A/N: Special thanks to mbh040, FtDLulz, OMAC001, KhazintheDark, Dracona Mortis, DaLintyMan, izwan, On Q, and mivpus for reviewing last chapter! Your support means everything to me, and I truly appreciate it!

Sorry about the wait. My computer died, my three backups all failed, and I have had to do all typing on public computers in-between my busy school hours. My school year is ending, so I am pretty busy at the moment but I felt I must release a chapter for you all. This was supposed to be done 2 weeks ago but the above made that not happen.

I hope you all enjoy and that I may hear what you have to think in the reviews below!

(Present Time, Captain O'Shannon, Battlecruiser Jacks on Halcyon)

"Sir, Stahd's forces are trying to make contact."

A week goes by and we're still tracking down the Zerg. Every time we are about ready to confirm their extinction on this planet, another decides to rear its ugly head. What's worse is that we have located Zerg belonging to different broods…just how bad is this problem if there are more than one brood on the planet? Had more Zerg come that we do not know about, even before the Zerg vessel we defeated?

I had not slept much these past days with our constant minor run ins with Zerg all over this continent with no real pattern to their appearance. I am not in any mood to deal with a recalcitrant fool like Stahd.

"Is that sniveling brat pissed I broke his nose? Ignore them."

It takes a moment, but my helmsman turns back and breaks the nice silence that had set in.

"They are continuing to reach out."

Okay, I am about done with this idiotic ally known as Stahd. He could die for all I care at this point.

"Prepare my shuttle. I may need to make another trip," I say jokingly to my crew. I know that it would not likely work a second time, as well as take too long to be of any practical use.

My subordinates turn our transmission screen on and Stahd's marred and bruised pretty boy face pops on there. I have to do my best to not just laugh at how ridiculous he looks with medical tape over his still busted nose.

"What is it, Stahd?"

As soon as I say this I can hear Battlecruiser gunfire coming from his ship. It's official, he is terrible at his job and I swear I am going to ask the permission of Lord Mengsk to kill him and all of his similarly bastardly subordinates only to hand their heads to the rebels as a peace offering. I am done with him. He's shooting at unwitting civilians with a Battlecruiser no doubt.

"Those damn rebels have Raynor's Raiders helping them now!"

The rebels have not brought any sizeable force into the area, or else I would have heard about it. That means they only have a small force fighting this fool. It should be simple to flush them out and kill the rebels, "And?"

"You are a soldier of the Dominion! Help us!" he whines furiously.

I fail to see how that means I should stop trying to complete my own much higher importance task to assist him in quelling a rebel group he is likely causing to grow, "Is it not your job to handle them?"

"They have overcome our forces on the outskirt towns and cities!"

How hard was it to round up a few raiders and execute them behind closed doors? "How nice for them. Tell me, how many more forces do you have here than them?"

"Hundreds, but—"

I cut his pathetic excuse off before he could harm my ears with it, "Do your job. I have clean up to do," a devilish thought crosses my mind, "How's the nose by the way?"

"You arrogant son of a—"

With the snap of my fingers my men turn the screen off. Such a shame that we have scum like this representing the Dominion.

"Transference at its finest."

I really ought to ask Mengsk about court martialing or possibly summarily executing this bastard. After I finish mopping up the Zerg that is.

(Present Time, Tessa'Fash POV, Halcyon)

We have had enough time to encroach ourselves in the area, though I feel as if at any moment the Terrans will just rain down fire upon us and wipe us out once and for all.

Our workers and scouts have been found and eliminated at points, so I am doing my best to send workers and scouts to do meaningless work elsewhere to take the scent off of our real operation. By about now Abathur may have rebuilt his forces enough to confront us, though that is only if he remains alive and if the Terrans are not harassing him as much as they are us.

However, I was promised progress today that could mean our departure in the almost immediate future.

"Dan, update me about our project."

My associate had already prepared a transforming Zerg for me when I approached him. I have been kicking around ideas in my head about names for them, but I cannot decide if Mimics or Changelings is the better name.

The purple blob creature is not exploding into organs and bone, so already it is an improvement. Dan has it take the form of a common Terran as demonstration to its ability.

