So, I got a few notes from people regarding this story. Some wondered if it was wise to make it so obvious who Paula is, and who her parents are, since that kinda ruins the mystery. The thing is; this isn't supposed to be a mystery. This story is meant for those who have read "Putting the Pieces back together" first and foremost. And those who have read it already know who Paula is. So yeah, that piece of information isn't supposed to be a big secret. That doesn't mean that there won't be some mystery involved. However, this story is meant to be a "coming-of-age"-story. At least it would be nice if you look at it from that perspective.
Chapter 5
DON'T TOUCH THAT!
''This...is quite unexpected'', Professor Allagan mumbled as he stared at the nameplate. "Hyperion?" Marshal Bowski, who was standing right next to the Professor, had crossed his arms in front of his chest and seemed to be less than thrilled about the recent development.
"Guess that means your quest for the Rebel Heart has come to an end before it even started." Bowski mused. "Sorry to hear that." That was only partially true, though. If this new discovery meant that the research-team would call it a day and go back home, then he would be more than happy to help them pack their stuff. But somehow Bowski had his doubts that things would turn out that easy.
They never did.
"I guess so..." Allagan whispered. Even though he was in charge of this research-trip, the Professor wasn't really a natural-born leader. He would probably need some time to come to a decision, time that Bowski was more than willing to give him.
The Marshal did kinda feel bad about it. He was actually wishing these people to fail their mission because he just wanted to get rid of them. Then again, he hadn't become a marshal in order to babysit eggheads. And the sooner Kerrigan would be off his back, the better.
Speaking of which...
"Hey! HEY! Watch it! Be careful with that!" the young woman barked while the other members of the research-staff were searching the bridge for anything that could be of use to them. Like something that would tell them what this place was all about. "Do you even know how to use that thing?" Paula asked when one student placed his finger on the keyboard of a station.
"Gosh, look at that." the male student whispered. "It's a keyboard. A real keyboard! Man, to think they used something like that back in the day."
"Uh huh, you sound as if they were one step away from chiseling messages into marble." Paula mumbled.
"Is this a digital computer?" someone else asked. "Gosh, just think about it! This thing used electricity in order to work, and not light."
"Yeah, well, here's a pro-tip if you ever find a battery..." Paula growled. "...don't lick it." And then she saw how another student was daring to touch a truly old-school monitor.
"Whoa, look at tha-"
"Don't touch anything!" Paula yelled and ran over to the other woman, only to slap her on the wrist. Kerrigan was busy telling people not to touch anything, which was somewhat hilarious given the fact that she liked to touch everything herself. "Seriously, people! This is an archaeological dig-site! Be more careful, goddammit!" As Paula was ranting off like some lunatic, Bowski looked over his shoulder and watched her with a hint of amusement on his face.
"Well, look who's acting like a professional all of the sudden." the Marshal whispered.
"I heard that!" Paula yelled at him from the other side of the bridge. "Also, Marshal, help me! These people have no respect for nothin'!"
"Rrrrrright." Bowski chuckled. "That doesn't remind you of anyone specifically. Or does it, Kerrigan?"
"Stop acting all high and mighty, Marshal! This is serious!"
"I know, that makes it all the sweeter." Bowski replied. "Also, these people came here to study the past. I'd say let them do their job. Also, could you try to calm down? You are making it harder for everyone to focus on their job."
"Calm down? CALM DOWN?!" Paula yelled. "This is an archaeological dig-site of immense historical importance! We can't just have some random people running around touching everything!"
"Random people?" Bowski asked. "You mean like a professor of history and his research-staff?"
"Tomatoes, potatoes!" Paula replied. "Anyway, can't you, I don't know, throw them off the bridge?"
"And why should I do that?" the Marshal wanted to know. The amusing thing was that they were both yelling at each other across the bridge, so everyone was able to listen to their little argument.
"Because...!" Paula started, only to fall silent.
"Yeah? Because?" Bowski shot back, yet when he received no answer, he just shook his head. "Perhaps you should get some fresh air." he suggested.
"I'm not leaving, there's..." the young woman tried to say, only to stop once more.
"There's what?" the Marshal asked once more but Paula just bit on her lip, which caused Bowski to sigh. "Fine, have it your way. But I won't have you here on the bridge shouting at everyone to not do their job."
"Meaning what?" Paula tested him. "You're gonna kick me out or drag me back to the surface?"
