James

"Apostrophe indicates ownership. Or contraction. But here, it's ownership. "Mengsk's" Dominion." With an apostrophe." Jim stirred at this, legs tangled in the sheets, mind blurring with a mix of a half-forgotten dream, countless memories of combat, and the dull hum of the ventilation shaft pumping air into the room. It took a moment to get his bearings and sit upright against the bed board, squinting in the glaring light of his computer, against which was framed Miranda, sitting in front of the desk in nothing except black panties.

"Goin' through my mail again, darlin'?" Jim wiped his eyes with his forearm, the sweat parting from his head and attaching to it, glistening. "Nothing really worthwhile in there. Still wish you wouldn't."

Miranda looked back at him, expression somehow calculated, the eyes, barely visible when framed against the backdrop of light, narrowed and discerning. She said nothing, however, returning to the computer and scrolling past walls of text. Jim sighed and pushed himself off the bed, fully naked himself. He peered over Miranda's shoulder, head throbbing slightly, the sleep slowly falling away as the past two months asserted themselves over whatever surreal reality had occupied him in his sleep.

"Woke up, knew I couldn't sleep," Miranda said, voice clipped, obviously more focused on what she was looking at on the screen – comments to some video, Jim guessed. "Only two hours before we had to get up, anyway. Did some work, then ran out of work. Now I'm trying to gauge galactic opinion."

"And reading my emails." Jim kissed the top of her head to make clear he didn't really mind that much. She needs control. Tries to keep everything ordered. And hell, what emails do I really got that matter? "Hey Tychus, should we go get drinks?" "Hey Matt, maybe we should finally find out where Tychus been acquiring that rocket fuel?" "Dear Harper, how we gonna deal with the UED? Sincerely, Jim." That's about the scope of it. It's not like that's what really matters…

"This is the main video of Mengsk's execution," said Miranda, snapping the screen to the top, revealing the hideous thumbnail. Yeah, that's what I look like from the outside. Big black combat suit, skull on the helmet. Pointing a gun at a bound and unarmed man's head. Real heroic-like. "Guess what the top comment is?"

"I don't want to know." Jim turned back to his bed and looked for the digital clock. Alright. Seven in the morning. Gonna have to get up soon. "Something witty, let me guess?"

"Raynor warps in, kills the emperor, and-"

"That's not funny." Jim laid back down on the bed, staring up at the faded gold paint on the ceiling. These officer's quarters musta been a gilded sight in the Confederacy's heyday. Absentmindedly, he reached to his right for the bed stand, feeling for the hard pointed metal. He pulled it towards him, staring at the glinting Mar Sara Marshal badge, practically the only thing besides the suit he managed to take away from the planet. Back then, guess I stood for something clear. Even if I didn't like what I stood for too much. He placed the badge back on the bed stand gingerly, as if afraid it would somehow break at a single thoughtless touch, if he dropped it on the floor. The light from the computer snapped off, followed by padded footsteps. The bedsprings squeaked as Miranda climbed in next to him, grabbing his arm and pulling around her, resting her head against Jim's shoulder.

"You have about an hour. I have about ten minutes." Miranda craned her neck upward and kissed him on the cheek. "You got your revolution, you know."

"I always envisioned it bein', I dunno, a popular uprising." Jim looked down at Miranda, hugging her tightly to his chest. "Maybe the Citadel doin' something. I could get behind that, if it was done proper. What I got was…" Jim struggled to find the words. "…it wasn't what I thought I wanted. I … I put a gun to his head, Miranda, you know. And I think I felt more scared than he did, in the moment."

"If you didn't really want to do it, you should have called me over to do it for you." Miranda pulled herself out of Jim's grasp and kneeled over him, one side of her hair tucked behind her ear, the other tumbling down her shoulder. "Whatever else might happen, never think that what you did was a mistake. It was a bloody privilege."

"Yeah?" Jim pulled himself up as well, head resting against the headboard again. "I killed an unarmed man in front of his son without a trial. If … if my son was still alive, how would I explain that to him? How can I explain that to the people now gettin' their shit pushed in by the Directorate?" Jim heaved a deep breath. "I broke somethin', and I don't know what to replace it with. Sure as hell not the Earthers. Not the protoss, neither."

