Captain Felix Graff

Above Korhal, Tarsonis

1502 Hours Local

The enemy planes had now started to engage us, but we didn't know the exact make of those enemies. As such, we couldn't fight against them particularly well. Gelb 1 and I broke off from each other and braced ourselves for an attack. A second later, the high-pitched scream of a missile warning screamed through my headset. I broke hard to the left just in time to see the blue-white contrail of a Protoss Antimatter missile flash past my cockpit no less then 20 feet away.

"AWACS!" I screamed into the headset mike. "The enemy bogey's taken a shot at me! Requesting permission to engage!"

"Wait one while we confirm, over." The AWACS voice came back, calmly.

"Brick! Tag them!" Gelb 1 ordered. "We'll get a lock while we're waiting for those bastards!"

I did as I was told, and got a lock of four of them with my XLAAs, and the remaining two were locked on by Gelb 1's QAAMs. I kept my finger on the missile launch button, but I didn't press it down until I had confirmation for the AWACS.

"Gelb Squadron, your request for weapons release is denied. Repeat: Denied. That missile may have been fired by one of the Wizard Squadron YF-23s, can you confirm? Over."

Another missile flashed passed. Screw this, I thought angrily and launched four of my XLAAS on two enemy fighters. The enemy fighters, aware that they were being attacked now, started to break off and try to evade my missiles, but the angle was perfect. Both of the first missiles hit and took down the craft's shields while one of the second missiles smashed open the cockpit of one of the enemy craft causing it to erupt in a fireball as the energy the craft used for power went unstable and tore the craft apart. The other missile, arrowing for a lead pursuit demolished a port-side wing and the enemy craft began to spin uncontrollably towards the ground.

"YOU SPLASHED AN ENEMY WITHOUT PREMISSION TO ENGAGE!?" The AWACS roared. "WHAT ARE YOU THINKING GELB 2!?"

"I'll get back to you," I said calmly as I fired another set of missiles at two of the remaining four enemy planes. Locking on, I mashed down the missile launch button, and the two sidewinders blasted away, seeking their targets. The enemy craft started to do a dive, trading altitude for airspeed afterburners going full blast, normally not a good idea when being perused by a heat-seeker, but I suppose this guy thought he could outrun my missiles.

He didn't, and the two missiles slammed into his craft one shorting out the shields, the other doing heavy damage to the engines causing him to pull up, trailing smoke. He tried to turn and engage me, but his manoeuvrability was restricted and he could only manage broad, slow, almost leisurely turns in either direction. He must have decided to break off the fight so he wouldn't end up like his two buddies that I had shot down.

Wizard Squadron's YF-23s closed and engaged the remaining fighters. With their stealth capabilities, they were easily more then a match for our opponents and each one died in blue explosions as they exploded. After that, the rest of the mission was complete anticlimax. The recon mission went off without any more hitches, although when we landed back in base, we were immideantly called into the Supreme Commander's Office.

Supreme Commander Boris Romanov

Office of the Commander

Base Alpha, Shakuras

2100 Hours Local

Leaning back in my chair, I gazed levelly at the four pilots standing stiff at attention. One was the number 2 in Gelb Squadron; the other three were from Wizard Squadron, including the flight lead Joshua Bristow.

"So" I said my voice low and dangerous. "Are you four going to tell me what that was all about up there, or just stare at my office walls?" I knew they weren't looking at me, but rather on a spot of wood panelling somewhere behind my left shoulder. I pointed to Captain Graff, Gelb's number two. "Let's start with you, mister. You violated the Rules of Engagement on at least thee points: you went below the hard deck of 2000 feet, you shot missiles off first, and you engaged with Protoss fighters and shot six of them down. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Sir, those weren't Protoss fighters. They were modified variants of the Scouts, yes, but those modifications were of Terran design. A normal Scout wouldn't have even been hurt by the normal sidewinder missiles. Our missile took down their shields completely. As for going below the hard deck, I had to position myself that way because I was dogfighting, sir. And for shooting, they shot first. You can confirm it with Gelb 1, or anyone else here that that's exactly what happened."

