A Protoss dropped to his knees screaming in pain. A detached limb lay lifelessly next to him. The shimmering hue of the psionic blade made the blood glisten and shimmer. Artanis, Hierarch of the Protoss, was kneeling before the Civil Council, one hand on his weapon, the other tending to the cauterized wound near his head. His glare to the Council both terrified and shocked the other Protoss beyond belief. Next to Artanis laid his nerve appendages. Limping over to a table, Artanis grabbed the energy clamp, placing it firmly over his head in pain.

The council had yet to say a word.

"This is of your doing," hissed Artanis in pain. "You have forced me to this extreme and you have become the target of my greatest hatred. You, fiends, have made me alien from my own species! I would not have you attempt to gain control of my mind once more."

The council's eyes rested still on the blade.

"I will not kill you," stated Artanis, finally. "I am not a tyrant. Opposition is not silenced but those unjust will be...regulated accordingly. You are the most lost I have ever known. And for only that reason, shall I allow you to live, to perhaps regain any honour you once had. But first..."

Several Dark Templar appeared in the room. A distinguished sound of a flurry of warp blades was followed by the cries of lesser Protoss. The Council fell, gripping their respective heads.

"Now you may never taint another mind," whispered Artanis. "Who knows how many you have manipulated through the years. Now you feel my pain. Now you face my future – one of isolation brought about by none other than yourselves. For while you may never again touch my mind, there are others who may dare to try. I will not allow my efforts to save my people be sabotaged by you or anyone else. And I will save my people, even in disgrace."

The Dark Templar forcefully shoved the disbanded Council members from Artanis' chambers. Gently, Artanis touched his energy clamp. It felt alien to him, ill-fitting and uncomfortable. But this was his future. He would never again feel the warm embrace of the Khala. He would never again be wholly Protoss.

OOO

"Mira Han's forces were...ruthless," whispered Valerian. "They didn't even try and issue diplomatic solutions. They just slaughtered the Kel-Morians."

"She performed it exactly as I would have," replied Arcturus, an evil smile, extending the length of his face. "We were right in hiring her services. She was particularly...efficient. Perhaps I will keep her around longer. Her forces are potent."

"But still..."

"Don't dare defend those bastard Kel-Morians!" roared Mengsk, suddenly. "You saw the fleets! They were not sent on a diplomatic mission! They were headed straight for the throne world! They've just sowed the seeds of their own undoing. Do you understand that son? They just declared war on us!"

"Well, news of this will get out within the next day or so. How are we to act?"

"The Kel-Morians won't try that again," Mengsk sneered. "Not after this botched attack. But we can't do anything about the Combine just yet. The Umojans still pose a formidable threat."

Valerian fidgeted uncomfortably. "What does the Protectorate have anything to do with this? The Kel-Morians attacked us, not the Umojans."

"If we counter-attack the Combine, the Umojans will help them," sighed Mengsk. "They have an unparalleled intelligence network that might very well extend to this throne itself. The sneaky bastards can create carnage in a less brute force way, but more important way than the Kel-Morians. Right now, Umoja poses a larger threat to us than Kel-Moria does."

"But we can't just destroy Umoja!" exclaimed Valerian.

There was a long pause.

"No, we can't," reasoned Mengsk, pacing around the room. "The Umojan Protectorate exists as a very bizarre state, unlike any other in this sector. Umoja is their homeworld but it is not their center. The Protectorate has no center. Umojans have spread across the sector like a disease. But they are fiercely patriotic and unequivocally loyal to the Protectorate. We could destroy Umoja today, but the state would exist still. If Moria falls, so does the Combine. Alas, that's not the case for the Umojan Protectorate. They have spies everywhere, elements everywhere. You know this better than most. Before we make a move on Moria, we must deal with the Umojans."

Mengsk slid his hands across the bindings of his new manifesto. It's velvet smooth texture filled him with confidence.

