Heroes Never Die
Chapter 7: Smoke and Mirrors
By: Dark-Elk
"UER Control, this is Commander Owens of Firespray Squadron. We're inbound now with a Dominion convoy in tow," said Commander Talas Owens. "We dropped the convoy crew off on a Dominion moon before we left, so we're completely clean, no losses."
"Commander Owens, the admiral sends her congratulations, and orders that you have your subordinates oversee the landing. She wishes to see you personally upon your arrival at Vengeful," said the voice of one of the anonymous Control personnel, her accent making every word seem exotic.
"Copy Control. Firespray Lead is coming in for landing. Firespray Duece?" asked Owens.
"Yes sir?" Firespray Duece was a young man, maybe in his young twenties, one of the younger pilots the UER was forced to employ.
"Duece, oversee the convoy rendezvous on the surface with the bulk haulers. They know what to do, and you shouldn't have any problems."
"Roger sir, we'll have this convoy down and emptied out ASAP."
Owens returned his hand to his flight stick, lazily turning his fighter towards the space platform Vengeful where the command crew oversaw the planet below. The station was an agglomerate of trash and spare components added onto the remains of a battered Behemoth-class Battlecruiser. It only barely managed to hold orbit, and keeping the life support operational was a continuous uphill. Scattered lights flickered in seemingly random combinations across its' rough surface, delineating the approach vector for the docking bays. Owens had flown this approach vector more times than he could possibly count, and was already lost in his thoughts as his body automatically carried out the approach.
We're lucky to be here, thought Owens. If that Zerg bitch Kerrigan had been a bit more diligent, we wouldn't be.
The UER had formed much as Owens had told the commander of the Star Child, from the battered remnants of the UED Expeditionary Fleet. After the startling and decisive loss to Kerrigan in that final battle, where against all odds the Zerg had managed to turn a battle that was against them three to one into pure victory, the UED fleet had consolidated its' forces and begun the long trek back to Terra, intent upon gathering a larger fleet and returning. Kerrigan had discovered the retreat, and sent the majority of the Swarm streaking after them, nipping at their heels until finally most of their fleet had fallen to attrition. In a final apocalyptic battle, the UED commander had sacrificed nearly two-dozen damaged Battlecruisers, detonating all nuclear warheads onboard in succession. The devastation had annihilated most of the Zerg following them, but had deprived the UED of its' much needed supplies and firepower. Without the supplies that had been upon those Battlecruisers, the ragged assortment of Wraiths, Valkyries, Dropships, and Science Vessels didn't have the choice to leave the Koprulu sector and retreat to Terra anymore. Only a trio of Battlecruisers had survived, the Czar, the Intrepid, and the Picket. All were in various stages of destruction, but had retained their flight engines and most of their weaponry. The trio of Battlecruisers became the nexus for the fleet, and the remainder of the support craft clutched to them as they sought out refuge amongst the worlds on the fringe of the Koprulu sector.
Finally, after two nearly fruitless years of searching, the engines on the Intrepid began to fail. The remnants of the UED were already too few, and knew that they needed every life to continue to survive in the Koprulu sector, but the other Battlecruisers' life support systems were already failing. The last world the fleet jumped to was, by an amazing twist of fate, a near-perfect world for Terran colonization. The temperature was perfect, the atmosphere a near replica of Terra, and no sentient species graced its' surface. The fleet ceased its' vagabond voyage, claiming the world for their own, naming it Sanctuary. A base camp was set up on the surface, primitive at first, but slowly being built up until it was a lone city on an otherwise primitive planet. The crew of the Intrepid was offloaded to the surface, and the Battlecruiser slowly morphed into the space platform Vengeful as more quarters and weapons were added onto the immobile cruiser. The command staff took over the cruiser as their own, managing the new UER from orbit. Resources were abundant on Sanctuary and its' twin moons, and the UER quickly regained the capabilities to manufacture their own starships, but only Wraiths and Valkyries were within their grasp.
