The man flicked his cigarette into the ground, crushing it with his foot. The
tiny flecks of charred tobacco spilled out onto the hard concrete.

"Ah, man!" a marine pushed the man forward. He stumbled hard, and turned around,
growling.

"What?" he said, stepping forward to confront the marine.

"Come on, man! That was my cigarette! You said you wanted a smoke, so I let
you borrow it, and you only smoked half! You owe me!" the marine said.

"So I did," he shrugged, settling back down in his hard steel gunner's seat.
Looking out, he could see the sun casting rays over the horizon, light bouncing
off the huge array of tanks, soldiers, and mobile fortifications. Metal upon tons
of metal, steel and barrels shining in the sun.

"What's your problem, man?" the marine asked, walking over to the gunner. The
marine lay his Impaler carefully against the railing and sat down. The servos in
his suit whirred for a second, and then were still. The gunner noticed a small
green light painting information onto the marine's retina.

The gunner looked at the marine for a second. A tall, but clumsy looking man
in a suit of reinforced titanium steel. A Gauss rifle 'Impaler' class hung
constantly by his side, connected to his suit with a long chain of metal
shards. The gunner saw the name briefly on the nametag, 'Pr. Barkley'.
They both knew that within a month, the marine would die a horrible death.

Of all people, Murdoc knew most of the ways a marine could die, in and out
of battle. Murdoc had seen marines die as zerglings ripped them apart,
Zealots impaled them, Vultures blow them apart, and thousands of other ways
a marine could meet his maker. A new book had been released a while back,
"101 Ways an Imperial Marine Dies". How ironic that the author himself was
a marine who died three weeks after releasing the book.

Murdoc had one of the cushiest military jobs that Acturus Mengsk could allow.
The egotistical bastard was efficient, to say the least, and eliminated most
of the old desk soldiering. Now, the safest way to stay alive was in the gunner's
seat of the new new flagship of the Terran Empire, the Norad IV. Or was it V? Some
days he lost track of how many there were.

Murdoc shook his head as if to shake something off, and smiled at the marine.

"It's nothing. I was just thinking of my girl back home," Murdoc said.

"Oh, well, that's fine. I've been thinking 'bout my girl lately. Wonderin'
if I'd ever get to see her again. Man, is she the hottest piece of ass you'd
ever seen! She-"

Murdoc pretended to listen for the next forty-five minutes, as the marine
proceeded to give out every last detail of his marine friends, the way his
barracks were laid out, and every last classified detail to an unauthorized
personality who didn't have official guard duty.

He felt sorry for the marine. This was a man who had a life, and screwed it
up. For punishment, the Confederacy slapped the neuro violence suppresser on
him and he was subdued. Now, instead of being let back into the mainstream of
society, he is forced to become a marine, translated literally as 'cannon
fodder'. One of these days, he will die, and go as a single digit on a sheet
of papar as a casualty. That will be the end of Private Barkley.

Murdoc glanced at his chronometer, and cursed.

"You know, Barkley, I gotta go. See ya later, man!" Murdoc said, and patted the
marine on the shoulderpad.

"Yeah, ok. See ya later then!" Barkley got up to his feet, smiled, and waved.

Murdoc went down the steps from the tall wall that seperated Korhal City from
the rest of this barren wasteland of a world and walked quietly through the
halls of the most potent defence force in the world. Too bad it was all coming
to an end.

Murdoc slipped into his quarters, absolutely silent. The others of his temporary
bunk room were all trainee marines, too stupid and tired to realize. Since the
battlecruiser was in dry-dock, he had been given this place to stay in. He
slowly lay down on his bunk, carefully making sure the mattress didn't make a
sound.

Murdoc reached into his pocket, and felt for a tiny knife. As he was instructed,
he reached around and made a small slit in the mattress, just big enough to fit
his hand into. Putting the knife away, he reached into the mattress, searched
around a bit, and found a small metallic object. It was round, about the size of
a penny. Quickly, Murdoc took out the tiny object, and put it into his mouth.
Pushing it into the back of his molars, he waited for the tiny scanning device
inside his left molar to analyze the datadisc and give him the information.

