Petrohvsky."
"I remember," said Jim, casting a sideways glance at Sarah. "I bet you could tell me all his history, darlin'."
"Some of it," said Sarah, giving a small smile. "He's had some training. I can see just enough to know that his team was something to be feared back in the Guild Wars."
"Alright," said Jim, nodding. "I'll take your word for it. We ought to sit down and have a drink some time, Commander. Swap some war stories."
"Maybe," said the Magistrate, raising a hand and moving backwards. "I have a ship to catch, however. Perhaps, once the battle is over. Best of luck, Captain, Lieutenant."
Jim and Sarah looked to the many aliens they had been left with.
"Alright then," said Jim. "Let's bring ya'll out and see if we can't make these colonists love you."
Jim left the command center trailed by twenty odd turians and asari, some of whom displayed slight hints of nervousness as they marched into the streets of the terran colony. Kerrigan, meanwhile, had taken control of the colony's loudspeakers and announced the procession of the aliens.
"They are people, they are allies," said Kerrigan. "They are here to topple the Confederacy for the betterment of the terran race. In ten minutes, they will also be beginning orbital bombardment against the remaining Confederate military centers on the planet. I want everyone possible to take a good long look at the faces of these aliens. Ask them questions, get to know them. They can understand you, and they are here to help."
Jim, for his part, wished some of these aliens hadn't introduced to the masses of humanity the way they were. Bodies were still being dragged off the streets as they came through, the signs of recent carnage still all too evident. Nevertheless, he was pleased to see Antigan marines salute the aliens as they went by, to see a group of teenagers following the asari and asking all kinds of questions, and to hear raucous cheering as they emerged in the middle of the main plaza.
See? Not too scary. Jim looked back at the alien soldiers. Okay, the turians are a little scary. The asari make up for it, though.
The orbital bombardment commenced while they were still in the square. People turned and pointed as the skies lit up, and sounds like distant thunder echoed through the still air. The barrage continued for several minutes, and when Jim left the plaza to get a better look from the edge of the city, the horizon had turned into a dull orange. Huh. I hope they didn't suffer. Several other colonists had gathered at the edge of the mesa as well, muttering about "alien interference."
"Go to the main plaza," said Jim. "We've got aliens there, shakin' hands with people. They ain't here to conquer. I don't know about you, but I'm quite happy about not havin' to try and take down a camp of angry Confederates."
Jim returned to the asari and turians and was quite pleased to see Horner and Saren had shown up, covered in dust and shaking hands with Antigans. He waved them down.
"Op was a success, obviously," said Jim. "Glad you two could make it. Now we just need Duke to show up."
"They kicked the Confederacy out," said Horner, admiration creeping into his tone. "We barely had to help them! That'll teach those bastards about stepping all over the innocent."
"Right," said Jim, "because the Antigans are all about not harmin' the innocent."
"Uh, alright," said Horner. "Something I don't know about, Captain?"
"There were some civilian casualties that could have been avoided," said Jim. "That's all I'm going to say. Saren, you get invited along to raidin' the Norad II?"
"Duke's ship? Yes," said Saren. "Apparently my performance on that science vessel did not go unappreciated. Taking an entire vessel should be… exhilarating."
"Captain Raynor, report to the command center," said Kerrigan over the loudspeakers. "The alien meet and greet can take care of itself, and we've got preparations to make."
"See ya," said Jim, giving a brief salute to his comrades in arms before rushing back to the command center. Kerrigan was waiting for him at the entrance, ushering him in.
"Alpha Squadron's due to arrive in the next twenty hours or so," said Kerrigan. "Both Mengsk and Harper are sure of it. They can't leave any planet under "alien" control for too long. We've got the firing mechanism in place – the ion cannon's ready."
"Good," said Jim. "Out of curiosity, since I ain't seen it, where is the ion cannon?"
"Northwest corner of the mesa, hidden under a huge steel blast door," said Sarah, motioning Jim to follow. "The Confederacy was pretty keen to keep it hidden from us. It almost worked. Victus reports total destruction of the Confederate camps on the planet."
"Yeah," said Jim, thinking of the orange glow. "I kinda figured that."
"So now we wait," said Kerrigan, reaching the command center's heart and sitting in a chair, a leg on one of the armrests. "You looking forward to seeing Duke again?"