"This new being can only transform once, is limited to taking Terran form, and has no natural impulses. A blank slate."

I nod, but cannot help but expect it to explode its disgusting body onto me.

"What about the lifespan?"

Dan speaks proudly of it, as if he really likes how it has evolved, "This particular mutation has lasted the past day, and should last longer, but I am continuing to test it. It is capable of scouting at this very moment however."

Very well then...that is what I needed. I have had enough damn sitting around, so it is about time I played marionette.

"Make a new one and I will take it out to play."

Five stocky fingers that I can wiggle per hand…five toes on each of my two feet that I can similarly move about with splendor…

A mouth to speak with rather than just my mind, having no arms sprouting from my back, no second abdomen weighing me down…

Hell, I should even appreciate what else I've been granted. I can actually feel through this Mimic's distorted body the different sensations I have been long cut off from with my own distorted body and thick carapace.

The feeling of having a human body…

"Miss?"

Why does this feel so wrong? I make this creature appear just like my original body, or as similar as I could remember. Some embellishments may have been made.

"Miss? You okay?"

I stop running my hands over my body and turn in the town I have infiltrated to where this male is speaking to me from. He's an old fellow, though his eyes seem as if they could fit on a teenager.

That is to say that they are having an issue raising above my chest. Old lech.

"What is it?" I ask him with obvious disgust, hoping he takes the hint.

He doesn't sadly, "You seemed to be looking for something. Need a hand?"

I may have been turning my head and looking around, but I was testing my vision. It is surprisingly good for being human, though I suppose since the organ itself is Zerg that it would just be superior.

Still, despite my distaste of this man I suppose I could use his perversion to my own personal gain, "Yes, you may lend me assistance. Is there a library in this town?"

He seems more happy to help than he should be, "Why right across town, down this very road."

I can put up with his stupid behavior for a little longer, even if my chest has to be gawked at in the meantime. Why didn't I see this coming? At least I remembered to morph with clothes, "Good. Does it have access to computers?"

"I wouldn't know, it's not someplace I go all too often. Good luck missie!"

I leave him without another word, desiring to get this over with as soon as possible. Once I have the direction to go in the small town I find the library, and upon entering the very male librarian by the entrance has a similar reaction to the old geezer on the street.

"May I help you, young lady?"

"No," but keep your eyes to yourself. You know, I didn't made this body exaggerated in some regards to gain favors, and I am not comfortable having any of the living gawking at me.

I walk past the front gate and instantly find a series of computers. I, or rather the Changeling I am directly controlling, sits down at one that is facing away from the majority of the library. The place is almost empty, but I feel uncomfortable with the idea of others watching me look my own name up lest it make them suspicious of why I look like one of the worst mass murderers who have ever come from this planet.

'Emily Swallow' is what I put into the computer's internet web service to search, and I hope to gain some kind of meaningful result. The screen quickly scans the internet for results pertaining to that, so it's up to me to filter them.

Search results by chronological order…

Young and successful lawyer Emily Swallow to become new judge in place of the deceased Confederate—

'Flesh-render' killer Emily Swallow, Jr. caught; family thought to have turned her in—

—court system corrupt enough to allow judge Swallow to persecute daughter in murder trial—

Emily Swallow Jr. sentenced to life in prison for her heinous crimes to seven men confirmed thus far, with three more possible victims being investigated. Talks about the death penalty or neural resocialization—

They were guilty, damnit! They all were and they deserved to feel what it was like to have someone get under their skin.

Pro-Dominion magistrate candidate Rivers killed under suspicious circumstances, leaving rival Judge Swallow to take the position—

—Judge Emily Swallow becomes magistrate with almost no opposition despite questionable rise in power—

"Magistrate?"

Oh that loathsome bitch. Was deciding life and death in a single court not good enough for her?

I was going to wait, but I can't now.

Location, location, location…oh how useful the internet can be.

Of course. Our capital city. So fitting for the nice life she made for herself after ditching me.

Someone owes me a favor. A huge favor. After what she did to me I deserve that much.

I'm not smiling anymore.