"That was never really for you to decide though, was it, Jim?" Miranda seemed to tower over him, face half in shadow through her hair. "I don't think anyone expected you to come up with a solution. Just to motivate. To fight. To persevere. People like you lead the charge. People like me arrange so that you have ammunition, and to arrange a swift cleanup and rebuilding afterwards. You don't have anything to really take responsibility for. Mengsk dying at your hand – your sense of right is well-known. A better outcome than had it been done by DuGalle." She lowered her head, staring closer at him. "Is this why you've been so quiet? Uncertainty? A guilty conscience?"

Jim opened his mouth and shut it again. Part of him, some remnant of his youth, marveled that he could actually feel anything than bliss while a mostly naked woman sat on his bed, while the rest … I just always envisioned what it would mean to see Tarsonis revealed to the galaxy, for Mengsk to die for his crimes. But … it's like Mengsk slid under the galaxy and held it up, made it worse but held it up. When he died, everything just fell and shattered to pieces.

"Have you ever wondered if there was a pivotal moment, Miranda?" Jim struggled to find the words, to dig through too many painful memories. "Like … some place where you coulda done something else, and everything from that point on would have been changed? Better? 'Cause I think you're right. People call me in to break shit and convince people it's for a good reason. I think that moment was when I decided to pick up a gun and fight for the Confederacy. Everything else is just … ripples followin' that decision. Shoulda stayed on Shiloh."

"Oh, get a grip, Jim." Miranda leaned down over him, making him shrink, only to kiss him fully on the mouth. Jim grabbed her back and pulled her in, holding her in place for a few seconds before she pulled away again, her hair forming a curtain around his head.

"You wouldn't have gotten that if you were still on Shiloh," she said, slightly breathless. "Where would Tychus be? Still frozen? Dead? Disgusting as that man is, I would not wish that on him. Where would Matt be? Still serving Mengsk? What about Saren? Another marshal would have shot him. Ignoring Tarsonis, for which I hope he burns in hell, his death would have had some severe repercussions for the planet and first contact with the turians." She shook her head. "Could list a lot of names here, Jim. Everyone on this ship is here because of you. And so far, they're still free." She lifted her head, shook out her hair. "And speaking as someone from the Old Families … I lost a lot of friends the day Tarsonis fell. Then the few I didn't lose died a few days later, when Mengsk cleaned up. A lot of people were fighting to be the one to pull the trigger, Jim."

"Thank you." Doesn't mean it was the right thing … but maybe there was a certain inevitability to it. Maybe something can still be salvaged out of this. And really … didn't I get what I wanted? Shouldn't bitch about it. "Sorry. Don't mean to be melodramatic."

"It was a big decision. It makes sense to have doubts about it. As I'm sure you had doubts when you first came to Moria after refusing Spectrehood." Miranda kissed him on the forehead. "First time I saw you. You weren't as tall as I expected."

"Yeah, I recall you not bein' too impressed at first." Jim chuckled. "Guess you changed your mind somewhere along the way."

"Just a bit." Miranda leaned down and kissed him again, this time lightly. Then she looked beyond him to the clock. "Hmm. A schedule to keep."

"Sure you can't be a little late?" Jim reached out, stroked Miranda's face with the back of a few fingers. She smiled down at him.

"We both know the answer to that." Yeah. I guess we do.

"Just give me a shout if Tychus and Xeltan are waiting anywhere outside." Jim leaned back turning a pillow over and burying his head. "For some reason they think this is hilarious."

"It's just insecurity. I think they have trouble internalizing just who the alpha male really is. They mask their fear with derision." I really don't know if she's joking or not. But, well … she's the one with the education, I guess.

"I'll see you in a bit." Jim turned over just in time to see Miranda open the door and exit, hair and Cerberus uniform slightly disheveled. Then the door slid shut again behind her and left Jim alone. Got about forty-five minutes. I'm sure no one would mind if I got up early. Sure as hell not fallin' asleep again.

