...
Act II
A Christmas to remember
Chapter 11
Almost like Cinderella, only with Guns
The moment the woman turned around, Jim couldn't believe his eyes. It couldn't be. Not now. Not here. He had seen a lot of things in his life and had always been able to not lose focus on the task at hand. However, right now his mind wasn't able to fully understand what was going on. Yet when he looked into the woman's eyes...
"Sarah?" His voice was barely a whisper. For a moment the look on the woman's face seemed to be...surprised? And even shocked? But it only lasted for a moment. The woman regained her composure and gave Jim a warm smile.
"Excuse me, but do I know you?" she asked. Only then Jim started to blink in confusion. Right in front of him was...was...
He let go of the woman's hand and made a step backward. He looked at her face and frowned. But...that woman...
...was not Sarah.
She resembled Sarah, but not that much. Her most striking features were without a doubt her flaming red hair and her green eyes. But her face had a different shape. Sarah's face had always had a somewhat triangular shape. This woman's face was more, well, square-shaped. She was still a beautiful woman and Jim had no doubts that everyone on this party would agree with him. But there was just one small problem...
...she wasn't Sarah.
For a moment, something inside his mind tried to fight that conclusion. Something was wrong. As if he was looking at something that wasn't even real. No. No, it had to be a mistake. The woman right in front of him was very much real. And it felt like the truth was finally able to silence the little voice of doubt inside his mind.
...this was not Sarah.
"For... forgive me. I'm awfully sorry." Jim said and made another step backward. "I mistook you for someone else. I didn't want to startle you, Miss..." Instead of turning away and leaving, she gave him a warm smile. Like said; she was an exceptionally beautiful woman. Her hair only reached to her shoulders and her face was covered with a few freckles. It gave her something youthful.
"It is okay. You just surprised me." she said with an angel-like voice. Jim had to swallow hard when he heard that voice. She turned her whole body towards him and offered him her hand.
"Jane Shepard. Nice to meet you." Jane Shepard. He had never heard that name before and he was sure that he would have remembered someone with that name and that look. No, he was sure that he had never met this woman before. Yet why did he feel like he knew her? He looked at her hand and when he grabbed it, he shook it carefully.
"James Raynor. Sorry for scaring the hell outta ya'. Wasn't my intention." he just mumbled and could feel how the embarrassment started to creep through his body. Shepard tilted her head to the side and gave Jim a surprised look.
"Raynor? The James Raynor?" she asked both in surprise and disbelief. "The leader of Raynor's Raiders? The one who fought both the Zerg and aided the Protoss?" When Jim heard that, he had to frown. Great, this woman wasn't another one of those creepy conspiracy journalists that claimed that the war against the Zerg had been nothing but a lie, staged by the old Confederacy in order to hide how they had mass murdered the people of Tarsonis. None of that made any sense, but conspiracy guys would only tell you that this was exactly the idea behind it. Jim raised his hands, knowing that there was no way to get away in time.
"Guilty as charged. Though I'm pretty sure that everything you have heard is greatly exaggerated. And before you ask; no, there is no such thing as a blood brotherhood among Protoss." Jim sighed before he looked around.
"Listen." he then told her. "I am really sorry for startling you. Like said, I mistook you for someone else. Won't happen again though. So I hope you can forgive me. Uhm... yeah... well... I wish you a nice day." Suddenly Jim felt horrible. He dropped his shoulders and was about to turn away and return to the crowd down below. For a second, for the fraction of a second, he had truly believed that it could have been her...
...that she had returned to him.
It made it all the more painful, realizing that he had just fooled himself. It wasn't her. It wasn't Sarah. He closed his eyes and had to fight his feelings for a moment. He didn't notice when Jane Shepard looked at him with an equally painful expression on her face.
To think that she was this close to you back then...he could hear her voice inside his head. It helped. Helped to fight back the tears. Her voice gave him strength. At least enough strength so he wouldn't collapse on the ground right here and now.
"It's okay." he then whispered. "It's not your fault. It never was." When he spoke out those words, he couldn't see how Jane started to frown. He didn't hear her shocked gasp, nor did he see the disbelieving expression on her face when she finally realized that those voices inside their heads hadn't been just random voices...
