A/N: ( . ) denotes thought. Here it is, chapter four. I hope you like it.
^_^ Anyone who doesn't, ah well. Everyone's got opinions, after all, eh?
Hehe. And I still don't own Starcraft, either. *shrug*
-=Chapter Four: The Jacobs Installation=-
Sons of Korhal Command Ship Hyperion High Orbit, Confederate Border World Mar Sara 15:39 SCT, 13 Dec 2499
The massive battlecruiser Hyperion, the flagship of Arcturus Mengsk's somewhat rag-tag but still quite dangerous fleet, slowly cruised though the vacuum of space over Mar Sara. The hull plates on the ship were a bright crimson red color, and just behind the bridge was the clan emblem for the Sons of Korhal: a curled arm, holding a whip that circled around behind it. At the front observation windows just below the main bridge of the ship, Arcturus Mengsk himself stood, hands clasped behind his back. Though appearing just as rag-tag as the rest of his officers, and his fleet also, he was still a man of presence. He truly was the son of Argus Mengsk, the great Korhal senator.
Arcturus gazed thoughtfully out and down at the planet, but an expression of revulsion briefly crossed his aged and stern features. Far below them, most of the formerly green-brown world was now covered in a sickly looking purplish goo. (The creep), Mengsk thought sourly to himself. (What disgusting shit. I can't believe that another planet has fallen to these bastards.) Beside him, his first Lieutenant and second-in-command, Sarah Kerrigan, picked up telepathically on his thought and sub-consciously nodded in agreement to it.
For her own part, Kerrigan looked down on the world below with a mixture of trepidation and anger. She had encoutered the Zerg in close quarters many times now, and each time her mind ached from an echo of something that was trying to telepathically make a grab for her. She fought it off, and valiantly so, thanks to the intense Ghost training she had received as a child. But even still, it was getting harder and harder to do. (There's a driving mind behind these monsters,) she thought once, not too long ago, after narrowly escaping a heated battle with them. (And whatever it is, it has its eyes set on me.) She knew this, because she was a Ghost. a highly gifted wielder of intense psionic powers. Though unfortunately, her powers were dampened by the Confederates and their damnable control techniques.
Can't have their precious Ghosts rampaging out of control, now can they? All Ghosts were subjected to the same treatment. And to Kerrigan, the thought of it was revolting. But there was nothing she could do about it.
A little flicker of lights from the surface caught her eye. She turned her bright green eyes fully toward them, her HEV optical implants automatically zooming into the image. Her vision, while wearing that helmet, was like the view of a highly-advanced cyborg. Crosshairs, auto- zoom, threat assessment and target identification programs were all built- in. As little schematic displays on the approaching ships appeared on the right side of her vision, she saw that it was nothing threatening. Just the dropships that Mengsk had sent down, to evacuate the rest of the colony's survivors. In a few moments, the ships would dock, and Arcturus would leave her side, to greet his new guests.
** ** **
About ten minutes later, the dropships all settled into their docking clamps in the gigantic ship's hangar deck. They all shook slightly as the clamps took hold, and soon the artificial gravity regained its hold on the occupants, giving them a momentary stomach-drop feeling. Yates, though, shook it off more quickly, as he was used to stuff like this. He unlocked his harness and rose from the bench-like seat that three others were likewise strapped into, and stepped down the lowering ramp into the hangar bay proper.
All around were various pieces of things, littered here and there. Pieces of engines, a wing, a laser cannon, a missile launcher. All parts and equipment for the agile little fighters known as Wraiths. As his gaze swept around the bay, he saw literally dozens of the tiny one-man fighters, resting comfortably on many tiers, from floor to ceiling. On the opposite side, were racks of dropships, suits of armour for landing parties, and racks full of heavy weaponry. Not just the U-238 Gauss Rifles, either. There were Perdition Class-II Flamethrowers, C-10 Canister Rifles, C-25 Laser Pulse Rifles, Personal Cloaking Devices, shoulder-mounted Gemini Missile Launchers. Yates was impressed. Mengsk apparently kept his forces well armed, and well taken care of.
He stopped in the middle of the bay, and looked back behind him through the clear plasteel of the now closing docking bay doors. He caught sight of his once-beautiful planet, and felt a wave of anger. Mar Sara, almost totally ruined and overpowered by the alien Zerg. His eyes then shifted to the city command center that was slowly trundling up to orbit after them, the computer having been given an order to follow. After all, it was Yates' only link to the outside universe. As it got within narrow-band transmission range, the computer sent him a flash transmission that it had intercepted from Confederate HQ on Tarsonis.