Part of Jim felt awkward, just throwing on the same old shirt, jeans, and jacket combination he wore every day, even to a damn Cerberus meeting, the likes of which he had not been privy to for years. The rest didn't care. Ain't that just me? The folksy hero? Not gonna pretend to be something I'm not. And when it comes down to it, I am no Cerberus goon. He still brushed his hair though, just like his mama taught him.

While Miranda might have gone unharrassed upon her exit from his room, Jim was not so lucky. Jack waited outside, leaning against the wall opposite with her tattooed arms folded across her chest. Jim stopped and stared, waiting to see if today would be the day the woman decided to rip his head off for some unknown slight. Damn well hope not. She's been so well-behaved lately, aside from her and Tychus keeping Trome up at night.

"Hey," she said by way of greeting, sounding if anything a little anxious. She didn't say anything else, instead staring in a different direction.

"Anytime you're ready." Jim mimicked her own arms, resisting the urge to tap his foot. That's probably a bridge too far. Girl's got quite a temper.

"I don't like asking for help," Jack said, looking up into Jim's face without blinking. "Or advice. But … I don't know. Tychus doesn't know shit, which isn't surprising, and I'm left with my gut. That weird ass ghost, Tosh, he wants me in his Phantom group."

"That was the eventual deal, wasn't it?" Jim unfolded his arms and resisted the urge to yawn, lest Jack take offense. "Took you on board to get you to those folks. They know their psionics, and a lot of 'em are ex-Dominion. Their brains been under the microscope too. Why, is there a problem?"

"I guess." Jack shrugged, looking away again. "Look – I've run with a lot of bad people. Pirates, slavers, cults – you know. The usual suspects. The throwaway guys that get gunned down in video games and movies. Did it for money, for giggles, sometimes for no reason at all. Never felt safe, though. Never felt … happy." Jack fell silent for a little while, staring pointedly at a point directly a foot and a half to Jim's left. "I dunno. I think I'm happy here. I feel safe in my quarters. The people here are nice. Tychus brought me a golden head from one of Mengsk's statues. But … that was the deal, wasn't it? To pass me off to Harper's hit squad?"

"No. That wasn't the deal." Jim took another step forward, now standing directly in front of Jack, who frowned as she looked into his face. "The deal was that, if you wanted to go to his people, you could. They'd be able to look at that brain of yours, get you doing something useful and probably violent, and you wouldn't have to put up with this stupid ship no more."

"It's … it's not that stupid." Jack lost her nerve again, looking straight down at the floor. "Is it okay…" Jack coughed, and then unfolded her arms and straightened, barely reaching Jim's neck. Her fists balled. "I mean, I want to stay here. Just … just try and stop me." You almost sounded convincing there. It's alright. Not here to make you feel vulnerable.

"Alright, just let Tosh and his people know." Jim smiled at her, but she just snorted and left … although "fled" might have been the better word. Hmm. Hope that wasn't a mistake. Poor woman could probably kill everyone on this ship if she felt like it. Tychus, man, you better keep her happy…

Jim shrugged and went on his way, stomach rumbling. Wish I had time to stop for breakfast … but I get the feeling we got a short window to do this. Everyone wants to know who and where Harper is right now, don't they?

The distance between Jim's quarters and the airlock that would take him to the Icarus-8 space station was considerable enough that Jim headed instead for the turbolift, privately hoping that no one would occupy the lift with him. Just want to get this over with. Instead, as the doors slid open, he resisted the urge to sigh at the sight of a grinning Declan, who hurriedly beckoned him to enter.

"In a good mood?" Jim asked, trying not to sound half-hearted as he pushed the button for his declaration. "Usually I only see that smile when you get a paycheck."

"Communique from the wife," said Declan, his batarian baritone unusually joyous. For the life of him, Jim could not remember ever hearing a member of his species use that tone. "Protoss are dissolving the slaves and caste system, which means that even she were unmarried, she and the kids aren't at risk of becoming slaves. It means she can throw that bastard out. It means … I might be able to go home."

Jim slapped the batarian on the back, grinning up at him, mostly genuine. "I'd miss ya, man, but … that's great news."