"Nope." Bowski replied and pointed at the huge Protoss that was with them. "I leave that to your friend. Sirella, would you be so kind?" And when Sirella heard that, she sighed and dropped her head in defeat.
"Story of my life. Yes, let's go Paula. This place is too eerie for my taste." the young Protoss said and turned around before walking towards the exit. For a moment Bowski thought that Paula was about to make a scene, but then the young woman just harrumphed and followed her friend off the bridge.
"Huh..." Bowski muttered when the two were finally gone. "...that was surprisingly easy." A small part of the Marshal's mind was telling him that this was bound to end in tragedy. Yet right now he had no nerve to deal with any of this. It would bite him at a later date. Bowski sighed and turned his attention back towards Allagan, who was still busy staring at the nameplate. The confusion and disappointment on the older man's face was clearly visible and Bowski actually felt a bit sad for him. So the least he could do was to show Allagan some sympathy.
"I guess that this revelation kinda ruined your day, huh?" the Marshal asked. Yeah, he was lousy when it came pep-talks.
"I don't understand..." Allagan whispered. "...the evidence we found clearly indicated that we were looking for the Rebel Heart." There was a hint of desperation in his voice.
"Hyperion..." the Marshal mused. "...has a nice ring to it. Can't say I've ever heard that name before, though."
"Neither do I." the Professor mumbled. "I don't understand this. We checked all the evidence several times over. This was supposed to be the Rebel Heart, not some forgotten ship of unknown origin." Okay, now Bowski actually felt bad for the man. He placed his hand on the Professor's shoulder and offered him a warm smile.
"Hey, it's still a battlecruiser, right? I'm sure that this thing holds a lot of secrets." the Marshal tried to cheer him up.
"Pah. It's a battlecruiser alright." Allagan replied. "Do you know how many of these vessels were built back in the day? Hundreds. Thousands if you count all sub-types. Every now and then they find a wreckage drifting in space or buried beneath tons of rubble. We didn't come all the way out here to uncover a battlecruiser. We came out here to find the Rebel Heart."
"So, what does that mean?" Bowski wanted to know. "Are you going to quit?" Allagan didn't answer that question for a very long time. And when he did...
"I don't know..." the Professor whispered. "...I just don't know." And then he turned around and looked at the other members of the research-staff who were all staring at them as if they were waiting for something to happen. Bowski, not to keen to break those people's hearts, leaned over to Allagan and whispered something into his ear.
"Maybe you should tell them to carry on for now. You know, until you made a decision." When the Professor heard that, he didn't seem to be very keen on doing something like that.
"I don't want to lie to my students." Allagan whispered back.
"Well, you don't want to tell them the truth right now either." Bowski shot back. "At least let them work on this thing right now. Go outside, take a walk, get some fresh air."
"I don't think that I want to do that right now." the older man mumbled, which caused the Marshal to sigh.
"Okay, then let's assume that what I just said wasn't a piece of advice, but a proper order. Get up there and take a breather. Don't worry, I will watch over your people down here."
"But-" Allagan tried to reason with Bowski, but the Marshal was in no mood to discuss this.
"No buts! Get topside. Now." If he wanted, Bowski could be one scary dude. His thin stature and face, combined with his hawk-like features, gave him something intimidating. And Professor Allagan was not the kind of person who wanted to find out wherever the Marshall was all talk and no action. And so, he dropped his shoulders in defeat and slumped off the bridge. It was actually a pretty pathetic sight. The Professor was in charge of this research-party, yet he had just been sent off the bridge like a little schoolboy. And when he was finally gone, the students and other researches seemed to be unsure on what to do next.
"Come on, people. This is what you came here to do." Bowski suddenly yelled. "Do your studying-old-stuff-thing."
"Archaeology." someone said. "It's called archaeology."
"Whatever. Get to it!" And with that, Bowski crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the nearby wall while looking at the nameplate right next to him.
"Hyperion, hmm?" he mused. "It does have a nice ring to it."
4 Minutes earlier...
"I'm not leaving, there's..." Paula tried to say, only to fall silent again.
"There's what?" the Marshal wanted to know once more, yet she decided to keep her mouth shut. The frustration was clearly visible on his face and he sighed. "Fine, have it your way. But I won't have you here on the bridge shouting at everyone to not do their job."
"Meaning what?" she demanded to know. "You're gonna kick me out or drag me back to the surface?"