'Commander, your tenure as Colonial Magistrate is suspended, pending an official investigation of your affiliation with the Sons of Korhal.'
(Well, that's just great,) Yates thought grimly, nodding once at the report and tapping off his wrist-com. (I've had just about enough good news for one day. First the damned Confeds leave us to be overrun, and then they have the nerve to strip me of my position, just for taking a helping hand. Goddamn them!) He put his hands up to his temples, and rubbed a bit, feeling a gnawing headache forming there. He hadn't slept in a long time. Not, in fact, since they had first seen signs of trouble around Wasteland Station.
He was jarred from his thoughts by the sudden opening of the door on the far side of the hangar, the one that led to the corridors, and the rest of the ship. His hands dropped to his sides, and he forced himself to appear professional as he turned to greet the newcomer. His eyes widened in surprise, and a smile crept onto his face. "Jim!" he exclaimed, seeing Raynor and Sergeant Keller moving through the now-open door. He stepped up to meet the two, and shook hands with them. "Sergeant Keller. Good to see you both. Welcome back, though I wish the circumstances were better."
Raynor smiled, his typical goofy grin. "Hey, man. Good to see you too. I was beginnin' to think I'd rot on that damned ship forever. Arcturus's boys sprung us from that prison ship, and they brought us directly here. Apparently, they're as pissed off at the Confederates as we are! I know their reputation," he said hesitantly, looking around as though slightly paranoid that the walls might well have ears. But they didn't seem to, so he continued. "But they do seem to be on the level. I think Arcturus wanted to speak with you."
As if on cue, the hangar door slid open once more, and Mengsk himself strode into the bay. "Commander Yates, Commander Raynor, Sergeant Keller," he began, nodding at all three of them in turn. They nodded back to him. Looking grim, Mengsk continued. "I'll get right down to it, gentlemen. Mar Sara is almost completely overrun by the Zerg." At this, Raynor visibly flinched. (Shit!) the ex-marshal thought, anguished. (That was my home, goddamnit! I grew up there! Those bastards are gonna pay for this!) "The Confederates are abandoning the planet, and so are we. However, there's one thing I'd like to do before we leave."
Mengsk paused a moment, then moved to one of the hangar bay's windows, looking down. "I'd like you to raid this colony's Confederate outpost and retrieve whatever design or weapons schematics that you can find in their networks. With the chaos of their evacuation, you shouldn't have any trouble getting into or out of their installation." He turned back to them. "This could be vitally important, gentlemen."
Raynor nodded at once, eyes appearing excited. "Finally, some action. I'm into it."
Mengsk looked immensely pleased. For the first time, Yates felt a slight tingle of suspicion about this man. A feeling that Mengsk might be on their side, but that he might have a secret agenda that they didn't know about. What was it that Mengsk wanted to find down in that outpost? He didn't know, and he wasn't even really sure that it mattered.
"Commander Raynor, Sergeant Keller, you will lead this operation," Yates said, turning to his two companions. He looked around the room, now seeing that all of the survivors had de-barked from Mengsk's dropships, and that all of the other militia that had been arrested by that asshole Duke were here as well. "Take whoever you need. Get in, get whatever's there, and get out again. And most importantly, get back safely." At once, the other two men looked back to Mengsk, looking for details, specifics, and a chance to re-arm.
Magnanimously, Mengsk waved his arm at the armour and weapons racks. "Help yourselves, gentlemen," he said, his southern drawl even thicker and more pronounced than Raynor's. "My allies get only the best that I have to offer." Again, Yates felt a faint stir of unease. (Your allies, eh? What about your enemies, what to they get?) At Mengsk's words, and with a dismissal from Yates, Raynor and Keller began to move about the room, checking personnel, hand-picking some fifteen more people to accompany them. Nine more marines, and six firebats all followed the two to the wall, where they began to outfit themselves once more for the first time in many hours.
"Ah, yeah," one of the marines muttered happily, as he slipped into a new suit of armour. This suit was crimson red instead of the typical bright blue he was used to, but that didn't matter. Armour was armour, after all. "Lock and load." This sentiment was echoed by all the others, as they donned the crimson armour, and selected quite a bit of heavy firepower. One of the marines, a Corporal Jack Stoner, grinned a grin that was missing quite a few teeth as he selected twin U-238 Gauss Rifles, and slipped smaller auto-pistols into holsters in the armour plating.