"Wasn't sure how quick the protoss would move." Declan couldn't seem to stop moving, shifting in place and twitching his hands. "Or that they would keep their word, to be honest. Plenty of people, aliens and batarians both, always talked about ditching slaves. Or the caste system. Might have to find a new title for the Hegemon, now. "Anto, the Breaker of Chains," or something like that."

"Right." Jim stared at the door, waiting for them to open. "Just let me know if and when you need to make the trip. Kar'Shan is quite a ways away."

"Oh don't worry, I'll give you plenty of advance." Declan grinned down at him. "I … thank you for this, Jim. If you'd left me on Thessia, never would have got this shot. When this is all over, what do you-" The door slid open, a small crowd waiting on the other side.

"We'll talk later," promised Jim, stepping through the crowd, some of whom shouted greetings or lifted their hands in high fives, which Jim met with all the enthusiasm he could muster. Once through, he suppressed an inward groan once he saw who waited on the other side, smoking a massive cigar.

"Partner." Tychus wiggled his eyebrows. "Heard you had quite the night, last night. Me and Xeltan are happy for you."

"You waitin' out here just to torment me, Tychus?" Jim didn't bother stopping, knowing the bastard would follow him, perhaps even into the space station itself. Sure enough, the familiar ratting clanks of Tychus's footsteps echoed behind him as soon as Jim walked past him.

"Naw, Jimmy. I was waitin' for that Egon Stettman. Man knows his chemicals." Tychus puffed, making Jim glad he was not standing behind him, caught in a perpetual cloud of cigar smoke. Guess that answers the question about the rocket fuel. Might have to have a chat with Egon. "Then I see you go by and think, "Damn, that's one lucky man." I'm proud of you, Jimmy. It's hard work loosening up them uptight core world girls, to make 'em admit all they want is for someone to call "Daddy.""

"That's enough of that." Jim stopped in place and rounded on Tychus. "Alright? Don't need to hear that shit from you, don't wanna hear it. It's disrespectful. It's none of your business."

Tychus gave an enormous shrug of the shoulders, grinning wickedly through one side of his mouth while the other chomped on the cigar. "Just gotta say the word, partner. Still … li'l Jimmy Raynor. Marryin' on up."

"Don't think that's in the timetable, Tychus." She'd let me know if it was. Jim turned on his heel and continued on, half tempted to tell the dumbass to head back the way he came. How is he the dumbass? You're the one who saw fit to bring the bastard back. Now look at him … sauntering through the halls, making stimpacks out of rocket fuel, sleeping with a woman half his size and twice as psychotic. It's all my fault.

"So … meetin' up with that Harper fella?" Tychus sounded in no way deterred by Jim's anger, keeping up with the increasing pace of his walk and ignoring the stony silence with insulting ease. "Strange man. Least it seems like he knows what he's doin'. What do you think the next step is, partner?"

"Never thought there would be a "next step" after Mengsk died," said Jim through gritted teeth. "I'm not sure Harper ever did, either. Judgin' by the way things are goin', though, I guess we've all had to make some adjustments."

"Zerg. Reapers. UED." Tychus chuckled. "This what you brought me back for, partner? The alien apocalypse?"

"Brought you back because it was the right thing." Jim sighed in relief as he reached the threshold of the airlock, activating the door and turning to Tychus. "I gotta go to this meeting. I'll see you in a bit."

"Right. You just let me know if more aliens invade." Tychus shifted the cigar to the other side of his mouth and extended a hand, which Jim prepared to shake, only for Tychus to clasp it and pull him closer.

"You're the people's hero," murmured Tychus, eyes narrowed, tone curiously serious. "Don't forget that, Jimmy. A bona fide champion."

"Champions don't execute unarmed men, Tychus," replied Jim, pulling away. Tychus puffed on his cigar, eyes still narrowed.

"That's right, partner. They don't."

A chill went through Jim, settling in his stomach. He stared up at Tychus, mouth slightly open, brow furrowed, trying to find the words while his worms wriggled in his belly. Tychus just turned and walked away, leaving Jim in the smog, feeling as if he were about to vomit. You … you tried to stop me. At the last minute. Condemnation … from you, of all people?

