Weeks passed slowly for Angela. She spent her time in a constant state of lonliness and exhaustion, working for sixteen hours a day, organizing her room for one, and one for personal hygene. Work consisted of anything from cleaning barracks to destroying small colonies of Zerg, something Angela never expected. Her unit had already lost thirty cadets in these skirmishes, really pressing upon the survivors how necessary their training exercises were.

On the bright side, our heroine had become quite stealthy. Having to dodge an onslaught of male hormones increased her skill to almost that of a ghost. She learned to anticipate when the guys tried to spy on her or hit on her. Several cadets sported an ugly bruise from a punch or kick, and others would murmur amongst themselves about "going too far" or "that time of the month" or "lesbian" as the victim passed.

Mengsk knew this, and in spite of himself, began to be proud of Cadet Parker. She was turning into exactly what the Emperor wanted her to be: a bitter soldier, skilled in warmongering. Already he wanted her to lead the final expedition that would determine which soldiers passed basic training. It wasn't too hard to pass. All you had to do was survive.

While the time didn't go quickly, Angela was surprised to find that it was the last week of basic, starting tomorrow. Today was Sunday, and Emperor Mengsk himself would be addressing all of the units and announcing which cadet "had shown the most leadership proficiency and deadly skill" to lead their particular unit. Angela didn't have to guess who would lead hers.

As she finished putting on her uniform, Cadet Parker could hear the guys talking from their bunks. They boasted their destructive ability with particular glory, pronouncing fear upon their enemies. For a while they targeted the Zerg (making several inappropriate comments about Kerrigan), but then a cadet started to brag about fighting Protoss.

"Yeah, you know them reptiles don't stand a chance against me."

"Chuck, get a life. Those things are like twice as tall and strong as you."

"So what?"

"Yeah man, and they can read your mind. They know your strategy the second you think it."

"Whatever, whatever. I'll just stop thinking and concentrate on impulses. I can frag them Toss easy."

"Hey, must be easy to stop thinking when ya never started."

"Shut up."

Angela didn't pay much attention. It was typical stupid male talk, and was only white noise to her, especially after ten weeks of the nonsense. She used the mirror to adjust her rank. Cadet basic rank was not sewn on the uniform. It was just simpler to make metal pins that pierced lapels so that if the cadet died (or got promoted quickly, but that wasn't likely to happen) the rank could be reused. It was a pain to line up the rank according to protocol, and every cadet pricked themselves to bleeding at least once.

Suddenly it was quiet. The guys weren't talking loudly anymore. Angela pricked up her ears; something had to be wrong.

"Oh yeah baby..."

"...Got that when she was in the shower..."

She immediately rushed from her room, finding a cluster of the boys surrounding one named Cadet Oliver, the daredevil of Charlie Company. He tried to hide something from Angela behind his back as she approached, but there was no point in it. She punched him straight in the stomach then snatched. It was a photograph of her in the shower.

"I can't believe you!" Angela shouted while she began to kick Oliver repeatedly in the stomach. "Stupid idiot! Don't you ever do that again or I'll kill you!"

With one final kick aimed at the balls, Angela tore up the picture and threw it in the nearby waste can. The boys watched in dismay and disappointment.

Another cadet snorted, while Angela went angrily back to her room. "Lesbi-"

A fist to the face and he was down, cursing and cradling his broken nose.

Later-

If the boys had been angry at Angela for what she did that morning, they were totally furious over Mengsk's decision to put her in charge of survival training. The return to the barracks was completely silent; the angry boys were too far upset to express until they reached the privacy of their rooms, filling the night with curses and proclamations. Angela, laying quietly in her bunk, heard every one of their biting words.

"That's girl's lucky to even be here." one complained. "Now she's set up over us."

"Yeah, she's such a weak link."

"We should get rid of her on the mission."

"Hey now, I ain't about to shoot or feed any girl to the Zerg. It just ain't decent."

"That's not what I mean. I mean just disregard everything she says and put somebody else in charge. Jenks, you've got my vote!"

"Sure I'll do it. Ain't no fragile female tellin' me what to do."

"Hey, keep quiet, she'll hear!"

"Ah man, you're scared of her?"

"What's it matter if she hears? Nothin' she can do about it."

Private Parker smiled slightly. If there was nothing she could do about it, Mengsk never would have put her in charge. All of these guys were no worse than Kyle. Even in a large group they could be intimidated, and they had their weaknesses. Turning over in her blanket, Angela yawned and tried to filter out the boys' talk. Not worried that her bed would be too wrinkly to pass inspection tomorrow, she just slept the sleep of one who needs it.

The next day-

Mengsk sat comfortably in his soft office armchair. His office was a simple workstation, filled with a practical desk to match his chair, that being topped with a flatscreen computer for whatever communication he needed with his officers. A large window, presently with its curtains closed, let out to his tiny balcony from which Mengsk could see the city's main business cluster. His entire right wall was a monitor, now carefully tuned to the exact color of his plain green walls. Everything was fairly modest, for an emperor, dispelling the constant rumor that Mengsk constantly ruled like a king from a vastly overindulgent throne. In fact, the only "artsy fartsy" thing about his workspace was the woolen arm-and-whip banner behind the desk, hanging on the wall.

Through this room the Terran Dominion was run, and Arcturus spent the majority of his day there. He leaned back, casually reading a report on the current status of New Oldham transportation while chewing on a stem of his reading glasses (he never used them to read). A knock thudded off Mengsk's door.

"Come in." the Emperor said, knowing that whoever could make it this far past the bodyguards had to be friendly. Bill came in as Mengsk put away his papers and glasses into a drawer.

"Well, Bill, I didn't think you would actually come this time." Arcturus smiled and gestured to a seat. "I've been sending invitations for the past five years, but this is a first. What made you change your mind?"

"Don't get me wrong, I've been wanting to come and see for a while now." Bill answered. "It's just that with all the production of Brood War, other games, and now Starcraft Two, there's been no time. Finally Blizzard tells me, 'Go out and do some research', so I'm actually out here with some folk filming Protoss activity. Had to sneak out, but they know what they're doing."

Mengsk grinned. "If you trust people, they will get the job done."

"So, when do the trials start?"

"In about ten minutes. All of the companies Alpha through Foxtrot now going through basic just simply have to survive on the Zerg-occupied asteroid Tyruis III. They will be separated as far as they can, and it's up to them entirely what they will do about the situation."

"How many of them are program cadets?"

"I'm not certain of the specific number at the moment. There is simply too many to remember. But we tend to average around fifty per company. Come, let's get something from the kitchen before this starts."