Once all the marines and firebats were outfitted with new equipment, they trooped onto two of the dropships that had not long before ferried the Mar Sara survivors to this ship. Keller, four marines, and three firebats loaded into one; Raynor, the other five marines, and the other three firebats loaded into the other. Mengsk and Yates stood back as the hangar doors opened, silently watching the ships depart. (Good luck, men,) Yates thought to himself. (Come back safe.) He looked askance at Mengsk, and saw the older man struggling hard to conceal a smile behind his beard. (What are you after?) he wondered again. But now was not the time to worry about it.
** ** **
The dropships fell like stones from orbit, slicing through the turbulent atmosphere of Mar Sara like two gigantic meteors. Only the heat shields prevented the ships from frying like crispy chicken. As they plummeted through the clouds, Raynor could strainingly look out a nearby porthole at the rapidly approaching ground below. The look of it shocked him. (My god!) he thought, shocked at the sight.
All around the Confederate outpost they were approaching, the ground was purple.
Raynor stared down in mute horror, for the first time truly aware of just how much damage the alien bastards had done to his precious home. They would suffer for this, but revenge would come another day. For now, they had a mission. And he was in charge of it.
Within ten minutes, the transports soon fired their braking thrusters, slowing their perilous descent and giving everyone within them a good solid jarring. Straightening out, the vessels landed softly on their skids with a slight bump, and the second they were down, the massive ramps swung down and bit into the ground. Unlocking and moving out, the covert force took a moment to look around, noting that the Creep was not yet all that pronounced here. But it would be, and soon. They could see the bright white armour of the Alpha Squadron Confederates off at the limits of visual range, clearly fighting something. Most likely, the approach of the ravenous invaders.
Raynor then motioned them into action, and led the charge toward the facility behind them. He looked down at himself, now also wearing the crimson red armour of the Sons of Korhal, thinking disgustedly of how they'd stand out like a sore thumb in this sea of white armour. (Oh, what the hell,) he thought, and charged on. Reaching the main entrance, he saw that the door was closed, and locked. which he found rather odd for an installation in the midst of a full blown evacuation. But this didn't despair him: he had an all-purpose lockpick, albeit a drastic one. Bending down momentarily, he set a C-4 explosive charge at the base of the door, and motioned everyone to take cover.
A moment later, a tremendous explosion tore the door completely off of its track, and hurled lethal shrapnel all over the entryway of the building. They moved in, quickly and quietly, a perfect infiltration. Or so they thought. Little did they know that the explosion had gone noticed, and a silent alarm tripped. There were now a multitude of guards approaching them, and all around the building floor guns were activating. As one door opened and the force stormed in, three civilians looked up, in shock to see the blood red colors standing before them. "Hey, who are you?!" one bellowed. "You're not allowed in here! This is a restricted area!"
Keller stepped forward, levelled his gauss rifle, and calmly blew the man's head clean off his shoulders in a hail of metal. The rest of the troops fanned out behind him, and the other two civilians finally realized what was wrong. that these men wore the colors of the enemy. "You rebel scum!" the second shouted, before they were both cut down by Keller's men. The gunfire apparently hadn't gone unnoticed, for as the force trooped through the area where the civilians had been, and walked down a winding set of stairs toward the center of the structure, a computerized alarm suddenly went off.
"Unauthorized entry detected," a harsh, male voice boomed over the building's loudspeaker system. "Sentry guns activating."
"Aw, shit!" Raynor swore, as just ahead and behind them, turreted machine- guns popped up out of the floor, and opened fire. The squad dove for any cover they could find, but two of the marines and a firebat got literally torn to pieces by the crossfire. Three of the guns got blown up as well, by the same crossfire, and then Raynor's men began to open up on them as well. No more men fell, but one took a stray bullet in the arm before all the sentry guns were finally reduced to smoking cinders. "Whew." Raynor muttered. As they proceeded, he paused a moment to look them over. "Everyone else okay?"
They all nodded, even the one who had taken the bullet in the arm. It didn't matter to him anymore, anyway. The armour was good: it had isolated the wound, and pumped his body full of painkillers and stimulants, as well as disinfectants. Thus, he wouldn't have to worry about it becoming infected on him. If all else failed, he would get it taken care of back aboard the Hyperion. They moved on deeper in, being very careful now. They were all hyped up on stim-packs, and their senses were now hyper-alert and overactive.
