"Between every battle, between every war, there is a short, all-too brief time of peace. At the basic level this is referred to as R&R, yet the term does not do the period justice. For in the intermission between every bout of horror, one hopes that sane minds will prevail, that those with reason will triumph over those who plough into conflict."
"More often than not however, insanity prevails."
Tobias Pullman, Confederate Army (retired)
StarCraft: Loomings
Chapter 8: Powerplays
The being was eternal. The being was immortal. The being would never die. That being said however, this did not mean that it could not learn.
It always learned. It always evolved.
It had indeed learnt much from the fighting in and around the Flannum Installation, had been able to ascertain the strengths and weaknesses of its enemies. A somewhat rare process, all things considered. Its creators had detailed such traits of all the species they had played a hand in guiding, giving the being their location and how best to assimilate or eradicate them. These humans were different however, in not only had the Wanderers From Afar seemingly played no role in guiding them, yet were still capable of prompting it to analyse their traits rather than eradicate or eliminate them wholesale.
Actions that the being could undertake easily of course. But this close to the Firstborn, it could not afford any mistakes.
As such, it learned.
As such, it evolved.
As such, it decided its next course of action, relaying its directives to all its commanding strains throughout the Swarm. The next card would be played. The game would continue.
It would continue through the beginning of true war...
2340 hours, November 10, 2499 (SCT)
Sara System, Chau Sara
Explorer-class science vessel Charon
"This is outrageous! Here I am, minding my own business-…"
"Magistrate…"
"When suddenly, out of the blue, I get a bunch of eggheads-…"
"Magistrate…"
"…and Alpha hicks who-…"
"I heard that!" shouted Colonel Edmund Duke, the three way transmission carrying his voice from the Dauntless, right down to what was currently Collins' office. And given how the magistrate shut up immediately, it was evident that the former fleet captain heard him in turn.
Good, thought Kurze, silently thankful that Alpha Squadron's commander had calmed things down. He was beginning to annoy me.
Sighing, the lieutenant colonel leant back in his chair, briefly closing his eyes. He was tired…not from lack of sleep, though that had indeed been lacking in recent times, but from the knowledge that as far as the campaign on Chau Sara had progressed, there was still a long way to go. And Collins demanding an explanation for "actions that make no sense" wasn't helping matters.
"My apologies colonel," said Collins, his tone of voice unusually reconciliatory. "It won't happen again."
Duke simply grunted, sounding like the great apes of Old Earth that he was so often compared to. The meeting was without visuals, but Kurze doubted that Duke had changed much from the profile pics he'd examined a few hours ago. Gray hair, a hard jaw, a drawl from the south of one of Old Earth's major countries…typical gung ho material that could walk the walk, unless said walk included recapturing Sarah Kerrigan after the destruction of the Fujita Facility.
Kurze smiled. An embarrassing incident for the Confederacy, but more so for the colonel that let Ghost No. 24 slip through his fingers…
"Anyway," continued Collins. "While I have no grudge against what's left of Echo Company, I do take issue with those scientists here."
"What, they may increase your IQ or something?" sneered Kurze.
"Yes," said Collins. Silence, until, "Wait, no! What I meant is-…"
"Fear not magistrate, I'll find them new accommodation," laughed the Cerberus commander, marveling how in the face of an alien invasion, Collins could still provide him with a source of humor, marveling at how after all he'd seen and done, he was still capable of experiencing such an emotion to this extent. "They have the right to be with people of significance."
Collins growled from the other end of the line, sounding like…well, like something that growled. Like a dog perhaps, but apart from guard dogs, Kurze had never been one for canines.
"Listen, Kurze," snarled the magistrate. "I accept that you had authority over this operation. But times have changed. Colonel Duke is here and he outranks you."
"So?" Kurze asked.
"So it's his decision as to how best to proceed," said Collins smugly. "And I'm sure that he'll have respect for the person who alerted him to the xenomorph threat in the first place."
What? Kurze wondered.
"What?" Duke asked. "What you on about, boy?"
"The transmission I sent you," said the magistrate, a hint of doubt in his voice. "The request for aid I made."
"Request for aid!?" Kurze thundered. "What the hell is going on here?"
Duke grunted. "Hell if I know, L. C. High command tells me to divert to Chau Sara, I don't question why."
"High command?" Collins asked, desperation now evident in his voice. "But…I contacted you during the attack on the Flannum Installation. Someone nearby who outranked the lieutenant colonel. Someone who would run things by the book. Someone who…who…"
Kurze smiled. So ignorant. So helpless.
