"O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world that has such people in it!"
"'Tis new to thee."
Miranda and Prospero from The Tempest by William Shakespeare
StarCraft: Loomings
Chapter 5: Aftermath
0443 hours, November 8, 2499 (SCT)
Sara System, Chau Sara
Office of the Colonial Magistrate
"And you're sure that there aren't any satellites in range?"
"Negative sir. Most of the planet's satellites are in geo-stationary orbit and as such, cannot be moved to cover the basin. The earliest flyby of a mobile one will be in approximately two point four hours."
Collins had suspected that would have been the case, yet still saw fit to question the AI that was capable of treating the situation with more calm than he, or any human for that matter, could muster. Chau Sara's observation satellites had been designed with keeping an eye on its planetary system in mind rather than spying on the planet below. After all, what reason could there be to spy on a peaceful, backwater Fringe World? What threat could possibly arise that would warrant the use of satellites for terrestrial observation? At the time of Chau Sara's founding, there simply wasn't any.
Of course, no-one could have predicted the coming of the Sons of Korhal back then. No-one could have anticipated a hostile first contact with aliens. No-one could have predicted any of this…
Aliens… Collins mused silently, his lack of energy stemming from more than just lack of sleep. What is the world coming to?
In truth, Collins already knew. He may have been the magistrate of a backwater Fringe World, but still, Chau Sara was considered one of the core worlds of the Terran Confederacy, courtesy of its strategic position on the edge of its domain. As such, Collins had been granted access to certain Confederate secrets…secrets that included the existence of certain alien species.
It had been obvious from the start of humanity's arrival in the Koprulu Sector that he was not alone in the universe, the three original colonies all having an abundance of native life. The creatures found on a Fringe World by a law marshal back in 2487 however, were something new. Located on a number of neighboring planets as well, they were not native to the Koprulu Sector and seemed to have been dispersed in a manner resembling a conscious attempt at infestation.
The Confederacy had dealt with the situation appropriately of course, transporting the creatures to secret facilities and keeping their existence a secret by unleashing a man-made virus on the planets, depopulating them through what was reported as a strain of cholera.
No great loss of course," Collins reminded himself. Sacrifices always have to be made in the name of science.
Science certainly had a field day with the creatures and the purple, spongy substance they brought with them, named larva and creep respectively. Collins hadn't been privy to the full details, but understood that the larva seemed to be precursors to something…else, containing countless DNA sequences with billions of possible combinations. In layman's terms, they had the possibility to mutate into everything and anything.
But it's not always that easy, is it? Collins thought bitterly, remembering the setbacks they'd suffered last year. The Sons of Korhal had somehow acquired knowledge of the creatures' locations, attacking both the Fujita Facility on Vyctor 5 and the Ghost Academy on Tarsonis, both of which held valuable specimens and indeed, the only specimens. However, although he wasn't sure of the exact means, new groups of xenomorphs had been obtained on both Chau Sara and Mar Sara in recent months, sent to the Flannum and Jacobs Installations respectively. Not even the SOK could know of this...
Or could they? Collins wondered, the cold, dark feeling that was fear crawling up within him. What if Mengsk came to Chau Sara for more than mere rebellion. What if…what if…?
The pieces were beginning to fall into place. The Sons of Korhal coming to Chau Sara, attacking a distant Fringe World which served little tactical value to their rebellion or the Confederacy apart from its status as a Core World. The xenomorphs being let loose just as the Alpha Squadron forces were called to the world…
Collins was beginning to sweat. If word of this got out, his career, or what was left of it, would be over, being forced to act as the Confederate scapegoat. "Plausible deniability" could only go so far after all…
"Sir, are you listening?"
With a jerk, Collins was brought back to grim reality, a reality that the AI seemed intent on ensuring that he remained trapped in.
"What?" the magistrate asked, sounding irritable from a combination of worry and lack of sleep.
"Incoming transmission sir. Priority One."
