Sadly, I grossly overestimated my ability to write fast enough to keep posting every day, so we're gonna be slowing down. Happily, I've managed to catch some kind of awesome cold/flu/death so I'm not doing much more than sitting around and writing anyway. On with the show!
Bucephalus
The green wire-frame holographic face of Dr. Narud stared dispassionately at his viewer. "Forgive my lack of formalities, but it took a great deal of effort and risk to my person to send this message." Listening in rapt attention, Valerian took a brief sip of his drink.
"Arcturus Mengsk has taken the plunge into madness, releasing these hybrid upon his own populace. He sees an enemy in everyone, and soon there will be no empire for him to rule: he will see it burned to ashes around him, as he said those many years ago." The hologram paused, glancing around nervously. "Now is the time to strike, Valerian! While there are still rebels left on the planet to help you."
"Easier said than done, doctor." The heir apparent muttered quietly.
"Should you find yourself ready to strike and looking for a safe landing on the planet's surface, you need only reconstruct the encryption code for this transmission and send it back. It is a one-time code that will deactivate planetary defenses long enough for you to establish a foothold." A clatter sounded in the background of the holo, and Narud jumped slightly.
"I must go. I hope that this information will help you, be safe and good luck." Narud's face disappeared as the transmission ended. It was the third-no-forth time Valerian watched.
The code had already been rebuilt and readied, and Valerian had to marvel at both the technical savvy and bravery of the good doctor. A completely safe point of entry to the planet's surface was beyond anything he could have asked or hoped for. But they still needed to affect repairs to the Hyperion on Deadman's Rock, and negotiate with Mira Han while hopefully concealing the true nature of Jim and his men from her. Knowing the mercenary, even vaguely, Valerian doubted it would be so easy.
"Incoming transmission." The Bucephalus adjutant droned.
Fine brows furrowing a degree, Valerian straightened up and placed his half-finished drink down. "Patch it through."
"Valerian." Matt Horner spoke immediately, voice crackling over the comm. "You'll want a secure line with Mira Han, I'm routing you one right now." He paused briefly. "And no, don't ask how."
"Perhaps you could humor me with the story later, Captain Horner." Valerian's mouth twitched in amusement, having already discerned some sort of strange relationship between Horner and Mira by how the captain acted whenever she or Deadman's Port was mentioned. "Regardless, thank you for that. We are in contact range right now—I will get a hold of Miss Han immediately."
"Right. Well, I'll leave you to that!" Horner disappeared faster than Valerian could even try to invite him to join the conversation. Such a shame.
The young prince looked wistfully at the tasteful display of weaponry in his quarters, wishing for time to practice. Shaking his head, he scooped up his drink and finished it off in a quick gulp- enjoying the rich taste and slow burn for a few moments before brushing his fingers over the console.
"Captain Vaughn."
"Yes sir?"
"Use the line we've been sent by the Hyperion to set up a transmission with Mira Han."
"Immediately." Vaughn's voice cut off and Valerian watched the console intently, waiting for a familiar face to appear.
When Mira Han's face appeared, relaxed and happy looking before quickly morphing into surprise, Valerian couldn't help but look surprised himself. Usually, Mira Han had an outgoing demeanor, but her smile and remaining eye were undoubtedly playful looking for just a moment.
"Princess? Where's Matthew?" Her voice sharpened in warning, and Valerian held a hand up in a placating gesture. Apparently that was how she looked for Matthew and he had caught her off guard.
"Hello Mira. Yes, Matt Horner gave me this channel to get into contact with you easier, and yes he is also alright."
"I would very much like to speak with him." Guarded.
"Matt Horner is on the Hyperion and not yet within transmission range; I am speaking to you from the Bucephalus, my ship. You will have the opportunity to speak with him at length however, should our conversation go the way I'm hoping." Valerian reassured her with confidence, although he now had misgivings about not just trying to contact her normally.