Jim turned again and proceeded through the airlock, trying not to stagger. His body felt weightless while his head felt bulbous, misshapen, precariously perched atop something all too light. As the airlock cycled, he struggled to breathe, flexed his fingers, tried to bring some semblance of normalcy to his body and mind. Breathe. You need to get through this. What you did isn't going away. Shouldn't talk to people like that and expect … absolution. Understanding. Because it ain't entirely deserved. Now all we can do is deal with the aftermath.

Jim steadied, thoughts racing, turning back as far as Liddy, wondering what the hell she would have made of all this, to his parents, what they would have said … then moving forward again, to the Great War. Kerrigan. Saren. It should have been one of you to pull the trigger. What do they feel about this? Where are they now?

By the time the Icarus-8 doors opened, Jim strode through with little hesitation and only a slight bit of wobbling. Not the time for this, man. Take it. Take it like a man. Did Saren break down when you told him on Tarsonis ... huh. Here's the other side of all that righteousness.

People nodded to him as he went by, making Jim wonder if any of them remembered his original stop at this station, six years ago. Closing on seven, now. It seemed emptier now, and it had not been exactly brimming with life before. No sign of mercenaries. No Undertaker docked with them. Just a handful of Morians or whatever they would call themselves now, dressed in light blue maintenance uniforms, performing their menial tasks until the inevitable UED fleet arrived to claim their station and their jobs in the name of the glorious homeworld…

Jim could not help but snort as he approached the conference room. Duran stood beside a taped notice next to the door upon which was emblazoned, "Secret Cerberus Meeting: 8:15 a.m. – 11:00 a.m." beneath a golden Cerberus sigil, rather pointedly staring at Jim as if daring at him to laugh openly.

"Your doing?" Jim pointed at the notice.

"Ah, Mr. Raynor. It is well-known that I lack any manner of humor, and refuse to engage in such frivolity." Duran smiled at him, a great pearly white grin. "Rest assured, I will find the scoundrel responsible for this mockery of our great organization and administer an appropriate punishment. And fear not; I will take down the notice as well … once the meeting is over."

Jim nodded and smiled, the sickness receding somewhat. He waved at Duran in acknowledgment before passing through the door into the darkened room. Three rings of chairs, mostly unoccupied, surrounded a great table and QEC device. Guess Harper's not coming in person. Jim took up a seat in the front row, on the opposite side of Miranda, who gave him a small nod. Next to her sat Oleg Petrovsky, who was busy wiping his forehead, while a pair of men sat behind them in the furthermost ring of chairs, one with a shaved head, staring with curious eyes at the people around them, the other keeping his eye on the former.

Duran entered the room shortly afterward, taking a seat close to Jim's, smile visible even in the dim. Petrovsky stared at Duran momentarily with a frown before activating and fiddling with his omnitool, making the lights dim while the QEC lit up. When's the last time I've seen the man in person? When's the last time any of us have seen him in person?

A blue form appeared within the circle of the QEC, tall and impeccably groomed, wearing a black and white suit of now endangered Morian fashion. He turned in place, nodding, checking to see who was present. His eyes momentarily focused on Jim, who gave him a thumbs up to no apparent acknowledgement.

"It's a pleasure to see you all again," said Jack Harper, nodding once, placing his hands behind his back and straightening. "I apologize for the relative lateness of this meeting, as well as being unable to appear in person for both the death of Mengsk and this gathering. I am sure you can all understand why." Yeah. The UED doesn't seem to know much about you. Chalk it up to Confederate secrecy and Dominion desire to erase all record of you existing. Wonder how many people would've even believed there were still major Confederate elements resisting Mengsk. Jim turned his head toward Miranda. Even an Old Family member still kicking.

"Regardless of the … various states terran nations have found themselves in since their founding, at the very least they could claim sovereignty over themselves," continued Harper, turning in place, trying to address everyone. Maybe I should've sat with the others, so he wouldn't do this? But … I'm pretty sure Duran would just stay here. So it doesn't matter. "As of two months ago, that has changed. The Kel-Morian Combine and Terran Dominion have been subsumed by the earthborne Directorate, and the Independent Terra Systems Alliance is now held under the unsteady sway of the protoss." Don't tell me they didn't earn that. I love 'em, but there's only so long you can thumb the nose at everyone around you.