I glanced at the other pilots, and they each nodded. Glancing back at Captain Graff, I said: "very well, THIS time, I'll just leave this as an ass-chewing. NEXT time," I made a sour face. "You had better make DAMMED sure there isn't another time, got me?"

"Yes sir," he said.

"Go back to your quarters."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

The four pilots left and I asked the crew of SkyEye to hand over all mission records of the enemy contacts. I had a feeling I was about to discuss things with Zeratul. I sighed to myself. Why is it always MY headache?

Veronica Barnes

Undisclosed location

0345 Hours Local

I opened my eyes in some kind of vat filled with some kind of deep ultramarine blue-ish sort of liquid. I tried to move, but quickly realised that I was being pumped full of some kind of drug that limited my movement to only a few simple twitches. Eventually, I sorted out the jumble of memories from what had happened as I was running away from Kerrigan. Some truck had come out of nowhere, slammed into me, and I had been taken here… wherever HERE was.

My head hurt so much, but I couldn't really do anything against the pain. Owww… my head… I thought. Focusing my vision and hearing, I managed to see through the glass of the vat, and into the room. Several people stopped suddenly, and drew their guns.

"Who said that?" one of them asked. I recognized him as 'Charley' from the truck.

Another one of the guards shook his head. "Hell if I know, sir, but I could have sworn that it was some Protoss."

Protoss? I thought. Why would they let Protoss into here? And what are they going to do with me?

"There it is again!" Charley yelled.

There was a pause, and then one of the people looked at me.

"Uhh, Sir, call me crazy, but I think it's that Hydralisk talking to us!"

I concentrated to actually form words, and 'said': "you mean you can hear this?"

The guards looked baffled as to the very CONCEPT of a Hydralisk talking, but they all nodded.

"So… what are you planning to do with me? if you're going to dissect me or something, just get it over with. Nothing you can do could be worse then what I already went through."

"What do you mean? You're a Zerg, you don't feel pain!"

I sighed, bubbles coming out of my mouth. "I didn't used to be like this. I used to be human, but then some Zerg Matriarch swooped down and infested Me." and I began to explain what had happened to me.

Once I was finished, the people just looked at me as though I was insane, but a second later, they reconsidered, and eventually the liquid in the vat drained, and the glass retracted. As soon as it was, I fell onto the floor with a loud 'crash!' getting my muscles stretched I thanked the people there, and I asked for the closest exit door. If I was stuck in this body, then I might as well make the most of it. I was going to go back to the Hive Cluster, and tear Kerrigan apart myself.

One of the guards seemed so sense my plan, and he stepped in front of me. "I'm sorry, but I can't let you go out and fight Kerrigan."

I snarled, and said: "why not? I've got nothing better to do."

"Listen, Kerrigan has decimated hundreds of our forces, and she's not even taken a scratch from any of our attacks. Hell, she even somehow survives nuclear bombardment!"

"Look, I'm going, and that's final! If you really want to stop me, shoot me."

He didn't, he just stood in the way, and I considered pushing him aside and going on to attack her, but something held me back. A few seconds later, it hit me: I could see automated defences or at least, where they would come out and attack me. I sighed, making the Hydralisk's body shudder, and then I said: "What do you suggest then?"

"Train. Get better at fighting like this and hopefully even turn into a Hunter-Killer. Then, you might have a chance to fight her."

My brain knew exactly what a Hunter-Killer was: a more powerful version of the normal Hydralisk; carapace as hard as titanium, scythes that can cut through just about anything, needle spines that could easily down a full-grown elephant in a single hit, and they were ferocious. Only the evolved Zerglings, called Devouring Ones beat the Hunter-Killer. Thinking about it for a second, I reluctantly agreed and followed the person into a training room.

"Oh and, by the way," I said. "I didn't catch your name."

"Roberto Mendoza," he said.