"It is time for Dominion expansion," the emperor whispered. "We've played nice with the Kel-Morians and the Umojans but no longer. We recovered from the zerg attacks and have put down the separatist movement. Only the Protectorate and the Combine stand in the way between the Dominion and total Sector control. The Koprulu sector belongs to the Dominion. The Koprulu sector belongs to me."

OOO

Engines roared and cringing metal rang through the air with resolve. Preparations had been made. Thors and their A.R.E.S. brothers had already been stored, followed by the siege tanks and diamondbacks. The infantry had already begun resettling into their familiar living quarters within the massive BattleCruisers. Banshees and Vikings raced through the sky, patrolling for any hint of hostile activity. An attack on their forces, now consolidated and defenceless, would be very costly.

Raynor stood at the steps of the Observatory with Matt Horner, General Warfield and Kerrigan by his side. Nova had mysteriously vanished again. Raynor couldn't worry about her right now. Artanis descended the steps, leaning on Zeratul for support. Fenix, Selendis and Mohandar accompanied him.

"Artanis...your head..." started Raynor.

"We don't live in a world where we have the luxury of following every rule," repeated Artanis, warmly. "Thank you for reminding me of that. I was forced to take drastic measures to ensure we survive. And we will survive, in no small part thanks to you."

"What will you do?" asked Horner.

"For now, we wait," spoke Executor Selendis. "We will secure our skies and bolster the ranks of the Protoss. Soon, we will make a push to secure the Aiur system itself."

"Do not get ahead of yourself, young Selendis," sighed Fenix. "Our first priority, as agreed upon, is to you, my friend. In helping us with our struggle, the Protoss have pledged to aid you with yours."

"Call upon us, and your enemies will fear," spoke Mohandar.

"I will stop by every now and again," spoke Zeratul, in a mysteriously elated tone.

Artanis stepped forth. "Honourable Raynor, you have helped the Protoss time and time again in our greatest time of need. Words fall short of how much you have aided us. The Protoss would be lost without you. I would have been lost without you. You are a hero of the Protoss, James Raynor. That is a title not easily forgotten. When the time permits it, call upon us, my friend. Fight and we will fight with you. Charge and we will charge with you. We owe you that much."

Both groups of different races, backed away. The gruff and tenacious terrans, made for their ships. Their resolve was unbreakable and their goal, clear and within grasp. The golden Protoss, ascended back to the Observatory, watching as their allies and saviours left their new reclaimed world, off to combat the likes of tyranny and monsters. The two races would join again, one day fighting side by side to fend off the coming storm. But until then, one race sought to recover, the other sought to free itself.

Onboard the Hyperion, Raynor looked out onto the blackness and the stars. Matt Horner stood next to him. Not a word was spoken. The ambient beeps of working technology became a trance. This was where they belonged.

"So we're really going after the Dominion this time," spoke Horner, not believing his own words. "No more underground operations, no more beating around the bush. We're really going after Mengsk."

"He's gonna get what's coming to him sooner or later," said Raynor. "And I'd like to be the one to send him to hell. And I'm not the only one on board who feels that way as well. How soon will we reach the Prime system?"

"Soon."

"I want all men at battle stations and a full readiness level when we enter the system," Raynor spoke seriously. "I don't like defeating the enemy then going to one of their only remaining strongholds. If we're lucky the zerg won't even know we're there. And if we're unlucky, well I don't want them getting the jump on us like..."

"Like Mira," finished Matt quietly. "I knew she was ruthless but I never thought she would lower herself to work for Mengsk and the Dominion."

"They must have presented her quite the offer."

"No doubt," laughed Horner humourlessly. "We should have seen it coming. She betrayed us once, and then broke our agreement. I hear she murdered Colonel Orlan too. I'm willing to nearly half of all the prisoners of New Folsom serve or served under her. She takes piracy to a whole new level. She's a conniving little-"

"Easy there, Matt. This doesn't have to be personal."

"It already is personal!" fumed the captain. "Never again, you hear me? I ain't ever gonna play another game without first knowing the stakes and the prizes. But if she thinks some flimsy marriage paper is going to keep me from giving her what she deserves, well she has another one coming for her."

