It occurred to me as I was writing the second chapter that I didn't do any kind of intro before I posted the first. I do not own Starcraft. This is a fictional work based off the Starcraft universe. I've been a fan of starcraft (and most blizzard products in general) for some time now. I've always enjoyed the game storyline (Jim Raynor's character in particular) but I've always found most of the Starcraft novels that have been published wanting for varying reasons. So I figured hell, why don't I write one. So here's chapter two. I've got the plotline planned out so I'll by trying to crank this out pretty steadily over the next couple months in my free time. This is the story of how Rory Swann got involved with Raynor's Raiders though I'll be throwing some other characters and sub plots in too along the way. Please let me know what you think, even if it's bad.
- James
Chapter 2: Backup
Lieutenant Stefanowski took a sip of his sixth cup of coffee with an exhausted sigh. This was his sixth cup in the fourth hour of his shift. He had another eight hours to go. By the end he'd be going on a good thirty-eight hours without sleep. He'd only arrived at the Braxis Research Station that morning. When he'd reported to Captain Mauser, the garrison commanding officer, the man had looked at his service record then gave him a look that spoke volumes on his enthusiasm about being landed with a completely green platoon commander fresh out of Officer Candidate School.
"This is your very first duty station isn't it Stefowitz."
"Yes sir. It's Stefanowski sir."
"That's what I said. Did you request it?"
"No sir… the Operations Officer back on Korhal said this would be a good station to get used to commanding a platoon though sir."
"Did he."
Mauser didn't like this kid. He looked like a twelve year old. They all looked like twelve year olds these days. Damn stupid kids with their stupid full heads of stupid hair and their whole stupid lives ahead of them. Mauser was getting old, or at least that's what he'd decided. His hair was now more grey than brown, and there was now more scalp on his head than hair. He could feel every one of his eighteen years in the marines. After the Confederacy had fallen he'd switched to the Dominion Marines, taking a demotion from Major to Captain in the process. Seeing as how the new Emperor was hunting down any surviving Confed troops under the banner of "promoting unity" it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Now here he was on this shithole planet Braxis with no prospects, according to his last conversation with the battalion commander who was cozy at his headquarters in the Sara system the bastard, for promotion. The way Mauser saw it though he had two more years till retirement and he'd be damned if he was going to get out of this job without a nice pension to show for it. So here he was. Freezing his ass off on this backwater training every near washout lieutenant that Dominion Command decided needed time to "get used to command". He rubbed his tired eyes and looked back at the pasty white lieutenant standing in front of him at the position of attention.
"So why'd you join the Corps Stefowitz?"
The twelve year old frowned slightly. Mauser decided he'd probably gotten his ridiculously long name wrong again. Stefowitz sounded better anyway. Instead of throwing a fit though the green lieutenant straightened, a look of almost comical pride crossing his young face.
"To serve the Dominion and protect humanity sir."
Idiot.
Well at least nothing ever happens on this damn planet, the aging marine decided. Mauser glanced at the clock on the wall before slamming the record shut, shoving it in a drawer and standing. He halfheartedly shook the young bastard's hand.
"Welcome to Braxis son. We'll see about getting you assigned to a platoon tomorrow. In the meantime I'm putting you on the next command center watch so grab a shower, get some chow and report to the observation deck by 1000 hours."
A crestfallen look crossed the young lieutenant's face.
"Well sir I uh… didn't really get a lot of sleep en route from the Capital…"
Mauser laughed inwardly. Like I give a shit.
Instead he said, "Welcome to the Marine Corps son. You need to get used to the sleep schedule here anyway. Now if you'll excuse me my shift ended four hours ago and I'm going to get some shuteye…"
Lieutenant Stefanowski remembered all this as he drained his seventh cup of coffee. At this much time without sleep though he felt half brain dead even with the caffeine, and judging by the way his hand was starting to twitch they made the coffee a little stronger here than back on Korhal. He turned to the tech operating the command center's comm station and sighed.
"Is it always this boring in here?"
The man gave him a "no shit" look before turning back to his monitor. Stefanowski took a glance out the window of the command center's observation deck, then sighed and turned to grab another cup of coffee. As he poured the thick black sludge into his thermos he grunted in disgust.
"Does the coffee always suck this much?"
The comm tech spared another glance at him.