"Assumin' this works?" asked Jim. "Yeah. Yeah, I am."
The hours crept by. The Antigan colony quickly returned to a sense of normalcy, though the threat of imminent attack left the air heavy with anxiety. Captain Farnham checked in, reporting that the structural damage caused by the brief revolution had been repaired, and that the colony had begun preparations for producing materiel for the Sons.
"A few adjustments and we'll have the capabilities for putting out siege tanks," said Farnham. "I'm sure the Sons will have plenty of use for those, right?"
Saren arrived at the command center as well, though Matt had to wait in his dropship "to be ready for Alpha Squadron." Can't be fun, but we're gonna need him to get us up to the Norad II at a moment's notice. Saren gave a perfunctory greeting to Jim before spending an hour rechecking his barriers, weapon, and armor. Professional. Jim decided to spend his own time trying to do something productive and found Horner's dropship and put his armor back on.
"You alright back here, Matt?" asked Jim, causing Matt to turn to face him from the pilot's seat, still clad in his flight gear.
"Anxious and bored at the same time, Captain," he said. "On the one hand, I'll be flying to one of the largest, best equipped ships in the Sector at… well, any time. On the other hand, there's nothing to do except wait."
"Just hold on," said Jim, grinning as he flexed his fingers inside the suit, watching the powered gloves matching his movements. "Everything's gonna be alright." No need to panic the pilot before he makes what could be the most dangerous flight of his life.
Jim returned to the command center. Sarah was checking her weapons and checking in with the captain while Saren sat in a chair with his eyes shut, apparently intent on his headset.
Jim tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, man. Got some books on tape or somethin'?"
Saren shook his head, taking off the headset. "Listening in on Third Fleet's preparations for the conflict. I find it therapeutic to hear my people's voices, and know that they're ready for battle."
"Really? Can I listen in for a second?" Jim extended a hand. Saren looked hesitant for a moment, and then gave Jim the headset. It looked tiny in Jim's armored hand, and he had to ask Saren to help lift it to his ear without breaking it. It wouldn't fit Jim's head (and Jim felt stupid afterward for trying) but Saren did manage to put one speaker against his ear.
"Justice reporting, barriers at full, we are fully loaded and scanning for targets."
"Ground scans at Confederate wreckage show no signs of life. Safe to estimate 100% enemy casualties at designated bombardment zones. Continuing sector sweep."
"Opposing force will have access to full spectrum cloaking and will likely close distance to one of our fleets. All targeting systems will be ineffectual. Advise."
The chatter went on, Jim's ear filling with the businesslike tones of turian sailors. Saren lowered the headset and Jim shook his head in disbelief. "That shit's relaxin' to you?"
"They're prepared," said Saren simply. "After my time on Mar Sara, I'll take all the time I can to spend with my people."
"Yeah," said Jim, thinking back to folks on Mar Sara that he wouldn't be seeing again thanks to the zerg. Maybe Buck, someday. Jenny's probably gonna be sent on to the Hyperion, hope she survives. Allen, though... Dammit.
Jim started as alarms blared and red lights flashed in the command center. Sarah had leapt from the table where she was working on her gun and lunged toward the planetary display. Small red circles flared between the asari and turian fleets, and Jim was dismayed to see that more kept leaping in even as the initial shock wore off. Aw, hell. Tarsonis must have given them reinforcements.
"Attention Antiga Prime," Sarah was saying into a microphone. Jim could hear her voice faintly echoing back from outside the command center. "Alpha Squadron is here, repeat, General Duke is here to play. All civilians are to remain indoors and we need that ion cannon prepped and ready. All militia members, just stay ready. If the fighting gets close, they might drop some pods. You just booted these guys out, I'm sure you don't want them back." She leaned back from the microphone with a hiss, looking back to Jim with sweat dripping from her forehead. "They brought more ships than I expected, Jim."
"Yeah," said Jim, head turning from the display to Saren, whose eyes were open and staring fiercely into empty space as he listened to his people. "Is there any kind of channel we can listen in on, darlin'?"
"204.7," said Sarah, "you can patch in on your suit. I know I am. They're going to need comsat."
Jim, still watching the display, winked his way through the suit's several prompts until he got to that frequency. He didn't like what he was hearing.