Suddenly, before his eyes, appeared a map of Korhal City. It only included the
defensive perimeter of the city, and Murdoc smiled slightly as he realized that
most of this information was given to his superiors by himself. As usual, a low
metallic voice game him his instructions, pointing to the area or areas that
needed to be effected, and then gave him escape instructions. And as usual, the
small disc bubbled and hissed into a small chemical that gave a resurgence to his
more 'special' abilities.

Murdoc left the barrack and walked inconspiciously back to his sentry point. The
sun was about to rise now, dangerous for anyone to walk around unprotected. After
the nuclear devastation of the planet, anyone who was foolish enough to stand
outside without at least a marine suit on would be burned and radiated instantly
beyond any medical help. It was a common assassination technique.

Barkley was there, but this time holding a large dufflebag.

"Hey, man! You left this here!" he said, holding out the bag and smiling.

Murdoc glanced at the bag, and back at Barkley.

Almost faster than Barkley could see, Murdoc reached behind him, and pulled out
a small silenced canister pistol. Putting it up against the faceplate of the
helmet, Murdoc pulled the trigger. Barkley's face disappeared in a flash of light
and blood, and he crumpled to the ground. Murdoc looked at the body for a moment,
then turned to the bag. The orders were clear: kill the one who delivers the
package. Murdoc had done so without a second thought. He didn't even care that
Barkely was dead, and that he had a girl, one who would never see Barkely again.

Murdoc quickly unzipped the bag, and looked at what it contained. Smiling, he
pulled up a black suit, which shimmered as he moved it. Placing it carefully
on the ground, he pulled out the next item. A mask, but where the goggles were,
it was fitted with several green tubes that jutted out chaotically. Pulling
it over his head, he could feel his powers being focused and controlled.
Finally, he was on the prowl once more.

A few hours later, an attendant walked up to the Office of the Chief of Military
Affairs. Saluting, the man snapped his heels tgoether, creating a loud echo
through the long steel halls. A tiny camera situated beside the doors zoomed
in on him, and then the doors opened.

Behind a wooden desk, sat Edmund Duke Jr. He was a thin man of twenty-one,
unlike his father, but the similarities of the face were apparent. Duke Jr.
was a brilliant tactician, serving Mengsk since his father's death in battle.
Duke Jr. was nowhere close to his father's brilliance in tactics, however,
and made up for it with his absolute and complete knowledge of politics.
Duke Jr. could have had Mengsk deposed if he wanted to, he could get Raynor
to betray his best friends, he could probably even seduce the Queen of Blades.

The attendant walked up to the desk and saluted. Duke Jr. glanced up from his
work and frowned.

"What is it?"

The attendant stiffened and tightened his salute.

"Sir! Message for you, sir! From the Emperor himself! Said it was urgent, sir!

"Well then, let me have it, boy!"

He reached up and held out his hand. The attendant gave him a small datadisc,
and gave a slight smile.

For a moment there, Duke Jr. could have sworn another face had transposed
itself on top of the attendant's face. Duke Jr. blinked, and it was gone.
Shaking his head as if to clear something, he looked at the attendant again,
who gave a frown.

"Is something wrong, sir?"

"Yes, now wipe that mad grin off your face and get the hell out of my office!"

"Sir!" and with that, the attendant saluted, and left.

Duke Jr. popped the datadisc into the reader, and the 3d hologram projecter
came online with a whir. Duke Jr. was surprised when the face he had seen
transposed on the attendant's face floated in air, smiling, instead of
Acturus'.

"Good morning, Chief. I believe you were expecting the honorary Emperor,
but no such good look for you exists. And don't try looking for the attendant,
he was dead half an hour ago. You'll find him in a month or two."