"So you... heard it too?" he could hear Jane whisper, but he didn't care. Instead, he started to walk down the staircase, ready to do what he usually did these days, and that was nothing at all. Right behind him, Jane Shepard looked like her heart was about to explode. She reached out to him, and for a short moment, her hair started to glow. Yet it happened too fast for anyone to notice it.
Or was it because she didn't want them to notice it?
Whatever the reason, Jim didn't care about any of this. Instead, he continued to walk down the staircase, his mind too numb with pain and loss to notice any of that. And he didn't notice when Shepard looked at his back while he was walking away from her. Neither did he notice when Shepard clenched her hands into fists. She took a deep breath and made a step forward.
"Mr. Raynor? Please wait a moment! There's something I would like to ask you!" Jim stopped, unsure of what to do next. He wasn't really in the mood for any fancy talk right now. Yet when he looked over his shoulder and saw the pleading look on Shepard's face, he sighed and looked her straight into the eyes.
"Please tell me that you're not one of those gossip writers that call themselves journalists around here." Shepard gave him a thankful smile and lowered her gaze.
"Don't worry, I'm not here to embarrass you or anything like that. But I have heard so much about you and I just would like to talk to someone who, well, has seen it all with his own two eyes." She could see how Jim fought with himself. He brushed with his fingers through his hair and shook his head.
"Don't get me wrong, lady..." he then told her. "...but this is kinda random. Besides, I doubt that this is the right time and place for old guys like me to tell ancient war-stories to young and beautiful ladies that should be enjoying themselves." He saw how Shepard blushed, but at the same time, she continued to smile at him.
"You think that I'm beautiful?" she asked him.
"I think "beautiful" is inadequate to describe you, my lady. And I'm probably a fool for saying this, but I think that there are many better-looking guys in this very this room. And every single one is probably wealthy as hell, which I am not" he added. It caused Shepard to laugh.
"That might be so." she told them. "But they all share the same problem."
"And what would that be?" Jim wanted to know.
"They're not the legendary James Raynor." Shepard declared. Jim frowned when he heard that and looked into her eyes. Was she a creepy stalker? No. His guts told him that she wasn't a stalker. She was something else...
"Just who are you? And what do you want from me?" Jim asked her directly.
"I am a... historian." she finally declared. Jim's eyes widened in both surprise and disbelief. He looked at her whole body, her dress and her entire appearance before he finally shook his head.
"Forgive me my bluntness, but you're not looking like any historian I've ever met." Shepard nodded when she heard that.
"It is less of a profession and more of a passion of mine, really. Still, there are so many things I would like to ask you. If you don't mind." Jim sighed again and looked around. He felt like a dork. Here he was, looking like a lumberjack without a home while the most beautiful girl at the party was asking him to talk with her? He scanned the area for someone who would be a good match for her.
"Is there... isn't there anyone here who's with you? Like a husband, or a boyfriend? I'm certain that such a beautiful lady hasn't come here all by herself." Now the smile vanished from Shepard's face and she lowered her gaze.
"There is someone..." she managed to say, but her voice was barely a whisper. "...but... right now it seems we are worlds apart." Jim could hear the pain and guilt in the woman's voice and nodded.
"Yeah, I know that feeling. Sometimes you just wonder..."
"...where it all started to go wrong." both of them said at the same time and looked at each other in surprise. It was Shepard who spoke first.
"Forgive me, I didn't want to bother you with my personal problems. I am certain that a person of your position has many important things to do. Meeting dignitaries, advise the Emperor, make plans for the future." That statement caused Jim to laugh out loud.
"Ha! Oh, not these days it ain't." He sighed and looked back at the crowd beneath them. "These days I rarely do anything. Most of my time I'm alone and stare at the landscape. But enough about me, I'm certain that you didn't want to listen to an old man's ranting, beautiful." he declared. Shepard tilted her head to the side and took a good look at him.
"You're hardly what I would call an "old man", Mr. Raynor." she then declared.
"Yeah, well, sure feels like that though." he replied. He rubbed his temples and tried to gather his thoughts.
"Listen, I really don't want to sound rude or anything, but right now I don't think that I'm what you would call "good company". So, I guess that's-"
"Please!" Shepard pleaded and made a step towards him. When she moved, the dress around her body started to shift again. He knew that there was something called "chameleon-silk" that could change its color at any given time. But this stuff? He had no idea how that even worked. "Just a quick chat, Mr. Raynor. I promise that I will not bother you with any stupid questions. There are just things I really need to know. You do know that feeling, right? If there are questions you just have to get an answer for, or they will haunt you for the rest of your life." He looked into Jane Shepard's eyes and thought about that for a moment.