Owens glided softly into the docking bay, a small smile gracing his lips. He remembered the turbulent entry of the UED fleet, the battle that ground it to shreds, and every step until Sanctuary had been stumbled upon. He liked to think that there was some greater power amongst the stars, guiding the wayward fleet after their humiliating defeat, and that was why they had found such a bountiful world. He flipped a few switches on his command board, and his landing repulsors activated with a surge of energy. A few more switches powered down his engine nacelles, and he glided on the repulsors until he reached his designated deck space. The repulsors snapped off, and his craft dropped a few feet onto the metallic deck plating with a bone-rattling thud. He slapped the button for his flight canopy with his left fist, waiting patiently as the mechanism tested external air pressure, and then finally flipped open. He hopped out of his Wraith, landing on one of the Wings. The fighter shook from the impact, and he waited for a few moments before leaping down to the deck. A few mechanics sauntered over to him.
"Commander Owens, how did it go?"
"Fine, thanks. No losses, not even a shot fired," answered Owens with pride. "The Dominion forces just folded up and surrendered. The convoy has some pretty nice equipment, so you boys may want to get yourselves over to Requisitions to claim it as it comes in. Wouldn't want those guys on the surface to get it, would you?"
One of the mechanics grinned broadly. "No sir, we wouldn't. The ground- pounders don't need that kind of stuff anyway. Does your Wraith need any repairs, Commander?"
"The port alluvial dampener acted up a bit, but nothing too major. Shouldn't be a big problem, I'd think. And you could probably see if you can squeeze a little more speed out of those engines if you have spare time."
"No problem sir!" The UER mechanics loved the opportunity to "optimize" fighters; only rarely would they be able to improve performance, but it gave them something to do during the boring moments. Besides, if they did stumble onto a useful modification, promotions and pay bonuses often followed.
Owens walked out of the hanger, leaving the ecstatic mechanics behind to marvel at the new gear they could soon possess, and all the wonders they could perform with it. He shook his head and laughed as he entered the lift. He punched in his keycode and the code for the admiral's office with a rush of anticipation. He and the admiral had been romantically involved with each other for nearly two years now, and her welcomes upon his return were always something to look forward to. The lift shuddered into motion, quickly spanning the gap between decks. A buzzing noise signaled his arrival, and he touched a pad beside the door. The doors slid smoothly open, and he stepped out into a small hallway. Only two doors were in this hall; one led to the admiral's office, the other to her private quarters. Over the past few years, Commander Owens had spent much time in both rooms.
He walked over to her office door, knocking sharply upon the thin metal. A muffled shout within invited him in, and he opened the door and walked in. The admiral was sitting behind her desk with her feet kicked up upon it, smiling broadly at Owens. Long brown hair was tied in a tight bun at the base of her skull, but her bangs were left long in the front, and her tanned skin and well-developed body had made more than a few other officers jealous of Owens. For Owens, her looks meant little, because she hadn't been given the rank of admiral for her looks. Underneath her beautifully sculpted face lie the most brilliant tactical mind the UER had possession of.
"Tracy, it's been far too long," said Owens. "What have you been up to for the past few weeks?"
Admiral Tracy Hirsch's smile grew wider, and she said "The usual. Commanding the UER fleet, coordinating long distance strike forces. Missing you."
"I missed you too, dear," said Owens as he bent over and kissed her. A few moments passed, and then they broke their kiss. Owens sat in the chair opposite the desk, knowing that business did need to have some place in this reunion, and the sooner it was finished, the sooner they could enjoy themselves.
"Talas, your mission went well, yes?' asked Tracy.
"Yep. No shots except the one the Dominion captain felt compelled to fire into his skull."
Tracy laughed, and asked "What all did you salvage from the bastards?"