(Present Time, Magistrate Swallow, Halcyon)

Those raiders are damn good at their job, even if that Raynor asked for his flask back. Damn thing didn't have enough alcohol to even edge someone near cirrhosis, so it's not too much of a tragedy.

Besides, he's too poor to actually afford any decent alcohol. I bet the bartender on his ship is from the Dominion and is purposefully giving them the worst alcohol there is just to lower morale.

Morale…pfft, as if I have any myself. I'm alone in my office with my head on my arm with one hand around a glass of expensive wine. I can't even tell how long I've been in this room, or what time it is.

"Hello mother."

I weakly raise my pounding head to look up. This isn't the first time I've heard that in years…

My sight might be blurry, but having a blonde woman standing in the doorway was enough to convince me I should play out this drunken stupor or whatever this is, "How much have I drank?"

The blurry woman with my daughter's voice closes the door behind her and crosses the room. My head sinks down like a rock just as she reaches my desk, and I realize I don't really want this fantasy to take place.

I feel the glass taken from my hand and I am too sluggish to resist, but I do look back up to find Emily looming over me with narrowed eyes. Since when could hallucinations take things from you physically? Did I just fall asleep this time?

Emily's voice is quiet, yet cutting as she speaks, "Enough. Tell me, does drinking make you feel better?"

Oh, another guilt trip dream. As if I haven't had those the past few thousand nights, "Did skinning those men make you feel better?"

She pauses, mewling over her thoughts before sliding the glass back to my hand.

"Once upon a time, yes, it did. Murdering those rapists was so…" she gives a small shiver of what seems like pleasure, "liberating. Starting with that bastard with his roofies that didn't knock me out long enough."

As wrong as it was that she killed those men, I cannot mourn them. Emily had gotten their names from my computers at work, cases of men who raped women and got away with it...back then I could not accept what she was doing, but to think that now I am working with vigilantes makes me feel even sicker. Oh how things have changed.

I move my hand, but I don't grab the glass, I reach and grab her outstretched arm. She doesn't pull her arm back in time to prevent me for gripping her sleeve.

I can feel it…this is weird. Why can I actually feel her?

The sleeve though…a conservative, completely unrevealing shirt. Fitting…

I remember when she came to me with blood spattered over her. She was laughing hysterically and couldn't even seem to notice what was going on around her. I didn' know it then, but she had broke…

Instead of my adorable, naïve daughter who I loved dearly I had this shell. An empty young woman I didn't even recognize.

I clench her arm as tightly as I can. Tears are streaming down my face just as they always do, but I cannot resist them and my eyes gush far more than they should, "Killing them made you little better. Baiting them in bars and then murdering them. Heinous men, but you could have just reported them. Left it to the justice system."

Despite my grip, Emily still manages to tear her arm away from me. She turns her back to me and leans back on the desk, one that I remember her once being just as tall as…

"You're right. I still find it funny that you ended up as the judge on my case. Conflict of interests and all," Emily quips.

I…

We had never had a reason to pass a law about it in our small settlement. Most planets have them of course, but our perfect little world never had anything go wrong on it…just about ever. Oh how I miss those days.

Emily continues, her face now tilting back towards me as her voice grows increasingly hostile, "You didn't even have enough evidence to convict me, but you pulled your strings to have your own daughter convicted and locked away. Have her brain rewired."

What does this semi-hallucination want me to say? Lying won't change what happened, nor will telling the truth…

I turn back to my lowered arm and cry into it. As right as I was it will never feel that way, "I knew you were guilty. I was the one who cleaned the blood off of you when you came home in shock after the first one. I covered that up for you and tried getting you help, but you just had to go on a killing spree."

Why did it have to happen to my poor girl? She had never hurt anyone, quite possibly never having harmed a fly. But whatever that man did made her snap…it killed my daughter long before the Zerg did.

She pauses again. I say nothing as I continue to cry into the inside of my elbow. I hate these talks, even if some of them take place in the court room, some of them in the bath I cleaned the blood off her in…

She is the one to speak up first. She turns around and leans over the desk so that her face is patronizingly looking down at my own, "You aren't going to ask how I'm here now?"

