"It's no secret that volunteers for the Confederate Armed Forces are few, hence the prevalence of neural resocialization. Not that this prevents the Confederacy from trying however, the numerous recruitment vids and pieces of propaganda we see every day on the holos being testament to this. What the Confederacy fails to realize however, is that its average citizen is smarter than they think. We know what such a job description entails. Orders are given that make no sense, your morals are compromised and in the end, you become something different. Something that you didn't set out to be."

"Something akin to the neurally resocialized criminals you fight beside…"

Charles Goto, Confederate Marine Corps (retired)

StarCraft: Loomings

Chapter 3: Home and Away

2029 hours, October 25, 2499 (SCT)

Antiga System, Antiga Prime

Alpha Squadron 14th, Echo Company command center

"Oh my god those tears are fake but Jesus Christ, those tits are real!"

"Take it off! TAKE IT OFF!"

Glancing with contempt at the two desk jockeys that were watching some soap, Staff Sergeant Robert Perry couldn't help but shift his gaze towards the holo displaying some curve with only her underclothing on. It was hard to tell what was being said exactly, but from what he could gather, it revolved around something about whose child the curve was carrying, the issue apparently being enough to bring the bimbo to tears. Precisely what she was doing without most of her clothing off was a mystery but still, not only had Perry walked in during the last few minutes of the episode, but it was a soap. It didn't have to make sense.

Glad to see that we didn't lose the finer aspects of human culture when we left Earth, the marine thought to himself, adjusting the belt of his regulation khaki and walking onwards to the briefing room. Usually the desk jockeys would have made him go through the usual red tape but considering that they were ogling over some woman's breasts, their failure to act like arseholes rather than let it come naturally was understandable.

"Next week on All our Children, the unthinkable will happen…"

Like what? They might develop an original plot? Perry wondered, arriving at the door to the briefing room and allowing the usual retinal scan. Not that the dark skinned, cybernetic eyed marine knew all that much about soaps or whatever other crap Confederate media put to air (alright, perhaps Dark Masters on the Galactic Entertainment Network wasn't too bad). As far as visual media went, he'd generally limited himself to VR games in the arcades back on Brontes IV, all of them first person shooters. The sergeant smirked as the scanner's beam headed upwards. As effective as his military training had been, he couldn't deny that the video games he'd played in his childhood had been instrumental, especially since-…

"Someone. Will. Die."

Perry spun around, the scan having only just been completed. He regretted it a second later, realizing that it had come from the holo, the declaration having sent the desk jockeys into some kind of chant reminiscent to the type featured in a professional padball game.

Wouldn't it be better if they just killed off the cast as a whole? the sergeant wondered. He shook his head. He had better things to do than reflect on the lowest common denominator of televised media, his priorities instead being to walk into the briefing room…

…and meeting Captain Hugh Fisher's icy glare.

Crap.

"Not only did I ask for first lieutenant Miranda Wilkes but I expected said lieutenant to be here fifteen minutes ago," the grey haired, grey eyed commissioned officer drawled, leaning back against his chair and putting his feet on the desk situated at the other end of the room. "Shall I berate you for being in error on both these counts? Or shall I believe that you are indeed Miss Wilkes and have undergone a change of gender?"

Sniggers, snorts and various other expressions of amusement rippled from Fisher's lieutenants, half of them sounding forced. Perry scowled, looking over the captain's lapdogs, numerous murderous fantasies rolling through his head. Managing to put them on the backburner he shifted his gaze to the object of his distaste

"It's the first option sir," Perry murmured. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Someone in the room let out a hoot, although Fisher didn't seem to notice, his gaze still locked into that of his subordinate. "I'll ignore that remark marine, and simply get to asking why you're here instead of your commanding officer.

Perry swallowed uneasily. It was an obvious question that Fisher was asking and one that he had every right to. Unfortunately that did little to settle his stomach. He didn't put it past that stagnant minded arsehole to exploit his authority and act like more of a prick than he really was.