"Yeah..." he finally said. "Yeah, I know that feeling." And then Jim sighed again. "Okay. Ask your question. But I've got three demands. And they're not open for negotiations." The redhead tilted her head to the side again and looked at him carefully.
"Name them."
"First; let's go somewhere else. There are too many people inside this room. Secondly; you're gonna tell me why such a beauty has such a big interest in history." Jane nodded when she heard those demands.
"That sounds reasonable. And the third?" she wanted to know. Now a weak smile appeared on his face.
"Call me Jim."
"You know, since we will probably be spending most of this evening together, how about you call me "Valerian"?" Valerian offered when he and Valeria Samson entered the throne room. The young woman frowned and seemed to be absolutely displeased with that idea.
"No, your Majesty. That would be unwise. I will address you as "His Imperial Majesty" at all times during this evening's festivals. At least until we know each other better."
Would that be after the first or the second child? Valerian thought grimly but kept that thought to himself. Bet neither Jim nor Matt have to deal with this kind of crap right now.
Right.
After they stepped into the throne room, the door was closed behind them. There were some more guards, but they were unarmed. The elite of the Dominion wanted to keep to themselves, and every additional person would just be a potential leak. Somewhat paranoid, but you probably had to be paranoid if you were part of this elite club of misfits and cutthroats.
At least there wasn't any announcer that would...
"Ladies and Gentlemen!" someone started to speak right next to Valerian. Oh, great. "I present to you; His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Valerian Mengsk and his companion, Lady Valeria Penelope Artemis Kunigunde Samson!" Right next to him, Valeria tensed up. Suddenly there was a look of utter disgust on her face.
"What's the matter?" he whispered to her. She looked at him in cold murderer and he wasn't sure if she would yell at him for not noticing it.
"They forgot a name!" she hissed back, only loud enough that he could hear it.
"Forgot a name?" he asked with a confused tone in his voice. What was that about?
"It's Lady Valeria Penelope Annabelle Artemis Kunigunde Samson! They forgot to mention my second middle name! This is absolutely unacceptable!"
Oh boy. Valerian couldn't shake the feeling that he was in for one hell of a ride.
Though the announcer didn't use those other fancy titles his colleague had used earlier, Valerian wasn't very happy when he saw how all the heads inside the throne room turned towards him. And unlike those guys in the ballroom, these jokers here didn't grin or look up at him in adoration. And he had his doubts that they would cheer for him either. Instead, most of them just looked at him as if they were analyzing the Emperor of the Dominion. And Valerian could almost feel the cold distance between them.
Instead of giving them a fancy speech, he just bowed his head, a gesture most of them returned the same way.
There was a strict protocol he had to follow. And the first thing was to properly greet all the important people and dignitaries. That meant that they all formed up in a row and he would walk past them, greeting every single one of them personally. And there were hundreds of people inside the throne room.
Valerian groaned on the inside. Well, it was time to shake hands like a true professional. He and Valeria walked over to the first guests, a middle-aged man with his, uhm, daughter? Probably not. He bowed his head respectfully and so did the honored guest. Next to him, Valeria spoke up.
"Lord Hanson Trenton and his beautiful wife, the lovely Lady Iris Trenton. I present to you; His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Valerian Mengsk." she then introduced them to each other. Wait, did she know every single person in this room?
"Your Majesty." Lord Trenton (Valerian didn't even know that they had Lords inside the Dominion) bowed in front of Valerian and his companion, so did his wife, who looked like she was thirty years younger. By the way, was child-marriage actually forbidden? If not, then he should work on that once this party was over.
"It is an honor to finally meet you in person, your Majesty." Iris Trenton whispered. Even though she looked very young, there was something humble about her presence. Valerian had learned to like humble people. Suddenly, and much to Valeria's shock and dismay, Valerian took Lady Trenton's hand into his and gave it a soft kiss. The woman blushed immediately but managed to keep her straight face. He then moved on to Lord Trenton and offered his hand to him. The surprised look on Trenton's face showed Valerian that this wasn't part of the official protocol. Too bad, he was the Emperor, he could do whatever the hell he wanted to. Well, sometimes. Trent grabbed Valerian's hand and shook it. It was a strong grip, but not too forceful.