"We got the convoy tender that the captain was on. . .the Star Child, if I remember right. We liberated about a half dozen Wraiths, none of them fitted with cloaking fields, and we got the convoy ships of course. Bulk haulers, but useful nonetheless. And of course we got all the supplies they were carrying. The bastard captain wiped the databanks of the Star Child, but we got to one of the bulk haulers before it got the chance, so we've got some new intel on Dominion activities," He thought for a moment before continuing. "The soldiers that boarded the Star Child say it looks like something was destroyed in the hold before we got there. They had no clue what it was, so maybe the techs can figure it out."
"Excellent, Talas! All of that will be helpful for future missions, especially that data from the hauler. You know as well as I do that Dominion intel is more valuable than the equipment you dragged back."
Owens nodded slowly. "After we had control of the ships, we herded the Dominion crewmembers over to a transport," Owens paused as he pulled a datapad from his pocket and punched a few keys, "The DuGalle-class transport Strident. They were going to go drop the crew off on one of the colony worlds. They left shortly before we did, so I'd imagine they'll be back soon."
Tracy's face was passive for a few moments before she spoke again. "Probably the best decision you could have made under the circumstances. As much as loathe giving the Dominion back their soldiers, killing prisoners is not an option. If we started killing innocents. . .we'd end up like the Dominion."
"I guess that's about the whole of the mission, Admiral Hirsch. Zero casualties and wounded, no damage to our assets. . .all in all, an outstanding success."
Tracy barked a short laugh. "That'll teach the Dominion to send out such poorly guarded convoys. A half-dozen Wraiths and a convoy tender guarding such a large convoy filled to the brim with materials and intel, not to mention whatever was stashed in the Star Child's hold."
She laughed again, but cut it short as a small yellow light began blinking on her desk. She swung her feet off of the top and flipped up the communications screen. She looked over at Owens and nodded briefly. He stood and exited the room with a brief wave and a slight smile on his face. Admiral Hirsch returned the wave, and then activated the communications screen. A male technician with a gaunt face smeared with swatches of grease appeared, and saluted her briefly.
"Admiral, Commander Owens wanted us to notify you if we discovered anything about the object that was destroyed in the hold of the Star Child. We're not entirely sure at this point, but it appears to have been something incorporating both Terran and Protoss technologies."
"Any idea what this object's purpose was?"
"We're not too sure. Technician Jens took a look at it, and she said that the Protoss technology that was part of this seems to be something dealing with gravity manipulation, like a repulsor or an engine. It's curious though. . .it doesn't look like it was meant to propel something. That's just a guess though."
Admiral Hirsch's face slowly drained of color. "I need all the information you can gather about this device as soon as possible. Contact me again when you discover something new."
She reached over and turned off the display and rubbed a hand across her face, trying to understand this new information. What could the Dominion be doing with Terran and Protoss technology that needed a device that could manipulate gravity? Her mind wandered for a few moments before the answer presented itself. The Dominion bastards were designing a weapon that used gravity. Her heart sunk as she hoped she wasn't right, and she reached over to press the door button let Owens back in. As her finger pressed the button, a red light began flashing on her console. Across the office the door slid open, and Owens began to walk in. He caught sight of the red light, smiled sheepishly, and walked back out of the office. The door slid shut behind him, and Admiral Hirsch tapped the button to activate the display again.
"Admiral, we've just received a distress signal from the Strident. It. . .it doesn't look good. They sent video feed. Would you like to view it?"
Admiral Hirsch nodded, and the screen changed into an array of a half-dozen security camera views. An explosion boiled through one of the bulkheads in one of the cameras, spraying debris across the hallway. The smoke rolled across the camera, temporarily obscuring the view for a few seconds before it cleared. A trio of figures entered through the newly created entrance, smoke swirling around them as they floated down the hall. Admiral Hirsch leaned closer to the screen, her eyes straining to recognize what the figures were. All she could make out was that the seemed to look like the Protoss, but they seemed to have an ethereal quality about them, as though she could look directly through them. She chided her imagination, trying to keep in mind that the smoke was distorting the cameras.