Finally, her shoulders relaxed a notch and she gave a small nod. That would do. "I am surprised you are here Princess, especially with Matthew and James. I assume you've seen the transmission from Korhal?" Her demeanor darkened, amplified by her cybernetic eye jutting from the puckered flesh of the former natural one.
Valerian nodded, grim. "The Hyperion needs repairs that require docking and materials we do not have on hand. I wanted to discuss safe passage and the acquisition of such parts that we require with you."
"Deadman's Rock is home to many, many refugees right now." Her tone had shifted to business, which was a relief—but also meant he was about to be parting with credits. "Food is scarce, credits to buy it even more so. As much as I love seeing Matthew, and I'm thankful you're delivering him to me, I will require payment."
"Name your price, Mira. We both know I don't have any other options if I've come out here, and that you're going to rip me off." Valerian smiled easy, and it was returned.
"I will have the numbers wired to you, Mr. V." Mira smirked, and the way she said the abbreviation of his name sounded more degrading than Princess ever could. "As I'm feeling generous, you will also be sent your landing coordinates- you will find them much more to your liking than last time, I am sure. Be prepared to talk with me once you and your people have landed."
"Always a pleasure, Miss Han." Mira's face winked out and Valerian allowed himself a small chuckle. There was a kind of brutal honesty about the rim worlds and the dark underbelly of humanity that he'd grown to appreciate. Short and to the point—the exact opposite of Dominion politics.
It was pure luck that Matt Horner was one of the more blessed-looking infested men, but Valerian held no illusions about keeping the physical state of Jim and his men quiet anymore; not if they were going to Korhal like that. And what about after Korhal, when no cure is found? Valerian poured himself another strong drink. I mustn't consider them doomed yet, it would be a disservice to them and the intelligence of all the men and women under my employ, after all. Licking a stray drop from his lip, he nodded to himself definitively. Yes. There will be redemption for them, in time.
Leviathan – Skygeirr Station
The one who sent the signal awaits you, my Queen. Izsha intoned.
Kerrigan strode through the living door briskly, coming to an abrupt halt when the clear shape of an infested man stood with his back to her, staring into space.
"We meet again, Kerrigan. Fate has us on the same side, this time." Alexei Stukov spoke, a distinctly amused note to his voice.
"Stukov. You died." Blinking, she approached with caution and took in the details as he slowly turned to face her. He was very clearly zerg, but he was also not connected to the swarm. As their gazes met, and his was a burning orange glow from the sockets remaining in his half-ravaged face, Kerrigan had to respect the strength she found there.
"I did die, only to be brought back and killed again many times over." And he thumbed over his shoulder with his one remaining human hand then. "In that station." Hand falling back to his side, he chuckled. "I couldn't think of anyone else out there who had the strength to face what lay within, and here you are now."
Kerrigan's mind was spinning. Stukov was not connected to the swarm and clearly retained his mind in the process, albeit stuck with his infested body. It immediately made her think of Jim and his men, and bore looking into when the time was right. "You said the hybrid are in there." She nodded at the station behind him. "It's a fortress."
"Not just a fortress, Queen of Blades." His voice gained a deeper inflection as they shifted to the matter at hand. "Beneath that mess of terran bases are several floors dedicated to the creation of hybrids, and even further below are fanatical protoss guarding the Xel'naga temple that this station's leader prizes."
"And who is this leader?" Eyes narrowing, she had a suspicion she already knew.
"Dr. Narud." She let out a small noise of annoyance then. "An ancient shapeshifter, hell-bent on resurrecting his dead master and bringing about the end times. He was very talkative." Alexei's tone darkened, the extra appendages on his shoulder trembling in anger. "I can help you destroy the terran bases, and would gladly face the horrors below to see this place burning. Will you lend your aid?"
"Yes. We'll tear this facility down." Kerrigan replied without pause, if Stukov wanted to help kill hybrid then he was more than welcome to prove himself. She really wanted to see what he was capable of, and was already planning on getting input from Abathur in regards to his unique properties.