After a short while of walking through boring and empty corridors, Raynor turned a corner and found himself on a bridge overlooking a pit. Looking down into the pit before he could stop himself, his eyes widened with disgust and surprise. "What the hell?" he shouted, involuntarily activating his helmet comm-link to the Hyperion far above. "Zerg! I don't fuckin' believe this!"
The answering voice came a moment later, the sympathetic and cool tones of Arcturus Mengsk himself. "Believe it, Commander." The man seemed to sound old and harried. as though he were waging a war. But then again, maybe he was. "I saw Zerg held within Confederate holding pens myself, and that was over a year ago. It's clear now that the Confederates have known about these creatures for some time. Hell, for all we know they could be breeding the things!" he paused a moment, trying to get his anger at the Confederacy under control. "But be that as it may, Commander, our priority here is to access the Confederate datanet. We'll deal with the Zerg another day."
"Right," Raynor said, and led his men over the bridge, casting reviled glares down at the trapped Zerglings far below. He suspected they were getting closer to the center, where the main datanet was contained. That's the way most facilities like this were laid out: with sensitive and classified files and data at the very center, surrounded with layer after layer and floor after floor of protective armour.
Raynor's suspicions were confirmed a moment later as they rounded another corner, and ran smack into a group of six Alpha Squadron marines. "It's them! Blast 'em!" their leader shouted, but they were caught by surprise. The invaders already had their guns up, and were firing just as fast as the triggers would press. The six enemy marines were blown all over the corridor. Some were violently decapitated, others had the front of their suits caved in by incessant pounding of high-speed bullets. Just behind where the splattered marines now lay, was a heavy double-blast door.
Bingo: the datanet was here. They stormed the room, having to blow open the doors with not just one but three C-4 charges. Once in, they fanned out with military precision, methodically slaughtering anyone within. Then one of the marines, one Tech Sgt. Amir Vondoska, walked to the computers, already pulling something out of a small pack carried beneath his armour's chestplate. It turned out to be a hacker's disc, no larger than a compact disc from Earth's older history. Once inserted into the disk drive of any computer, it would automatically copy anything that occupied that computer's memory. Vondoska slid the disc in, and tapped a few keys on the keyboard console, waiting.
After about two minutes, he removed the disc, and stowed it, turning to Raynor. "Mission accomplished, sir," he said, his voice light and tinny. Raynor nodded once, satisfied, and then motioned them to pull out, double- time.
As they ran through the complex, retracing their steps to get back out again, Raynor activated his helmet-comm, radioing up their success to the ship. "Hey, we've found the plans, man!" His voice was tinged with excitement, and a wonder of just what it was that they stole. "Have the transports waitin' when we come out." They didn't encounter any resistance on the way out, and about fifteen minutes later they tore out the front gates as though the hounds of hell were on their tails. They pelted up the ramps to the dropships, and Raynor barked an order to the pilots: "Get us out of here!"
** ** **
Aboard the Hyperion, Mengsk stood together with Yates, now on the bridge of the mighty ship. As yet unintroduced, Kerrigan stood unobtrusively in the shadows at the portside-aft side of the bridge, surveying everything with a cool air. Her bright green eyes, augmented by the powerful elements of her HEV suit, swept over Yates, measuring him up. She'd already seen Commander Raynor, though only through the closed-circuit monitors at the aft of the bridge. A shiver ran through her, and she had to fight off the immediate feelings she felt stirring for him. (Stop it!) she told herself fiercely. (You're a soldier, and this is war. you have no time to fall in love with anyone!)
But yet, as she heard the transmission from Raynor signifying a successful mission, her heart sped up ever so slightly, despite her efforts to contain it. Now she stood, watching, as the trio of dropships headed back up to orbit, hauling ass like a bat out of hell itself. She'd felt a stir of fear and anger when Raynor had reported the sighting of the Zerg, that was for sure. But, now that they were about to abandon this god- forsaken world, she began to feel better.
Just a little bit.
** ** **
In the wake of the chaos resulting from the Zerg invasion, the Sons of Korhal escaped Mar Sara with the stolen Confederate data.
The Sons of Korhal, with Yates, Keller, and Raynor in tow, fled to the border colony of Antiga Prime, to plan their next crucial moves against the Confederacy.