"I am happy that you could come to this party." Valerian then said. "And hopefully we can talk some more during tonight's festivities." The look of surprise on both Mr. and Mrs. Trenton's face was a refreshing, but they immediately regained their composure and started to nod.
"That would be nice, your Majesty." Lord Trenton only managed to mumble. Valerian looked one more time at Iris Trenton and offered her a warm smile.
"And may I say; you look lovely in that dress." Iris Trenton blushed at the Emperor's words and lowered her gaze.
"Thank you for your compliment, your Majesty. But it is nothing special." she just told him.
"You are of course right..." Valerian then told her. "...dresses are just dresses. It's the person that wears them that makes them shine." Now Iris blushed even harder. Next to him, he could hear Valeria's trademark "Hmpf" and realized that it was time to move on.
"I wish you a lot of fun and that you'll enjoy this party. Until later." Valerian then said and bowed one last time. As both he and Valerian moved on, he could feel how her grip on his arm tightened. It felt as if a polar bear was trying to give him a hug.
"That dress was from the last season." Valeria hissed, which caused him to blink in surprise.
"Yeah, so?" he asked back as they approached the next guests. He could see how she shuddered when she heard his "Yeah". Apparently, an Emperor wasn't supposed to use the word "Yeah". Yeah, well, tough luck.
"To come to this event with a dress from last season is... is..." Valeria clenched her hands into fists as cold rage started to flow through her body. "...unacceptable! This is not a cattle market!" she hissed. Much to his own dismay, Valerian realized that she was dead serious about that.
Well, if that's the biggest problems we have to deal with, then we don't have to worry about anything else... he thought before he shook his head.
"I will make sure that the guests on the next Christmas-party will be informed that such an attire is not desired." Valeria then told him as they approached the next dignitary. She then added a "Hmpf", which caused Valerian to shudder. Suddenly an image flashed before his inner eye. He saw his older self, sitting at a table, eating something.
"Can I have the water, my love?" he asked his wife and Empress, Valeria Mengsk the Astonishing.
"Hmpf. Get it yourself."
Brrrrrr...
"So, what is Trenton doing for a living anyway?" Valerian wanted to know. A look of contempt appeared on Valeria's face.
"He is... selling fertilizer. Apparently, he sells a lot of this substance. Though I cannot see how that fact qualifies him to attend this party. There used to be standards, you know." Fertilizer. Fertilizer. Now that she had told him that, Valerian had to look over the shoulder. He could see how both Mr. and Mrs. Trenton were still both surprised and baffled by Valerian's friendliness. Now that he took a closer look at Trenton's face...
"Wait a sec..." he whispered before he looked back at Valerian. "...is that the CEO of TIA?" he then asked in shock. TIA, Trans Interstellar Agriculture, one of the biggest companies in the entire sector when it came to fertilizer and agricultural products. They made more money each year than most independent colonies in decades
"Yes, I believe so." Valeria added with nothing but contempt in her voice. "But to think that someone who earns his money with manure is allowed to come to this party... it's another thing that will change in the next year."
She's already talking like she owns the place. Valerian thought. Still, if that guy was the CEO of one of the biggest producers of agricultural products, then...
That's when Valerian shook his head. He had no time to think about it. The next figure was a big man, easily one head bigger than Valerian. He had dark skin and a short, militaristic hairstyle. He was in his early forties and his hair started to show signs of gray. Even though he didn't wear a uniform, you could still see the years of military service that had formed both his body and mind. As Valerian stopped in front of him, a smile appeared on his face.
"Major Warfield! It is nice to finally meet you in person." He offered his hand to the bigger man, who grabbed it and gave it a quick squeeze.
"Thank you for your kind words, your Majesty. But I am no longer a member of the armed forces, therefore I shouldn't be addressed with that rank anymore." former Major Cedric Warfield explained. He was the son of Horace Warfield (though not many people actually knew that Warfield had had a family) and it had even been a surprise to Valerian when he had heard about him. He didn't know much about the man, though.
"I see." Valerian than said and looked into Warfield's eyes. While he resembled his father a lot, he lacked the General's piercing gaze. Valerian had always respected Warfield, he had been the man who had accompanied him to Char. And he had been the man who had fought the Zerg, and if people claimed that it had been Jim's Raiders who had won the day, they simply refused the fact that General Warfield and his leadership had been equally important to the overall success.