"Nope." Bowski replied and pointed with his finger at Paula's friend. "I leave that to your friend. Sirella, would you be so kind?" And when Sirella heard that, she sighed and dropped her head in defeat.
"Story of my life. Yes, let's go Paula. This place is too eerie for my taste." the young Protoss said and turned around before walking towards the exit. For a moment Bowski thought that Paula was about to make a scene, but then the young woman just harrumphed and followed her friend off the bridge. And when they left that part of the ship behind, both Paula and Sirella walked down the wide corridor. For a while, they didn't say anything. Until...
"So, did you find what you were looking for?" Sirella asked.
"Nope." Paula replied. "Only a bunch of empty booze-bottles."
"I take it that those things are out of the question?"
"Are you seriously asking me that?" the young woman groaned. "Come on, that would be a total jerk move. Also, Mum would flail me alive if I would bring something like that back. Pacifist or not."
"Well, I guess we can go then." Sirella sighed in relief.
"Yep. We can go..." Paula agreed. Only to add a "...further down." When Sirella heard that, she stopped and dropped her shoulders.
"Aw, please no! No! Paula, I don't want to stay here any longer!"
"Suck it up, big girl!" her "friend" chuckled. "We still got plenty of decks to find something!" And with that, the argument was settled. Sirella followed her friend through yet another dark corridor. And after a while...
"Where are we going anyway?" the Protoss wanted to know.
"Deeper down the rabbit hole. What do you think?" Paula replied.
"What's a rabbit?"
"Nevermind." the young woman sighed. "I didn't find anything good on the bridge. So now we are going to look for something else."
"Like what?" Sirella asked.
"Ugh, I don't know! Something. I will probably know once I see it."
"We traveled more than twenty thousand lightyears, and you don't even know what you are looking for. I could have studied for my exams! I could have asked your father for advice! I could have-"
"Aw, quit your whining, Sirella. You know exactly what you were volunteered for this."
"I never volunteered for this!" the young Protoss protested. "I was commandeered!"
"Details, details." Paula replied. "Here, this way." She stopped in front of a heavy door and pressed the button right next to it. When nothing happened, she sighed and looked over her shoulder. "Care to give me a helping hand?"
"I carried heavy crates all day long." Sirella replied. "I got blisters on my hands. And now you want me to open that door?"
"Protoss can get blisters? Seriously? Why is this the first time that I heard about that? Also, your grandfather, my master and my uncle all have no blisters on their hands."
"Well, my hands are very delicate." Paula's friend declared. "I'm not a warrior or phase-smith."
"Too bad, we really could use a phase smith right about now." the young woman sighed and checked the button right next to the door.
"Well, you could have asked your uncle to join you!"
"Yeah, but then it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"
"Ugh..." Sirella sighed. "...once this is over, you owe me big time. Understood?"
"And that's the reason why I brought you along, Sirella. You are awesome when it comes to moral support!" Paula shot back and licked her finger, only to press it once more on the button. Suddenly the door sprung open and a metallic screech echoed through the dark corridors.
"Huh..." the young woman mused when she looked past that door. "...I was certain that there would be an elevator behind this door. Guess I should have paid more attention to all those stories they told me."
"I wish you would have listened to them when they told you to not do crazy stuff like this!" Sirella mused.
"They never told me anything like that."
"Ah, that explains a lot." the Protoss sighed and looked past the door as well. "Those are a lot of stairs. And it's pretty dark down there. Did I mention that I'm not overly fond of dark places?"
"Your eyes glow, you are your very own flashlight." Paula explained. "Just don't blink."
"Ever so helpful, Paula. Thanks."
"Yeah, well, cry me a river. Let's go down there." And with that, the young woman and her friend vanished through the door and descended deeper into the bowels of this long-forgotten relic of the past. On their way down, Paula pulled another crystal from her pocket and simply threw it up in the air. It started to glow but unlike the first one, this one stayed right over their heads, following them wherever they were going. When they walked past a door with a big three on it, Sirella couldn't hide her curiosity.
"So... how many decks has this thing anyway?" she wanted to know.
"Plenty." Paula replied.
"Ugh...that's really helpful."
"We want to go to deck five." the young woman then said. "What is there?"
"Just wait and see." Sirella's friend declared. It took them a while until they actually reached deck five. Not because there was so much room between the decks but because this place was a mess.