"Lieutenant Wilkes is unavailable at this time sir," Perry murmured diplomatically. "She asked me to-…"

"Unavailable?" Fisher interrupted, his voice akin to that of an ursadon asking its prey why it shouldn't eat it. "I gave my lieutenants an hour's notice upon arriving back at HQ that there was a briefing scheduled for twenty fifteen hours." He leaned forward on his desk, his eyes narrowing. "Pray tell me, how can someone need more than one hour to prepare themselves?"

More sniggers rippled through the lieutenants gathered, Perry fuming in that it was directed towards him rather than the person who should actually be here. What the hell did I do to deserve this? the sergeant wondered. Why the hell did I agree to-…?

"Perry?"

"Lieutenant Wilkes has made herself unavailable at this time due to a need to recover from the combat operation against Sticklerville. Due to extreme circumstances in the field, Lieutenant Wilkes has requested that I fill in for her, passing any and all relevant information on to her at what is deemed an appropriate time, sir."

Perry finished speaking, his years of kissing arse back in basic suddenly coming back to him, much to his surprise and disgust. Judging by the look on Fisher's face he was clearly as surprised as Perry was, that perhaps the most volatile staff sergeant in Echo Company had actually toed the line for once. Somewhat ironically, his lieutenants instantly began crossing it.

"Extreme circumstances?" asked Lieutenant Craven, the dark haired, pasty skinned 'resoc' "How does fragging a few civvies come under the definition of extreme circumstances?"

Because we're not all psychopaths like you, Perry thought, remembering that the lieutenant was a neutrally resocialized former convict, a process brought on by fifteen confirmed acts of manslaughter and eight suspected ones. Exactly how such a person could reach such a position was a mystery to the staff sergeant but then again, members of Alpha Squadron weren't called the "Blood Hawks" for nothing.

"Alright Perry, I'll take your word for it," said Fisher eventually, ignoring Craven's outburst. "You best fill in."

Flexing his fingers Perry walked forward, taking note of those gathered-men with one foot in their grave, their eyes bound with too much red tape to see it. It was such a desire to keep his eyes, organic and cybernetic, free of such bonding that had stopped Perry from ever pursuing the same authority that his comrades in the room wielded. Looking back, he was surprised that he'd got away with it. Having played with guns and other weapons all his life on Brontes, both real and fake, it came as little surprise to many that he would enlist in the Marine Corps at the age of nineteen. Generally excelling in whatever tasks the Confeds threw at him, the Brontean had risen to the rank of corporal by the beginning of the Guild Wars in 2485, tensions between the Confederacy and the world of Moria having reached breaking point. Even now, a decade after the war had ended, Perry still enjoyed looking back on his experiences, experiences which gave him the rank of sergeant and a place in Alpha Squadron. After all, it was in the four year war that Perry learnt two valuable lessons…

Lesson 1: Life was cheap.

Morbid to be sure, but undeniably true. If life was a glorious thing that was endowed by some higher power, it wouldn't have been so easy to blast Morians with 8mm armor piercing spikes from his C-14 gauss rifle. If life was a great gift, he would have been perhaps less willing to slit the throat of the Morian slike who blasted his right eye out with a T10 pistol, prompting the implantation of an ocular implant. If life was something that every human being should treasure, then Perry wouldn't have felt so disappointed when the Confederacy 'negotiated' peace with its sister world.

It was partly in reflection of the last aspect of the "life is cheap" lesson that led Perry to come across the second undeniable fact…that red tape led to strangulation. Such a fact didn't come blasting out of the Morian sands in the same way that the first lesson did, but upon reflection, Perry had seen the truth in it. No-one in the Confederacy had taken the initiative in that war as far as he could tell, having assumed their seizing of "illegal" Morian mining operations could go on indefinatly. Its power eclipsing the might of Moria and Umoja combined, victory had pretty much been guaranteed from the outset. With that knowledge however, the Council had seemed uninterested in making sure that victory would come sooner rather than later.

Upon entering Alpha Squadron, Perry had sworn to himself that he would never let red tape strangle him like those he had followed into battle anymore than he had strangled that Morian sharpshooter who incapacitated half of his squad before being found. Looking around the briefing room, Perry could not help but feel validated by that, the lieutenants of Echo Company looking up at Fisher blankly, waiting for the prick to begin spilling out whatever he'd summoned them for.