"Pretty much. You get used to it though. Hell the Captain used to give some to his dog."
"And the dog liked it?"
"I dunno. It died."
Stefanowski poured the sludge back into the pot.
Both men's heads whipped around as faint gunfire sounded east of the station. Stefanowski looked back at the tech, who looked genuinely alarmed. He hadn't heard gunfire once since he'd been transferred here.
"Isn't they're a patrol off in that direction?" the newbie lieutenant asked, an edge of worried uncertainty in his voice.
"Yeah. They're the ones that reported in ten minutes ago," the experienced but equally worried tech answered before keying his comm headset.
"Rover One this is Braxis Main. Situation report over."
The only response was continuing gunfire from the east.
"Rover One this is Braxis Main. Respond with your SitRep over."
The gunfire died out leaving only an ominous silence on the observation deck. The tech glanced at the lieutenant uncertainly.
"Should we inform the Captain?"
Lieutenant Stefanowski thought back to Captain Mauser's parting words before he'd headed off toward the barracks…
"If you wake me up for anything less than a zerg invasion I'll have you on twenty-four hour watch for a week and stick my pistol so far up your ass you'll be spitting lead for a week."
"I don't think that's best," Stefanowski decided aloud. "I was trained for these kind of situations back on Korhal."
The tech gave him a look that was decidedly unconvinced but just then a voice came over the comm unit.
"Braxis Main this is Rover One! We're under heavy assault by enemy infantry! Need immediate reinforcements over!"
Alarmed, the tech keyed his transmitter. That wasn't Sergeant Travis.
"Rover One identify yourself."
A smattering of gunfire erupted again from the east. Then an angry voice game back over the comm.
"This is echo four Mason! Echo five Travis is KIA! We were ambushed in the canyon! We're falling back to the west end. Under heavy fire…" a burst of gauss rifle fire was heard over the comm unit and then silence.
Stefanowski put a hand to his forehead in frustration. Why? Why on his first damned watch. The tech watched him worriedly.
"Should we wake the Captain sir?"
The lieutenant shook his head.
"Negative. It's probably just some locals pissed off about taxes or something. What's the quick reaction force on station?"
"There's a dropship with four goliath's standing by in the hanger."
Stefanowski nodded in satisfaction.
"Perfect. Deploy them to the position of the patrols last transmission. Their orders are two reinforce and terminate all attacking forces."
"And we're not gonnna call the Captain?"
"You have a problem with my orders?" snapped Stefanowski angrily.
The tech shrugged and turned back to his monitor. This guy was an idiot but he was probably right. There hadn't been serious action on Braxis in years. In any case he wasn't paid enough to end up in the station brig for getting belligerent with a buck lieutenant. He switched to the QRF's frequency and keyed his transmitter.
0000
"You missed your true calling son. Could've done a hell of a lot more good in showbiz," Jim Raynor commented almost cheerily.
Corporal Mason took his eyes off of the big gauss rifle muzzle that was being held in his face to glance at the rebel commander. Raynor looked at ease standing in his black hardskin in the deep snow at the west end of the canyon. He held his gauss rifle in one armored hand and with the other leaned against the hull of a sleek black dropship. Along both sides of the ships hull were painted large white skulls that matched the skull on Raynor's visor.
After the ambush he and his squad of Raider's had jogged, along with the surviving Dominion marines, under heavy guard, to the mouth of the canyon where none too gently they'd advised the survivors of the patrol to exit their hardskins and load up into the dropship where they now sat shivering under the gaze of one of the blue armored Raiders.
All except Mason. Who'd been told to remain in his armor and place the distress call back to the Research Station. The man now stood, unarmed but in his hardskin under the gun of another of Raynor's marines. His brown eyes took in the black clad Raider with a mix of anger and uncertainty.
"You said if I cooperated you'd spare my men."
"I will at that Corporal. Course I wasn't planning on actually killing any of you anyway but I figure an actual member of the patrol placing the call to you base stood less chance of catching suspicion than one of my boys. I thank you kindly." The last he said with a wink for the glaring Corporal's benefit before turning to the Raider that had his gun on the man.
"Connel, get him into the ship and out of that hardskin. Tell the pilot to take off and head back to the staging area. We'll send for you when the fireworks are over."