"Three science vessels?" the Magistrate was saying incredulously. "Dammit. Makes sense. They're blunting the dreadnoughts with those defensive matrices. Victus, Benezia, focus on those large unarmed vessels and ignore targets with unusual energy signatures. Those matrices will not be broken easily. Kerrigan, we need comsat at these coordinates; they're gunning for the asari."
Kerrigan nodded to herself and yelled to an aide to get a comsat sweep going. The colonist was commendably quick, making Jim wonder if she was ex-military herself. Huh. Still considerin' myself ex-military. Jim looked down at the bottom of the helmet portion of the suit. Probably not all that accurate anymore. How'd I get back into this?
"Benezia reporting good effect on those Wraith attack wings," said the Magistrate. "But that's not going to last too long, they're backing up and these scans don't last forever. Good damage on their ships. They- they're targeting Hyperion. Goddamn it! Kerrigan, is that ion cannon ready? They're pressing for the planet – I think they're gunning for Mengsk!"
Great. Kerrigan put a hand on her headset. "I need that ion cannon prepped! They're going for it!"
In his seat, Saren cursed. Jim quickly found out why.
"Dammit… about a third of the turian fleet just went dead – localized EMP at their location. Science vessels – they look so innocuous on paper. Their electronics aren't completely fried, but they're drifting dead until something's done. Asari fleet's backing up. Time to spring that trap."
Shit. Either they put someone smarter than Duke in charge, or maybe a shaved ape can learn new tricks.
"Repositioning Hyperion," said the Magistrate. Jim strained to see where on the readout they'd be, but it had all become enormously cluttered from the battle. "Alright, we're feigning - well, perhaps not entirely feigning - a full retreat. Comsat at these coordinates, Wraith presence is extensive. We need to take Duke down ASAP."
"Really hopin' they don't know about the ion cannon," said Jim as Kerrigan had the tech run comsat again. "Failin' that, that Antiga Prime's under Sons control."
The blips on the readout that were asari faded away as they jumped. The turians, however, were apparently unwilling to leave their disabled comrades. Understandable.
"Victus, they're backing out of your range, you either need to shift to a better position or get out of there!" yelled the Magistrate. "What? No, General, you can't-"
The Magistrate was cut off in a haze of static, and the turian blips vanished. Saren swore, leaping to his feet.
"They just performed a short range jump into the middle of the Confederate fleet," he said. "We need this over, now."
"Commander," said Jim, "Saren's getting agitated, and I'm kinda with him. Those bastards in range of the ion cannon?"
"Negative!" said the Magistrate, now sounding enraged. "Feel free to tell Saren that his people don't know when to fucking retreat! Victus has taken advantage of their ships' lack of maneuverability and gotten some good hits in, but those Wraiths are not letting up, and we can't recall the asari. We're going in, and I'm ordering all assault teams to hit Norad II. Comsat at the clusterfuck! You feeling up for a suicide mission, Raynor?"
"Saddle up!" said Jim, motioning to Saren and Kerrigan. "Let's end this! Horner's waitin'." Heart racing in his chest, Jim's feet thudded first into the command center's steel floors, and then the concrete of the colony. Kerrigan first kept pace with Jim, and then sped faster than him – a feat, considering he was in his suit – and a mixed group of asari and turians were following behind. Matt Horner waved them into his dropship, which was already active and creating quite the updraft. He was practically jumping up and down in excitement, an obvious sheen of sweat visible beneath visor of his pilot's helmet.
"It's time!" he kept saying, over and over. "It's time! It's time!"
Jim and the others strapped in, the asari looking especially small next to Jim's enormous frame.
"Got a mixed unit, huh?" he said to Sarah, who had seated herself next to him. "You, me, and Horner; the only terrans. You asari kick as much ass as Kerrigan says?"
The three asari, clad in black commando uniforms, looked at each other. "You ever seen biotics in action, kid?"
"Kid?" Jim laughed. "Darlin' I'm lookin' at your pretty little face and callin' you-"
"Two-hundred and sixteen?" said the asari, her tone sweet. "That's flattering, sweetie, but I'm a ways past that."
Jim looked to Sarah, who just smiled at him. "She's not a liar, Jim."
"Huh," said Jim, his stomach involuntarily clenching as the dropship began to lift off. "Guess I got a lot to learn."