Duke Jr. was pounding on security camera screens, looking for the attendant
who had given him the message. But he had just disappeared.

"Now, onto our main subject," he continued. "My name is Murdoc. You don't
know me from my real name, but you might have heard such terms as the
Doctor, Professor Murder, or M.D. Death."

Duke Jr. gasped and grabbed his gun, cocking it. The Doctor had assassinated
more than fifty Dominion officers in the course of three months, all so devious
and well-planned any Ghost would envy his efficiency. The Doctor was an expert
at demolitions, sharpshooting, and especially torturing and mutilating the
human body. A rumor said that he had escaped from an infested Terran command
center, thus learning the utter horrors of Zerg control.

"You see, Mr. Duke Jr., the Camra sector has been ruled under both the
Dominion, the remains of the Confederacy,and even the Zerg. We have switched
sides for many a time, and are not happy at all about it. So, to rap it all
up, let me make this statement: the Camra sector, and all worlds, colonies,
cities, ships, military detachments,and citizens thereof, declare its
independance from the Terran Dominion, and request for the official arrest
of Acturus Mengsk for charges of treason,mass murder, genocide, and withholding
necessary information and supplies."

At the moment that Murdoc had said independance, a shockwave rumbled through
Duke Jr.'s office. Half of his secuirty cameras saw a flash of fire and then
went blank. Guards ran around in panic, while others screamed in pain and fear.
One was seen crawling across hallway, his legs completely gone, trailing two
streams of blood.

In the barrack rooms, long hallways with doors on either side, it was absolute
slaughter. Each door had been affixed a tiny explosive device. Each door exploded,
and the soldiers were blown away. Those that survived died as the nerve gas
seeped into their systems. Smoke spilled out from every available orifice to
the outside.

In the Wraith hangar, two explosions went off. One, near the Wraith energy
refueling station, and one near the armoury. The Wraith cloaking energy battery
went nova as it exploded, destroying the whole Wraith hangar and damaging the
battlecruiser hangar severely enough so as to disable the hangar bay doors.
The whole air force of the defence of the capitol city was shut down in .3
seconds.

Other, stronger bombs went off, but mainly to take out the heavier fortifications.
By now, a huge portion of the marines and the air force, the two major
contending forces in any invasion of Korhal City, had gone out. The
Arclites were easy to takecare of from above, and without marines, the
machines had no backup.

After the explosions had rocked the base, Duke Jr. struggled out from
under the desk, his gauss pistol held in tight fingers. Looking around
carefully, Duke Jr. flipped onto the commander's tac net.

"Report," he said, and a huge wave of information flowed in.

"Sir! We have FTL drive signatures at Trojan point 3! Numbers coming
in! Dear god, sir...we're lost."

"Don't say that! Continue!"

"Three hundred battlecruisers, a thousand Wraiths, uncountable
number of Dropships, we...can't win. We can't win! We're all going to die!
All of us! No one will live! Aaaah!"

"Calm down! Calm down! Calm-"

Duke Jr. heard a gunshot, and then the sound of a body slump against the
ground. Duke Jr. flipped to a combat camera, and felt absolute terror.

Falling from the sky, tens of thousands of dropships. Troops, marines,
firebats, missiles, guns...his troops falling back on all fronts...
fortifications breached...nuclear missiles impacting...nuclear silos
disabled...casualties mounting...units destroyed...utter chaos...it's
over.

It's over.

It's over.

Murdoc smiled as he watched his troops pour into Korhal, claiming it as
their own. He needed more, more, more! This wasn't enough. The Camra was
only a scam to get soldiers, and now he had soldiers. He had to have more
money, more troops, more worlds. He would conquer both the Zerg and Protoss!
He would return to Earth, victorious, a thousand worlds behind his back,
the skulls of thousands piled up for his throne. He would make Kerrigan
his bitch, make her his slave. He would make Zeratul cry out for mercy,
for death. He would make Earth his trophy, and the galaxy his crown.

It's not over. It had just begun.