"Don't know what you're talking about," grunted Duke. "I didn't receive any transmission from you. Where'd you send it to?"
"Antiga Prime. The Norad II specifically."
"Waste of time. I'd transferred to the Dauntless days ago. Some UNN reporter is on my flagship and high command deemed it prudent to leave him in the dark. Your orders never reached me."
Silence descended upon the line, broken only by the faint hiss of static. Nothing wrong with the transmission, but in the absence of any speech, it was the only thing to break the silence of the universe…the sound of the universe itself, the residual energy from its birth. However, all things had to come to an end and Kurze took it upon himself to do so.
"Interesting play Collins," said the Cerberus commander slowly. "Bringing in someone who'd strip me of your command, give you a modicum of power in accordance with standard colonial protocol, ensuring that the transmission was discreet…I'm impressed."
"This isn't over!" yelled Collins. "Duke outranks you, I'm magistrate of this colony and-…"
"True on both counts," interrupted the lieutenant colonel. "But both irrelevant."
"What?" asked Collins. So did Duke for that matter.
"You breached confidentiality and I'm well within my right to strip you of your position," said Kurze. "I say my right, because regardless of Duke's superior rank, Confederate High Command has given me full jurisdiction over this entire planet. And that includes Alpha Squadron."
"That's outrageous!" yelled Alpha's commander. "I outrank you! I'm older than you! I'm Edmund Duke of the Old Duke Family and-…"
"Are an asset, nothing more!" Kurze retorted. "An asset that CHC decided to send to help me because Echo Company has suffered over ninety percent casualties and dealing with alien invaders is a far cry away from patrolling the Sara System and hosting nosy reporters! And until that time comes, you will answer to me." He paused, partly to regain his bearings, partly for dramatic effect. Eventually, he spoke;
"Both of you."
The static returned. A static broken only by Collins signing off and Duke muttering various profanities under his breath, about how high command was composed of morons, how the Dauntless was an inferior ship to the Norad II, how Michael Liberty (whoever that was) and UNN had screwed up everything…Kurze sighed. The Duke Family were nuts. So were all of the Old Families for that matter.
"You done yet?" the Cerberus commander asked.
Duke sighed. "Alright Kurze, I'll play your game. Give me something to do I guess. What about Collins though?"
Kurze snorted. "He called for help that was already coming and revealed his breach of confidentiality over the radio with me on it. What else could that idiot do?"
"Alert the populace? Kick up a fuss?"
Kurze's visage darkened, glad that the colonel couldn't see it. He had an image to maintain, regardless of how deformed his face was. He didn't want Duke to see him worried…
"I have a feeling that keeping Chau Sara's population unaware of the xenomorphs may not be possible for much longer," he said darkly. "I think that's why high command sent you colonel. Things could get ugly and…well, we all know that's your area of expertise."
"Er…right," said Duke, seemingly unsure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. "What now though?"
"Now," said Kurze, bringing up a file from his desk, "I tell you what I think you need to know."
"What!? What you think I need to know!?"
The lieutenant colonel chuckled. "A capable commander (Kerrigan aside of course) and clown rolled into one package. CHC had made a great choice.
"Chain of command, Edmund," said Lieutenant Colonel Xavier Kurze. "You're the dog and I'm the one holding the chain around your neck. Get used to it."
2359 hours, November 10, 2499 (SCT)
Sara System, Chau Sara
Fort Keldathu (exterior)
Wilkes was tired.
"No rest for the wicked" was a phrase that she was familiar with and if there was any truth to it apart from general belief, one could have argued that Alpha Squadron was some kind of evil entity, or at least what remained of Echo Company. Alpha Squadron itself was fine, the reinforcements Duke had brought with him marching around the fort's perimeter and manning its walls, their movement only lacking a standard bearer. Not that banners had ever been used by soldiers in the Koprulu Sector, but still, the lieutenant wouldn't have found them out of place right now. All of the Squadrons had their own insignia after all.
Wilkes smiled bitterly as she leant against the fort's wall, armor cast aside as she kept her eyes closed. The ground was dirty, it was cold and all she had were black trousers and a t-shirt of the same color-underclothing for power armor rather than designed to protect its wearer against the elements. It would render her clothing more brown than black by the night's end, but even so, what was left of the company had taken to wearing black armbands over the last few days, commemorating the fallen. Fallen still lingering in the Lazaran Gullies, provided the xenomorphs had any respect for the dead.
