She didn't feel anything. In a blinking's time, Angela found that she was no longer home. Everything had melted away, and now the girl stood stunned on a metal platform, in a room of barren walls and unforgiving support beams. Straight ahead was a large trapezoid door, bolted shut with steel bars. Angela didn't have long to peruse her surroudings, however; almost immediately the bars slid into the wall, allowing entrance for two soldiers.
"You're coming with us." one said.
With no more than that, they roughly pulled Angela off the platform and took her down several halls. They went quickly past doorways and a few others who minded their own business. The people didn't seem to regard the girl and her guards at all, but just walked around them or busily operated some of the consoles that dotted every so often on the walls.
After what seemed like forever, a final door stood ahead of them. One soldier reached out and pushed a button on a side panel; the doors opened with a hiss of air. Angela was pulled into the room and pushed before a large wooden desk. And behind that desk sat a middle-aged man, bearded and uniformed.
"Arcturus Mengsk..." Angela murmured.
"Leave us, please."
With that command, both guards left the room. Mengsk waved his hand.
"Come and sit, Miss Parker." he said.
Now Angela has always been a fairly paranoid person, even to the point where she imagines how to handle unlikely situations, like being captured by terrorists or shanghied, and even unrealistic situations, like being abducted by aliens or getting sucked into computer games. Retreating to her memorized plans, Angela calmly sat on one of the chairs provided in front of the desk. She placed her hands on her knees and sat straight up, ready to listen to her environment and continue from there.
"I suppose you're wondering what all of this is about." Mengsk began. "you've got the package I sent you, I see, and that it fits you well. How do you like the uniform?"
"It's fine, but I'm a soldier without an army."
Mengsk chuckled. "Very good, but I'll have to disagree. You have an army in the Dominion Armada. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me ask you this, what delivery service sent my present to you?"
"It was the new one, DHL."
"Yes it was. Do you know what DHL stands for?"
"No, they never said."
"Then I'll tell you. DHL stands for Dominion Hiring League. We created the delivery service to gain funding for this war against the Zerg and, as the name implies, to discover and retrieve people that can readily serve in the Dominion Armada, only if they are willing of course. We don't have the manpower to defeat the Zerg at this time, so we reach out to find the men we need. I can't go into details, but I can tell you that we constantly observe replays at Some people stand out more than others, and I was fairly impressed with your statistics."
"So I'm good enough to fight for the Dominion?"
"More than just fight. You have the strength to command, to impress the victorious ideals the Dominion represents upon the lesser ranking soldiers. Apparently you didn't recogise the rank on your insignia, Captain Parker."
Angela gave a quick look at the patches on the sides of her sleeves. Three stripes, interrupted by the Dominion arm-and-whip logo, were sewn securely on her BDUs. Unconsciously she touched them, noting their tough fibers. A thought, unbidden, arose in her mind.
"But what about the guys?" she asked. "Jim's great, and so's Eric. And I know that Devin is better than all of us. Don't know about Kyle, but if the guys tolerate him, he can't be all that bad at the game."
"I think you know the answer to that."
Angela pondered for a moment. "Oh wait...Jim and Eric play as Zerg. Devin, and I think Kyle, play Protoss. I'm the only Terran player in the group."
"Exactly. And because you spent so much time around different players, you can anticipate possible attacks by those species, though there isn't much need to deal with the Protoss right now. In fact, they'll probably prove increasingly useful in the future."
"But...but I don't have any military training." Angela protested. "How do you know I can lead anyone? It seems like a lot of trouble and waste if I turn out to be a failure."
"You will not be a failure, I can guarantee. As for the training, that will be provided to you at no cost. It will be a difficult time for you, but I don't doubt that you will rise up from basic training a much more efficient and competent leader, and you're quite capable even now. And in time I'm certain the men will respect you. In your case, I expected that the literary appeal alone would convince you to stay."
She sighed. "I have to admit: I'm extremely tempted by all this. I'd love to stay and fight, but I'm not totally convinced of your motives here. I played Starcraft over and over, and I know all about your selfish manuvers that resulted in everybody getting in trouble. Plain and simple, you're a powermongerer. What's supposed to convince me that you aren't going to pull something like that again?"