"You know..." Paula groaned when she pushed a huge piece of garbage out of the way. "...you could help me with this stuff!"
"I rather want to watch you doing some heavy lifting." Sirella replied. "It's a rare moment. I should take a picture of it and show it to your parents. I already have a title. "See Paula how you have never seen her before! Doing some manual labor!" How does that sound?"
"Lovely." Paula replied with sarcasm dripping from her voice. It almost looked as if someone had tried to barricade the staircase. Was this a leftover from the time when the ship had been under the command of the Raiders? Or was it due to a more recent event? "I get it, you are mad because I kinda left you hanging back there." the young woman then muttered. "And yes, it was not nice to drag you out here without telling anyone where we would go. But you know how important this is for me." And then Paula looked over her shoulder and stared at her friend with big, round eyes. And then there was a long and awkward moment of silence.
…
…
…
"Paula? Are you okay? Your eyes look kinda red and watery." Sirella wondered.
"I'm not blinking because I'm giving you puppy eyes." the young woman groaned.
"What are puppies?"
"Nevermind..." Paula sighed and started to blink again, only to curse when her dried out eyes soaked up some much-needed moisture.
"I know this is important to you. Trust me, I noticed how you talked about nothing else ever since you got this idea." the Protoss mused as she watched how her friend cleared the path for them. She had to give Paula some credit. Ever since they had come out here, her friend had done her best to tone down her powers. To everyone who didn't know Paula Kerrigan, she seemed to be nothing but a very weird woman.
Dan Bowski certainly thought so.
"But you should have told your family. Besides, I'm not sure that I'm the right choice for this. You should have asked your master to come with you. He could have posed as a human."
"Ha!" Paula laughed when she heard that. "Yeah, right. Tesson would have used that opportunity for yet another lecture. I swear, he feels some twisted kind of pleasure when he can tell me that I'm wrong about something."
"Sounds like paradise..." Sirella mumbled.
"What was that?"
"Nothin'!" And then the Protoss sighed as she watched how Paula tried to move a piece of equipment away that was clearly too heavy for a single human to move. So she walked up to her friend, placed her big hands on the crate, gritted her teeth (in a matter of speaking) and ignored the fact that her hands were covered with blisters. Even with their combined strength, they couldn't lift the piece of metal-trash but they managed to shove it to the side.
"What about your uncle?" Sirella mumbled when they squeezed themselves past the crate and continued their descent.
"Karax? Naaaa. He once told me that he has learned everything that Terran technology has to offer. Besides, he has been here before. I don't think that there's anything that's of any interest for him." Paula mused.
"I was talking about your other uncle," her friend mumbled, and Paula stopped for a moment.
"Uncle Joe?" she asked and then she shuddered as if a cold shiver was running down her spine. "Better not. Wherever Uncle Joe goes, death and destruction follows." And then she shrugged her shoulders and moved on. "Also, he can't keep secrets from my aunt. And whatever she hears, she has to report to my mother immediately. I think it's genetic. Actually, I'm pretty darn sure it's genetic."
"You could have asked one of your cousins."
"Which one? I got several hundred cousins." Again, not related by blood.
"I let you pick. I'm feeling generous."
"Ach...they are no fun, no fun at all! Besides, if I would bring one of them along, then I would have to bring them all along. And you know what that means. Also, I think Sarah hates me." Paula mumbled.
"I don't think she hates you." Sirella mused. "I just think she doesn't give a damn about you."
"So much better." Paula sighed. "Anyway, I did notice that you are trying to tell me that I should have picked anyone else but you for this gig. Before you pull any more suggestions from your butt-"
"I don't have a butt."
"...well, you can save your breath. You are the only one I can trust with this." When Sirella heard that, she shook her head.
"You know, just when I feel the urge to murder you and bury your corpse in the desert, you say something nice like that and I want to be your friend again." the Protoss explained.
"Aw, I love you too, big girl." Paula snickered. "Wait, you want to murder me?"
"Oh, look! Deck 5!" Sirella changed the subject and pointed her finger at the big, fat white five that was painted next to the door right in front of them. "Looks like we are here! Want to take point on this one?"
"Eh, sure..." the young woman sighed and decided to leave this topic for another day. Instead, Paula pressed the button right next to the door, and when the door sprung open again, she looked at her friend with an expression of utter disbelief on her face.