"Roger sir," Connel replied without taking his gaze or muzzle off the armored Dominion marine. Indicating the dropship with his rifle and a curt, "let's go," he and the prisoner started up the ships ramp. A moment later the ships thrusters engaged and it rose into the air, the roar of the powerful engines mixing with the mechanical whine of the ramp closing. As the ramp clamped shut the two main engines rotated until they were horizontal, then a the ships forward thrusters cut out and the pilot accelerated away, heading toward the other side of the mountain range but keeping low to the peaks so as to avoid detection by the Dominion outpost to the west.
Raynor made his way through the snow to a white clad figure and a group of blue armored marines at the canyon entrance. His black combat suit made quite a contrast amidst the white snow and ice of the Braxis wastelands. Glancing up at the thick grey clouds Raynor breathed a sigh of relief. The cloud cover would come in handy before the day's end.
As he approached the canyon entrance he paused in front of a thin man with pasty white skin, an unruly shock of black hair, and thick orange glasses who was bundled up in a large white jacket and working at the control panel to a device that was resting in the snow. Glancing worriedly in the direction of the Dominion research station he turned back to the unarmored man, whose fingers were flying across a keypad on the side of the device.
"Can we pick it up some Stetmann? That Dominion response team is gonna be on us in a few minutes."
Dr. Egon Stetmann glanced up at the commander through his orange glasses. Before turning back to his work.
"Of course sir. The EMP will be ready momentarily. I really do think you'll be satisfied with its performance."
"And you're sure it won't fry our hardskins behind that cover."
Stetmann paused and looked back at Raynor, though he had to raise his head high to take in the commander in his combat suit. He ran a hand through his small soulpatch thoughtfully.
"Well sir, seeing as how we rigged the device from an electromagnetic pulse missile hijacked from a Dominion science vessel, and that we've never field tested anything like this before I'd say the odds are still certainly stacked in the favor of it not affecting you and the men's suits and leaving us completely…"
"I get it Stetmann… you're a endless supply of reassurance," Raynor interrupted. He glanced at the dozen marines waiting behind his science officer. They shifted and glanced at each other nervously but otherwise said nothing. Some double and triple checked their weapons. These were men that had been fighting with Raynor for years. They were used to working "outside the box" and had a great deal of faith in the commander. Nevertheless Jim put an edge of confidence into his voice that he didn't necessarily feel and looked back down at Stetmann.
"Just try and speed it up."
Stetmann was already back to typing on the keypad.
"Well of course sir. I was almost finished anyway and… there!"
The makeshift panel on the side of the EMP bomb flashed "Armed" in bright red letters and Raynor turned back to the marines, gesturing toward the canyon with his free hand.
"Everybody back into the canyon! Move!"
Without hesitation the armored marines turned and began sprinting back toward the canyon mouth and the protective rock formations. As Jim followed suit he scooped up Stetmann by the waistband and threw him over his armored shoulder. The skinny scientist yelped in protest.
"Hey!"
"No time for lollygagging Stetmann," Raynor grinned, knowing the man couldn't see the expression. The scientist's cries subsided into resentful mumbling, but he stopped struggling and he and Raynor joined the other Raiders behind a thick outcropping of rock just inside the canyon. Raynor deposited Stetmann next to him, who looked around and nodded in satisfaction.
"Yes… yes this should work just fine. The EMP bubble won't be able to penetrate the foliated rocks in this formation."
"I'm glad to hear it Doc," Raynor replied distractedly. He glanced behind him at the waiting marines who gazed back at him in disciplined silence, a few nodded confidently back at him. He then risked a glance around the rock, making sure to keep back so he wouldn't expose the black armored shoulders of his hardskin to the incoming Dominion reinforcements.
They hadn't taken cover a moment too soon. In the sky no more than a mile out from the canyon mouth Raynor could make out the slipstream of an incoming dropship. He ducked back behind the rock and held up four fingers so his marines could see them. Forty seconds.
Stetmann whispered up to him, "You should have a good minute to minute and a half before the pulse wears off and they can bring their Goliath's secondary systems online."
"I got it Doc."
The nervous scientist continued, "Of course if their systems software has been changed it could take less time, in which case we'll be shredded by autocannons. Or if your intel was wrong and they have other unit's that we haven't accounted for…"
"Stetmann."