At least Craven has an excuse, the NCO reflected as he passed Craven, the former serial killer looking at Fisher with a glazed expression that Perry guessed was reminiscent of the ones he gave his victims in his former life. As for the rest of them, they had simply fallen to monotony, backed by the lights dimming as soon as the staff sergeant reached his seat, Fisher launching into lecture mode. A hologram showing two small planets orbiting a sun was displayed.

"This is the Sara System," said Fisher, basically stating exactly what the text next to the hologram displayed. "Located in the Fringe Worlds on the edge of Confederate space, the only unique feature of the system is that it has two worlds capable of sustaining life."

"Get to the point capy."

Perry smirked as Fisher gave his lieutenants a stare that would have made a plant wither and die on the spot. Surprised that one of the COs here had a backbone but disappointed that the matter wasn't taken further he continued listening to the captain's lecture.

"Chau Sara and Mar Sara," Fisher continued, gesturing to the two planets respectively. "A somewhat rare set of planets in that not only are they both habitable, but both within roughly the same orbital path." He pressed a button on a remote in his hands and the hologram zoomed in to the smaller of the two worlds. "It is only Chau Sara, however, that has our interest in this matter."

Perry remained silent. He knew the history of the Sara System, how the two worlds had been catalogued by Confederate freelancers decades ago and settled before the Guild Wars. Although somewhat backwater, the two planets were both Core Worlds of the Confederacy, courtesy of their extensive mineral deposits. Mar Sara had always been overshadowed by its more prosperous twin Chau Sara however, even if it had started out as a penal colony. Still, it mattered little. Terrans had been meant to land on Gantris VI as a penal colony after all before ATLAS had conveniently shut down. What was wrong with carrying on tradition?

"Chau Sara," Fisher declared, shining a laser onto the hologram. "With a population of 400,000, it features the same hard baked mud and scrub as its larger twin, although has some jungles in its equatorial regions. It is recent events, however, that have our attention." He cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, it is known that Chau Sara is the current base of operations for the Sons of Korhal."

A murmur rustled through the room. The Sons of Korhal…Arcturus Mengsk's band of butchers that had risen from the nuclear fires of their homeworld. Responsible for the attack on the environmental plant on Vyctor 5, the assault on the Ghost Academy on Tarsonis and numerous other acts of terrorism, the SOK was generally regarded as the most significant rebel threat to the Terran Confederacy. Operating all across Confederate space and probably outside it also given that the Umojan Protectorate was believed to sponsor them, Mengsk's band of butchers could strike anywhere, anytime.

They'd proved it often enough.

"Based on the available data, we believe that the SOK began operations in August," Fisher drawled, probably not knowing or caring that it was only now that he had the full attention of everyone in the room. "Nothing major, certainly nothing to warrant the dispatch of a proper military force." He swept his gaze over them. "Mengsk is a clever bastard. He keeps his forces operating in small but cohesive units. Guerrilla operations, but with conventional fighting."

Perry found himself nodding in agreement. You weren't spineless if you had the guts to attack the capital of the Confederacy after all.

"High Command stepped up the threat index in mid-September, dispatching the Norad II and a few extra Colonial Fleet ships to patrol the space in and around the system," Fisher continued. "Nothing worth reporting though. Although Korhalian activity increased on Chau Sara in October, there was nothing to suggest that we were dealing with anything serious. Two days ago however…"

Fisher drifted off, pressing another button. The star map disappeared, replaced with an image of what Perry recognized as an Explorer-class science vessel.

"This is the Vigilance," said the captain. "Part of Epsilon Squadron, it was assigned to patrol the outer reaches of the Sara System. On October 21st, 2334 hours, Standard Colonial Time, the Vigilance reported a massive warp space overlay not far from their position. Not long after this, all contact was lost." He pressed another button, the image changing again. "This, gentlemen, is what was observed in the aftermath."