Collins' spirits raised a little. "From Fisher?" he asked hopefully. Hell, maybe the Alphas have managed to eradicate the critters, clearing up this mess for me.
"Negative sir," the AI replied coolly. "It's coming from above the planet, from the Explorer-class science vessel Charon.
With a silence that betrayed his ressignment to fate, Collins gave a nod and opened the link, a holo projector coming down from the ceiling of his office. He'd never heard of the Charon, and given that he was kept informed of all movements of the Colonial Fleet in the Sara System (at least, that was what the brass assured him), it must have been a vessel from outside the fleet. Probably from the Intelligence Corps, or one of the Squadrons.
"Magistrate Edwin Collins I presume?" came a voice.
"That's me," Collins grunted, leaning back in his chair and resisting the urge to use it for sleeping purposes. "What can I-…"
Collins stopped short. The holo projector was a malfunctioning piece of junk at best, and it took time for an image to form completely. Today was no different in that regard. What was different however, was the image itself. That of a man. A man that made Collins' heart skip a beat.
He was…unnatural. Tanned, 'polished' skin complemented a thin figure with cropped black hair…hair that gave way to a visage that was half cybernetic, a large red ocular implant covering his right eye and forehead. His throat was even more unnatural, scarred flesh interwoven with advanced circuitry. His left organic eye was glazed over, a distant, cold view that spoke of indifference to the world around him and those who dwelt in it.
"My name is Lieutenant Colonel Xavier Kurze," the man rasped, his cold, half metallic, half organic voice begetting an authority that far superseded Collins' own. "I'm a member of Cerberus Recon Squad and captain of the Charon."
Collins went pale. "Cer…Cerberus?" he stammered. "You…you're part of-…"
"Yes magistrate, Cerberus Recon Squad," the newcomer snarled, irritated at having been interrupted. "An elite Confederate black ops group that few know of and even fewer have come into contact with." Kurze's visage narrowed. "Do you know why I'm here, magistrate, why I'm wasting my time with this backwater colony?"
Collins gulped, deciding then and there that he'd do anything and everything necessary to save his own skin.
"Because…we're facing an infestation?" the magistrate asked timidly.
The cyborg snorted. "An infestation? Hardly, Mr. Collins. It's more complicated than that. Much more complicated."
"How much more?" Collins whispered.
"Complicated in that this is more than an infestation we're facing," said Kurze softly. "Complicated in that this is something that this is something we've never faced before. Complicated in that this is an invasion."
Halcyon, 25 years ago…
"Daddy! DADDY!!!"
In a surprisingly short amount of time, the door to her room opened, her father standing in the doorway. Part of the girl's mind, a part not overtaken by fear, wondered as to why he was still up when it was past midnight. Maybe grownups had later bedtimes? Or had the monsters kept him up too?
"Miranda?" the man asked. "What's wrong?"
The girl, holding her knees tightly and sitting at the end of her bed, looked up at the man with wide eyes-eyes that hadn't adjusted to the darkness as well as she'd have liked. Still, given the circumstances, perhaps that was a blessing…
"Monsters daddy…" she whimpered, pointing at the base of her bed with one hand and holding Snuggles tightly with the other. "There's monsters under my bed."
The man sighed. "Miranda, honey, I'm sure that-…"
"They're there daddy!" the girl protested again. "I can hear them! They're waiting for me to fall asleep and then they'll-…"
Exactly what the girl believed the monsters would do was never revealed, considering that the roll of thunder that signaled the beginnings of summer. It also prompted the girl to let out a squeak and bound off the bed with Snuggles in hand, holding both the stuffed bear (mecha bears had never been cuddly enough for her liking) and her father's leg like a lifeline.
"There daddy…" she whispered, pointing to the space under the bed hidden by sheets. "That's where they are…"
Peter Wilkes sighed. This was going to be a long night…
The long night actually turned out to be a long morning. An hour's worth of poking under beds, turning on lights and hot chocolate. And in that entire hour, no monster was ever found. They must have played hooky.