Thirteen hours after the evacuation of Mar Sara, Protoss warships took up high orbit around the colony and unleashed a massive planetary barrage.
All life upon the surface was extinguished.
-=Chapter Four: The Jacobs Installation=-
Sons of Korhal Command Ship Hyperion High Orbit, Confederate Border World Mar Sara 15:39 SCT, 13 Dec 2499
The massive battlecruiser Hyperion, the flagship of Arcturus Mengsk's somewhat rag-tag but still quite dangerous fleet, slowly cruised though the vacuum of space over Mar Sara. The hull plates on the ship were a bright crimson red color, and just behind the bridge was the clan emblem for the Sons of Korhal: a curled arm, holding a whip that circled around behind it. At the front observation windows just below the main bridge of the ship, Arcturus Mengsk himself stood, hands clasped behind his back. Though appearing just as rag-tag as the rest of his officers, and his fleet also, he was still a man of presence. He truly was the son of Argus Mengsk, the great Korhal senator.
Arcturus gazed thoughtfully out and down at the planet, but an expression of revulsion briefly crossed his aged and stern features. Far below them, most of the formerly green-brown world was now covered in a sickly looking purplish goo. (The creep), Mengsk thought sourly to himself. (What disgusting shit. I can't believe that another planet has fallen to these bastards.) Beside him, his first Lieutenant and second-in-command, Sarah Kerrigan, picked up telepathically on his thought and sub-consciously nodded in agreement to it.
For her own part, Kerrigan looked down on the world below with a mixture of trepidation and anger. She had encoutered the Zerg in close quarters many times now, and each time her mind ached from an echo of something that was trying to telepathically make a grab for her. She fought it off, and valiantly so, thanks to the intense Ghost training she had received as a child. But even still, it was getting harder and harder to do. (There's a driving mind behind these monsters,) she thought once, not too long ago, after narrowly escaping a heated battle with them. (And whatever it is, it has its eyes set on me.) She knew this, because she was a Ghost. a highly gifted wielder of intense psionic powers. Though unfortunately, her powers were dampened by the Confederates and their damnable control techniques.
Can't have their precious Ghosts rampaging out of control, now can they? All Ghosts were subjected to the same treatment. And to Kerrigan, the thought of it was revolting. But there was nothing she could do about it.
A little flicker of lights from the surface caught her eye. She turned her bright green eyes fully toward them, her HEV optical implants automatically zooming into the image. Her vision, while wearing that helmet, was like the view of a highly-advanced cyborg. Crosshairs, auto- zoom, threat assessment and target identification programs were all built- in. As little schematic displays on the approaching ships appeared on the right side of her vision, she saw that it was nothing threatening. Just the dropships that Mengsk had sent down, to evacuate the rest of the colony's survivors. In a few moments, the ships would dock, and Arcturus would leave her side, to greet his new guests.
** ** **
About ten minutes later, the dropships all settled into their docking clamps in the gigantic ship's hangar deck. They all shook slightly as the clamps took hold, and soon the artificial gravity regained its hold on the occupants, giving them a momentary stomach-drop feeling. Yates, though, shook it off more quickly, as he was used to stuff like this. He unlocked his harness and rose from the bench-like seat that three others were likewise strapped into, and stepped down the lowering ramp into the hangar bay proper.
All around were various pieces of things, littered here and there. Pieces of engines, a wing, a laser cannon, a missile launcher. All parts and equipment for the agile little fighters known as Wraiths. As his gaze swept around the bay, he saw literally dozens of the tiny one-man fighters, resting comfortably on many tiers, from floor to ceiling. On the opposite side, were racks of dropships, suits of armour for landing parties, and racks full of heavy weaponry. Not just the U-238 Gauss Rifles, either. There were Perdition Class-II Flamethrowers, C-10 Canister Rifles, C-25 Laser Pulse Rifles, Personal Cloaking Devices, shoulder-mounted Gemini Missile Launchers. Yates was impressed. Mengsk apparently kept his forces well armed, and well taken care of.
He stopped in the middle of the bay, and looked back behind him through the clear plasteel of the now closing docking bay doors. He caught sight of his once-beautiful planet, and felt a wave of anger. Mar Sara, almost totally ruined and overpowered by the alien Zerg. His eyes then shifted to the city command center that was slowly trundling up to orbit after them, the computer having been given an order to follow. After all, it was Yates' only link to the outside universe. As it got within narrow-band transmission range, the computer sent him a flash transmission that it had intercepted from Confederate HQ on Tarsonis.