"This leaves only the Umojan Protectorate, who have strengthened themselves by allying with the quarians and asari; desperate measures perhaps, but their government and borders remain unchanged. They stand firm against the Reapers and UED both, and remain free to go about their business without protoss supervision." Harper paused, rubbed his eyes, and continued. "I … I intended to retire once this was done, as I did just before the Great War. Mengsk's atrocities have been exposed and avenged … and I understand that Chau Sara needs a new magistrate." Harper glanced at Jim, eyes sad. "The reason they need a new magistrate, sadly, is because the old one fell afoul of the sector's new masters. The United Earth Directorate. They also seem quite keen on discovering my whereabouts. I do not think they have anything benevolent in mind for me. For any of us in particular, but something about Cerberus seems to make Alexei Stukov anxious."

"So there will be no retirement." Oleg, sounding relieved. "But then … what is the plan?"

"What is the situation?" replied Harper, gesturing to the table before the device. At Oleg's activation of the omnitool, the table lit up with an overview of the galaxy entire, sections shaded to indicate ownership. Harper pointed to a gray area outside the Koprulu Sector. "Here. Tuchanka. Umoja reports that a sizable UED force has arrived and began to make overtures to Clan Urdnot." Harper inclined his head towards Jim. "I believe we can guess their intentions. The UED wishes to unite the krogan race and perhaps cure the Genophage. They seem to be met with about as much success as the Umojans so far, but I understand that Wrex has recovered from his injuries and will be touching down shortly. That might change things." Huh. Wonder if he'll be bringing Grunt and his "mom." A slight tinge of melancholy settled over Jim. A shame. Might end up facing off against Anderson and Shepard. Didn't seem like the worst people.

Harper pointed and drew a line through blue space, former ITSA space. "Protoss control the ITSA, and most of their worlds have been hit with the Reapers. Korhal as well. Approximately 300,000 ITSA citizens and about 2,000 UED troops have been abducted for some purpose. There is also indication that the Reapers have a vested interest in locating and harvesting zerg and protoss tissue." Harper shrugged. "If anyone has any ideas as to why, I would appreciate knowing." He looked to the two men in the back. "Archer. KMC report."

"The Hegemony and Terminus still have their Waygates," said the man on the right, the one with the unshaven head, rising and pushing down on the shoulder of the other. Ah. Gavin Archer and his brother. "So they'll be alright at least. But the rest? Massani's missing and Santiago's sold out to the UED and is now openly plundering Moria with his Blue Suns with their blessing, Kelham's on the other side of the galaxy keeping Aria's seat warm while I've got his family hidden, Hock's presumed dead and his children are definitely in UED custody, and I've got Stukov breathing down my neck." Gavin gritted his teeth. "My Mobius Corps is probably the most advanced KMC outfit, but there's still no way we can oppose the UED. I'm going to be forced to place myself at their disposal. From what I can tell given the situation in the Dominion, this will probably mean quelling civil uprisings and putting all infrastructure towards a war footing."

"Gentlemen," said Duran, rising from his seat and apparently surprising Harper, who rounded in place to meet him. "While I understand the fear you feel in the face of the Directorate's grip, I believe we are losing perspective here. The Reaper threat is mounting, as Korhal has made abundantly clear, and the zerg have returned. Let us not forget the larger picture amidst the smaller terrors and petty grievances. We must devote our time and resources towards the greater enemy before the lesser can be defeated."

"Duran is right," said Miranda, making Jim raise his eyebrows. She rose without fear, looking Harper right in the eye as he sighed and turned again. Duran smiled widely at her. "We almost lost everything on Thessia because people would not stop fighting. The protoss are now holding a knife to the throat of the galaxy unless we pull ourselves into order. Trying to overthrow the UED at this juncture, even thinking about it…" Miranda shook her head once. "No. Harper, I know your location is secure and remote. Moreover, I know you can do a lot of good for the anti-Reaper cause. And I think you should."