"Thanks daddy," the girl said as her father tucked her in. "I knew that the monsters would be frightened of you."
"Really?" Peter murmured, not sure whether to take that as a compliment or insult. "Guess they're cowards."
"Or you're just brave," the girl said, springing up and hugging her father with the energy that only a child can summon at one in the morning. Despite himself, Peter couldn't help but reciprocate, drawing his daughter in close and stroking her hair.
"Daddy?" she whispered eventually. "What if they come back? What if the monsters return?"
Peter Wilkes knew that it was a lost cause to explain to a four year old girl that monsters didn't exist so he did the next best thing;
"If they come back, I'll be here," he said, kissing his daughter softly on the forehead. "By my life, Miranda, I'll never let any harm to you…"
2055 hours, November 8, 2499 (SCT)
Sara System, Chau Sara
Gilneas
"Looks like you were wrong dad…"
It was funny how the human mind worked. Under normal circumstances, Miranda Wilkes, glad to be in her regular fatigues instead of CMC armor, would never have thought that sitting at a table outside a small café in Gilneas would have taken her back to a memory twenty-five years old, especially since the instant coffee she was drinking should have kept her alert and focused. Of course, being attacked by…things when on a mission to engage rebel forces, nearly being killed by said things, and then being saved by Cerberus Recon Squad, hardly made for normal circumstances…
Wilkes buried her face in her hands, the coffee forgotten, events having caught up with her. It was all too much, the knowledge that humanity was not the only intelligent species in the galaxy. True, there had been signs of course…formations on planets which hinted at sentient intervention, mysterious lights on the borders of terran space. Yet this was the day that intelligent life had been found. This day that humanity knew that other species had reached sentience.
And what happens? Wilkes wondered bitterly. We end up killing each other on sight.
Wilkes sighed, swallowing some of the coffee that tasted like the plastic cup it was in. The idealism of first contact had been quashed by…well, reality. And Wilkes knew from experience that reality was never grand. Centuries of wondering whether there was intelligent life, centuries of gazing at the night sky…and the only answer was bloodshed.
Surely there had to be more to life than this?
Yet there was more to the situation than aliens and Wilkes knew it. Cerberus had been on Chau Sara "to kill anything and everything that wasn't human," a line that spoke of confidence and knowledge. And considering that Cerberus Recon Squad was only dispatched in the most extreme circumstances, half of them reeking of black ops gone awry…
Wilkes clutched the cup tightly. Someone knew. Someone knew about those…things, had hidden the existence of alien life from humanity. And given the fact that Cerberus was here, someone had fucked up royally in the keeping of this secret.
Still, at least there's a bright side to all this, Wilkes reflected morbidly. At least the critters took care of the SOK…
Fisher, ever the one to follow protocol, had insisted that the E Company, or what was left of it, continue with the operation. They'd come across the rebels alright, or rather, what was left of them. Mutilated body parts didn't make identification easy, but it could safely be said the insurgents had suffered close to 100 percent casualties. A silver lining some might argue.
Or a dark one… Wilkes thought. "Especially considering that-…
"You alright ma'am?"
With a start, the lieutenant's coffee went flying, courtesy of a slugthrower being raised to face the trespasser. The draw was exceptional, but the validity was somewhat in question. After all, it's hardly a good idea to draw a weapon on your staff sergeant
"Perry?" Wilkes asked.
"What, you expected a grunt?" Perry asked, gazing down the barrel of the pistol without flinching. "Don't count on it Wilksy, they're too busy being jackasses."
"Jackasses?" Wilkes asked slowly, lowering the pistol but not her guard. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, the usual…" said Perry idly, sitting down opposite his superior. "Gilneas is now under martial law and the troops are making sure it stays that way."