His death on Char had been a huge loss. They could really need a man of Warfield's caliber right now.
"Forgive me my curiosity, but what are you doing these days?" Valerian wanted to know. Next to him, Valeria started to "Hmpf" again. It appeared as if she didn't like the fact that he was having a conversation without her permission.
"I..." Cecil Warfield started to say. "...I am currently trying to find a new profession for myself. One that will be more satisfying and less... destructive." Well, that sounded somewhat cryptic.
"I see." Valerian said though he had no idea what Warfield was talking about. "Well, I wish you best of luck with that. But I am nonetheless happy to see you here. It is good that we finally meet. Your father was a great man and there isn't a day where I don't miss his experience and his advice." Valerian didn't miss how Cecil Warfield shuddered when hearing about his father. A painful expression appeared on his face.
"My father and I weren't exactly close." Cecil then said. "I have little doubt that you knew him better than I did. But... thank you." Okay, that was awkward. Like said; General Warfield had never told anyone about his family. Matt had been the first one to figure that one out. He had found the name "Warfield" after the end of the war in the database of the Dominion's military. If Valerian remembered correctly, Matt had even tried to recruit Warfield, offering him the position as the Admiral's advisor. But Warfield had declined that offer, and instead, Matt had picked a young and inexperienced man called Joseph Brent.
Perhaps it was better this way. From what Valerian had heard, Major Cecil Warfield's career inside the military had been an utterly boring one. He had never scored big points, he had never failed anyone either. It would be too harsh to call him "faceless", but when compared to the successes of his father, he was...well...
...he just wasn't Horace Warfield.
"Well, I do hope that you will enjoy today's festivities. Maybe we could talk a bit later on?" Valerian offered, but he could see that Warfield wasn't too fond of that idea.
"Yes..." the bigger man nonetheless said. "...that would be nice. And may God be with you, your Majesty." He then bowed his head and turned away. Hmm, what a strange choice of words, but oh well. In the end, it was Valeria who used a bit of force to make Valerian move again. The next group of people looked like a lot less fun. And of course, they were a lot more important than Warfield.
"These are members of the biggest property and real-estate fund on Augustgrad and close business-partners of my father." Valeria whispered to him. The only thing her statement lacked was the: So don't embarrass me! As they approached them, Valerian had to frown.
"Speaking of which; is your father here as well?" he asked. She looked at him as if he had gone crazy.
"Of course not!" she hissed. "My father is too busy to attend to these social events. He sent me in his place." Well, at least he wouldn't have to deal with the Iceberg personally. It didn't stop Valeria to "Hmpf" again.
Well, let's get this over with...
Valerian somehow managed to not embarrass either him or Valeria. Though her "Hmpf" started to sound like some kind of weird techno-song. "HmpfHmpfHmpfHmpf". That sound would probably haunt him in his dreams. The endless numbers of dignitaries and so-called "VIPs" were just not coming to an end, and at a certain point, Valerian's back started to hurt because of all that bowing he had to do. Valeria, however, looked like a fish in the water. Her smile was perfect, so where her white teeth. But by now Valerian felt just an icy chill running down his spine whenever he looked at her.
When they reached the umpteenth group of people, Valerian only noticed that they consisted of only two people, just like the Trenton's had. Though he doubted that they were a couple. He could only see the man's face. He was rather short. The woman behind him was much larger, but she had turned their backs towards him. She was rather... muscular, however, the dress she wore gave her an elegant appearance.
"Who are they?" he wanted to know. Valeria didn't answer immediately. Instead, she frowned and her face showed nothing but contempt. Even more contempt than when they had met the Trentons.
"Those are people who shouldn't be here. Outsiders. Barbarians." Valerian had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but when they reached the group, the small but bulky man made a step to the side and allowed Valerian to take a better look at the woman. When Valeria saw the strong, big figure in front of them, she just barely managed to avoid laughing out loud. To her, it looked like someone had forced a bear into a black dress.
"Hmpf, your Majesty, may I introduce-" Valeria started. But the woman just turned around and made a step forward.
"No introduction needed." the woman snarled and looked Valerian straight into the eyes. "We already know each other." Her voice was even frostier than usually. She looked at Valerian, then at Valeria and then back at him. The look on her face basically screamed; Yeah, thought so.