"I did not oppose Mengsk just to see an even worse regime replace him." Harper wringed his hands, looking, for the first time since Mar Sara, suddenly quite agitated and uncertain. "Duran … Ms. Lawson … we have seen the reports. People are vanishing in UED territory. Uprisings are being quelled with frightening force and efficiency. Worse, for all their cruelty, the UED is also installing governors, building and rebuilding hospitals and farms … they are rendering entire planets at a time dependent on their medicine and farming techniques, and all the while people disappear."

"It was worse when Mengsk took over," said Miranda stubbornly. "Entire families disappeared, then. A planet as well, remember? We might not ever get a fully benevolent regime in the Sector, and the UED are despicable racists besides, but we cannot keep shooting for some utopia on the horizon. The Reapers are here, to some extent. The zerg are back. We've had our revenge. It's over. Time to move on."

"With all due respect, Ms. Lawson, that is a hard sell." Gavin Archer looked to his brother, who was busy on his omnitool, completely disinterested in the discussion. "Some of us could lose a … a great deal by knuckling under. Some of us already are. Are we supposed to just take it for the "greater good?"" Gavin paused and sighed. "Ah. Whatever our eventual decision, I will do my best to conduct damage control. Kelham's children will remain safe with me. If the UED press the issue and begin putting their nose where it does not belong, I will retaliate."

"Jim?" Harper now looked to Jim, eyes almost pleading. "Do we turn the other cheek, here?"

"You want to piss off the protoss, man?" Jim shrugged irritably. "I think they've made their thoughts clear: so long as people aren't doin' undue damage and are preparin' for the coming apocalypse, they're okay. We act against the UED, we stand in the way of Reaper preparation. Of the protoss."

"But you could talk to them, tell them of Earth's history!" Harper sighed. "They trust you … but no. I can see your point, Duran. Lawson. Jim. This is not the hour of rebellion."

"Your mood is dark, but I have good news!" Duran's brightness seemed to wear on Harper, who frowned as his eyes flicked towards his subordinate. "I cloaked and observed the primary zerg creature upon Korhal. An infested asari, if I am any judge. Moreover, I … marked it, so to speak. It has a very distinctive psionic signature."

"This is a new talent of yours, Duran," said Harper, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Again and again, it seems you find ways to surprise me."

"My means are subtle, and I prefer to hide my hand." Duran's smile had vanished now, any trace of warmth in his eyes likewise gone. "She is a beacon to those who know what to look for, and fear leaked from her every thought. The trail leads to Umoja. And there it moves elsewhere, to empty space." Duran laughed. "The Umojans have, of course, reported the descent of the leviathan and its subsequent crash. "All survivors terminated," they say, and they even invited the protoss to inspect and remove the remains. The protoss are mostly satisfied and move on in search of this elusive asari. I think I know where to go."

"Again I am both baffled and awed by your abilities and acumen, Duran," said Harper, making Jim suck in a breath. Something's off, here. "Let me guess: you wish to pursue this target. Alone."

"I am your dutiful servant, Mr. Harper." Duran still did not smile. "I am the hidden blade. Send me, and I will bring you back word on the zerg, and perhaps the allegiance of the Umojans. You may squint all you want at me, but I will bring you results. As I always have."

"Then you may as well begin now. I will debrief you later. You are dismissed."

Duran smiled (or rather, bared his teeth,) lowered himself into a sweeping bow, and then exited, squeezing Jim's shoulder on the way out. He's really not the worst guy … for a ghost. The conference room remained silent save for Duran's quiet footsteps, the door sliding shut behind him almost seeming loud in comparison.

"Ms. Lawson, have you made any headway into uncovering our good friend's true past?" Harper stared at the door Duran had exited from, his body totally still. Miranda only shook her head.

"Everything is contradictory or outright false. For all I can tell, he showed up out of the blue during the Great War to offer his services. At the very least, he has proven an asset."

"Yes. Quite the asset." Harper's eye twitched. "Something is wrong with the man. Ms. Lawson, should he go AWOL or outright act against us, I am assigning you to take him out. Understood?"

"You really think that's necessary?" Jim did not stand, but still met Harper's gaze with his own without blinking. "We're all running from somethin', aren't we? Why can't we just leave the past be. He's proven himself time and time again."