"I'll show you some things," said the asari, flashing him a white smile, "we live through this, I'll buy you a drink. You are old enough to drink, right?"
Across from Jim, Saren laughed at his confusion. As they lifted into the atmosphere, the laughter stopped. All Jim could think about was the sheer number of ships moving about the place on the readout. Sure enough, the dropship began to shake violently as the air got a little colder.
"So, this is a little tougher than I expected!" said Horner from the cockpit, voice shaking. "There's weapons fire coming from everywhere, and those ships are way closer than they should be! I've got a lock on our coordinates, and the other dropships are going in fast, but we're not going to have an exit until you've got Duke locked down! You've met the man, Jim, you think he'll give up if you've got a gun to his head?"
"Uh," Jim said, thinking as the dropship rattled and he watched Saren close his eyes and start muttering to himself. "Maybe?"
"Great," said Horner. "We'll be there in two, if our luck holds out! Hold on, and pray!"
Jim patched into the assault frequency he had used back on Halcyon. Hearing the voices of other people he'd be walking into hell with helped, particularly as there seemed to be quite a few of them.
"Beats fighting the protoss," said a turian into the frequency. "I can't imagine getting through into one of their ships."
"Enough chatter," said Kerrigan, who had apparently patched in as well. "Keep this frequency clear. We're going to be ass-deep in marines in a minute, focus on that. Follow the lead of the terrans in your group, we know the straight shot to the bridge. Do NOT kill Duke. Good luck everyone. See you there." The dropship rocked again. Hopefully.
"Thirty seconds!" said Horner. "You ready?"
Jim hefted his gun. We're comin' for you Dukie. His squad consisted of himself, Saren, Kerrigan, two angry looking turians, and the three sassy asari. Despite his stomach feeling like it was full of worms, he was eager to see the asari in action. Kerrigan talked 'em up. Hope they're good.
There was a sudden spurt of speed, and Jim found himself partially pinned to the wall by the forces of gravity. In the pilot's seat, Jim could hear Matt chattering to himself at high speeds before, with a shriek of metal and a sickening lurch that felt like it nearly wrenched Jim's head free from his body, the dropship stopped moving.
"Out! Out! Out! This is it!" yelled Horner, the back of the dropship opening with a hiss. The turians filed out, shouting to each other, while the asari hefted the modified terran rifles and moved with surprising grace out of the ship, followed closely by Jim, Kerrigan and Saren.
The hangar was strewn with the smoking, recently-arrived Korhal dropships, their occupants finding cover wherever they could. Confederate hangar personnel were running, shrieking from the intrusion, while the handful of Confederate marines present fired, full automatic. Jim triggered the stimpack.
With a wordless scream, he leveled his gun to his shoulder and fired in short bursts at the opposition, attracting their swift attention. A round pinged off his shoulder, and Jim growled, his jittery fingers squeezing the trigger again and again.
He took cover behind a nearby dropship, watching asari glowing blue and making strange, sudden hand motions. Jim didn't remember what that meant until he saw a Confederate marine twitching in the air, suspended by unseen forces. Jim just grunted and emptied a short burst into the idiot, not even sure if he was already dead or not. He reloaded a mag, listening in on the chatter.
"Keep pushing forward! Follow me – small terran woman, red hair! I'll clear the way!"
Oh, darlin', I want to see this.
Jim peered around the charred side of the dropship in time to see Kerrigan materialize behind two marines, aiming at where the back of their heads were, and pulling the trigger twice. They fell in a heap.
"Turians and marines, front, with me. By the numbers, shoulder to shoulder, clean sweep. Kill anyone, I repeat, anyone in your way. Asari, spread out and follow in the back. Use singularities to keep our sixes clear – we need to clear a path quick, and we CANNOT be flanked. Move, dammit, we win this here!" Kerrigan rushed to the hangar exit, not waiting for anyone else. Through the haze of red and the torrent of stimmed up blood, Jim found time to admire Kerrigan as she took charge. If the Sons take control, it'll be because we had people like her, and the Confederacy didn't.
Jim took the front alongside Saren. He and his turians were stuck with modified semi-automatic weapons, the same one Kerrigan was using. AGR-14, I think. Jim could barely think straight. Kerrigan cloaked and pushed up, ordering the rest to follow.