It was Mengsk's turn to sigh. "In every case, my history comes into consideration. I'm not proud of what I've done, and I hope you believe me when I say I've learned my lessons well. Abandoning people and working for the Zerg will no longer be an option under my watch. Even then, I don't expect you to trust me right off the bat. I simply ask that you look at humanity. Here in the Koprulu Sector we are in constant danger of annihilation. The more unity among us, the better our chances are for survival. We need you, Miss Parker. We need you to stay and strengthen the Dominion, so that humanity can overcome the Zerg forever."
This sent Angela into silent contemplation for a moment.
"One last question." Angela slowly asked. "what if...what if I die out here? Who's going to explain things to my friends back home?"
"That's the beauty of it." Mengsk said, smiling. "You won't die. You see, Dominion scientists have engineered your dog tags to be a connection between your world and this. They hold you in the Koprulu Sector for as long as you wear them. If you should be in a circumstance which will end in death, all you have to do is take off the tags, and you'll be instantly transported back to your home, at exactly the moment you first put them on."
"Oh, I get it. So then I just put them back on to get back to the K-Sector?"
"No, I'm afraid that they only work once. Once you take them off, they're done for good. So you must be careful to only take them off when you know absolutely that you're going to die. Telling the difference between close calls and the real thing isn't going to be easy, but I know that you will be able to handle the responsibility." Mengsk stood up. "Now, I probably should give you some time to think about it. I'll have Harrison and Garrett take you to-"
"No need. I'm in. Ha, what would the guys say if I backed off now? I'm in it to win it."
"Ah, that reminds me..." Mengsk sat back down and reached into his desk. "You'll have to sign this."
He placed before her a contract, indicating where she should sign and initial.
"'I will never tell anyone at home about Operation DHL, nor any matters concerning the Koprulu Sector and happenings therein'. What's this?" Angela asked. "I can get into legal trouble about this? Are you working with the government on this?"
"No, the government knows nothing, I can assure you. Not that I can go into details concerning this, but the legal trouble comes from this side of reality. Don't worry, the context below does allow for 'fanfictions' about what happens. You can write anything you want, as long as the people were you are from think it's fanfiction, and those here don't know you're writing about them. If you have any questions about that when you return home, I can arrange for a representative to meet you."
Angela stared at the contract. Reading it carefully, Angela found that it was subject to Dominion definitions, which could change per circumstance. However, the legal requirements were fairly loose, and if she told the boys that it was all fake, she could tell them.
"Are you certain you don't need to think about this?"
The girl nodded. "I'll sign."
---
"Alright, Jim." Eric began as he and James drove down the street to pick up Devin and Kyle. "Remind me again. Where are we going, once we get the other guys?"
"To the DHL building downtown." James replied. "That's the company that delivered the package to Angie, so the answers have to be there."
He pulled over in front of the Terry's house, where the worried others were waiting in boredom. Quickly Devin and Kyle got into the car, ready for action.
"Okay," Devin said. "Let's review the facts before we get there. Kyle gets the weird call about a package with a Terran Dominion uniform in it, then Jim takes the phone, and nobody's on. So they go check it out."
"So we're there," James continued. "And there's no signs of struggle. Either Angie was kidnapped by somebody she knew well enough not to suspect or be afraid of, or she ran away. Her laptop was still there on the table, and it was still on, so that eliminates the latter option. Her writing is her life, and there's no way she'll go anywhere willingly without it. Kyle calls the cops then."
Devin picked back up the story from there. "The police talk to us, and from them we learn that her next door neighbor was selling her house, so she and a real estate agent were taking pictures of it. One picture catches the delivery dude."
Erin piped up. "Hey, you get a copy of the picture? I had to go home before the police were interviewing everybody. Didn't see it."
Kyle grinned. "I got a hold of it and copied it. Here ya go."
He handed his friend a small picture that portrayed the bearded man casually ringing the doorbell of Angela's house. The deliverer didn't seem worried or that he had something evil in mind. The man just delivered packages, and looked strangely similar to a character in a science fiction game.
"Hey, that dude looks like Mengsk!" Eric noticed.
