To all of the very few people waiting for an update, sorry it took so long, but law school just started back up again, which has complicated things, and sorry it's kinda short. To new readers, welcome and I hope you like it. My first fic, so brutal feedback is appreciated. Basically, this chapter sets up some of the plot. Next chapter, I'll return to the action, and maybe you'll get to meet Tosh and Zeratul, like it says up front.
Ozzy awoke suddenly, with a small gasp. A voice to his left said, "Hoo boy. That must have been a bad one."
"What?" Ozzy croaked, trying to sit up.
The person pushed him back down, saying, "Not a good idea, son. You're pretty screwed up. Just stay. And what I meant was that that must have been a bad nightmare. My brother used to get 'em, really bad. He had that same look on his face you had when you woke up, sometimes. But usually he sat bolt upright, screaming. You must have ice in your veins, boy," as he poured water into a sippy cup, which he handed to Ozzy.
"Who are you?" Ozzy asked, sipping the cold water.
"Alec Hackett. And you should probably call me 'sir.'"
"Why's that?"
"Because this is my ship. DNS Bishamonten, in drydock above Korhal. Got swarmed by corruptors while covering the Augustgrad evac. So we've got some down time. You, along with most of your surviving company, got transferred here when your brigade packed up after Fairstens was cleared."
"Bishamonten? That's a-"
"Battlecruiser, yeah. Like I said, you should call me 'sir.' Now, the dream. How bad was it?"
"Bad."
"Zerg?"
"Dunno. Don't remember much, just blood. A lot of it."
"Well, God knows we've seen enough of that shed. Between the Umojans and the Kel-Morians moving in, the Zerg, the Crown Prince, and that bastard Raynor, I'd be surprised if the Dominion survives. I'd be surprised if humanity survives in the sector, in fact. And that's assuming the Protoss don't come gunning for us for some goddamned unfathomable reason."
"How many of my company made it out? We had about eighty when that whole fracas started."
"Not many. About fifteen uninjured, and about 25 wounded made it out. At least twelve of those wounded won't make it."
"What about Baird, and my section?"
"Fine. Your man O'Neill's recovering well."
"What about the brigade? We were 2000."
"Already understrength. Well, I can't tell you for sure, since we didn't absorb all of the remnants, but probably no more than 200 uninjured, maybe that many wounded."
"Jesus," Ozzy said, his head dropping back to the small pillow.
"Weren't for nothing, though. About seven million civilians made it out through your evac point before it packed up."
Ozzy just stared at Hackett. "And how many died?"
"Maybe twice that. Fairstens got hit hard," he said, bluntly.
"There were civilians, in that building. Evac cutting corners, goddamn them."
"The one the ultra you killed destroyed? Baird briefed me," Hackett said, when Ozzy gave him a puzzled look at his recognition of more than the broad details of what had happened in Fairstens.
"Yeah. I just walked past them, even though I knew they were there. Why did I do that? Why? Baird had to restrain me from trying to get that Goliath pilot, and he was in the middle of a Zerg river."
"Captain Baird and your men were in that building. Did they try to save the civilians?"
"I don't know. Maybe, maybe not. There weren't any when I came out on the roof."
"Then they came to the same conclusion you did. There was nothing they could do. You, neither."
"But why didn't I try? That pilot was further gone."
"I guess that's up to you to decide."
"Just my luck."
"But think about this: you saved a lot of people, killing that ultra. Of course, it was ludicrously reckless and totally insane and I've half a mind to bring your captain up on charges for allowing it, but goddamn, it worked, even though it should never have, in any rational universe. But if even one ultra had gotten loose in the evac zone, hundreds of thousands could have died. You did a good thing, even if you are a completely batshit individual, of whom I'm more than a little frightened, honestly."
"And you captain one of the biggest ships in the sector."
"Yeah. Think about that, for just a second. That's how crazy you are, boy. Crazy enough that I might just recommend you for the Cross. Now go back to sleep. And you should really start calling me 'sir' when you wake up."
"Yes, sir," Ozzy said, and slowly drifted back off to sleep, lifting the sippy cup to his brow in a mockery of a salute, as Hackett left, after which he dropped it to the infirmary floor.
Ozzy felt something impact his forehead. He opened his eyes, and was forced to blink rapidly, as a small amount of water streamed into his eyes. "Wake up. We're moving out," Baird said.
"What? Already?"
"Yep. The Bear's back on his feet. Get your section, and meet me in the shuttle bay."
"Wait, where exactly are we deploying to?"
"Where else, dumbass? The surface of Korhal. We're taking it back."
"Oh, right. Because that's not insane."
"Not up to us."
"There are millions of Zerg down there by now."
"Yeah, and the evacuation's complete. Without us down there, they've got nothing to do but attack other core worlds. And did you really think we'd just leave the capital to them?"
"Seemed like the logical thing to do."
"After that stunt you pulled, do you really believe logic governs this universe?"
Ozzy considered for a moment, "Okay, fair point."
"And there's still a large Dominion presence down there. Without support, they'll be slaughtered, and I don't like the idea of leaving them."