The corridors of Norad II were cramped and had been vacated in a hurry. The reason why became clear, as the marines aboard the vessel had set up small blockades, using over turned crates. They were not ready for a cloaked Kerrigan, whose gunshots killed two, and made the rest turn their backs. This proved a fatal mistake. Jim's gun shuddered in his hands, and even when it ran dry during his ceaseless advance, the turian's aim mopped up what he missed. All the while, they advanced, even reloading on the move.
"Singularities behind!" called out an asari, and Jim saw several loose objects get sucked backward as the corridors turned a faint hue of blue. He didn't look behind him.
The next blockade ended much the same way, and Jim could hear, ever so faintly above the rush of blood in his ears, the sounds of Duke calling out to his troops. He didn't sound happy. Or calm. I'm gunnin' for you, you Confederate piece of shit.
"Keep advancing!" said Kerrigan, breathless. She had slid down glowing green goggles, making her appearance seem alien. "Another singularity! Running out of cloak. Jim, take point, you know cruisers!"
Jim was only too happy to oblige her. He charged through the corridors, visor down. An image of death. Stairs did not slow him. Technicians, screaming and waving their sidearms, did not slow him, and he did not hesitate. For the next blockade, he let Saren pick off a marine with his rifle before moving in, applying another stimpack as he took a round in the side and felt his suit applying painkillers and auto-bandages. Gonna need that checked out. It didn't matter, they were close.
The doors to the bridge were sealed, unsurprisingly. Jim actually found it hard to slow down, even when he looked at the floor and saw his own blood dripping through parts of his suit. There was only the rush, and the hatred, and the anger. So close. C'mon.
Kerrigan took one look at the blast doors and laughed. She loaded a lockdown round, aimed, and fired. The door crackled and slid open with a hiss, leaving the much more vulnerable bridge doors exposed.
Leaning against the wall next to the doors, Jim looked back and saw one of the singularities Kerrigan had mentioned – a glowing orb that had lifted three marines and left them drifting. Asari commandos had already drilled them repeatedly in the chest, leaving no danger. He felt his breathing slow.
Kerrigan applied charges to the door.
"This is the hard bit, folks. Jim, try to take fewer risks. I'm going to subdue Duke – do NOT touch him." Kerrigan took the other side of the doors. "Kill everyone on the bridge and then slam a singularity on the door. We're down a few people, so play it as safely as you can. Charges set, cloaking. Three, two, one-"
Jim stimmed again, feeling the pressure against his neck. He sighed as the world seemed to go into slow motion. Kerrigan disappeared in a shimmer of glory. Rounds slammed into the air around her, somehow leaving her untouched. A marine, Jim didn't know him, charged through the door only to be shredded in a shower of bullets. Jim, his breaths slow and even, watched four turians, Saren included, lay down fire, heard them reporting kills. Jim saw the opening at the same time the asari dead, leaping through the smoke and the confusion.
The bridge was large and spacious. Jim had a crazy thought about the high quality of the room before another round slammed into his left arm. His right held on to the gun and he fired, the stock leveled against his hip. Using a combination of leverage, the suit's strengths, and the drugs, Jim fired continuously in bursts at the faces of the marines. They collapsed, and Jim sighed.
The turians had moved up behind him, establishing cover. A grenade went off to his right, scorching his armor and making his arm blaze with pain. He could see the viewports, far past the chaos, the many ships dancing in the light and void. He staggered forward, dropping his weapon, only to rip his enormous sidearm from the holster. A bridge crewmember had almost sneaked past him, explosive in hand. His ribcage exploded as Jim's round tore into him. He gasped as the red and black spread under him. Jim found himself shoved forward, away from the door. He turned, saw Jenny's pink armor, and past that another singularity. The fighting had stopped. Jim hurt, all over.
"Yep, stimmed to the gills," said Jenny. "Had to keep charging somehow." She was limping, but still managed to bring Jim to his feet and force him forward.
Kerrigan was sitting on Duke, knees on his arms, a pistol pointed at his face. Duke, sweaty, red-faced, and bloodstained, was struggling and spitting, trying to break free.
Jim opened his visor, teeth bared. When Duke saw him, he laughed.