One of the figures halted and turned to the camera. It raised its' hand, and the last view the camera showed was a massive spray of energy streaking towards it. The Admiral lunged backwards out of surprise, but then she leaned forward again. The other camera leads were still playing; one was showing the Dominion prisoners milling about in the hold of the Strident. One of the intruders entered the chamber, pausing only slightly as a few of the prisoners rushed towards it. The figure drew a dark blade from its' side, quickly slashing and killing the attacking prisoners. The remaining prisoners started screaming and running around frantically, but the figure efficiently and methodically slew them all, one by one. The figure turned to the camera, destroying it with another energy blast.
Two more cameras had been destroyed while Admiral Hirsch watched in horrible fascination, leaving only the two that centered on the bridge. The UER crew had armed itself and barricaded the door, but as the Admiral watched the doors glowed for a few seconds before exploding inwards, crashing through the assembled defenders. One of the bridge crew could be seen crawling along the floor to a bridge station. He dragged himself up to the console, tapped a few buttons frantically, and then turned to the camera and saluted briefly before drawing his sidearm and opening fire upon the figures.
The figures both had their dark blades out, blood slowly dripping off the edges. The rest of the bridge was an abattoir; fragments of bodies were strewn across the deck plating, and blood was splattered liberally across the bulkheads, almost decoratively. The figures advanced slowly, seemingly relishing in the fight this target was offering. The spray of bullets continued, but the crewmember either had horrible aim or the figures were somehow deflecting his bullets. The blades flashed a few times before the figures backed away, the mangled remains of the crewmember plainly visible. Alarm lighting flared on, causing the figures to look around, clearly confused. The screens all blanked out, and then the camera feeds died, replaced by the communications officer.
"That's what they sent us. The pattern of the lighting suggests that the crewmember, who we've tentatively identified as Gunnery Sergeant Ryan Fields, activated the self-destruct sequence for the engines. We've been unable to raise them since this was sent."
Admiral Hirsch brushed away the tears that were slowly dripping down her face, and asked, "What the hell were those things?"
The officer shook her head. "I'm not sure, Admiral. Intelligence hasn't had enough time with this video, but even they are at a loss. If we had the Strident in our possession, perhaps we could figure it out, but if the engines were detonated, I doubt there will be any remains."
"Is there anything in the media about this?"
"Dominion news media is running a story saying that Captain James Raynor of the dissident group Raynor's Raiders ambushed the convoy and took them hostage. No official response has been issued from the group, and there probably won't be any, knowing him."
Admiral Hirsch nodded slowly. "Call me if you figure anything else out." Again she pressed the button to open the door. Owens walked in again, pausing at the doorway.
"Can I stay in this time?" he asked with a smile, but it quickly faded when he saw Admiral Hirsch's somber face. "Tracy. . .what happened?"
"The techs called and said they think the device was some sort of gravity manipulator. I think it may be a weapon. And the communication officer just relayed the final communication of the Strident to me."
The color in Owens' face slowly drained, leaving behind a dull ashen look. "What the hell happened?"
Admiral Hirsch pressed a button on her desk, activating the large view screen on the wall. A few more buttons began the recording of the assault. She looked away, unwilling to see the slaughter again, but she could still see it playing vividly in her mind, frame for frame, up until the final defiant stand of the gunnery sergeant. Owens sat silent for a few minutes before speaking.
"We have to go find out what happened. We need to find the bastards that killed the Strident, and we have to go tear them a new one."
"I don't know if that's an option, Talas. . .but we do need to find out more. I'm sending you back out. You can take whatever forces you think necessary. Consider this a recon in force."
Talas stood and saluted Admiral Hirsch. "When do you want me to leave?"
"Not before you and I get to spend a little time alone. We both need to do something to take our minds off of this. Issue the orders and gather your force together; you can probably leave here in twelve hours."
A broad grin slowly spread across Commander Owens' face. "I'd be delighted to spend some time with you, Tracy." He offered his arm to her as she stood and walked around the desk. She slid her arm through his, and they both walked out the open door, leaving behind their worries of a new threat.