The pair went silent. The Commander knew there was more to this whole situation between Matt and Mira Han. But he wouldn't press it. Horner seemed confused enough already.

"We do have an opportunity though," interjected the second in command. "Last time we went to the Prime System it was Sigmaris Prime – you remember right? Its moon, Valhalla – the one we stole the Odin from – had another big experimental machine."

"The Loki," stated Raynor.

"Exactly!" exclaimed Matt. "Last time, we couldn't take it on after the losses we sustained. Even the Odin was taking a beating from it. But now, I'd say a battlecruiser like that would be invaluable. We should seize the chance and take it. With the Galapagos and the Zephyr gone, our list of supercruisers is dwindling. We got the Jackson's Revenge, the Ardent and the Hyperion of course. Adding the Loki to our ranks would increase our strength plenty. Rory's good, but not as good as a whole team of Dominion Engineers with access to the best gear the sector has to offer. Who knows what they loaded onto that monster of a ship, the Norad IV. Then we'd still be squared off against that giant Bucephalus."

"Then make it quick. I want to spend as little amount of time near Antiga Prime as possible," shrugged Raynor, leaving the deck.

"Where are you going?" called Horner.

Raynor turned around. "I got the two best ghosts in the sector on my ship. One's the top Confederate ghost and a recovering drug addict. The other is the top Dominion ghost and is as enraged as she is unstable. And to make matters worse, they're both women. Where do you think I'm going? I'm already whipped to my crew..."

Roars of laughter filled the air as Raynor left the room.

Raynor found himself in the armoury. This floor of giant metal rooms still amazed Raynor. He found his chief engineer lounging about, riffling through money. The moustached man spotted his commander, waving him over.

"Hey their cowboy, feeling all better?"

"I've been worse," said Raynor, smiling. "And thanks by the way back on Antioch. I'd be lying in a crater if it wasn't for you."

"Well you wanna put some money down?" asked the engineer. "I've made a nice few bucks so far. Those Predator things Stetmann came up with, their nuts man! We can't control them anymore. So we're just throwing a pair of them in a cage and placing money on who's still standing and who's a pile of scrap metal."

"I think I'll pass. Actually, I'm just looking for Kerrigan."

A loud beep and a heavy contact with his shoulder stunned Raynor to glance behind him. He saw Sarah standing several feet away, sitting atop a few stacked ammo boxes.

"Don't mind Obi," she called.

On cue, the trusty Observer uncloaked and began spinning his single eye. Raynor watched in mild confusion. Perhaps Kerrigan was becoming a little lonely. Befriending a faulty alien robot wasn't exactly his idea of companionship.

"What's with the observer?" asked the commander, approaching the redhead.

"Don't blame me, it followed me," replied Sarah, smoothly.

"And you don't seem too worried by that."

"Well, as every other Protoss technician mentioned to me, this particular observer is a malfunctioning piece of hardware. And seeing as the Protoss are our allies now, it's not like they would be spying on us. Even if they could, Obi's broken anyway."

"Obi? You named a robotic stealth unit?" questioned Raynor incredulously. "Okay, this is getting a little weird."

"He keeps me distracted from...well you know," Kerrigan strayed off. "And it's a pretty nifty way of keeping an eye on the ship."

"On the ship or on me?" asked the commander flatly.

"Whichever you prefer," she responded sweetly. "Anyway, did you just come over here to talk to me about my robot fetish?"

"It's a fetish now?" demanded James Raynor. "Never mind. I came down here to tell you exactly what we're going to do."

"We're going after the Dominion," said Kerrigan instantly and almost apathetically. "We're going to park our fleet over Dylar IV and then rain some hell on the Dylarian Shipyards. After that, who knows? There's way too many things to consider. The Kel-Morian Combine might try another attack, the Protectorate might make their move as well, that damned Hybrid could show up somewhere else and most importantly of all, the Dominion could regroup and counterattack us from either the Korhal, Brontes or Braxis system."