Somehow, she doubted it.
"You look like you've seen better days," came a voice, one that the lieutenant was familiar with. More than she'd been a few weeks ago.
"I didn't give you permission to speak freely," she murmured, not moving from her position.
"Nor did Fisher give us permission to slack on the job."
"Fisher can go to hell."
Perry chuckled, taking a seat beside her. "My thoughts exactly."
Opening her left eye, Wilkes saw that Perry was in similar attire and in a similar physical condition, the only difference being that his armor was nowhere in sight. Probably academic, considering that what was left of Echo Company was entitled to get a tune up after the hell they'd been through, but Fisher would probably find some reason to draw blood. With most of his former officers dead or crippled, new ones had been assigned by Duke. Officers that Fisher couldn't fault yet and probably wouldn't be able to, considering that they'd come from Alpha's CO. For the foreseeable future, Perry would remain his prime target. Somehow, Wilkes envied him.
She knew why also. Fisher and Perry at their necks was a hallmark of the old days. Days where Wilkes and the rest of Alpha Squadron played the role of executioners rather than defending humanity from aliens. Simpler days, even if there was less moral integrity. But maybe that was worth losing, all things considered. They'd both changed in the process, becoming more like their counterpart…
Whatever. All she wanted to do now was sleep.
0008 hours, November 12, 2499 (SCT)
Sara System, Chau Sara
Fort Keldathu (current Office of the Colonial Magistrate)
Collins felt like…like…well, he wouldn't have admitted it, but he didn't know what he felt like. Apart from a desire for the scotch he was currently pouring himself at regular intervals over the last few days. That much was certain.
Admittedly his consumption of alcohol may have been part of the reason why he didn't know what he felt like, but if so, it wasn't the only reason. Fear, worry, resentment, anger…A wide range of emotions were coursing through his mind, the alcohol coursing through his body not making it any easier to deal with them.
"This is ridiculous," he murmured, pouring himself another glass of the devil's poison. "This is absolutely flicking ridiculous."
He could have used other adjectives to describe his situation, but despite having his 'office' all to himself, he was determined to maintain what was left of his dignity. Not that there was much to maintain, but if his fears were confirmed, he'd soon end up with none whatsoever.
Deciding that he'd had enough booze for one night (or morning, according to the clock); the magistrate lay on his bed, pondering his predicament. Breaching confidentiality, trying to get the better of Kurze by bringing in Duke, recklessly revealing his actions in front of the man of his distaste, the same man that still had authority over Chau Sara.
It doesn't matter, Collins thought to himself. I'm still magistrate of this colony. That has to count for something.
Given that his pager was beeping, registering an emergency frequency that conveyed issues to him ASAP so that he could prepare to deal with them as soon as possible, this issue prompting his face to change color faster than a set of traffic lights, that seemed to be the case…
0012 hours, November 12, 2499 (SCT)
Sara System, Chau Sara
Fort Keldathu (interior)
"So…you think it's over?"
…
"Captain? You listening?"
…
"Captain!"
"Huh?" asked Arlo, spinning around to his remaining companions, or at least spinning as his power armor let him. "What did you say?"
Lying against the walls of the fort's interior, his three remaining subordinates smiled at him. Faintly, of course, their training having taught them to keep control over their emotions, but having completed a harrowing mission and each with a can of Happy Jack's Ale in hand, the exception was understandable.
"I asked if you thought it was over," said Romesh, taking a sip of his alcoholic beverage. "You know, the war against the xenomorphs."
Arlo snorted. "War? That's a bit much isn't it private?"
"Maybe," put in Keyes. "But you never know…"
His subordinates went about debating as to whether the scientists/eggheads that they rescued from the Flannum Installation would be able to come up with some kind of viral superweapon to wipe them out and if said superweapon would also affect humans, causing them to rise from their graves. Or at least something out of a B-rated horror movie. Arlo had certainly seen a few back on Tarsonis. But still, given the current situation, war or not, this was hardly the time for making jokes. However, he decided to let it pass. They'd earnt that much.
What about Summers though? Asked a voice at the back of his mind. If he was here, you'd think differently, wouldn't you?
Sighing and leaning against the wall too, Arlo didn't deny that. Summers had been the focus of the bulk of his chastization for so long, that without him, he was having a tough time redirecting it. Getting torn to shreds by alien invaders tended to leave one with vacancies.