There were few things that made Perry's stomach turn, the marine having seen plenty of death over his career, half of it by his own hands. However, the sight of the remains of the Vigilance floating in space, along with numerous bodies…well, it was something new at least. Something horrible. Clenching his fist, Perry whispered a silent combination of prayer and curse, directed to the crew of the science vessel and Mengsk's band of butchers respectively.

"In the case that you can't comprehend the significance of this, I'm going to explain what has become obvious," drawled Fisher, switching off the hologram and returning light to the room. "The Sons of Korhal force has attacked and destroyed a Confederate vessel. Given the warp space overlay, they must have capital ships in the area. By definition, this means that the SOK force on Chau Sara is no minor threat. By default, this means that the threat index level has risen high enough to convince Magistrate Collins that his militia is a band of incompetent boobs and that only Alpha Squadron is capable of saving his sorry arse." Fisher grinned, somehow becoming even uglier as he did so. "Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to inform you that it is Echo Company which has been given the honor of kicking rebels up their rear!"

"Hoo rah!" the lieutenants shouted, all of them claiming what they would do once they found the Sons of Korhal and numerous other things that were beyond the ability of any human. Perry was the only exception, simply raising a hand in a distinctly non-jubilant way.

"Um, permission to speak freely sir?"

Fisher sighed, a faint twitch in his forehead indicating frustration at the interruption to the pervading mood. "I know I'm going to regret this sergeant, but go ahead."

"Sir, why only Echo Company?" asked Perry, rising to his feet. "What about the rest of the Division?"

"Staying behind on Antiga Prime to deal with the rebels," Fisher said casually. "Why? Feel sorry for them?"

"Not as much as I do for us…" said the staff sergeant softly.

The effect was instantaneous, silence descending upon the room in a second. All eyes turned to Perry, the marine only returning to favor to Fisher.

"Something wrong, sergeant?" whispered Fisher, the emphasis on rank not going unnoticed.

"Yes, there is," Perry answered calmly, his eyes, both organic and cybernetic, boring into his superior. "I'd like to question the sanity of sending only a single Company to deal with what appears to be a fully equipped Sons of Korhal force."

"We're the Blood Hawks," said Fisher simply, waving his hand idly. "We strike like lightning. A single Company is more than enough to deal with whatever poorly equipped and ill disciplined soldiers that Mengsk has."

"They've stuck it to Colonel Duke more than once," Perry pointed out.

Fisher snorted. "What, you think that was accomplished by Mengsk's skill? You know as well as I do that Duke only got his position through his Old Family status."

"I know," murmured Perry. "Same as you did probably…"

With that, Perry walked out, relishing the stunned silence. With a hiss the door closed, blocking out any shouts of outrage that may have followed him.

In truth Perry would have liked to stick it to Fisher even further, but he knew that there was only so far he could go without risking discharge, not to mention that Fisher didn't have the distinction of being an Old Family member. The captain respected him, knowing that Perry was a more competent leader of 5th platoon than Wilkes could ever be, but even so, the captain placed his authority above whatever Perry could provide.

Unfortunately, authority was leading to naivety at best and idiocy at worst. Damit, Fisher was an arrogant twat who should have retired years ago, but he was at least a competent commander. But surely he could see how unorthodox this set up was. A single Company of roughly 200 men, divided into 5 platoons of 40 soldiers each, being separated from the rest of its Division to engage a fully equipped rebel force whose location was not exactly known…Alpha Squadron was the best of the best, but even so…

And why rely on Echo Company anyway? Not only was the Norad II far closer to Chau Sara than their unit was but it also had a similar amount of soldiers and Duke himself onboard. True, doubts had been raised about the colonel's competence, especially in his failure to recapture Ghost Agent 24 after her defection to the Sons of Korhal, but he still had the Council's backing along with past victories to his credit. Why not send him to deal with the rebels? True, Perry had heard that there was apparently some big shot reporter onboard the ship from UNN which could have mixed things up, but would that have really made such a difference? If anything it would probably prove more beneficial, a victory over the SOK providing the Confederacy with vital propaganda material.

