A/N: Well, sorry for the long wait. But here's an important announcement: I'm starting up my own C2 community. It's called "The lions of Starcraft". If you think your writing would be worthwhile enough to be put in there, write to me or to one of my staff members and your demand will be taken into consideration.

Other news: Because I will be managing my C2, I won't be reviewing every story and chapter that comes out. I'll ask some of my staff to check the new stuff once in a while, though, so if you get a good review from one of my staff, then there's a chance your story could be added to the C2.

Now, for the chapter, the first part of it is my first attempt at making a first person view perspective. Tell me if you think it works.

Chapter 5: A war in the making

Staring at the golden, shining wall, I can't help but feel rage pounding upon each of my heart beats, rage at Thanatos, my "creator", as he called himself. What has he done to me? Was I like Terry before? I can't say that I can compare him to the ones in here. In this strange encampment, all the people look like ugly aliens, modeled after our "saviour", or so he proclaims to be. Who is he, anyway? My "friend" Terry seems to know him (but if I know him, why don't I remember anything? What's going on?). Punching the wall in front of me, I notice the strange glares of those aliens (called "Protoss" or "Salaha" by Terry, I don't remember which). One of them steps forward and speaks to me, in a psionic voice that's starting to give me a headache.

"Terran, please calm down. We must not awaken the fury of our enemies."

I couldn't care less about getting discovered by the freaks that turned me into what I was then. In fact, a part of me wanted to fight that Thanatos fellow again. Seeing my unfavorable reaction, the Protoss' eyes glared at me, puzzled. "Ferinas, why don't we get him to train with us?" Another Protoss asked the one in front of me, who answered, "Yes, brilliant idea. This terran's psionic strenght is great, but untrained." Looking at me, he spoke again. "Well, terran, what do you think?"

I nodded, wondering how exactly those people could train me. Quickly, though, I was in a small, cramped room, with a wise-looking being in front of me. Eyeing me with curiosity, he sighed, as though wondering what I exactly was. "Welcome, terran." His psionic voice was deeper than most Protoss', and I could feel his strenght and presence from where i stood. "Seems from what I heard that you have energy to spend." Malice appeared in his eyes, as though he was preparing to do me a bad prank. He continued. "Channel your power into a blade, if you may." He looked certain that I would fail.

Puzzled, I looked at my hand and focused my energies into it, trying to form a blade. Unfortunately, though, the energy refused to be contained, releasing itself as strings that almost pierced the walls.

The Protoss looked at me with awe. "What power..." he thought out loud. "Terran, listen to me..."

"Stop calling me 'terran', dammit!" I was annoyed. Terran this, terran that...Don't I have a name?

"Alright then...John, isn't it? My name is Lazertis, before you ask." He looked at me thoroughly, as if studying every part of me. "Your power is greater than you can imagine, easily exceeding that of a high templar. But that isn't much of a reference for a terran, isn't it?" He stopped for a moment before continuing. "Terry, your friend, seems to have great psionic powers, overaverage even for a terran ghost. But strangely, you exceed him on all counts, except for training, but that can be easily remedied. I'll make sure of that. Now, to begin real training, take those psionic channelers." He throws me two strange wristbands, assorted with little cavities. I put them around my wrists, and immediately I'm scolded by the old Protoss. "You are putting them the wrong way, John. Put them with the cavities facing in front of you. You'll understand later." I do as he says. "Good. Now, focus a bit of energy towards your wrist, and please, only a bit." He says, pointing towards the cracked walls. As I do so, small blades soar from the strange cavities, and immediately, I see why I had to put the cavities the other way; if I hadn't, my arm would have been sliced in half.

"All right. Now, let us see what you can do." The wise Protoss said, raising a staff.

Immediately, he leaped, and though I blocked his attack with my crossed blades, I could still feel his power pouring through the blades. Looks like I hadn't mastered the use of Protoss blades yet. Jumping high in the air, I extended my claw-like fingers, and suddenly, I lost control. I couldn't feel my body, I couldn't think; only the bloodlust of battle guided me, and I savagely leaped at the Protoss. Taken by surprise, he could only stare as I pierced through his staff, barely missing his head by inches.

I suddenly felt someone grabbing me by behind. "Goddamn it, John! Calm down!" Terry's voice boomed in my ears, as I struggled to get free. But strangely, my bloodlust was gone as suddenly as it came. Taking a deep breath, I stared curiously at Lazertis, and muttering that I was sorry, I was about to leave, until a powerful psionic echo rang through the room. Heck, I'm sure the whole building was shaking. Lazertis muttered, weakly, "They are moving..."