It wasn't exactly guilt that he was feeling over the loss of the corporal, not to mention Second Squad who would have lasted a few minutes at best after their dropship was shot down, provided they survived the landing. However, training stressed the virtue of looking back on his actions, pondering whether he could have done any better. Like guilt, but without the misery.
Then again, I probably wouldn't feel it anyway, Arlo thought, catching a can tossed to him by Milton. I trained myself even before the Confederacy got hold of me.
The CO knew that he was unique among his men in that the neural resocialization he'd undergone upon his introduction to Cerberus was driven by needs similar to the ones pertinant to the usual criminals conscripted into the Confederate Marine Corps, or on occasion, the squadrons. Neural resocialization had its advantages-willingness to follow orders, giving motivations for fighting… However, disadvantages existed-initial disorientation, vulnrabilities to stress and if a superior switched allegiance, his men would follow suit with little objection. Far from common, but if say, Colonel Duke chose to do something as rediculous as join the Sons of Korhal (like that would ever happen), then his men would follow suit.
Overall, despite all the boons of resocialization, it was generally agreed that volunteers made better soldiers, hence why the squadrons had a far lower percentage of resocs than other branches of the Confederate Armed Forces. True, in some cases they were high, such as Omega Squadron and its near fanatical "Death Heads", but with the likes of the Blood Hawks and Hellbringers, their professionalism was attributed to a lack of artificial memories, rather than an abundance of them. In the case of Cerberus however, given the confidential nature of its missions, all of its members underwent at least some resocialization, specifically loyalty to their commanders and subconscious mental conditioning that lessened the chances of them breaching confidentiality. In essence, the best that resoc could bring without any side effects. All in all, Cerberus had perhaps the highest percentage of volunteers of all the squadrons engaged in actual combat.
Yet I was made a captain. A captain who was a former criminal and ends up losing six men as a result.
Arlo took a deep sip of alcohol. He was lapsing into guilt. Yes, he lost six men two days ago. Yes, the entire security detail was lost. Yet all of the scientists were evacuated, and so what if he was a former serial killer? Did that make him an evil person? Perhaps, but despite all he'd seen and done, Arlo didn't believe in a fundamental distinction between what was moral and what was not. People did what they did, based on a variety of external and internal influences. And besides, if he hadn't committed acts of murder, he would have never ended up serving humanity.
So who was to say that murder was wrong, given the results?
Quite a few, all things considered. But with his past a haze due to the additional resocialization he underwent, and given that moral debate wasn't in his job description, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he did his job when the time came. Alpha Squadron had been reinforced and would probably take a central role, but that didn't mean Cerberus was down and out…
…and despite three days of R&R, Arlo doubted the xenomorphs were either.
0017 hours, November 12, 2499 (SCT)
Sara System, Chau Sara
Behemoth -class battlecruiser Dauntless
"I think that's all. Any questions, Edmund?"
Sitting in his command chair on his ship's bridge, Colonel Edmund Duke of Alpha Squadron outwardly gave the impression of control. Only a telepath would have been to realize that internally, while control was still maintained, the impression did not do reality justice. An effort was being made to keep control and although Duke had managed to keep it so far, the future was less definite.
Look at him, talking like he's the king of the universe. Calling me by my first name, Garth would be in a laughing fit by now. Oh I'd like to get my hands around his neck and-…
"Colonel?"
Duke blinked. "Yes, sir. I read you. Alpha Squadron is at your beck and call."
No-one else was on the bridge of the Dauntless, as per what amounted to a night shift. As such, the chuckle that Kurze gave echoed throughout the room, surrounding the colonel. He felt suffocated by it. He hated losing control and Kurze knew it.
"Beck and call…I like that," said the Cerberus commander. "I was right in my assessment that CHC made the right choice in sending you here-I need to keep my morale up after all."
Duke snorted by a disgruntled rhynadon. He doubted that anyone in Cerberus understood the concept.
"But anyway, we have time for fun and games later," Kurze continued, switching to formality effortlessly. "You're right in a sense that Alpha Squadron is at my disposal, but that doesn't mean you're out of the loop entirely."
"Oh?" Duke asked, his voice betraying his eagerness. Maybe he wasn't as removed from control as he thought.
Kurze nodded, his image on the vid-screen being replaced by a two-dimensional map of Chau Sara, lines of longitude and latitude cutting through it. The only other points of note were a few red dots, marking the few settlements on the planet. In its northern hemisphere, E157, N467, Los Andares being the focal hub. The rest of the planet however, was mostly uninhabited.