"Yes commander?"
"Shut up."
0000
The Dominion dropship's twin engines roared as it moved through the grey clouds above the Braxis wastelands. The Arm and Whip sigil was painted proudly on both sides of the hull and the cockpit, engines, and the edges of the down sweeping wings were painted Dominion red. Attached to the bottom of the troop compartment via magnetic clamps were four Goliaths. The small walkers had their mechanical legs folded and locked against their cockpits to make them easier to transport. Inside the walkers the pilots were listening to their last minute brief from the command center.
"… reinforce and terminate all attacking forces."
In the lead Goliath's cockpit Staff Sergeant Bricks keyed his own transmitter.
"Solid copy on all Braxis Main."
"Good luck. Braxis Main out."
The dropship pilot's voice came over the Goliath team's frequency. Calm but with a hint of excitement. Braxis didn't see much action and it was looking to be an interesting day.
"Twenty seconds to drop."
"Roger that. Hammer team prepare for drop."
Three voices sounded off over the comm, confirming the rest of the team's readiness for deployment. The dropship pilot brought his ship in low, firing his breaking thrusters, sending the main engines into their vertical position, and sending the craft into a hover thirty meters from the snowy landscape. As the ship settled into position a light above Staff Sergeant Bricks' control set went from red to green.
"Hammer team releasing clamps in three… two… one… drop."
With a series of loud clunks the clamps holding the Goliaths to the bottom of the dropship released and all four plummeted toward the ground. As they dropped the pilots released the locks holding the walker's legs up, extending them to absorb the impact of the fall. With four loud thuds the big attack walkers hit the ground, throwing dirt and snow into the air. Not missing a beat the pilot's edged their throttles forward and the four Goliaths moved swiftly toward the canyon mouth, arming their autocannons and hellfire missiles as they went. Each walker stood nearly eighteen feet high, with a bulbous main compartment resting on two thick mechanical legs. Out to the side of the cockpit were the blocky missile launchers and underneath those rested the six foot long autocannons that, all told, made the Goliath a force to be reckoned with on any battlefield.
"Hammer Team skirmish line facing the canyon."
The rest of the team acknowledged and the other three walkers moved to Bricks' right and left till they were advancing abreast of each other. Together the intimidating machines moved toward the foot of the mountain range their legs punching through the deep wasteland snow leaving great prints in their wake. Bricks switched to the marine patrols frequency.
"Rover One this is Hammer One come in over."
Silence answered him.
"Rover One this is Hammer One…damnit does anybody see anything?"
"Negative boss"
"No joy."
"I've got something! Direct front! About twenty meters in front of Two."
"All stop!"
All four goliath's came to an immediate halt and Bricks strained his eyes, searching the ground in front of the walker next to him till he spotted what the other pilot was talking about. Twenty meters in front of that walker and a good fifty meters from the mouth of the canyon was a dark metallic grey object lying in the snow. Even from his position in his goliath he couldn't make out the details of the object with it half buried in a drift. A body maybe? Bricks gazed at it for a moment, willing it to be closer, before sighing and hitting the transmitter.
"Three and Four, flank out a hundred meters north and south of the object and cover the canyon entrance. Two, your with me. Let's see what this thing is."
The rest of the team sent their acknowledgements and while the two walkers on the end of the line flanked out, Bricks and the remaining pilot advanced toward the object. As they got closer he was able to make it out in more detail. It was cylindrical and came to a point at one end. On one side of the cylinder a keypad was wired into the device with something flashing in glowing red letters…
Staff Sergeant Bricks' eyes widened.
The EMP detonated with a blinding flash that forced all the Goliath pilots to curse and turn away from the light pouring in through their canopies. Sparks flew inside their cockpits as their goliath's systems shorted out. The EMP round was designed to be launched from a science vessel and had an effective radius of over three hundred meters. Even the two goliaths on the flanks didn't stand a chance.
Bricks cursed as a spark found it's way in the collar of his camouflage jumpsuit. Swatting at the offending ember he opened his eyes and punched desperately at the goliath's cold start button with no response. He keyed his comm unit's transmitter and then realized that it too had shorted out. He was dead in the water. Looking around at the other goliaths he realized they were all in the same position. The big walkers stood motionless in the snow, all their armor and ordnance for nothing. Then Bricks caught movement out of the corner of his eye and his cursing started up again with a vengeance.