"Well, damn! I knew you yokels were dumb, but I didn't figure suicidal! Ya'll signed up with aliens? You tryin' to bring about the end of the human race, boy?"
"They didn't abandon us, asshole," said Jim, licking his lip only to taste metal. I… think I need a doctor. When he looked around, it was to see that most of the people with him did.
"Keep that singularity up!" yelled Kerrigan at a nearby bleeding asari, who nodded with an exhausted look on her face.
"Ya'll know you've lost, right?" Duke said, tone casual, despite the gun leveled to his head. "Hell of a thing, breaking through the line like this, them blue aliens have some worthwhile skills. But you're all torn up. Even the leader yokel's bleedin' like a stuck pig. And this battle's turnin' in my fav-"
"The asari fleet will be back any second, General," said Kerrigan. "Antiga Prime is ours. The Confederacy is falling to pieces around you, and you've got a gun to your head. Do you think the situation is under control? Saren, keep your rifle on him while I contact the Magistrate and Mengsk. We don't have much time."
Duke laughed again, this time sounding strained. "Go ahead, girlie. Confederacy's got special plans for you. Ghosts like you are few and far between, from what I heard. They're gonna mess with your gray matter 'till there ain't a hint of you left."
Jim felt a surge of anger at this and started forward, but only fell to his knees. Duke gave him a smile.
"You don't look so good, boy," he said. "Why don't you just take a lie down? My boys will be here soon enough. They'll tuck you in nice and tight."
Kerrigan came back holding a device from which a glowing version of Mengsk's head emerged. It looked down on Duke with what was clearly an expression of amusement.
"General Edmund Duke. We meet again."
"A pleasure," spat Duke, keeping an eye on Saren's rifle, which was trained on his forehead and followed his every movement. "I see you done well for yourself. You here to get me to surrender?"
"Surrender?" said Mengsk, sounding offended. "General, I'm here to make an offer. I've been recruiting the best and brightest to my cause for quite some time now, and there is a definite deficit of trained military men. I'd say you fit the bill – and this is an optimal time for you to d-"
"Defect?" Duke barked out some more forced laughter, which turned into coughing. Jim felt a slight pang as another singularity was thrown up near the entrance. He could hear shouting. They ain't gonna storm the room until they figure they can do so without killing Duke. Shit. We need him alive. "I'm a general, for Christ's sake. I served this Confederacy for decades – and I don't mean for it to go wasted. What could you possibly offer me?"
Mengsk smiled. Jim heard more yells, this time some of them coming from the equipment nearby.
"That would be my third fleet," said Mengsk. "They're inbound. So firstly, I can offer you life, as crude as that is. But mostly, I can offer you a place of honor as my general, a general on the winning side. Do you feel the Confederacy has handled the zerg well? Have they handled my little rebellion? They're losing ground with every passing moment, to forces that they do not understand. If you join me, I promise you glory, I promise you an army, I promise you victory. Can the Confederacy do that for you?"
"Don't…" gasped Jim. "Don't trust him, man. He's a… damn snake."
"Well, if the yokel don't want me to do it, it must be a good idea," said Duke, licking his lips. Jim took a shuddering breath but was unable to retort. Lights were flashing past his eyes, and strong hands were lowering him to the ground. "Well… hell. Can't say the Confederacy has been doin' well these last few months. How many ships these aliens of yours got?"
"More than enough to conquer this Sector and wipe out the Confederacy, even if I fell," said Mengsk smoothly. It was all starting to get fuzzy, though Jim desperately clung to consciousness.
There was a pause.
"Boys," said Duke loudly, "this is General Duke. Cease fire. Cease fire, dammit. I said, HOLD!" Jim could see Mengsk's face out of the corner of his eye. He saw him staring down at Duke, giving the man a wide smile. "Alright, you silver-tongued devil. I'm your man. Now, girlie, help me up. I'm part of your little outfit now."
"No…" muttered Jim. "This ain't… what I signed up for."
"No one signs up to get shot, Jim," said Jenny, her bloody face looming in his face. "Hold on, the medics are inbound. You'll be alright, Jim. Just hold on…"
The last thing Jim saw was Duke, bloodied yet unbowed, a smirk on his face.
"Told you to lie down, boy. Lookin' forward to workin' with me?"
Jim tried to force out a retort, but instead it all went dark.