'Commander, your tenure as Colonial Magistrate is suspended, pending an official investigation of your affiliation with the Sons of Korhal.'
(Well, that's just great,) Yates thought grimly, nodding once at the report and tapping off his wrist-com. (I've had just about enough good news for one day. First the damned Confeds leave us to be overrun, and then they have the nerve to strip me of my position, just for taking a helping hand. Goddamn them!) He put his hands up to his temples, and rubbed a bit, feeling a gnawing headache forming there. He hadn't slept in a long time. Not, in fact, since they had first seen signs of trouble around Wasteland Station.
He was jarred from his thoughts by the sudden opening of the door on the far side of the hangar, the one that led to the corridors, and the rest of the ship. His hands dropped to his sides, and he forced himself to appear professional as he turned to greet the newcomer. His eyes widened in surprise, and a smile crept onto his face. "Jim!" he exclaimed, seeing Raynor and Sergeant Keller moving through the now-open door. He stepped up to meet the two, and shook hands with them. "Sergeant Keller. Good to see you both. Welcome back, though I wish the circumstances were better."
Raynor smiled, his typical goofy grin. "Hey, man. Good to see you too. I was beginnin' to think I'd rot on that damned ship forever. Arcturus's boys sprung us from that prison ship, and they brought us directly here. Apparently, they're as pissed off at the Confederates as we are! I know their reputation," he said hesitantly, looking around as though slightly paranoid that the walls might well have ears. But they didn't seem to, so he continued. "But they do seem to be on the level. I think Arcturus wanted to speak with you."
As if on cue, the hangar door slid open once more, and Mengsk himself strode into the bay. "Commander Yates, Commander Raynor, Sergeant Keller," he began, nodding at all three of them in turn. They nodded back to him. Looking grim, Mengsk continued. "I'll get right down to it, gentlemen. Mar Sara is almost completely overrun by the Zerg." At this, Raynor visibly flinched. (Shit!) the ex-marshal thought, anguished. (That was my home, goddamnit! I grew up there! Those bastards are gonna pay for this!) "The Confederates are abandoning the planet, and so are we. However, there's one thing I'd like to do before we leave."
Mengsk paused a moment, then moved to one of the hangar bay's windows, looking down. "I'd like you to raid this colony's Confederate outpost and retrieve whatever design or weapons schematics that you can find in their networks. With the chaos of their evacuation, you shouldn't have any trouble getting into or out of their installation." He turned back to them. "This could be vitally important, gentlemen."
Raynor nodded at once, eyes appearing excited. "Finally, some action. I'm into it."
Mengsk looked immensely pleased. For the first time, Yates felt a slight tingle of suspicion about this man. A feeling that Mengsk might be on their side, but that he might have a secret agenda that they didn't know about. What was it that Mengsk wanted to find down in that outpost? He didn't know, and he wasn't even really sure that it mattered.
"Commander Raynor, Sergeant Keller, you will lead this operation," Yates said, turning to his two companions. He looked around the room, now seeing that all of the survivors had de-barked from Mengsk's dropships, and that all of the other militia that had been arrested by that asshole Duke were here as well. "Take whoever you need. Get in, get whatever's there, and get out again. And most importantly, get back safely." At once, the other two men looked back to Mengsk, looking for details, specifics, and a chance to re-arm.
Magnanimously, Mengsk waved his arm at the armour and weapons racks. "Help yourselves, gentlemen," he said, his southern drawl even thicker and more pronounced than Raynor's. "My allies get only the best that I have to offer." Again, Yates felt a faint stir of unease. (Your allies, eh? What about your enemies, what to they get?) At Mengsk's words, and with a dismissal from Yates, Raynor and Keller began to move about the room, checking personnel, hand-picking some fifteen more people to accompany them. Nine more marines, and six firebats all followed the two to the wall, where they began to outfit themselves once more for the first time in many hours.
"Ah, yeah," one of the marines muttered happily, as he slipped into a new suit of armour. This suit was crimson red instead of the typical bright blue he was used to, but that didn't matter. Armour was armour, after all. "Lock and load." This sentiment was echoed by all the others, as they donned the crimson armour, and selected quite a bit of heavy firepower. One of the marines, a Corporal Jack Stoner, grinned a grin that was missing quite a few teeth as he selected twin U-238 Gauss Rifles, and slipped smaller auto-pistols into holsters in the armour plating.