"Oh my gosh, Sirella! Did you see that? After all those years this thing still works! It's a miracle, I tell you! A mira-"
"It stopped being funny a long time ago, Paula." Sirella declared. "I know that it's you."
"Ack, should have brought the Marshal along. At least he would never believe how I actually pulled that off."
"Do you want me to get him?" Sirella suggested. "I just have to get upstairs and tell him you walked off on your own, I bet he will be here within seconds screaming your name like a curse."
"No, thanks." Paula shot back when she squeezed herself through the door. "I think I heard enough people yelling "KERRIGAN!" like it's a curse for years to come. Besides..." she said as she entered deck 5...
"...I don't want to see my own face for the next couple of, well, centuries." Jim groaned when he walked through the door and entered the crew-deck. The current crew-deck. Originally deck eight had housed the crew-quarters, but since Stetmann's little science-experiment involving the waste-purification-system and the freshwater-supplies, that deck had been sealed off. Even now no one dared to open it in order to check it out.
"Yeah, well, I guess that is something you have in common with Mengsk right now." Matt Horner chuckled as he walked right next to his commanding officer and friend. Jim looked over at him with an annoyed expression on his face, but then he couldn't help it and snickered.
"Boy, I really wish I could see his face right now. Maybe we are lucky, and this will give him a heart attack." the leader of the Raiders mused.
"That certainly would be a nice thing." Matt agreed. "Though I doubt that the old bastard will make it that easy for us."
"You're right." Jim sighed. As they walked through the corridor, they encountered almost no crew-member. On a normal military vessel, that would have been impossible. One shift was working, another shift sleeping, and the third shift preparing to relieve the first one. Standard military protocol. Well, the Hyperion wasn't standard, and she sure as hell wasn't military. Besides, right now most of the crew was actually sleeping. Or they were still drinking.
"Can't believe you let the others off the hook." Jim chuckled as they walked through the empty corridors. "And I think Swann thought that you were pulling his leg when you told him that he could drink as much as he wanted as long as he would stay away from the nuclear warheads."
"Well..." Matt replied and shrugged his shoulders. "...we've been under a lot of stress lately. And that victory...heh, it sure felt nice to hit that old bastard where it hurt." When Jim heard that, he chuckled again and shook his head. Not even 24 hours had passed since the Raiders had pulled off the impossible mission of humiliating the great Arcturus Mengsk in his own home. To call the strike against the head of the Dominion daring would have been exaggerated. It had been plain stupid. Perhaps that was the reason why it had worked. Because no sane man or woman would have imagined that this little rag-tag team of misfits would march right into the UNSS Studios on Korhal and broadcast the proof of Mengsk's most heinous crime throughout the entire sector.
"You know..." Jim mumbled after a while. "...maybe now the ghosts of Tarsonis can rest a bit easier, knowing that the sector finally knows who's responsible for their deaths."
"You really think that?" Matt wanted to know.
"Dunno. But it's a nice thought." the older man replied.
"Yes, I guess it is." his second-in-command agreed. As they continued to walk on, neither Jim nor Matt said anything for quite some time. Until...
"You know, they have already found a name for our stunt. News stations across the sector call it the "Media Blitz". Kinda catchy if you think about it." Matt said.
"Meh, I'm not sure if they even understand why we did it." Jim scoffed. "They probably think that we just did it because we wanted to cause chaos because that's what renegades do."
"Well, you know what they say. Media ain't neutral." his second-in-command mused. "I guess we just have to accept that and play their game in order to get what we want."
"I guess it's not nice to think that way..." Jim mumbled. "...but seeing the shocked expression on Vermillion's face was kinda rewarding. Even though for all the wrong reasons."
"It only shows how deep the wound is that Mengsk inflicted upon all of us." Matt replied. "Even now there is hardly anyone who doesn't know someone who died on Tarsonis and..." That's when the younger man suddenly realized how sensitive that topic was. He glanced to the side and noticed the sad look on Jim's face.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't sweat it." Jim mumbled. "We got bigger things to worry about than what happened in the past." But even then, both men knew that this statement was a lie. As they came past an open maintenance hatch with cables hanging out from it, Matt couldn't hide his true colors.
"Goddammit." he growled. "When I told the crew to relax, I didn't mean to "drop everything they were doing and get drunk big time!" This is unacceptable!"
"Come on, the Hyperion has survived worse. A day more or less with her entrails blocking our way won't change much."