I roll my head over to its side so I can look more fully at her. I'm met with a nice view of her face and chest. I sometimes wish she hadn't had much in the way of either. Then I wouldn't be in this situation. She wouldn't have snapped.

"I'm drunk. We've had this talk before. Usually it's by your empty grave though."

Emily looks over to the bottle I have been drinking from today only to find that it is not lonely. Other bottles are lined up by it, and I cannot even tell when they are from. Earlier today? Yesterday? This week?

"When did this start?" she questions, taking the only partially full bottle into her hands.

I sit up and rub my eyes. I might not remember when I downed these stupid bottles of wine, but I can remember when that was.

"The moment I sent you away. I wish it was how you had coped."

Emily puts the bottle down before frowning down at me.

"Mother?"

She never calls me that when I see her…

Emily crawls on top of the desk and moves across it so that she is both beside and looking down at me, "You may not have meant for it, but I had the best time in my life while I was neutrally resocialized."

What? How could that have been a good thing?

"I went from wanting to kill every man I saw to having the best friends of my life all be men," Emily sighs remorsefully and brings a hand to her chest, "I fell in love with one even."

This…this I do know. Or at least I could assume given what I found out about her travels. Half the reason I did everything I could to gain power was so I could look after her from afar. Even then I couldn't prevent her from dying…

Now the only friends she's had have been reported dead by a slew of citizens on Suuran or wherever they were. Fighting the Zerg to save people. The opposite of doing injustice…

I scoff, "That crime lord's boy. How the apple fell far from the tree there."

Emily continues to frown, now shaking her head, "His father is actually a good man. I wish he wouldn't be receiving news of his son's death soon."

I suppose my hallucination would have the same knowledge as me about the mercenaries and their deaths…my poor Emily at least died before her friends, even if it was in a terrible way.

"Why couldn't you just be normal? Like a normal boy? Live a normal life…"

Emily rolls her eyes at me and shifts on the desk, "I'm sorry I couldn't be your perfect daughter. I was a timebomb waiting to be set off, and I went off with quite the bang."

I can't remember any previous sessions being this long…normally my dreams drift off to other torment by now.

"Why are you here haunting me? Can't I just drink in peace?"

Emily swivels around and hangs her legs off the table on either side of me so that she is completely facing me. This done, she leans down and brings a hand underneath my chin and cheek.

"You feel that?" she asks, and I absently nod. I can feel her…the warmth soothes me in a way my bottle friends never have.

"I'm no ghost. I'm not dead."

But…she's touching me and it is her voice, but how is that even possible?

"How? Liberty's report said—"

Emily cuts me off curtly, "He was wrong. Now, you're a person of great wealth and influence here. I need a ship to get off the planet. A big one, and I need it to be pilotable by someone who hasn't flown any ships since 2499."

I stopped caring at 'wrong'. I get up and force my arms around her tightly. To my surprise she doesn't struggle, though she does not return the embrace. After our history though I wouldn't blame her for having come with a gun.

My daughter is alive…she came back to me…

"Emily," I sob into her shoulder. I better be awake…this had better be real…

I pull back so that I can look into her face. My blonde hair sitting on her head is all I need to know that this is the girl I would give anything for, "I missed you so much. Please don't leave me. Please stay here. I promise I'll do anything, just don't leave me again."

Emily pulls back as well, fighting my grip a little as she does so, "I'm sorry, but I have something I have to do."

My quickly growing heart shatters at her words. She is only here to ask for a way to leave…

But, she didn't need to come see me. She could have found another way, no? Maybe she misses me too…

"Will you come back?" I ask through even stronger tears than before. I've done enough…I can't bring myself to fight back against her. Not after all this time.

Emily pauses.

"Someday. I promise."

I lean into her and bring her into another hug. This may be the last time I see her, despite the promise she just made.

"I'll do whatever you need. I—" I rub my own pathetic eyes and let out a small sniffle, "I just want you to keep your promise to come back, okay?"

I feel an arm snake around my back…then another around the back of my head and hair.

"Okay."

A/N: Ahhh, been waiting to do that awhile. Hope you enjoyed, and please leave your thoughts in the review box below!

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