Chapter 7: Smoke and Mirrors
By: Dark-Elk
"UER Control, this is Commander Owens of Firespray Squadron. We're inbound now with a Dominion convoy in tow," said Commander Talas Owens. "We dropped the convoy crew off on a Dominion moon before we left, so we're completely clean, no losses."
"Commander Owens, the admiral sends her congratulations, and orders that you have your subordinates oversee the landing. She wishes to see you personally upon your arrival at Vengeful," said the voice of one of the anonymous Control personnel, her accent making every word seem exotic.
"Copy Control. Firespray Lead is coming in for landing. Firespray Duece?" asked Owens.
"Yes sir?" Firespray Duece was a young man, maybe in his young twenties, one of the younger pilots the UER was forced to employ.
"Duece, oversee the convoy rendezvous on the surface with the bulk haulers. They know what to do, and you shouldn't have any problems."
"Roger sir, we'll have this convoy down and emptied out ASAP."
Owens returned his hand to his flight stick, lazily turning his fighter towards the space platform Vengeful where the command crew oversaw the planet below. The station was an agglomerate of trash and spare components added onto the remains of a battered Behemoth-class Battlecruiser. It only barely managed to hold orbit, and keeping the life support operational was a continuous uphill. Scattered lights flickered in seemingly random combinations across its' rough surface, delineating the approach vector for the docking bays. Owens had flown this approach vector more times than he could possibly count, and was already lost in his thoughts as his body automatically carried out the approach.
We're lucky to be here, thought Owens. If that Zerg bitch Kerrigan had been a bit more diligent, we wouldn't be.
The UER had formed much as Owens had told the commander of the Star Child, from the battered remnants of the UED Expeditionary Fleet. After the startling and decisive loss to Kerrigan in that final battle, where against all odds the Zerg had managed to turn a battle that was against them three to one into pure victory, the UED fleet had consolidated its' forces and begun the long trek back to Terra, intent upon gathering a larger fleet and returning. Kerrigan had discovered the retreat, and sent the majority of the Swarm streaking after them, nipping at their heels until finally most of their fleet had fallen to attrition. In a final apocalyptic battle, the UED commander had sacrificed nearly two-dozen damaged Battlecruisers, detonating all nuclear warheads onboard in succession. The devastation had annihilated most of the Zerg following them, but had deprived the UED of its' much needed supplies and firepower. Without the supplies that had been upon those Battlecruisers, the ragged assortment of Wraiths, Valkyries, Dropships, and Science Vessels didn't have the choice to leave the Koprulu sector and retreat to Terra anymore. Only a trio of Battlecruisers had survived, the Czar, the Intrepid, and the Picket. All were in various stages of destruction, but had retained their flight engines and most of their weaponry. The trio of Battlecruisers became the nexus for the fleet, and the remainder of the support craft clutched to them as they sought out refuge amongst the worlds on the fringe of the Koprulu sector.
Finally, after two nearly fruitless years of searching, the engines on the Intrepid began to fail. The remnants of the UED were already too few, and knew that they needed every life to continue to survive in the Koprulu sector, but the other Battlecruisers' life support systems were already failing. The last world the fleet jumped to was, by an amazing twist of fate, a near-perfect world for Terran colonization. The temperature was perfect, the atmosphere a near replica of Terra, and no sentient species graced its' surface. The fleet ceased its' vagabond voyage, claiming the world for their own, naming it Sanctuary. A base camp was set up on the surface, primitive at first, but slowly being built up until it was a lone city on an otherwise primitive planet. The crew of the Intrepid was offloaded to the surface, and the Battlecruiser slowly morphed into the space platform Vengeful as more quarters and weapons were added onto the immobile cruiser. The command staff took over the cruiser as their own, managing the new UER from orbit. Resources were abundant on Sanctuary and its' twin moons, and the UER quickly regained the capabilities to manufacture their own starships, but only Wraiths and Valkyries were within their grasp.