"Jim, that thing is a deathtrap! It's a disaster in the making! It's-"
"Wanna' get Swann and have him fix it?" Jim cut his friend short. For a second Matt seemed to seriously consider this idea, but then he just dropped his shoulders in defeat.
"Forget it, it has to wait. Swann's probably even drunker than either one of us." the younger man mumbled.
"Knowing him he's probably working on the engines or the reactor right now." Jim chuckled and then he tried to imitate Chief Engineer Rory Swann. "Remember, folks! If you want to check on fuel-cells, make sure to be full of fuel yourself!"
"That was a horrible impression." Matt declared.
"Ah, everyone's a critic these days." Jim growled
"Just because you make it look so easy." his friend and comrade replied.
"If only that were true..."
And then silence reigned supreme again. Though this time it wasn't the same kind of silence they had enjoyed before. Not even 24 hours ago, the Raiders had scored a major victory against Arcturus Mengsk by turning his strongest weapon against him. No, not guns. No weapons, ships or soldiers. There was something that was far more powerful, something that could end or start a war without anyone firing even one bullet.
The public opinion...
Revealing to the Koprulu Sector that the "benevolent Emperor" had sacrificed billions in order to achieve his goal was simply too big, too heinous for people to ignore it. Even now the media was full of reports of riots all over the Dominion. Given the fact that the Zerg were on the move again, this was probably the worst possible timing.
Jim had thought about this mission for a very long time before he had agreed to it. Not because he had any love for Mengsk. But because weakening the Terran superpower in this sector while the Swarm was on the warpath was not risky, it was plain stupid. In the end, however, Jim had decided to do this. He could have told people about the strategic importance of weakening the Dominion. On how this was part of a bigger agenda, a plan that would result in what Matt liked to call "a better future". As far as Matt was concerned, this was exactly what it was about. What it should be about. As for Jim?
Well...
...he had done it for her.
Almost everyone had lost someone dear on Tarsonis that fateful day. Like said, it was almost impossible to find someone who hadn't lost a friend or family when the planet had been devoured by the Zerg, or at least they knew someone who had been on that world back then. Tarsonis had been the capital of the old Confederacy, the center of power and a cultural hotspot. No matter how despicable the Confederacy had been, the loss of Tarsonis had caused pain and misery all over the Koprulu Sector.
For many it was still an open wound that wouldn't heal.
And Jim was among those people.
Unfortunately, there was no time for him to grief. Not that it would change anything anyway. In a way, the others had it easier. Yes, it sounded wrong on so many levels. But think about it. Those who had lost loved ones the day the Swarm had ravaged Tarsonis at least could tell themselves that their friends, relatives or lovers were now in a better place.
But Jim?
He knew that his loved one was still very much alive.
In the worst way possible...
"So..." Matt muttered.
"So..." Jim agreed. They both knew what this was about, and both men had decided to beat around the bush for long enough.
"Have you made up your mind?" Matt asked as they walked around a corner and down yet another corridor. "Made a decision?"
"I... don't know yet." the commander admitted.
"I hate to be the spoil-sport on this one, Jim, but we need an answer. We need orders. Will you accept Valerian Mengsk's offer?"
Valerian Mengsk. Just when Jim had thought that he had met all sorts of annoying people, he had made the acquaintance of none other than Arcturus Mengsk's only spawn. He still felt like a sucker for not realizing that he and the rest of the Raiders had been played for months by Mengsk Junior. To most members of the crew, the name "Mengsk" was an anathema. The very idea that they could possibly work for the son of the man that had taken everything from them was...
...well, let's just say that Jim hadn't told many about Valerian Mengsk's offer.
Only members of the senior-staff knew about this. Oh, and Tychus. But only because he had been there with Jim when they had stormed the Bucephalus.
That had been several weeks ago. The fact that Jim hadn't put a bullet through Valerian's head right there and then had caused some controversy among the crew after they had found out about this whole gig. Even now they didn't know who had spilled his beans, but it didn't matter. So far Matt had managed to keep any form of dissent down. But would the Raiders actually accept working for Mengsk Junior? Or would they turn their back on Jim instead?
There was no way to tell.
"I need some more time, Matt. I'm sorry, but I can't make that decision right now." Jim muttered.
"I will try to keep the others off your back." his second-in-command replied. "Just make sure to let me know first before you announce it to the crew. I don't want to be caught unaware."