"I know." Kyle responded. "Anyway, didn't the cops say that the neighbor saw the guy come at 4:15? That would've been like five minutes before the call."
"Yeah," Devin said. "But she didn't see anybody else come near the house. That means the key is that package."
James agreed. "Uh huh. But when me and Kyle got there, the box didn't have anything but tissue paper in it. No return address or nothing. That's why we have to go to DHL. They have to know something about the thing."
Eric looked again at the picture. "You know, I don't really see any older people workin' for DHL. Mostly just teens that need the jobs. This dude is middle aged. Maybe that's nothing to care about, but it just doesn't seem right."
---
Mengsk was right. Basic training was the hardest thing that Angela ever had to do. Every day was filled with drilling and obstacle courses, instructors yelling at her and rude guys trying to hit on her, short mealtimes and cold nights in cement barracks. Even in the hottest of days, those darn barracks felt frozen at nights.
The barracks were divided into small rooms that fit two people and their various gear. Two beds were against opposite walls, as well as two sets of drawers and two small areas meant for hanging up uniforms. Angela was the only female there at that time, so that meant she had no roommate nor one to talk to at all, unless she dared speak with the "perv idiots" that she trained with. In the room, that was an advantage; the space was cramped already, and Angela wasn't sure she wanted to share it.
Every morning started at five fifteen with PT in the cold and darkness. A field was provided for the exercises, which consisted of quick stretches, then on to pushups, situps, and various other anaerobic activities. Next was the daily mile run, which actually varied in length according to the good mood of the PT officer, Sgt. Bailey. Let's just say that oftentimes the run stretched beyond even two miles.
After all that, there was barely enough time to catch a quick shower before changing for breakfast. And there was no time for Angela, who had to avoid getting spied on by the guys. Fortunately there was deodorant aplenty, and if she stayed up late, she could manage a weekly shower.
All of the cadets in training had to go with their companies to meals. Angela's group, Charlie company, was lead by the ever irritable Sergeant Ricker, who made certain that ever cadet under him was line and punctual. He was an uncomparable brown-noser that nobody liked, but tolerable.
Once breakfast was over, it was drill until lunch, then battle scenario and weapons training. When cadet Parker first arrived, she assumed that the planet was Korhal, but the varying features convinced her otherwise. Korhal is a desert world, while this place had its share of forests, grasslands, mountains, and a few deserts of its own. That meant that the cadets could practice fighting the Zerg on any terrain, and it was torture. Heavy armor and difficult to handle weapons compounded on the uniqueness of a particular training ground wore the cadets down steadily, at least until they began to build up an endurance.
After that was dinner, followed by a free hour that the cadets needed to prepare their rooms for inspection. The regulations were truly annoying. Beds had to be made a specific way, hung up clothes had to be equidistant from each other, footwear had to be arranged on the floor, and even the drawers had to be organized properly. On top of all that, the cadets were made to wear their uniforms, and that added a whole new set of rules to follow. Inspection was done by several older soldiers, who were quick to insult those who failed to meet the regulations completely. If something was only the slightest bit off, say if a boot was placed at the head of the bed instead of the foot, those inspectors had every right to turn over beds, throw clothing everywhere, generally making a mess of things. And that poor cadet had to clean everything up by the next day's inspection. Far too often Angela was that cadet.
After inspection was the night course, that reviewed the principles of stealth and nightvision with the cadets, as well as travelling as a large contingent of soldiers. Nightmarches were common, and lasted until minutes before the lights-out at eleven p.m., and sometimes later. Even though Angela spent her days completely busy and had few hours of sleep, it was hard for her to drift off. Homesickness was common, and she'd seen it overcome too many others to succumb herself, but nevertheless she would cry at night, silently. She missed the sound of any familiar voice, and even hearing that stupid Kyle would cheer her up immensely.
James, however, possessed most of her thoughts. In the Dominion Armada, the trainees were required to serve ten weeks of basic training, and Angela would count the days with James in mind. He was her strength, as always, and Angela didn't think he would approve of her if she just gave up. He expected his girl to be tough, so tough she would be.
However that didn't stop her from every night counting, "Only nine more weeks...only eight more weeks....only seven..."