Owens glided softly into the docking bay, a small smile gracing his lips. He remembered the turbulent entry of the UED fleet, the battle that ground it to shreds, and every step until Sanctuary had been stumbled upon. He liked to think that there was some greater power amongst the stars, guiding the wayward fleet after their humiliating defeat, and that was why they had found such a bountiful world. He flipped a few switches on his command board, and his landing repulsors activated with a surge of energy. A few more switches powered down his engine nacelles, and he glided on the repulsors until he reached his designated deck space. The repulsors snapped off, and his craft dropped a few feet onto the metallic deck plating with a bone-rattling thud. He slapped the button for his flight canopy with his left fist, waiting patiently as the mechanism tested external air pressure, and then finally flipped open. He hopped out of his Wraith, landing on one of the Wings. The fighter shook from the impact, and he waited for a few moments before leaping down to the deck. A few mechanics sauntered over to him.
"Commander Owens, how did it go?"
"Fine, thanks. No losses, not even a shot fired," answered Owens with pride. "The Dominion forces just folded up and surrendered. The convoy has some pretty nice equipment, so you boys may want to get yourselves over to Requisitions to claim it as it comes in. Wouldn't want those guys on the surface to get it, would you?"
One of the mechanics grinned broadly. "No sir, we wouldn't. The ground- pounders don't need that kind of stuff anyway. Does your Wraith need any repairs, Commander?"
"The port alluvial dampener acted up a bit, but nothing too major. Shouldn't be a big problem, I'd think. And you could probably see if you can squeeze a little more speed out of those engines if you have spare time."
"No problem sir!" The UER mechanics loved the opportunity to "optimize" fighters; only rarely would they be able to improve performance, but it gave them something to do during the boring moments. Besides, if they did stumble onto a useful modification, promotions and pay bonuses often followed.
Owens walked out of the hanger, leaving the ecstatic mechanics behind to marvel at the new gear they could soon possess, and all the wonders they could perform with it. He shook his head and laughed as he entered the lift. He punched in his keycode and the code for the admiral's office with a rush of anticipation. He and the admiral had been romantically involved with each other for nearly two years now, and her welcomes upon his return were always something to look forward to. The lift shuddered into motion, quickly spanning the gap between decks. A buzzing noise signaled his arrival, and he touched a pad beside the door. The doors slid smoothly open, and he stepped out into a small hallway. Only two doors were in this hall; one led to the admiral's office, the other to her private quarters. Over the past few years, Commander Owens had spent much time in both rooms.
He walked over to her office door, knocking sharply upon the thin metal. A muffled shout within invited him in, and he opened the door and walked in. The admiral was sitting behind her desk with her feet kicked up upon it, smiling broadly at Owens. Long brown hair was tied in a tight bun at the base of her skull, but her bangs were left long in the front, and her tanned skin and well-developed body had made more than a few other officers jealous of Owens. For Owens, her looks meant little, because she hadn't been given the rank of admiral for her looks. Underneath her beautifully sculpted face lie the most brilliant tactical mind the UER had possession of.
"Tracy, it's been far too long," said Owens. "What have you been up to for the past few weeks?"
Admiral Tracy Hirsch's smile grew wider, and she said "The usual. Commanding the UER fleet, coordinating long distance strike forces. Missing you."
"I missed you too, dear," said Owens as he bent over and kissed her. A few moments passed, and then they broke their kiss. Owens sat in the chair opposite the desk, knowing that business did need to have some place in this reunion, and the sooner it was finished, the sooner they could enjoy themselves.
"Talas, your mission went well, yes?' asked Tracy.
"Yep. No shots except the one the Dominion captain felt compelled to fire into his skull."
Tracy laughed, and asked "What all did you salvage from the bastards?"