"I'll try to keep it in mind." Jim chuckled. Both men stopped when they reached Matt's quarter. "Well, here we are." the commander mused. "Teh, reminds me of all those times when I took a girl on a date and brought her back to the front door."
"Please don't tell me you want to give me a good night-kiss." Matt groaned. "I swore to fight at your side, nothing more."
"Heh, don't sweat it, Matt." Jim replied. "You're not my type anyway." And then the older man took a deep breath and looked his friend straight into the eyes.
"Thanks, Matt."
"Ah, don't sweat it. You deserved some fun. Especially after what we did today and-" But then Matt was interrupted by Jim.
"No, I'm not talking about today." Matt's superior explained. "I mean in general. For pulling my head out of the gutter so many times I can't even remember."
"Yeah, well, that's my job." Matt mused and tried to make himself less important than he actually was.
"You're doing a lot more than that, Matt." Jim told him. "Without you, the Raiders would have fallen apart a long time ago. I know that I wasn't always the commander you all want me to be. Heck, most of these days I don't even know why anyone still follows me."
"It's because-" Matt tried to tell, but then he was cut short by Jim once more.
"No, Matt. Not today. I'm just spent." Jim announced. "And so are you. Don't take it the wrong way, but you look like shit."
"Well..." Matt chuckled when he heard that. "...what can I say? You are my role-model, and I'm trying to be just like you. In every regard."
"God heavens, now that's a scary thought." the commander groaned. That's when Matt suddenly pulled something from his pocket. "What's that?" Jim wanted to know and that's when a smile appeared on Matt's face. He handed the small object over to Jim and only then the older man realized that it was a photo.
"Here. So you have something to remember. Because today we actually made the impossible happen," Matt declared, and Jim looked at the photo. It showed both him and his second-in-command, sitting inside the mess-hall of the Hyperion while laughing into the camera. Jim remembered that moment, it hadn't even happened a few hours ago.
"Gosh, I look so old on this photo." Jim chuckled and was about to hand it back to Matt. "You keep it. I got a bad streak when it comes to photos and-" But this time it was Matt who cut him short when he pulled another photo from his pocket.
"I made two copies. This one will get a special place above my chimney once this whole madness is over." Matt explained.
"Ever the optimist." Jim groaned and looked at the photo until a warm smile appeared on his face. He then placed his hand on Matt's shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. "Thanks, man. Best present in a long time."
"Glad you feel that way. Now, Commander, go to sleep and sober up. That's an order," the younger man said and Jim laughed out loud.
"Ha! Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir!" And then Jim saluted, turned around and wobbled away and towards his own quarters. Both men smiled, yet when Jim vanished around the next corner, they both stopped doing that. Matt because he was worried...
...and Jim because he had already made up his mind wherever he would accept Valerian Mengsk's offer or not.
And that was a decision Matt wouldn't like one bit.
The executive officer of the Raiders then turned away as well and opened the door to his own quarters. And once he was inside...
...Paula looked around and frowned.
"I don't believe it." she whispered mostly to herself. Behind her, Sirella peeked into the room but didn't see anything spectacular. On the contrary, these quarters looked surprisingly clean and normal. Almost boring.
"So, there is a clean spot on this ship after all!" the young Protoss mused.
"Trust me, if you knew the guy who used these quarters, you wouldn't be surprised." Paula mumbled. Sirella, who had no idea who Paula was talking about, made a step backward and looked at the name next to the door.
"Captain Horner. Executive Officer." she read out loud and then her eyes widened in surprise. "Wait...THE Matt Horner? The one your fath-"
"Yes, the one and only." Paula cut her friend short. A strange sadness suddenly filled her heart but then she shook her head and focused her mind on the task at hand. She walked into the room and looked around. There had to be something of value here...
"But why this place? Shouldn't we, I don't know, check someone else's quarter first?" Sirella wanted to know.
"There's nothing there. Trust me, I know." Paula explained. "Nothing except empty booze-bottles. And if I bring one of those back home, Mum will flail me alive."
"Then what are we looking for?"
"I don't know. Something. Anything. Matt was his best friend. Maybe there's something in here..." Paula mumbled and walked over to the nearby wardrobe. She opened it, but all she saw was a heap of dirt that looked like clothes that had rotted away a long time ago.