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Dr. Carsy looked at her door. Someone was there, obviously unsure whether to enter or not. "Come in." She said, hoping to encourage her unknown visitor to either enter or leave. The door then opened and in the room came the one man she didn't expect: Dan Kealer.

"Ah, hey..." Dan said, uneasy.

"Oh, it's you. The hearing's already over?" Dr. Carsy answered, surprised. Dan had to go to a disciplinary hearing, to answer about his actions towards the three neo-confederates.

"The hearing's over, and it seems no one will be punishin' me. Julie caught our conversation with those idiots on tape. You should have seen those assholes' eyes when they saw her advancing towards the military judge with that tape. The judge acknowledged that 'these people had looked for trouble', so, since I'm a general, I won't get anything close to a punishment. The three idiots, though, get six months in jail for 'attempt at intimidation on a military VIP'. Oh, and they get nine years for 'attempted murder'"

"Attempted murder?" The scientist almost fell from her bed. "What attempt at murder was there?"

"The second knife missed your head and mine by inches. Wouldn't we have been lucky, either you or I could have been killed, so the judge couldn't let that pass, since those neo-confederates always seem to look for trouble. I think that we won't have any problem with those morons for a while. Oh, and Mary...can I call you Mary?"

Surprised by the question, she quickly nodded.

"Thanks...anyway, how's your shoulder?"

"Oh, it's almost fine, general..."

He interrupted her, annoyed, "Call me Dan, not 'general'. Sounds too phony."

Smirking, she continues. "Well, Dan, it seems that it's probably fine now, but they'll check me up in an hour, just to be sure. Hey, I've been here for three days already, so they won't keep me here any longer; I already warned them."

"Eager to go back to work?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Oh, and what's this I hear about someone asking everyone for a little toll to buy something for an injured member of the staff..."

Embarassed, Kealer scratched his head. "So, someone told you, hey?"

"Yes, and from your reaction, I see you bought something for me, didn't you?"

Muttering "crap, who told her..." under his breath, Kealer almost ran out of the room, but stopped, and said to Mary, "Well, we'll see that in an hour, when you'll have left this room."

"Fine, then." Mary said, looking at Dan with curiosity. "Why did you buy something for me, though? You don't do that, usually." Then, looking at him wit disgust, she said, "If it's to try to get me to go out with you, don't you even..."

Suddenly, an alarm sounded all around the room, and both felt their hearts stop for a second, as a voice echoed all around the military infirmary.

"Warning! Red Alert! All military personnel immediately report to their battle stations! This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill!"

Blessing the gods for such a timing, Dan ran out of the room and was immediately greeted by a frail marine, who said, after a sharp salute,

"Sir! I have been asked to guide you towards the Comm. room immediately."

Quickly, Dan and the marine ran full speed towards the communications headquarters, luckily not too far from the central infirmary, and the communications officer immediately looked at Dan, his eyes showing nervosity and fear. A chaotic technical chatter filled the small, dimly lit room, with the lighting a bloody red because of the alert.

"General," the officer started, "You have arrived at the right time. Considering the situation, we were forced to call a planet-wide alert."

"What? You're the ones who did this?" Dan blurted out. "And why would you get the entire city, no, the entire PLANET, into a frenzy?"

"Hostile assault. We can't identify it yet." A technician suddenly spoke. "Captain. We have visual. I'm patching the images through."

Looking at the main communications monitor, most of the technicians almost screamed. Dan, though, recognized the ships from the Protoss observer's memory: these were the same beings who had attacked the Protoss outpost, and most likely, attacked Star Ray. Only this time, thanks to Mar Sara's reinforced security, they were about to get a warm welcome. "What's their ETA?" Dan asked.

Another tech, looking at his monitor, spoke in such a tone that he seemed about to faint. "An hour, maybe two." Looking at Dan, he added, "But tell me, sir: Are we about to die?"

"You've heard of the Brood War, right?" Dan asked, bitter. The tech looked at his screen again, embarrassed he had even asked this question. Dan continued. "You haven't lived that war, so you don't know how it was..." His voice then took a sarcastic tone. "...but lucky you! You have another one starting. Don't worry, though. Someone had to live through it to tell you about it, so you've got a chance of survival." Patting the tech's shoulder, he turned towards the comm. Officer. "Captain," Dan looked at the officer, "Patch me through to the boys' radio." The officer quickly typed in a few commands and passed the microphone to Kealer, who took it with a rough, serious look upon his face. Clearing his throat, he spoke, as all the soldiers of Mar Sara listened intently, turning their PCDs' volume higher to listen to the general.