Raynor would have questioned her suspicious knowledge of the situation were it not for the observer spinning around her head.

"I need to know you can handle going after Mengsk," spoke the tentative commander. "The difficulty in bringing down both the Dominion and its plethora of systems will be difficult enough without ghosts running angry and stupid everywhere, bloodthirsty for Mengsk."

Sarah looked down. "You know what he did to me, what he put me through," she said quietly. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to put a bullet through his head myself. In fact, I want it badly. Arcturus is cold, ruthless, manipulative and remorseless. But I have a responsibility. Remember back on Haven? I have a responsibility for every person I killed as the Queen of Blades...for every life I ruined. I was given a second chance. And I'm not about to waste it on the likes of revenge...or drugs. I hate him yes. And I wish him dead yes. But I hunt him for you first, myself second. I've put my vendetta aside. Mengsk will die, not for what he did to me, but for what he's done to all of us."

Raynor nodded, understandingly.

"Jim, I've already lost myself twice," said the ghost. "Once to the zerg and then once to the stimpacks. I'm not about to let revenge suck me in as well."

"Glad to hear it," sighed Raynor, appreciatively. "That's one less thing for me to worry about. Anyway, we're about to enter the Prime system. Make sure you're ready. If what we know is accurate, since their defeat on Char and Aiur, Antiga Prime is their last stronghold. Let's hope nothing foul is waiting for us back on that forgotten world."

Kerrigan nodded. Jim wanted to embrace her, tell her how strong she was being, how remarkable of a woman she was. But this wasn't the time. It was never the time. Between fighting the zerg and then the Dominion and then this prophecy, it was likely that the commander and the ghost wouldn't get more than a few minutes with each other at any given time. He reached out, cupping her small face tenderly as she beamed. Their kiss was appropriately brief.

"Before you said ghosts," said Kerrigan suddenly. "You said ghosts not ghost."

Raynor shot her a knowing look.

Kerrigan sighed. "I'll go talk to November."

OOO

General Winston Duke laid down his spent cigar, bathing in the smoke while his subordinates tried to conceal their discomfort and quiet their coughs. Behind him, the soft tunes of Beethoven's 3rd blared in full force. Why the earth-born decided to pack this in with the ships, no one knew. But the Eroica seemed to fit well with the new Duke General. He set down his victory glass, basking in the presence of the Norad IV. Winston Duke had entered into the military out of family tradition, not ambition or strength. The Dominion seemed to place a large emphasis on legacies. That was to be expected, especially with Emperor Mengsk and the heir apparent, Prince Valerian. The General smiled at his good fortunes. Nothing would suppress his mood. Even as the Emperor himself called the General, chastising him for his tactical error on Orunu Sigma.

"Screw the Emperor," said Duke, aloud, albeit softly.

This was the sort of thanks that the General got after simply trying to secure extra resources for the Dominion. Their attack site on Orunu Sigma was meticulously chosen. It was a haven for minerals. The only downside was having to closely shepherd the Hybrid to make sure it stayed on track. And then they were unfortunately caught. Mengsk had previously warned the new general that auxiliary objectives were not to compromise the primary, but Duke's greed got the better of him.

"So what?" rationalized the general. "The Kel-Morians figured it out, big deal. Their attack didn't do shit anyway."

Duke thought of the criminal Raynor. They had never met unfortunately. Duke was equally sick of Mengsk's tirades on the man as he was about the fringe colonial appraisal for the man. When they would meet in person, face to face on the battlefield, Duke would judge his character for himself. Supposedly he was an excellent tactician with a wide array of combat knowledge to boot. And he was experienced, the one thing Winston Duke was missing. However, he had the backing of the strongest faction, alien or otherwise, in the Koprulu Sector. He had command of the most technologically advanced warship in known space. And he had the undying devout loyalty of his soldiers. It surprised the young general to no end that he had become something of a Cult of Personality. He supposed his name had much to do with that. General Warfield had been a legend in his own right who's accomplishments included having secured the entire Torus sector from the zerg with one small measly battle group. But still, General Edmund Duke's accomplishments dwarfed that of the General Warfield. Men saw Winston Duke as the reincarnation of that man, and so long as it assured him loyalty, Winston Duke wasn't about to question that. He wasn't even that fond of his late uncle. They barely spoke. And when Winston Duke thought of his uncle's killer, the Queen of Blades, he was filled with joy rather than vengeance. He wished to thank her for creating circumstances for his ascension. But he'd kill her all the same.