"Then lets kill these Dominion bastards." Stukov grinned.
Even during the initial assault on the Dominion level of the platform, both Kerrigan and Stukov felt something was amiss. The base guarding the top was large, and though the defenders had put up a fight with their pathetic gas it seemed that there was a distinct lack of people. Only when the zerg and infested terrans spilled into the lower levels did it become clear: the hybrid, bar some half-grown failures, were gone.
"Stukov." Kerrigan snapped, glaring into the cavernous facility as she walked towards the lift that would deliver her to the Xel'naga temple below.
"Kerrigan, I don't know where they went." Stukov was upset, clearly. But before he could continue she cut him off sharply.
"How long ago did you escape?"
"Weeks ago, I have been trying to seek help for some time now." He muttered.
Where could the hybrid have been moved within weeks? She thought to herself pensively, stepping onto the lift with Stukov in tow. Hands clenched around and bent the metal of the guard rail as she came to her conclusion. "Our dear Emperor has brought the hybrid to his home."
And why wouldn't he? She chided herself. Informing Arcturus Mengsk, the biggest scheming slug in the galaxy, that the swarm was on its way through Matt Horner was one of her poorer choices. The lift passed below the floor of the man made facility and revealed the cavernous vistas that housed the Xel'naga temple and, unsurprisingly, a host of Tal'darim fanatics.
"So this Mengsk character knew you were coming," Stukov provided. "And now you have no choice but to confront him when he not only has his greatest weapons, but is fully prepared."
"Yes." Kerrigan confirmed resolutely, stepping off the platform and onto the gray rocky soil. "That will come in time. Right now?" Her wings spread wide, flexing and waving as if excited. "There's protoss to kill."
The fact that Stukov used infested terrans, while normally not a bother, was irking the Queen. Not once did the small spark of humanity inside her flare when killing the people of this facility, not even her terran self could feel compassion for them. Everything that went on inside the facility was abhorrent, not that the Queen of Blades had room for calling anything abhorrent; but not a one of the three races would be happy to see what was going on in there. This was practically humanitarian.
She had settled for simply sending the infested man to the west side of the temple to deal with the Tal'darim entrenched over there. Distancing herself helped. This budding duality, as she'd come to think of it, was maddening. I can't let control of the swarm slip, if my emotions are wild- so too is the swarm. Such is the price of obedience or oblivion, the hive-mind. Hopefully, that rekindled spark would take the hint.
When their forces rejoined at the massive gateway into the Xel'naga temple, the Tal'darim utterly destroyed, Stukov regarded Kerrigan somberly. "Narud is no longer here, but that does not mean this place is safe. I would tread carefully, Kerrigan."
Sarah was debating simply burying this place under the burning ruins of the station, but giving the temple a once-over before doing such would not be undue. She shifted in agitation and the long, chitinous segments that made up her ghoulish hair clattered together. As the massive slab that made up the door slowly rose up with a shuddering groan, she spoke. "I have been in some Xel'naga temples, I know what to watch out for. Remain here."
Striding into the massive temple without waiting for a response, Kerrigan immediately took in the surroundings and noted the differences between this particular temple and the others she had seen through the eyes of her minions and with her own. Wide open, pillars stretching to the ceiling above and with a massive crystal formation in the center, this one was decidedly unique. Can I save Jim? Could Stukov hold the key to reversing infestation inside himself?
Though she did mind her footing and remain aware of her surroundings as she approached the massive decorative-looking crystal, Kerrigan's thoughts carried her far away. Immediately, she became disgusted with herself. You'd throw Stukov into a lab just to find out without a second thought, just for Jim. Gritting her teeth, she came to a halt and felt outwards with other senses. Jim is the only one who ever believed you could come back from this. He is the only one deserving of our compassion.
Stukov deserves his freedom no less than Jim, his friends, even you. Compassion is irrelevant, you've become so detached from what made you a human that you don't understand what you'd lose to get your vengeance or even what you think is your redemption! She was about to launch into a full-blown argument with herself when she felt it. A shifting, slithering mass of darkness at the blades-edge of her senses.