"Chau Sara is a small world as we both know," came Kurze's voice. "But it has a small population in a small area. And as such, we have little indication on the ground as to where the xenomorphs have established their base of operations and our-…"
"Base of operations!?" Duke snorted. "They're bugs! They don't even understand the concept!"
"Colonel, those bugs, as you call them, destroyed the Vigilance, decimated Echo Company, cost me half of Captain Shiff Arlo's team and overran the Flannum Installation," said Kurze testily, his voice laced with acid. "They're not dumb, they're not harmless and may I remind you that if you hadn't failed to recapture the Hyperion nearly a decade ago, we'd still have the larva samples the Sons of Korhal stole from Fujita and probably wouldn't be second guessing what the xenomorphs' actions are!"
Duke grimaced. He knew all too well…he should be a general by now, but oh no, Mengsk saw fit to screw him over…
"Anyway," said Kurze, his voice returning to normal, "Alpha Squadron is the best unit I have right now."
"What about Cerberus?"
Kurze ignored him. "Containment is our primary issue here, both in terms of logistics and communications. The Charon alone has the capacity to handle the latter, but in terms of the former, we don't have the capacity for a stakeout. As such, we need Alpha Squadron to find the xenomorphs' base of operations."
Duke nodded, prompted by Kurze's visage returning to the screen. "Alright L. C., I'll play your game. I have five companies at my disposal, all trained in rapid deployment. We should be able to find…Kurze? What you up to?"
If the Cerberus commander heard him, he gave no indication. Instead, he was looking at something off screen, presumably a laptop or something similar.
"Kurze?" Duke asked, getting impatient. "Damit boy, answer me! I agreed to a stakeout, the least you can do is-…"
"Colonel, prep your men," said Kurze hoarsely. "Their target is Los Andares."
Duke snorted. "Los Andares? Think the xenomorphs are in the sewers or something?"
"Probably. But they're also on the surface too…"
Duke fell silent.
"I just got a transmission from Collins," said Kurze, his gaze returning to Duke's, his organic eye conveying his concern. "Breach of confidentiality aside, it seems that he's still in contact with his old office in the capital."
"And?" Duke asked. "What did they tell him?"
Silence descended upon the bridge. Silence broken only by Duke's heavy breathing. He knew what was coming, and was ready to face it. And despite the weariness in his voice, Xavier Kurze was ready too.
"Los Andares is under attack. By the xenomorphs. They've begun open war."
A/N
It's strange, in a sense. Usually, I find battles the hardest things to write for. Yet in contrast, I found chapter 7 to be far easier to write for than this one.
Part of the issue to deal with is the time lapse. It doesn't help that in the game, the first three missions take place on the 8th (though the third mission could have easily extended to the 9th, which I did) and then we have the last two on the 12th. In a sense, that's four days of...nothing. And it makes little sense that the Cerberus commander tells the player character that the scientists have been taken to Chau Sara's main stronghold (which I created as Fort Keldathu), 3-4 days after the player character rescued them, with Collins suddenly barging in, letting everyone know that Los Andares is under attack. Oh, and Duke comes out of nowhere at that point too, leading the attack (yet a lieutenant is commanding him. Go figure).
(Probably worth pointing out that I chose to split the player character for this story, alternating between Fisher and Wilkes. Fisher for the rank and numbers, Wilkes for the persona).
As such, I had trouble with this chapter, wanting to spread it out over a few days, yet still keeping the "aftermath" feel of a harrowing fight against the zerg. Segmentation isn't really my thing however, though it did allow an opening to give my take on the nature of Cerberus, prompted by Nodikus' comments (thanks again). After all, for all I know, Cerberus Recon Squad is just that-a single squad, though I interpreted it as being akin to the rest of the Squadrons-specialized and while small, larger than what we see in the game. Suffice to say, a take on the nature of their neural resocialization was also appropriate.
One final note-I haven't completed chapter 9 yet at this time of writing as not only is it a 'battle chapter' (no prizes for guessing where) and the temperatures have been in the mid thirties over the last week. Sitting at a computer in such heat isn't that appealing. And as I start jury duty on the 27th, my time will become limited and as a result, gaps may appear between updates. However, this doesn't mean I won't continue writing-far from it. However, I'm afraid that it's likely that updates won't be as regular.
I think I've ranted enough now...