The Norad IV and the rest of the ships were on route back to the Shipyards. The Emperor felt that the revolution had been decidedly doused. Though Winston Duke did have to admit, storing the Hybrid in the Norad IV, no matter how secure the scientists claimed it to be, was...unsettling. Every tremble onboard the ship, Duke feared it to come from the escape of the Hybrid. Their countermeasures had been impeccably effective, but Duke had seen the carnage of Tyrador IX, Tyrador III, mayhem at Brontes I and massacre at Orunu Sigma. It would only take a few seconds for a loose Hybrid to cause a lot of trouble for this new pristine ship. He had thought many times about throwing the Hybrid out the airlock. Alas, while Duke held not respect for the Emperor, Dominion reprisal would be severe if he were to throw away Mengsk's needed asset. This was Mengk's tool for forced loyalty and Duke was the one weilding it. The fleet was headed back to the core worlds to re-supply and refuel but Duke knew it wouldn't be long until they were back out here again.

When all you have is a hammer, everything starts to look like a nail

OOO

"How are we Matt," demanded Raynor.

"So far, so good," noted the captain. "No zerg flyers detected. No disturbances of any kind. Maybe we caught a break. I sent a probe out to Sigmaris Prime. If we can locate the Loki again on Valhalla, this will have all been worth it."

"Don't hold your breath," cautioned Raynor. "The Dominion has probably already shipped that thing back to Korhal or Dylar. Anyway, reposition the fleet. Move the Husky back from the extremities. If we're attacked, it's too fragile to hold its own without other Battlecruiser support. Make sure the Jackson's Revenge brings up the rear. I want those dual Yamato Cannons prepped to fire."

"Being a little paranoid sir?" bemused Horner.

"Just cautious, Matt," spoke the Commander wisely. "As much as we hurt the zerg, they'll be back. They always come back. And sneaking right past their stronghold is just asking for trouble. And to top it off, I think we have a problem with Nova."

"Ghosts are trouble," sighed Matt, frustratingly. "When have you not had trouble with one ghost or the other? I'm starting to think Nova is more trouble than she's worth. I mean, General Warfield wants her head for the stunt she pulled at the Heavenly Mountain Pass, even if it was for good reason. And she just so happens to be an heir to the Dominion throne as well as a former Dominion operative."

"I'm starting to agree with you," murmured the commander. "But if we let her go now, she'll go on a killing spree just to get to Mengsk, and in the process, she'll get herself killed. But I can't deploy her like this. She's too unstable and I can't seem to figure out why. When you have time, go and fetch her helmet camera footage from the Antioch battle. I want to see what shook her up."

Matt nodded. "Wait a sec, the probe's footage is coming up now. It's too soon...it's not even half way to Sigmaris Prime. What the hell is it transmitting?"

"Footage coming up now!" declared an officer. "Location is...Antiga Prime."

The screen flickered to life and all on the bridge went silent. Eyes were glued to the screen in disbelief and absolutely no one aboard knew what to make of it.

"Jesus Christ," whispered Raynor. "What the hell is this?"


Author's Note: Don't get mad, I'm not forgetting about the Protoss! But there are some terran matters that need to be addressed and resolved in this part of the story. And I can't do that with Protoss wandering about. I would either have to forcefully and badly include them into this plot or simply ignore them, which is not something I plan on doing. The Protoss will return. Take Obi as a little comfort while you wait. For those confused about Antiga, I will reveal it next chapter, but seeing as I took a long break, go back and read Chapter 24. It might hint as what's to be made of Antiga Prime. Once again, thanks for reading and please review.