It seemed that touching her mind to the darkness made it come alive, a force that simply could not be attacked. Every shadow came crashing down like a tidal wave and Kerrigan struck outwards with her blades the moment it entered range, but nothing happened. As fast as the darkness engulfed her, it disappeared. Staggering, Sarah looked around wildly and froze upon seeing the figure mere feet away.
Dr. Narud stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Hello, Kerrigan."
The wing blade that would have neatly sliced his head off his shoulders passed through without effect, and Kerrigan snarled. "Where are you, snake? You and I have a lot to catch up on, namely your death- it's long overdue."
But if Narud could hear what she said, he gave no indication. "I trust that if you're listening to this then you've discovered the hybrid are gone and have removed those pesky, fanatical pawns I left guarding the temple." He smiled then. "Why, when my benefactor informed me that the swarm was coming to Korhal and that it was time to bring forth the hybrid? Imagine my surprise."
Letting out a slow breath, Kerrigan stood listening as her anger simmered. "It is there on Korhal that you will find me, the hybrid and Arcturus Mengsk. We are waiting for you." The whole situation was a trap. Kerrigan resolved that since there was no choice in the matter, she'd come after Korhal with all the wrath of a scorned goddess.
"Oh... One more thing." The smile mutated into a grin, and it communicated the creatures madness all too well. "I do believe your friend, James Raynor, is on his way here as well. You'd best hurry." A psionic blast of energy tore through the ground where the ethereal messenger stood.
Kerrigan stood there panting in rage as the dust cleared, Narud was gone. I'm coming Jim.
Hyperion
I'm coming Jim.
Jim nearly dropped his cards, furrowing his brows at the intensity of the message. Beside him, Tychus grumbled sarcastically. "Hear that? She's comin', Jimmy boy." He received a sharp elbow to the ribs for his effort and grunted.
Standing up from the table stiffly, Jim folded and left. Paired together were Warfield and Horner, Swann and Jayce, leaving Tychus by himself. With a shrug, Tychus scooped Jim's moderate credit pile into his own. "Come to papa."
Korhal - Augustgrad
The rumble of five siege tanks moving across a park, grass or no, was deafening to Nova's ears. With the help of her suit she was perched atop the frontmost tank with her rifle at the ready, taking point. They had been moving painfully slowly, hiding beneath bridges and passing between large buildings, doing everything they could to not be spotted during the night.
Nova's was but one of several groups sneaking ordnance away from the Dominion, trying to reach the rally point where they could establish a physical base and be able to repel hybrid attacks. Problem was, as Tosh had eloquently put it, "Daddy Mengsk owns the sky and the land, we be fucked if we fight in the open." Given that Mengsk did own Augustgrad and the air above it, this was proving to be far too easy.
Nova had been adamant about establishing a real foothold, though. There was no way they could win with pure guerilla tactics and if they wanted heavy ordnance to fight hybrid and last, they needed that base. Tosh had argued for going straight for Mengsk together, cutting the head off the snake, but Nova also knew how much more security had been put in place since Tosh last tried that with his Spectre buddies- it was not an option.
And where is everyone? Billions of people lived in Augustgrad, never mind any settlements beyond it, and it both looked and felt like a graveyard. Given the threat of hybrid sucking her mind dry, she was wearing a psi-screen and expending a great deal of effort in keeping her psionic presence as low-key as possible, and it was keeping her from hearing the thoughts of people. As a result, and she thought about what Tosh said many years ago, it felt like a bucket was on her head.
People hide when their lives are in danger. She reassured herself as her convoy rolled down a narrow street, barely wide enough to avoid crushing street lights. Augustgrad's congestion problems were both a blessing and a curse. Communications were limited to short-range or verbal, Nova had no idea how the other teams were doing or if they were alive, but her convoy would be the last to arrive and they were almost there.