Perry shook his head. He had nothing against being dispatched to Chau Sara to deal with terrorists, far from it. But something about this situation reeked and as someone who sought to evade red tape, he despised that. Sighing he cast his mind back to the show the desk jockeys had been watching, the one with the pregnant curve…the one who'd been screwed at some point.

Screwed over…exactly the same way he felt.

0212 hours, November 8, 2499 (SCT)

Sara System, Chau Sara

Gilneas outskirts

Gilneas was a dump.

Alright, perhaps that was a bit harsh, but somehow, Miranda Wilkes had expected something more when it had been announced yesterday that they were touching down on the outskirts of one of Chau Sara's major cities. Unfortunately, a "major" city on a Fringe World pretty much translated to "backwater" by the standards of a more developed world such as Halcyon. Consisting of about thirty buildings, all of them drab, Gilneas was a typical Fringe World city, an isolated urban centre in an inhospitable environment.

Wilkes sighed, looking up at the early morning sky, the light of the stars and moon reflecting off her white armor. Here she was, on the edge of Confederate space, far removed from civilization. It felt…eerie somehow.

She shook her head. Get over it Wilksy, she thought, Perry's nickname having stuck. You're here to do a job, one which comes from Confederate High Command itself. A faint breeze washed over her, causing her hair to blow over her eyes. It was tempting to put on her helmet but protocol dictated that it should only be worn in combat situations in order to preserve the armor's power supplies. Even if it wasn't, she couldn't have been bothered. Warp travel was often exhausting and in her mind, a single day was not nearly enough to acclimatize to a different planet.

"You alright ma'am?" came a voice, Wilkes turning to see Perry standing beside her, his implant providing illumination in the darkness.

"Pardon?" asked Wilkes.

"I asked if you're alright," Perry repeated. "You seemed…distant."

"And there's something wrong with that?"

Perry remained silent, something that Wilkes had become accustomed to over the past two weeks. Truth be told, she had been distant, and she knew it. The events in Sticklerville…an innocent child had died on her watch and she knew that she was indirectly responsible. She couldn't face Fisher in the briefing, she just couldn't, thus relying on Perry to get the info for her. Alpha Squadron may have been known as the Blood Hawks, but innocent blood was on her hands and she felt sickened by it.

The child's glassy eyes…

The weeping mother…

Her troops looking to her for direction…

Wilkes shook her head. Chau Sara would be different. The Sons of Korhal were here, a rebel group that stemmed from the nuking of their homeworld, seeking to bring down the Confederacy and avenge the 35 million lives lost on that fateful day over a year ago. The Confederacy was far from innocent, but the notion of Mengsk matching the death count in the name of justice…it made her stomach turn. Chau Sara would be a turning point in stemming the loss of innocent life. Of that, she was-…

"Ma'am?"

Wilkes turned to Perry again, who pointed to something behind her. Spinning around she saw a young teenage marine holding out a data slate.

"Yes?" asked the lieutenant.

"Orders from Captain Fisher," the kid said, giving a salute which Wilkes returned before receiving the data slate. "He's sent a copy of the magistrate's briefing to the platoon commanders, along with his battle plan."

"Very well. Move out private," said Wilkes. Pressing the button a hologram of Magistrate Collins appeared, uniform and moustache clear to see.

"Good day captain," the magistrate drawled, his voice laced with the arrogance that came with high standing. "It appears you've arrived just in time. As you know, the renegades who call themselves the Sons of Korhal have been working for months to undermine Confederate authority in the fringe colonies."

"What authority?" Wilkes murmured bitterly. Hell, if the Confederacy had maintained any sense of authority in the outer colonies, they wouldn't have had to be dispatched to Antiga Prime, let alone Chau Sara.

"Well, they're on Chau Sara now, and I'd like to take care of them without involving the local militia," Collins continued. "That's where your Alpha Squadron boys come in." His visage, while laid back previously, suddenly became hard, emotionless… "There are to be no arrests, captain. I hope you understand what I mean. I want this problem solved once and for all."

With that the image faded, replaced by a hologram of a map of the area around Gilneas. Various arrows weaved through the valleys southeast of the city, detailing the route of each platoon. In the end, each was to converge on the Arathi Basin, where it was believed the Sons of Korhal base was located.