"Leave no man behind? Really? That's like the oldest inspirational military shtick ever."
"Oldie but a goodie. And you aren't Jewish," Baird said, spinning on his heel.
"What?!" Ozzy shouted at his back
"Shtick. It's from Yiddish," he called over his shoulder. "You can probably find your men in the mess. Ten minutes."
After a few minutes of wandering, Ozzy found his way to the mess hall, where he did indeed find his section, shoveling unidentifiable food into their mouths, with apparent relish. They looked up, and all started trying to speak at once. Ozzy couldn't understand any of them, not with their mouths full. Ozzy cut through the babbling with, "Whatever you have to say, you can say it later. Baird needs us in the shuttle bay ASAP. We're redeploying."
"Where?" O'Neill asked, the first to force a giant ball of mush down his throat.
"Korhal. Reclaiming it." They all stared. "Yeah, that's what I said. Not up to us. And it's good to see you back on your feet, O'Neill."
"Heard I missed a lot, and that you're an absolutely crazy person."
"Don't tell me that's news to you," Ozzy said, turning to walk away
"Well, no. But I didn't know how deep it went. And I got left out. Little miffed about that."
"My heart bleeds. And you were missing half your leg."
"I suppose I was."
"Move!" Ozzy shouted, turning the corner into a corridor.
He arrived in the hangar a few seconds ahead of his men, finding what looked like about a full brigade, 4000 men, milling around an ungodly number of dropships, medevac and traditional. It took him a few seconds to find Baird, who was deep in conversation with a short, stocky man in a clean uniform and wearing the one star of a brigadier. "Captain Baird," Ozzy said, interrupting their conversation, "I was under the impression we had a job to do." Baird glared at him so viciously it seemed as though he was actually trying to kill Ozzy with the power of his hate alone. Ozzy was abruptly grateful Baird wasn't psionic.
"That we do, Sergeant Barnes," the general said, ignoring the interruption, and before Baird could murder Ozzy. "General Victor Sykes," extending his hand, which Ozzy shook.
"Good to meet you, general. I'd apologize for the interruption but-"
"But you've never apologized for anything in your entire life, have you?"
"Not to put to fine a point on it."
"I hear you're a crazy bastard. Is that true?"
"A fair assessment. But since the particular stunt you're thinking of worked, I prefer to think of it as a calculated risk."
"I'm sure. But I'm also willing to bet that you didn't appreciate just how insane it was until it was too late to turn back."
"Oh yeah."
"When did it hit?"
"Just after I jumped off the building."
"Sounds about right."
"So, this reinvasion seems a little thrown together. What's the deal?"
"Most of our forces are disembarking from the various ships we still have holding orbit, and most of those consolidating either onto battlecruisers, like this one, or Hercules assault ships. Small, surgical strikes will go in on dropships alone, but most d-ships won't hit atmosphere until the cruisers and Hercules have reentered."
"Strength?"
"About 220,000."
"You can't be serious."
"It's what we've got, plus a lot of Navy support. And we can't let them have Korhal."
"Why not? I was born on that piece of shit, and I don't want to go back there."
"Have you ever asked yourself why the Zerg are on Korhal?"
"For Mengsk, I'm sure. We all know Kerrigan wants his head."
"Nah, this isn't Kerrigan," he said, almost offhandedly denying the most prevalently held and basic assumption about the invasion.
"What?!" Baird, Ozzy, the rest of his section, and indeed anyone else within earshot cried. "Of course it's Kerrigan," Baird said.
"Sorry, Captain. Kerrigan hasn't been seen anywhere. According to our most recent intelligence, Kerrigan's on Aiur, trying to revive the Overmind. The Protoss are resisting," he said, having the undivided attention of most of the men in the hangar bay.
"What if we just missed seeing her?"
"The Queen of Blades, whatever she is now, is a media hound. Within hours of this war starting we knew she was involved. She's been waging a media campaign against Mengsk for months, not to mention Raynor's goddamned 'revolution.' That's why the Dominion's falling apart, and why the Umojans and Kel-Morians are so damned uppity. If Kerrigan were directing the Zerg attack, especially on Korhal, the seat of her hated enemy, we'd know."
"So who is it?"
"Hell if I know. Doesn't really matter. But still, why do you think they're on Korhal? It's got almost no value. Hell, it was rebuilt from a blasted ruin to satisfy the Emperor's ego. Demographic and industrial value, sure, but the pattern of Zerg attacks don't suggest they prioritize targets for those reasons. Military value, you could argue, but it's more that it was just so heavily fortified they'd would have done better just to avoid it. There's less well defended biomass out there. Which leaves what?"
"There's something else on Korhal the Zerg want," Hauser said, from Ozzy's elbow. "Something important. Conquest or extermination can't be the goal, not with their civil war."
"Exactly. No way they spare the resources. Something big, really big, must be on Korhal, if it's big enough for a Zerg faction, in the middle of a civil war, to invade the most heavily fortified human world in the sector. Something that big is worth keeping from them, I reckon."
"Fair enough," Ozzy said. "When are we leaving?"
"Right now."