"Ambassador Curtland. It is a pleasure to have you here tonight." Valerian declared.
"Yeah, I bet it is." Leila Curtland replied with nothing but sarcasm in her voice.
The members of the kitchen-staff were actually not too unhappy about the fact that the Captain with the red hair had thrown them out of the kitchen. Not a single one of them had volunteered to work on Christmas. Oh no, instead of spending a few free days with their families, they had prepared food for two days straight. Most of them hurried towards the delivery entrance in order to catch some fresh air and have a smoke. Others used the break to go to the bathroom, and some managed to find a nice and calm spot to take a nap. And there were even some who simply decided to go home.
Gunther Olien wasn't very happy about this, though. To him, it was a goddamn nightmare. He too was a member of the staff, but he didn't work in the kitchen. Nope, he was a butler and his job today was to swarm the guests and make sure that they had everything they asked for. The job itself wasn't bad. They paid him well and, most importantly, he got his money on the first of the month. In times of a recession, it was an important thing to point out.
Of course, that didn't mean that his job was the best of all times. He had amassed so many extra hours within the last two months, he didn't even want to think about it. And his boss was a complete asshat. Oh, he wasn't talking about Valerian, he was talking about Chief Steward Hamilton. That guy was the worst boss of all times and a true martinet.
Plus, Gunther was certain that the old fart couldn't like him because he had made fun of him behind his back one time.
Hamilton had been pissed for two days now when they had told him that he and his people wouldn't be allowed tend to the VIP-guests inside the throne room. And of course, he had made sure that if he was in a foul mood, so was everyone else.
That's when Gunther had come up with the idea of forming a union.
"Gunther, go back to the kitchen and ask those idiots what the hell they think they're doing!" Hamilton had hissed to him while keeping a close eye on the buffet. "We are getting low on kilted sausages! This is unacceptable." he had told him.
No more kilted sausages. Unacceptable. That alone was reason enough to start another incursion into Umojan space, better not let the Emperor hear about this or he will order the fleet to move out immediately!
"I'm not responsible for the buffet, that's O'Mally's job!" he had protested. But of course, Hamilton hadn't cared about that one bit.
"I don't care one bit about that, Olien! Get to the kitchen and tell them to work harder! Get to it!" There were moments where you should stand your ground, and there were moments where you just should shut up and do as you were told. This was the latter kind of moment. And so, Gunther Olien had made his way back to the kitchen in order to tell the people that "Chief Stewart Hamilton wasn't pleased". Gunther already knew the answer he would receive. Head Chef Terrance would give him the finger and tell him to "sod off". But when he entered the kitchen, he couldn't see anyone.
"What the hell...?" he muttered, and for a moment he wondered if he was in the wrong kitchen. There were several kitchens inside the palace, so that wasn't impossible. But he could still see all the food they had prepared, so this had to be the right place. He looked around, but no one was anywhere to be seen. Just when he was about to turn around and look for the cooks, he heard a voice from behind a door.
"...all live in a battlecruiser...we all live in a battlecruiser...early in the mooooorning!" someone was singing from somewhere. Well, you couldn't really call it singing, it was more like "acoustic rape". Still, Gunther had to check it out. He followed the "singing" until he stood right in front of the wine vault. Huh, there was something inside? Singing? Oh, this should be good. He knew that the wine vault was off limits to anyone but the Head Chef and the Chief Stewart, so whoever was inside was in so much trouble...
Gunther opened the heavy door and the smell of wine and alcohol assaulted his senses. He made a step backward and shook his head. What the hell?
"...you think you're something else, lalalala...okay, so you're a Ghost-operative..." the man inside the wine vault sang. "...that don't impress me much. So, you got the stealth but have you got the touch? Lalalala..." Gunther had seen his fair share of drunken officers in the last couple of years. But this guy? This guy was on a whole different level. He sat on a box filled with what was probably the most expensive brandy in the entire sector while drinking from another bottle of equally expensive wine. A cold shudder ran down Gunther's spine when he realized that the bottle looked like it was really old. Like one of those bottles their ancestors had brought here from Earth itself...
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" he yelled both in shock and anger.
"DRINKING!" Brent yelled back at him as if this was a yelling-contest.