Wilkes was barely paying attention, turning back to Perry. "No prisoners?" she whispered. "Is the magistrate insane?"

"Insane?" Perry asked, genuine surprise on his features. "Didn't you hear him? The SOK's been here for months, striking at targets both military and civilian. Such measures are called for."

"What, inflicting mass slaughter!?" Wilkes exclaimed. "How does that make us any better than-…"

"Listen to me Wilksy," Perry snarled, grasping her shoulders. "There's only one high ground that we have to worry about in this operation and it isn't that of the moral kind. We're here to do a job and do it well, simple as that. Either you lead your men into combat or I'll do it for you."

The staff sergeant gestured to the marines milling about, their movement prompted by restlessness rather than the low temperatures, their suits' temperature settings functioning properly. Sooner or later, through the rigors of combat, their restlessness would be absent also…

Wilkes sighed. "Brief the men sergeant. We're moving out."

Perry saluted mockingly. "Yes ma'am. Glad to see you're finally facing reality."

If not for the darkness one could have seen Miranda Wilkes scowl at her second-in-command, his words not being wasted on her. Facing reality…exactly what he had told her to do back in Sticklerville.

And that's what I'm doing, she thought sadly, slinging her gauss rifle over her shoulder and tightening her belt, her equipment covering grenades, extra clips and a slugthrower sidearm. Gazing up at the stars she wondered what was going on Halcyon right now, wondering if her family could possibly understand the moral dilemma she faced via her mission parameters. Carry out justice by mass slaughter. Prevent mass slaughter by being equal amoral.

With a hiss her helmet fastened into place, pulling her visor down to offer protection from the wind. Turning on her suit's illuminators, she spoke into her radio, knowing that she was shaking hands with the devil…with his sense of justice.

"Fifth platoon, follow my lead. We're moving out."

Space.

It was a void empty of life. A blackness of emotionless. A dark shroud that covered the universe, punctuated only by the light of stars that were doomed to die. Light may have shone for now, but a time would come where stygian night never ended, where planets drifted like barren islands on an ocean of death. Such was the fate of the universe. The light of stars, of hope, could not go indefinitely.

But something else was illuminating the darkness…a gateway of purple energy. An overlay of warp space and real space. A herald for an Explorer-class science vessel to materialize out of the nothingness. Had it come to cry out against the fate of darkness? Perhaps. But if so this wasn't its only reason for being here, given that two dropships were dispatched from its hangers, heading towards the world of Chau Sara.

Like the science vessel these craft were unmarked. No heraldry went with them, no flamboyant symbols of arrival being present any more than transmissions to Chau Sara's space stations as to their purpose. With singular purpose the two dropships flew down to the barren planet, their destination and mission objective locked into their navigation systems.

Planet: Chau Sara.

Location: Arathi Basin.

Objective: Extermination.

A/N

Although the sign of good writing is being in the position to not have to explain its aspects, there's a few issues I'd like to point out.

-A minor change from the original version is that I've changed my interpretation of SCT from "Standard Confederate Time" to "Standard Colonial Time." Minor, I know, but it doesn't help that Blizzard has never explained what the acronymn actually stands for and as far as I can tell, it could stand for either of the two. However, I personally bet that "colonial time" is more likely, as a standard time would be required for the administration of its colonies specifically rather than the Confederacy itself. After all, Tarsonis had a series of colonies before the Confederacy was declared as the new form of goverment. Presumably this was driven by necessity, its territory a "Confederation" of Tarsonis and its worlds, hence the existance of the senate. Of course, whether the standard time uses Earth's 24 hour day or Tarsonis' 27 hour day is another matter...

-Yes, Gilneas and Arathi Basin are from Warcraft. How could you tell?

I considered changing the names in this redone version, but decided to keep them, as there was no utilitarian reason to change them. After all, StarCraft and Warcraft (and Diablo for that matter) reference their counterpart universes extensively, often sharing names or variants of them. As such, I decided to 'keep in character.' Nothing major, so don't worry-no Medivh or the Prime Evils :)