Once all the marines and firebats were outfitted with new equipment, they trooped onto two of the dropships that had not long before ferried the Mar Sara survivors to this ship. Keller, four marines, and three firebats loaded into one; Raynor, the other five marines, and the other three firebats loaded into the other. Mengsk and Yates stood back as the hangar doors opened, silently watching the ships depart. (Good luck, men,) Yates thought to himself. (Come back safe.) He looked askance at Mengsk, and saw the older man struggling hard to conceal a smile behind his beard. (What are you after?) he wondered again. But now was not the time to worry about it.
** ** **
The dropships fell like stones from orbit, slicing through the turbulent atmosphere of Mar Sara like two gigantic meteors. Only the heat shields prevented the ships from frying like crispy chicken. As they plummeted through the clouds, Raynor could strainingly look out a nearby porthole at the rapidly approaching ground below. The look of it shocked him. (My god!) he thought, shocked at the sight.
All around the Confederate outpost they were approaching, the ground was purple.
Raynor stared down in mute horror, for the first time truly aware of just how much damage the alien bastards had done to his precious home. They would suffer for this, but revenge would come another day. For now, they had a mission. And he was in charge of it.
Within ten minutes, the transports soon fired their braking thrusters, slowing their perilous descent and giving everyone within them a good solid jarring. Straightening out, the vessels landed softly on their skids with a slight bump, and the second they were down, the massive ramps swung down and bit into the ground. Unlocking and moving out, the covert force took a moment to look around, noting that the Creep was not yet all that pronounced here. But it would be, and soon. They could see the bright white armour of the Alpha Squadron Confederates off at the limits of visual range, clearly fighting something. Most likely, the approach of the ravenous invaders.
Raynor then motioned them into action, and led the charge toward the facility behind them. He looked down at himself, now also wearing the crimson red armour of the Sons of Korhal, thinking disgustedly of how they'd stand out like a sore thumb in this sea of white armour. (Oh, what the hell,) he thought, and charged on. Reaching the main entrance, he saw that the door was closed, and locked. which he found rather odd for an installation in the midst of a full blown evacuation. But this didn't despair him: he had an all-purpose lockpick, albeit a drastic one. Bending down momentarily, he set a C-4 explosive charge at the base of the door, and motioned everyone to take cover.
A moment later, a tremendous explosion tore the door completely off of its track, and hurled lethal shrapnel all over the entryway of the building. They moved in, quickly and quietly, a perfect infiltration. Or so they thought. Little did they know that the explosion had gone noticed, and a silent alarm tripped. There were now a multitude of guards approaching them, and all around the building floor guns were activating. As one door opened and the force stormed in, three civilians looked up, in shock to see the blood red colors standing before them. "Hey, who are you?!" one bellowed. "You're not allowed in here! This is a restricted area!"
Keller stepped forward, levelled his gauss rifle, and calmly blew the man's head clean off his shoulders in a hail of metal. The rest of the troops fanned out behind him, and the other two civilians finally realized what was wrong. that these men wore the colors of the enemy. "You rebel scum!" the second shouted, before they were both cut down by Keller's men. The gunfire apparently hadn't gone unnoticed, for as the force trooped through the area where the civilians had been, and walked down a winding set of stairs toward the center of the structure, a computerized alarm suddenly went off.
"Unauthorized entry detected," a harsh, male voice boomed over the building's loudspeaker system. "Sentry guns activating."
"Aw, shit!" Raynor swore, as just ahead and behind them, turreted machine- guns popped up out of the floor, and opened fire. The squad dove for any cover they could find, but two of the marines and a firebat got literally torn to pieces by the crossfire. Three of the guns got blown up as well, by the same crossfire, and then Raynor's men began to open up on them as well. No more men fell, but one took a stray bullet in the arm before all the sentry guns were finally reduced to smoking cinders. "Whew." Raynor muttered. As they proceeded, he paused a moment to look them over. "Everyone else okay?"
They all nodded, even the one who had taken the bullet in the arm. It didn't matter to him anymore, anyway. The armour was good: it had isolated the wound, and pumped his body full of painkillers and stimulants, as well as disinfectants. Thus, he wouldn't have to worry about it becoming infected on him. If all else failed, he would get it taken care of back aboard the Hyperion. They moved on deeper in, being very careful now. They were all hyped up on stim-packs, and their senses were now hyper-alert and overactive.