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" Gunther screamed in rage, but Brent didn't even realize that the man who had just entered the wine vault was not a tummler and that this was not on a bachelor party.
"BECAUSE I WAS TOLD TO!" Brent replied truthfully. However, Gunther had no time for this. He ran over to the Captain and ripped the bottle out of the skinny man's hands. Then he looked at the label on the bottle of wine and went pale.
"2021? Oh God, no..." he whispered, realizing that this man had just opened a bottle that was almost 500 years old.
"Yeah, wasn't so great. Kinda tasted like vinegar if you ask me...*burp*..."
"Have you any idea what you have done?!" Gunther hissed. But Brent, who just looked at his empty hand before grabbing another bottle from the shelf, started to giggle.
"Freed the world from just another horrible bottle of vinegar?" he offered.
"That bottle was almost 500 years old! It's from Earth! You know; Earth? The Earth? As in; Ancient Earth?!" Brent just shrugged his shoulders when he heard that.
"Meh, wasn't so great. Just like that whiskey I tried. Label said that it was over seven hundred years old. Tasted like seven-hundred-year-old crap if you ask me." When Gunther heard that, he could feel how his mind went blank.
"You just opened a Whiskey that's over seven hundred years old?" he whispered. "You monster."
"Like sai*burp*said... not so great anyway." Brent declared before he opened another bottle of wine and started to take another deep gulp from it.
"There will be dire consequences for this. I will call the guards! I will have them lock you up! Have you any idea how much money you have just burned simply by opening these bottles?" Gunther demanded to know. Brent thought about what Jim Raynor had told him once.
"Put it on my tab."
"That's it! I'm going to get the guards. You stay here, you barbarian!" Gunther then turned around and left the wine vault. He could hear the voice of Brent yelling something behind him, but it didn't make any sense to Gunther, so he chose to ignore it.
"Hey, yo! Should you meet a dark and beautiful snake-lady on your way out, send her right my way!" But then Gunther was gone. Brent, on the other hand, took another gulp from the bottle and looked around. There was no one around and when he looked at the bottle in his hands, he sighed in disappointment.
"See, Admiral..." he mumbled to himself. "...like I told you. it was just a hallucination." He then took another gulp and sighed. "Too bad, sure as hell was one nice hallucination. Oh well, to us then!" As he continued to drink more of that wine, he wondered if he should get himself some of Swann's moonshine. Maybe then he would have those nice hallucinations again...
But that was his problem. Gunther Olien had his own problems, even though they were all closely related to that idiot inside the wine vault. He could already imagine the look on the Chief Stewart's face once he would tell him that some buffoon had just opened bottles worth millions of credits.
"Forget about the Chief Stewart, I need to find some guards!" Gunther said to himself. There were some guards inside the ballroom. He had to tell them. On his way there, he didn't see anyone. But then there was something that caught his attention.
...it was an elevator-door.
He knew that door. He had passed it many times. There wasn't actually an elevator inside, and as far as Gunther knew, no one had ever used that damn thing. The buttons weren't working either, so no one had ever bothered about that thing anyway. However, now something was different. Because for the first time ever the door was open.
"What is this?" Gunther said to himself. "Which idiot is responsible for this?" He was certain that it hadn't been open when he had walked into the kitchen earlier on. So, had just someone opened the door while he had witnessed the destruction of priceless alcoholics? There were probably some technicians responsible for that, but even then...
"This is dangerous, people! You can't leave it open like that!" he snarled in anger. Seriously, at least put a cordon around it! If somebody trips or stumbles they might fall down that shaft. And he had no idea how deep that damn thing was. Speaking of which...Gunther walked towards the opened door and peeked inside. He had never seen the insides of an elevator shaft with his own two eyes, so he was kinda curious about it. But all he saw was darkness. Still, even as he looked down, he suddenly felt a strange kind of vertigo. He shook his head and made a step backward.
"God, this is dangerous." he muttered and shook his head again, but the sense of vertigo remained. It was strange, Gunther wasn't afraid of heights.
Drip...
Perhaps he should tell the guards that someone should keep an eye on this door.
Drip Drip...
Whew. He should try to calm down, it was hot as hell right now. Maybe he should return to the kitchen and get himself something to drink? A glass of cold water would be nice. And the sense of vertigo remained.
Drip Drip Drip...
He frowned when he finally noticed that dripping sound. It sounded like water falling down from somewhere. He looked up, but couldn't see anything.