"We got the convoy tender that the captain was on. . .the Star Child, if I remember right. We liberated about a half dozen Wraiths, none of them fitted with cloaking fields, and we got the convoy ships of course. Bulk haulers, but useful nonetheless. And of course we got all the supplies they were carrying. The bastard captain wiped the databanks of the Star Child, but we got to one of the bulk haulers before it got the chance, so we've got some new intel on Dominion activities," He thought for a moment before continuing. "The soldiers that boarded the Star Child say it looks like something was destroyed in the hold before we got there. They had no clue what it was, so maybe the techs can figure it out."
"Excellent, Talas! All of that will be helpful for future missions, especially that data from the hauler. You know as well as I do that Dominion intel is more valuable than the equipment you dragged back."
Owens nodded slowly. "After we had control of the ships, we herded the Dominion crewmembers over to a transport," Owens paused as he pulled a datapad from his pocket and punched a few keys, "The DuGalle-class transport Strident. They were going to go drop the crew off on one of the colony worlds. They left shortly before we did, so I'd imagine they'll be back soon."
Tracy's face was passive for a few moments before she spoke again. "Probably the best decision you could have made under the circumstances. As much as loathe giving the Dominion back their soldiers, killing prisoners is not an option. If we started killing innocents. . .we'd end up like the Dominion."
"I guess that's about the whole of the mission, Admiral Hirsch. Zero casualties and wounded, no damage to our assets. . .all in all, an outstanding success."
Tracy barked a short laugh. "That'll teach the Dominion to send out such poorly guarded convoys. A half-dozen Wraiths and a convoy tender guarding such a large convoy filled to the brim with materials and intel, not to mention whatever was stashed in the Star Child's hold."
She laughed again, but cut it short as a small yellow light began blinking on her desk. She swung her feet off of the top and flipped up the communications screen. She looked over at Owens and nodded briefly. He stood and exited the room with a brief wave and a slight smile on his face. Admiral Hirsch returned the wave, and then activated the communications screen. A male technician with a gaunt face smeared with swatches of grease appeared, and saluted her briefly.
"Admiral, Commander Owens wanted us to notify you if we discovered anything about the object that was destroyed in the hold of the Star Child. We're not entirely sure at this point, but it appears to have been something incorporating both Terran and Protoss technologies."
"Any idea what this object's purpose was?"
"We're not too sure. Technician Jens took a look at it, and she said that the Protoss technology that was part of this seems to be something dealing with gravity manipulation, like a repulsor or an engine. It's curious though. . .it doesn't look like it was meant to propel something. That's just a guess though."
Admiral Hirsch's face slowly drained of color. "I need all the information you can gather about this device as soon as possible. Contact me again when you discover something new."
She reached over and turned off the display and rubbed a hand across her face, trying to understand this new information. What could the Dominion be doing with Terran and Protoss technology that needed a device that could manipulate gravity? Her mind wandered for a few moments before the answer presented itself. The Dominion bastards were designing a weapon that used gravity. Her heart sunk as she hoped she wasn't right, and she reached over to press the door button let Owens back in. As her finger pressed the button, a red light began flashing on her console. Across the office the door slid open, and Owens began to walk in. He caught sight of the red light, smiled sheepishly, and walked back out of the office. The door slid shut behind him, and Admiral Hirsch tapped the button to activate the display again.
"Admiral, we've just received a distress signal from the Strident. It. . .it doesn't look good. They sent video feed. Would you like to view it?"
Admiral Hirsch nodded, and the screen changed into an array of a half-dozen security camera views. An explosion boiled through one of the bulkheads in one of the cameras, spraying debris across the hallway. The smoke rolled across the camera, temporarily obscuring the view for a few seconds before it cleared. A trio of figures entered through the newly created entrance, smoke swirling around them as they floated down the hall. Admiral Hirsch leaned closer to the screen, her eyes straining to recognize what the figures were. All she could make out was that the seemed to look like the Protoss, but they seemed to have an ethereal quality about them, as though she could look directly through them. She chided her imagination, trying to keep in mind that the smoke was distorting the cameras.