"All right, you guys, get ready to get some of your steam off. Say bye to your families, bye to your lives, and bye to your souls. On the battlefield, you need none of those. The ones we're facing are the bastards who attacked outpost Star Ray, so just give 'em a warm welcome!" A loud cheer echoed through the hallways of the military command center. "Don't think you'll have it easy, though. These things may be stronger than even those goddamn zerg. Oh, and Jack, if you're hearing this, I'm still going to play poker with you tonight...that is, if you're still alive."

Turning the microphone off, Dan passed it back to the officer. The monitor turned on, and Raynor's face appeared into the screen. Never since the Brood War did he look so worried.

"So, it starts again..." He muttered, frowning.

"Yep. I guess you heard my little speech."

"Well, that and the alarms sounding everywhere." He tried to laugh, but Dan could see that the emperor felt more like crying. "Any news from Kerrigan?"

"Nope. Still don't know where she is. Think she'll attack us?"

"No. She's strong, but smart. Those new freaks are probably more than even she can handle, so she'll let us alone...for now, at least."

"I hope so..." Dan said, looking at the radar, and at the dots quickly closing in on Mar Sara. "We've got enough to worry about."

"Right. I'll let you do your battle preparations. Good luck...I'm counting on you. Raynor out."

The screen went black and Kealer took a deep breath. Looking at the captain, he asked, "What's their destination?"

"Fenixburg" One of the techs said. Kealer smiled. He then said, simply, "I'll take it from here."

Stepping aside, the comm. Officer looked at the general with worried eyes. Never in his eight years as communications officer had he ever seen such a serious, angry look in the face of the charismatic, joyful general.

Kealer sat down on the main desk and put on a little communications helmet, and he looked at the field. It was chaos. No organisation at all. Clearing his throat, he started putting his crew in order. "All right. ZD dropships, load your men and take them right under coordinates Z98, S23, E15. Battlecruisers Duran, Tassadar, and mother ship Hyperion, take your fighters and put them in A-3 wing formation around those dropships. Battlecruiser Daredevil, you and your fighters will be the backup squad. DST Dropships, load Siege tank squadrons Zeus and Diablo and follow up. CW Dropships, pick up Goliath squadrons Frankenstein and Smurf, then catch up with the ZD dropships. Move it people! You've got one hour!"

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The alarms echoed since an hour in the city of Fenixburg, new capital of Mar Sara, and most people just ran like headless chickens, panicking. One man, though, caped in black, walked calmly through the crowd, his destination only clear to himself. Another war was starting. "Finally," he muttered, staring at the dropships evacuating the civilians, some of the patients of the civilian hospitals being brought in with wheelchairs. "Go away, cowards. Let the real fighters do their jobs." He had a strange, soothing voice, a French accent apparent in every word. Arriving in front of his house, he smiled, his face shrouded in black, his blood-shot eyes staring at the sky, more and more filled with a huge dark cloud. "Time for a fight."

Saying this, he entered his house, taking his once beloved rifle, and waited, his clandestine radio picking up the constant military chatter. He listened to the command chatter with interest. "Enemy ETA fifty seconds." "Battlecruisers Tassadar, Duran and Daredevil in position, fighters in formation, awaiting orders." "Dropship squadrons ZD and CW in position, awaiting orders." "DST squadron got loading troubles. ETA 10 minutes." "This is mother ship Hyperion. 15 minutes ETA," "Can't you get there faster? We need those fighters!" "Negative. Too far from the designated location." "Fools" The man said to himself. "They're attacking an unknown enemy up front? Those idiots!" And so, he ran quickly out of his house, and went not to the escape dropship, but to the military training grounds. Swiftly, he stole a ghost's uniform from the unguarded lockers, before dashing towards the drop zone of a few dropships, which were evidently carrying marines. He maybe was officially a civilian now, but that didn't matter. It was war...

End of the chapter

A/N: Who's that weird fellow? How's the battle going to be? What the hell ARE those things anyway? Find out...when I'll feel like it. See ya next chapter! Oh, and within this chapter are little mentions about a few starcraft Fanfiction writers. If you can see all of them (there are 3), I tip my cap to you.