"Bummer. A pair of new boots would have been nice." Paula mumbled and turned her attention towards the spartan rest of the quarters. There was not much that could tell you who had lived in these quarters for several years. To anyone who hadn't known Matt Horner, this place probably looked like it belonged to the most boring person in all of existence. However, Paula knew better. Sirella seemed to be bored by all of this and walked into the nearby bathroom. And then...
"Hey, Paula, I think I found something!"
"If it's floating in the toilet, then I don't want it!" Paula replied. "And don't try to touch it. Just flush it down."
"What is this?" Sirella asked when she returned from the bathroom and held something thin and long up. Paula squinted her eyes and then she snickered.
"It's a toothbrush. You know, to brush your teeth? Wait, you don't have any teeth, of course you don't know what this thing is." A one-thousand-year old toothbrush. Sometimes old things had historical value.
And sometimes they were just old.
"Curses." Paula whispered. "There has to be something here. Anything!" Paula looked around and studied the room as if she was considering her options. Sirella, who took a more practical approach, walked over to a small metallic night table next to what once had been a bed and opened the top drawer.
"Uh. Who are they? And who is the old fart that looks like your fath-"
"What did you find?!" Paula gasped and hurried over to her friend. She pushed Sirella to the side and when she looked at the object lying inside the drawer, a big grin appeared on her face. "Oh yes! YES! JACKPOT!" she shouted. It was a photo. Old, ancient and pretty bleached. Yet you could still make out the two men sitting at a bar and smiling at the camera while enjoying a drink. Paula reached out with her hand and couldn't hide her excitement.
"Oh yes! This will make one hell of a pre-" The moment the tip of her finger touched the photo, it started to crack and fall apart. Paula's eyes widened in shock and she tried to save what couldn't be saved.
"No! NONONONONO!" she shouted and tried to keep the thin piece of photo-paper from falling apart, but to no avail. All she could do was to watch in dread how the photo with the two smiling men on it simply turned into dust. Literally.
"Paula?" Sirella mumbled after some time. "Are you okay?"
"I got careless. Stupid me." Paula whispered. "This would have been the perfect gift."
"Can't you, I don't know, put the pieces back together?" the young Protoss suggested. However, Paula just shook her head.
"It wouldn't be the same." she simply explained. And then Paula dropped her shoulders in defeat and looked around once more. That photo probably had been the only personal piece and right now she wasn't in the mood to tear the walls open. Besides, Matt Horner hadn't been the kind of person to keep loads of secrets. "Come on, let's go back before the Marshal figures out that we disobeyed him again."
"We?" Sirella protested? "If I remember correctly, then it was you who keep disobeying him."
"Potatoes, tomatoes." Paula replied. "I need some fresh air." And then she turned around and slumped out of the room. However, she stopped in front of the door and placed her hand on the small switch right next to it. It was the light-switch.
"Well, at least this will be a nice gift for my uncle." the young woman mused and simply ripped the light-switch off the wall before putting it in her pocket. When she stepped out of the quarters, she looked at the nameplate right next to it and sighed. "And this might be of some use too." she declared and peeled Matt Horner's nameplate off the wall. And then...
"Let's go." Paula mumbled and with that, the two were on their way back topside. When they entered the staircase again, what remained behind was silence and darkness.
Minutes passed with nothing happening.
Until...
"...zheeeeeee...?"
A faint blue light suddenly appeared at the very end of the corridor that led to the crew quarters. But when it became brighter, there was no one around. The light moved through the corridor until it reached the quarters Paula and Sirella had just checked. It entered the room and seemed to search for something. It stopped right in front of the drawer and seemed to stay there for a long time until it descended and started to put the flocks of dust back together until the photo had been restored to its fragile old self. And then, as if pushed by a ghost's hand, the drawer was closed.
"Zheeeeeee!" The light produced a high-pitched sound. It was weird since you could almost imagine that it sounded...proud? As the glowing orb moved towards the door, it noticed something else, the open wardrobe. It checked it out and when it found the pieces of rotten clothes, the whole room started to glow when the light released more of its energy. And when it was done...
...there was a pristine uniform hanging inside the wardrobe.
"Zheeeeeee..." the light hummed and moved towards the exit when it suddenly stopped and seemed to turn its attention towards something else.
...it was the light-switch.
Or, to be more precise, the light-switch Paula had ripped out of the wall.
"ZHEEEEEEEEE!" the light screeched, and its cold, blue color turned red.