"His words and actions are not consistent with someone who claims to be "barely worthy of notice," Mr. Raynor," said Miranda. You'd never guess we were sleeping together just a few hours ago, from the tone she's using. "Tosh has indicated great distrust of him, and says he does not believe he is a "5" on the psi scale. If it comes to it, Mr. Harper, I will take care of him." Well … you'll try. Darlin', I know you got tricks up your sleeve, but how precisely do you plan on taking him out, if he's more powerful than he says he is?

"I nevertheless agree with his sentiment, however reluctantly, about the Reapers." Harper sounded tired. "I am told that the Council had dispatched Spectres to follow up on the terrorist attacks, and that some progress has been made. No idea how much, however. That leaves us with a handful of leads … and little else." Harper's tired tone turned to outright resignation. "It seems we must assist the UED, for time being. For all my reservations, they did kill Mengsk, and they are preparing against the greater threat. Petrovsky!" Petrovsky almost jumped at this. "Would you kindly dispatch a team to Kar'Shan? Archer can give you his blessings to get the batarians to talk. I need to discover just where they found the Leviathan of Dis, as well as any clues as to how it eventually ended up flying into a sun. Duran's investigations turned up little, but…"

"I can certainly try, sir."

"Archer – we must hold the line here, in Morian space. Save who we can, prepare for the inevitable." Gavin nodded grievously at this, fear alive in his eyes. Then Harper turned to Jim.

"Jim, I need you to speak to the protoss. Convince them to stem the tide of UED purges if possible, otherwise just assist them in their ongoing investigation. It may be worth contacting Sarah Kerrigan … even if the thought makes me ill. Miranda, remain with Jim for the time being." Huh. Finally have a reason to maybe meet her in person again. Been a long time … not sure I want to. Might be fun to show Tychus the Citadel. He smiled briefly at Miranda before stopping quickly. All business right now. All business.

"And I suppose Duran will handle the Umojans and zerg." Harper closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly reminding Jim of the night they had stood together in his office, having just fended off the zerg. Tired. So tired. But still strong. "Destroying the Reapers is the long term goal, but I'm not sure how much we can do. If we can discover the base of their servants, or the damn things themselves, maybe a weakness, we can begin to work on it. At present, all we can do is investigate, prepare, and try to mitigate the damage from Earth. Are there any questions?"

'Course there are questions. Just none you'd have answers to. "What's gonna happen? Is everything going to be okay?"

"This is the protoss's show for now." Harper folded his arms back behind him once more. "Give me updates. As we receive more information, more can be done. For all my misgivings, at least I have faith that Duran will turn up … something. Good luck."

Harper disappeared and the lights came on. Guess it didn't last 'till 11 a.m. after all. Probably because Harper didn't get to strike against the UED like he thought he would. The anxiety and nausea came back as he stood. Shit. There really is no easy way out of this, is there? It ain't about a revolution any more. Whole galaxy's gotta stand against what's coming, and all I can think about is … Mengsk … and Stukov.

They left in ones and twos, Petrovsky and Miranda leaving together (to Jim's slight irritation,) the Archers departing as a familial unit, leaving Jim the last to leave, alone.

The notice remained besides the door. Jim ripped it off with only slight hesitation, feeling weirdly guilty for doing so. He felt only a little surprise when Duran appeared from behind a corner, smiling again.

"Thank you for supporting me, my friend." He bowed low, the smile genuine this time. "And … I appreciate the trust. I understand the conflict raging beneath the surface. It is a difficult thing to commit to, trying to do the right thing at all costs. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and I have no intention of betraying our mutual friend, but should Miranda be given cause to hunt me down, I will take every measure necessary to spare her life." The smile did not falter, but something now burned behind Duran's eyes, something that made the hysteria rise in Jim's throat. It was the same kind of fire Jim had seen in Harper on this station years ago, a resoluteness and passion that never went hand in hand with compromise. On the one hand … it's scary. On the other … isn't that what we want in allies? Knowing that they will stand with us, always? That they truly believe in what we're doing? Duran extended a hand, which Jim shook hesitantly.

"Now … we both have our duties, my friend. Let us attend to them."

Next Chapter: Wrex