After a short while of walking through boring and empty corridors, Raynor turned a corner and found himself on a bridge overlooking a pit. Looking down into the pit before he could stop himself, his eyes widened with disgust and surprise. "What the hell?" he shouted, involuntarily activating his helmet comm-link to the Hyperion far above. "Zerg! I don't fuckin' believe this!"
The answering voice came a moment later, the sympathetic and cool tones of Arcturus Mengsk himself. "Believe it, Commander." The man seemed to sound old and harried. as though he were waging a war. But then again, maybe he was. "I saw Zerg held within Confederate holding pens myself, and that was over a year ago. It's clear now that the Confederates have known about these creatures for some time. Hell, for all we know they could be breeding the things!" he paused a moment, trying to get his anger at the Confederacy under control. "But be that as it may, Commander, our priority here is to access the Confederate datanet. We'll deal with the Zerg another day."
"Right," Raynor said, and led his men over the bridge, casting reviled glares down at the trapped Zerglings far below. He suspected they were getting closer to the center, where the main datanet was contained. That's the way most facilities like this were laid out: with sensitive and classified files and data at the very center, surrounded with layer after layer and floor after floor of protective armour.
Raynor's suspicions were confirmed a moment later as they rounded another corner, and ran smack into a group of six Alpha Squadron marines. "It's them! Blast 'em!" their leader shouted, but they were caught by surprise. The invaders already had their guns up, and were firing just as fast as the triggers would press. The six enemy marines were blown all over the corridor. Some were violently decapitated, others had the front of their suits caved in by incessant pounding of high-speed bullets. Just behind where the splattered marines now lay, was a heavy double-blast door.
Bingo: the datanet was here. They stormed the room, having to blow open the doors with not just one but three C-4 charges. Once in, they fanned out with military precision, methodically slaughtering anyone within. Then one of the marines, one Tech Sgt. Amir Vondoska, walked to the computers, already pulling something out of a small pack carried beneath his armour's chestplate. It turned out to be a hacker's disc, no larger than a compact disc from Earth's older history. Once inserted into the disk drive of any computer, it would automatically copy anything that occupied that computer's memory. Vondoska slid the disc in, and tapped a few keys on the keyboard console, waiting.
After about two minutes, he removed the disc, and stowed it, turning to Raynor. "Mission accomplished, sir," he said, his voice light and tinny. Raynor nodded once, satisfied, and then motioned them to pull out, double- time.
As they ran through the complex, retracing their steps to get back out again, Raynor activated his helmet-comm, radioing up their success to the ship. "Hey, we've found the plans, man!" His voice was tinged with excitement, and a wonder of just what it was that they stole. "Have the transports waitin' when we come out." They didn't encounter any resistance on the way out, and about fifteen minutes later they tore out the front gates as though the hounds of hell were on their tails. They pelted up the ramps to the dropships, and Raynor barked an order to the pilots: "Get us out of here!"
** ** **
Aboard the Hyperion, Mengsk stood together with Yates, now on the bridge of the mighty ship. As yet unintroduced, Kerrigan stood unobtrusively in the shadows at the portside-aft side of the bridge, surveying everything with a cool air. Her bright green eyes, augmented by the powerful elements of her HEV suit, swept over Yates, measuring him up. She'd already seen Commander Raynor, though only through the closed-circuit monitors at the aft of the bridge. A shiver ran through her, and she had to fight off the immediate feelings she felt stirring for him. (Stop it!) she told herself fiercely. (You're a soldier, and this is war. you have no time to fall in love with anyone!)
But yet, as she heard the transmission from Raynor signifying a successful mission, her heart sped up ever so slightly, despite her efforts to contain it. Now she stood, watching, as the trio of dropships headed back up to orbit, hauling ass like a bat out of hell itself. She'd felt a stir of fear and anger when Raynor had reported the sighting of the Zerg, that was for sure. But, now that they were about to abandon this god- forsaken world, she began to feel better.
Just a little bit.
** ** **
In the wake of the chaos resulting from the Zerg invasion, the Sons of Korhal escaped Mar Sara with the stolen Confederate data.
The Sons of Korhal, with Yates, Keller, and Raynor in tow, fled to the border colony of Antiga Prime, to plan their next crucial moves against the Confederacy.
Thirteen hours after the evacuation of Mar Sara, Protoss warships took up high orbit around the colony and unleashed a massive planetary barrage.
All life upon the surface was extinguished.