From the mouth of the canyon came over a dozen marines in combat suits. They came sprinting through the snow in a rush with their gauss rifles at the ready. A few of them carried what looked like demolition charges. Bricks slapped his reset button frantically praying to whoever was listening that today was his day.
It wasn't.
Bricks immediately noticed that the marine's combat suits were painted in a dark blue and when he noticed the sigil on their left shoulders he uttered a word his mother certainly would not have appreciated. The marines split up, some taking up a position about ten meters away from the immobilized goliaths, gauss rifles ready in case the walkers came back to life early. One marine sprinted to each individual walker however, and Bricks watched as one of the blue bastards affixed a demo charge to one of the other goliath's leg. Using the metal bar on the walker's knee that the pilot used to get into the cockpit the armored figure lifted himself up to where the pilot could see him and banged on the canopy with a big armored hand.
A scuffling noise from below told Bricks that one of the enemy marines was doing the very same thing to his own walker and, unsurprisingly, a moment later a man jumped up and waved to him. This wasn't just any Raider though. The man's armor was black with a white skeleton painted over the front and his visor open. Bricks immediately recognized the face looking in at him, his mind flashing back to a hundred briefings.
James Raynor.
Raynor gave him a wry grin then held something up right in front of Bricks' face. A detonator. If that wasn't a clear enough message Raynor dropped back to the ground and moved out in front of the Dominion staff sergeant's walker so that he could see him. He then pointed at the ground in front of him before pointing to the detonator with a severe look. The message was crystal clear. Get out or I'm gonna blow you into little bitty bits.
With a frustrated yell Bricks looked to his left and right. The other goliath pilots were exiting their walkers under the watchful gaze of Raynor's men. With one final curse for good measure Bricks hit the button to open his goliath's canopy. Moments later he dropped to the snow, wincing at the cold, and turned to face the infamous revolutionary with his hands raised. Raynor stood there with a serious look on his face and his gauss rifle raised.
"Good choice friend."
He flicked his muzzle meaningfully toward where the other pilots were being lead and the two started off in that direction. Bricks stared straight ahead as he trudged through the snow. His jaw clenched except for uttering one question.
"What are ya gonna do with us?"
Raynor answered with a note of dry humor in his voice.
"Tie you up with your friends so you can spend time getting to know one of my boys who's gonna make sure you don't cause a ruckus. Then we're gonna pay a visit to that research station of yours. Appreciate you handing over those goliath's by the way. I think they'd look a mite better in blue though."
Bricks' jaw clenched tighter.
The whine of large engines echoed around the snowfield and Bricks looked up to see a black dropship descending not far from where he and his men were being gathered, another close behind it. Bricks joined his men and in short order they were moved onto the second ship. An armed marine sat down across from them to discourage any roughhousing.
Raynor turned to Stetmann, who was waiting with a pair of techs who had exited the second dropship.
"Stetmann."
"Yes commander?"
"Get these goliath's bundled up. We'll signal you when the business at the station is over."
"Right… uh yes right away sir!"
Raynor nodded, satisfied, then turned to the waiting marines and made a circular motion with one armored hand before pointing to the first dropship. Without missing a beat the Raiders began jogging toward the waiting ship, Raynor following. As the last of them jogged up the ramp he made his way up to the cockpit and tapped the pilot on the shoulder.
"We're good. Wheels up."
The pilot rubbed his shoulder (one armored man's poke is another man's jab) then gave a, "yes sir", before hitting the switch to raise the ramp and setting about the business of getting the ship into the air. Raynor stayed at his position between the troop compartment and the cockpit using his free hand to brace himself as the ship lifted into the air, turned, and accelerated toward the Dominion base. He adjusted his suits comm frequency and activated the transmitter.
"Alright gents. We are greenlight for the assault. Fall in."
Voices acknowledged over the comm units in his suit and the dropship's cockpit.
"Band Wagon flight copies."
"Reaper flight copies."
Raynor watched with satisfaction as three other dropships descended from the clouds above his own, settling into formation to the right and left. Above them four wraith fighters accelerated, shooting out of the cloud cover and past the dropships heading toward the Dominion outpost to the east.
"Let's go say hello."