Wilkes resisted the urge to groan. Gilneas had already been transformed into what was essentially a prison; barbed wire at the town's entrances, 20 mm auto-turrets scattered throughout the perimeter… Gilneas' citizens weren't happy about it, especially since they hadn't been told why this was being done, but knew better than to stir up trouble.
And now, to top it off, I have a bunch of resoced idiots no doubt stirring up trouble for them… Wilkes thought bitterly. She laid her head on her elbows stretched across the table, as if about to fall asleep. God, I'm sick of this…
"Don't worry about it ma'am," said Perry calmly, as if reading her thoughts. "I've seen to it that 5th platoon at least toes the line."
"Great," murmured Wilkes. "Wake me when you know how many lives are on my head this time."
Perry remained silent, prompting Wilkes to drift off. First Antiga Prime, now a disastrous foray against aliens on Chau Sara. Wilkes' sub consciousness started preparing a list of other mishaps in recent times, but was cut short, Perry grabbing his superior's left shoulder…hard.
Wilkes let out a cry of pain. Perry's grip was strong and the fact that he'd sized her wounded shoulder, a shoulder that a scythe of some kind of overgrown insect had plunged through less than twenty-four hours ago, it was excruciating.
"Let me make something clear," Perry growled, ignoring Wilkes' shouts that stemmed from a combination of pain, rage and fear. "Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to help anyone. It's a waste of your time, and as your subordinate, I have to ensure that your time, and therefore my time isn't wasted."
"Perry, let go of me before I-…"
"Shut up!" Perry yelled, tightening his grip even further. "Not only is being miserable a waste of time, but it's irritating, melodramatic and endangers the platoon. I didn't sign up to act as a babysitter for my commanding officer!"
"Then why bother!?" Wilkes shouted, tears running down her face from the pain. "You're high enough in the chain of command to complain to Fisher. Why not just-…"
"Because we need you, Miranda," Perry interrupted, letting go of his grip. "We need you now more than ever."
Wilkes was too focused on massaging her shoulder to respond, but her widening eyes served just as well as words.
"We faced down aliens," said Perry calmly, yet with an edge to his voice that Wilkes wasn't familiar with. "We faced down aliens that were intent on killing us and if wasn't for you, they probably would have done so."
"For me?" Wilkes spluttered. "What the hell did I do?"
"You gave the order to fire ma'am. While we were taking in the fact that bugs were bearing down on us, you remained in control and allowed the rest of us to follow."
Wilkes remained silent, her eyes wide. With a sigh, Perry leant back, giving an air of mysticism.
"Words have powers of their own," the sergeant continued. "There's…magic in them, the kind of magic that's found in literature. Yet words also have power…the power to end a life, the power to save it…" He sighed and faced the starry night. "That's what chain of command is all about, ma'am. The power of words. "And today, lieutenant, you used that power exceptionally." Perry lowered his gaze to meet his superior's "Never forget ma'am, there's something magical about words. And that magic is part of what makes us human."
The pain in her arm forgotten, eyes wide, the urgent beeping of her comm. unit unheard and the rising of feelings that were largely alien to her, Miranda Wilkes had to agree…
The being liked to consider itself above petty emotion. But there was something about watching its minions slaughter its foes that was so…satisfying.
Perhaps it was due to consolation, that its power was eternal, that it was invincible even against other species that had risen to sentience. After all, had not its true foes reached the pinnacle of physical evolution, the so called Purity of Form, achieved sentience? Was their conflict not inevitable?
Of course it was inevitable. And while this new race called humanity was but a shadow of its true enemies, and even of its own kind, they still made worthy foes.
Not that this left victory in doubt however, the bodies of its enemies standing in testament to the ferocity, the power of the Swarm. Though the mammals' weapons claimed hundreds of its minions, it had hundreds more to spare. Every bullet, every missile, every single projectile was just a drop in a river. And once the river reached its foes and began drowning them in an orgy of violence, the screams of the dying mixing with the scream of the Swarm, the path lay open…
…to the Flannum Installation.