Drip Drip Drip...
The sound came from below and he turned his head down. And indeed, he could see something on the floor. Some kind of liquid, only it wasn't water. Unless it was red water. Gunther frowned and wondered where the liquid came from. Red water? Was it some kind of hydraulic fluid? Did that even make sense?
Drip Drip Drip...
There was a lot of it right now. And he could see how the puddle beneath his feet became bigger and bigger. Some of it fell on his chest and he sighed. Oh no, that would ruin his entire uniform. The Chief Stewart would rip him a new one for that! He looked up at the ceiling. Where did that stuff come from? But there was no leak. The fluid seemed to come out of nowhere.
Drip Drip Drip...
That was when he felt something wet right below his nose, covering his mouth and his chin. He brought his hand up and touched his own face. Yes, there was some liquid on his skin. He pulled his hand back and looked at it. How...how did that fluid get there? And why was there...there...hydraulic fluid coming out of his...his nose and...
Perhaps there was some comfort to the fact that Gunther Olien didn't suffer too much. He had no idea what was going on, how could he? When the blood inside his brain started to clump together, he didn't feel any pain. Only a strange numbness. When his body started to fail him, he tried to figure out what was going on. But when his legs finally gave out on him and he fell into a puddle of his own blood, he still didn't know what was going on. The last thing he saw before his heart stopped beating were dark figures emerging from the open elevator shaft. However, by that time his brain was already gone. And the rest followed shortly...
"Target down." the Spectre whispered. The woman next to Dee nodded.
"Get out and clear the area." The dark figures emerged from the elevator shaft and secured the area. Aside from the body of the man, there was no one around.
"Clear!" one man said.
"Clear!" another one said.
"Good. Rest of the team; move up!" They all moved like one big organism. Like they knew what the other one would do. By now Dee knew that these guys were indeed as good as Hill had claimed. And three times as crazy. The corridor was empty and when Dee looked around, she tried to figure out where they were.
"Where next?" the woman in charge then asked. Now that they were out in the light, Dee could finally see them for the first time wearing their combat-gear. They wore black suits and carried all sorts of different equipment. Their faces were covered by strange, almost alien-looking helmets. But that wasn't the strangest thing...
Dee knew that sometimes soldiers, and especially mercenaries liked to "pimp" their uniforms and equipment. But these guys? The leader of the Spectres had attached several Zerg-teeth to her helmet. Now her helmet resembled some kind of Zerg-maw. Another Specter didn't carry a gun but had a long sword attached to his back. And the big man right next to Dee had a necklace with a lot of small bones attached to it. Dee was too nervous to notice the exact nature of the bones, but she knew that those bones weren't Zerg...
"Where next?" the leader hissed again. Dee blinked in surprise and finally regained her composure. Next to them, the big man knelt down beside the body of the servant and checked for a pulse.
"Gone." was the only thing he said. There was no emotion whatsoever in his voice. Dee shook her head and took a deep breath, clearing her mind.
"We're close to the kitchen, the ballroom, and the delivery entrance. We need to get to the latter and let the rest of my team inside."
"And then?" the woman wanted to know. A cruel smile appeared on Dee's face.
"Then we will show to the entire world what kind of coward their Emperor is." The leader of the Specter didn't show any reaction. Instead, she turned towards the big man still kneeling next to the body of the servant.
"Get rid of that." she just ordered. The man nodded and dragged the body over to the elevator shaft. Before he threw the body into the deep hole, he grabbed his knife and then the hand of the dead man. Dee's eyes widened in shock and disgust when she saw what he was about to do.
"Is that really necessary?" she whispered to the female leader of the team. She watched in horror as the male Specter started to cut through skin, flesh, and blood. With a swift move, he cut the index finger off the dead man's hand and put it into a small pocket attached to his belt. Only then Dee finally realized that those bones on the man's necklace were indeed finger-bones.
She decided to say nothing when the man finally grabbed the body and simply threw it into the dark shaft. It took almost half a minute before they heard the impact.
"Alright, let's go." the leader then said. "Mark, Hoil, close the door and get rid of the blood. Check the surrounding area and keep this place clear. It's our primary escape route. The rest; with me." She then turned towards Dee, who felt an icy shiver running down her spine.
"Lead the way." was the everything the Spectre said.