One of the figures halted and turned to the camera. It raised its' hand, and the last view the camera showed was a massive spray of energy streaking towards it. The Admiral lunged backwards out of surprise, but then she leaned forward again. The other camera leads were still playing; one was showing the Dominion prisoners milling about in the hold of the Strident. One of the intruders entered the chamber, pausing only slightly as a few of the prisoners rushed towards it. The figure drew a dark blade from its' side, quickly slashing and killing the attacking prisoners. The remaining prisoners started screaming and running around frantically, but the figure efficiently and methodically slew them all, one by one. The figure turned to the camera, destroying it with another energy blast.
Two more cameras had been destroyed while Admiral Hirsch watched in horrible fascination, leaving only the two that centered on the bridge. The UER crew had armed itself and barricaded the door, but as the Admiral watched the doors glowed for a few seconds before exploding inwards, crashing through the assembled defenders. One of the bridge crew could be seen crawling along the floor to a bridge station. He dragged himself up to the console, tapped a few buttons frantically, and then turned to the camera and saluted briefly before drawing his sidearm and opening fire upon the figures.
The figures both had their dark blades out, blood slowly dripping off the edges. The rest of the bridge was an abattoir; fragments of bodies were strewn across the deck plating, and blood was splattered liberally across the bulkheads, almost decoratively. The figures advanced slowly, seemingly relishing in the fight this target was offering. The spray of bullets continued, but the crewmember either had horrible aim or the figures were somehow deflecting his bullets. The blades flashed a few times before the figures backed away, the mangled remains of the crewmember plainly visible. Alarm lighting flared on, causing the figures to look around, clearly confused. The screens all blanked out, and then the camera feeds died, replaced by the communications officer.
"That's what they sent us. The pattern of the lighting suggests that the crewmember, who we've tentatively identified as Gunnery Sergeant Ryan Fields, activated the self-destruct sequence for the engines. We've been unable to raise them since this was sent."
Admiral Hirsch brushed away the tears that were slowly dripping down her face, and asked, "What the hell were those things?"
The officer shook her head. "I'm not sure, Admiral. Intelligence hasn't had enough time with this video, but even they are at a loss. If we had the Strident in our possession, perhaps we could figure it out, but if the engines were detonated, I doubt there will be any remains."
"Is there anything in the media about this?"
"Dominion news media is running a story saying that Captain James Raynor of the dissident group Raynor's Raiders ambushed the convoy and took them hostage. No official response has been issued from the group, and there probably won't be any, knowing him."
Admiral Hirsch nodded slowly. "Call me if you figure anything else out." Again she pressed the button to open the door. Owens walked in again, pausing at the doorway.
"Can I stay in this time?" he asked with a smile, but it quickly faded when he saw Admiral Hirsch's somber face. "Tracy. . .what happened?"
"The techs called and said they think the device was some sort of gravity manipulator. I think it may be a weapon. And the communication officer just relayed the final communication of the Strident to me."
The color in Owens' face slowly drained, leaving behind a dull ashen look. "What the hell happened?"
Admiral Hirsch pressed a button on her desk, activating the large view screen on the wall. A few more buttons began the recording of the assault. She looked away, unwilling to see the slaughter again, but she could still see it playing vividly in her mind, frame for frame, up until the final defiant stand of the gunnery sergeant. Owens sat silent for a few minutes before speaking.
"We have to go find out what happened. We need to find the bastards that killed the Strident, and we have to go tear them a new one."
"I don't know if that's an option, Talas. . .but we do need to find out more. I'm sending you back out. You can take whatever forces you think necessary. Consider this a recon in force."
Talas stood and saluted Admiral Hirsch. "When do you want me to leave?"
"Not before you and I get to spend a little time alone. We both need to do something to take our minds off of this. Issue the orders and gather your force together; you can probably leave here in twelve hours."
A broad grin slowly spread across Commander Owens' face. "I'd be delighted to spend some time with you, Tracy." He offered his arm to her as she stood and walked around the desk. She slid her arm through his, and they both walked out the open door, leaving behind their worries of a new threat.