Unfortunately the suns could never keep themselves isolated from the planet. Three shimmering discs of blinding
luminiscince arose from the Northern end of the planet; understandable now as to why the terrain seemed to be a useless
wasteland. The last of the buildings fell to a crumbling demise, followed by the quick disappearance of the zerg
force, burrowing beneath the barren landscape.. and it was through this the unimaginable manifested. An underground
colony constructed year before, bustling with activity. Large vehicles patrolled the city leaving behind the infamous
spider mines.. and on the surface.. no bodies were found.

"Here they come.."

Large clods of dirt rock crumbled as crust does from a toasted slice of bread.

"Wallace, Lone, Jackson, hit the front."

A massive claw broke through and became visible to the awaiting troops. Inch by inch it seemed to have lowered as though
by a cautious being. It stopped, as did all activity within the cavern, save the firebats there were now shuffling through
the crowded battallion. Soon it resumed its idle discension until finally the unsightly creatures broke through, and at this
very moment they had been blanketed by streams of pulsating fire, never given the opportunity to touch down. Bone
chilling shrieks resonated within the poorly designed caverns, threatening the establishment with a cave in killing
the crippled zerg and the other inhabitants. All fell silent, the victorious terran were suddenly plagued by a series
of tremulous vibrations throwing this with the heavier equipment off balance. Large bulbs flickered into visibility
shedding light throughout the entire underground region.

"Colonel Dawson, what's going on?"

"The dirt.."

"What? What about it?"

"It's collapsing. Listen, I want civilians taken out first. Rendezvous
in fifteen minutes at the St. Ives beacon. Let the Command know."

"Yes sir."

The increasing tumult came to an abrupt end. Still cautious, the military men stepped back and began rounding up
the entire population..


** ** ** **

"Admiral, incoming transmission from sector X1012; simulation. They received 1200 points out of a possible 1200."

"Which run?"

"This was their first one, sir."

"Very well. I want them with Raynor first thing in the morning, is that understood?"

"Yes, sir. Right away, sir."

The conversation had taken place within the 'Matador'. One of three battle cruisers that were hovering above
Earth-3. A behemoth class; monumental in size, unlike any other constructed by the hands of the Terran populace.
Within the massive space ship sat the Admiral, otherwise known as Armen. Thin whisps of grey and white fluttered
in every possible direction, dressed by a navy blue hat, laced with gold and several other accessories. A large
oak chair set in the center of the conference room, holding within the walls screens and projectors displaying planets
and plans for future domination.
* Beep Beep Beep *

"Raynor here."

"Good evening, Jim. It has been some time since we last spoke."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that.. but I don't think 'speaking' with me would do us any more good. It's not
like you to waste time, Admiral."

"No, it's not. As much as I would like to hear you speak some more non-sense, there are more pressing matters
to attend to. Your new recruits.. they're on their way."

"Well, you're the one wasting time. Press away."

"They were just in simulation X1012 and scored the maximum amount of points. There were absolutely no
casualties, except for those that were programmed."

"How many this time? 10? 20?"

"Sixty ghosts, which goes to show their numerous abilities."

"Well.. I do remember running that sim, Tarea, we scored the highest too."

"There were twelve of you, Raynor?"

"And?"

"There were three of them."

Raynor's eyes widened, a fist pounding on the computer system that sat before him.

"And they did 'em all in?!"

"Indeed. Without a scratch."

"Woo-wee! When are they getting here?"

"Four hours."

"Method of transport?"

"Dropship. Get some bags ready."

"Heh. Always."

Raynor and Tarea disconnected. Raynor sat on a rock with his vulture hover craft to h is left, the windshield driven all the way back.
It was still dark, but tree scattered around the vicinity were still visible by the several moons in the sky. He raised
a cigarette to his lips and inhaled, ashes spiralling to the ground, undiluted.

"What is it now, Mr. Raynor?"

It seemed as though a group of three spoke simaltaneously, the deeper of the trio standing out the most. Dualistic pools
of oceanic passion offered a shimmering glow in the surrounding darkness. A tangible redolence encompassed the approaching protoss,
embellished by several sheets of alien alloy. A masculine figure, beautified by the night continued in a bestriding pace towards
his terran collaborator.

"We've got ourselves a couple of hot shots."

"Hot shots? Forgive me, but I am unfamiliar with that term."

"Three guys that are too good."

"You feel threatened?"

"Nah', just worried."

"About what? Foreign recruitment?"

"Yeah. Rumors about another federatiojn. Lately a lot of our guys have been leaving and joining something else.
Most of them being the best we've had."

"These are different, Mr. Raynor. They won't leave us."

By now, the zealot warrior was fully visible. He was seemingly pure of hear, the young protoss was a ferocious warrior.
As he spoke, a device that wrapped around his neck lit up with every passing syllable. Raynor looked up and paused,
stumped by the creature's reply.

"Furinax.. what the hell are you talking about?"

"They're dedicated."

"Oh? What makes you say that?"

"They were the only three that registered to join our program. Tarea told you, did he not?"

"Hmm.. no he didn't. Are you trying to say that they aren't as good as they're supposed to be?"

"Even better. I supervized their simulation."

"So how are you here before them?"

"Aldaris gave us an entire stock of aircrafts, free of charge. Advanced technology always has its advantages,
my friend."

"Heh heh, I guess you're right--- what the hell?"

A resonating buzzing sound penetrated the palpable fog that soon settled. A beam of deep azure pierced Furinax's armor
and left a large gash upon his arm, a disruption in their reality followed as though a phantom of the night targetted
both Furinax and Raynor. The 'genius' terran drove his arm into the vulture and struck a large button unleashing a
series of pulsating waves, disrupting all cloaking technology. A dark templar stood in shock between the fearless
warriors. A single canister struck the intruding protoss driving him back towards Furinax who in turn drove a psi-blade
into the creature's spinal region.

"Grraahh.."

The dark templar had been engulfed within a series of blue flames that expanded and retracted, disappearing in a matter
of seconds.