The distant roar of aircraft made her drop to a knee and rap the butt of her rifle against the tank sharply, indicating a halt. If it was in the air, it was not friendly. Their deafening clatter ground to a stop, the void filled with the low rumble of idling engines. Nova was the only defense these tank drivers had, there was just not enough fighting people to spare yet, and she resolved to avoid contact at all costs. It was a tense few minutes before the threat passed beyond hearing range, and they resumed.
Adjusting her balance as the tank crumpled a vehicle, Nova felt a wash of relief when their base-to-be came into sight. A field dedicated to public recreational activities with a statue of the Emperor holding his hands out in a benevolent gesture at its head was where they chose to set the base up. It no longer resembled the peaceful place for a stroll and a game of catch it had been the day before. The statue of Mengsk had been promptly toppled and torn up for barricade materials, and the mechanical feet of SCVs- along with their thrusters- had torn up the turf until it was a mud field.
Hopping off the tank, Nova turned off her psi-screen and let out a sigh at the bombardment of thoughts assailing her, it was reassuring. Immediately, she honed in on the formidable shape of Tosh, rifle at rest in his hands as he exchanged words with a foreman. Approaching slowly, she looked at the buildings and barricades already created and began taking a tally of vehicles that they should now have- if all the teams returned safely.
"Team three never came back. Heard their screams." Tosh turned away from the foreman, who walked away quickly- happy to be done with the interaction. Nova felt goosebumps on her arms, rubbing at her suit on the inside. That was the Goliath team. Indeed, there was not a single Goliath on guard. They were counting on them for anti-air, but there was already two missile turrets looming on the field- immobile air defense would have to do.
"I don't like this." He asserted, face stern as he looked towards the sky around them. "No way Daddy Mengsk don't know where we be now. Where's the cavalry?" Siege tanks were rolling past them, spreading out behind the barricades to give a full range of ground defense in siege mode.
Nova stood there with pursed lips, looking him over. Tosh had made contact with several mixed teams of ground troops that had defected and were hiding out, though at first she had insisted that she deal with them instead of him, he won out. He had delivered them safely and the suited up marines were digging trenches and helping erect more barricades while SCVs rapidly piled and welded everything together. Finally, she said "I don't know Tosh, but if they want to let us dig in they can be my guest."
In truth, beyond losing team three there had been no sightings of hybrid or air attacks for a solid day now. "Any eyes on where they might be?" She queried. Tosh did have Spectres left, and they were always operational.
"No." He frowned. With his ability to fully shield himself from others, Tosh used it to its full advantage in scouting. If he hadn't found a hint of where the hybrid or their puppets were hiding, it did not bode well.
"Chow up and get ready to go then." Nova snapped, striding towards their hastily erected barracks with purpose. She had wanted to kill all of them, but so far had yet to see a single hybrid since the one she fought individually. Watching holos of them being slowly killed under massive hails of gunfire and grenades was not enough.
Hyperion
Having left the impromptu card game, Tychus insisted on some R&R before whatever happened on Deadman's Rock happened, Jim stormed through the ship to the lab. He'd slipped through the door before it was half way opened and walked up to Shlassa, expression dire. Stetmann, oddly enough, was not present. Maybe he felt Raynor coming.
"I need to speak to Sarah." He said, staring up at the creature. Distantly, he thought about the absurdity of his relationship to the zerg now, given how hard he'd fought them.
Shlassa glared down at him, green eyes baleful. "We are too far away. We can only hear."
"That's not good enough!" Jim snapped, bristling literally and figuratively. Jabbing a clawed finger at her, he snarled. "Your Queen is flying the swarm right into a trap that is going to get her and everyone else on that damn planet killed! So start thinking up a way to get in touch!" Shlassa simply stared at him, silent. He had his answer, and he wasn't getting a word more. After a few more seconds of tense waiting, Jim spun around and left.
Jim. Stetmann tentatively called from wherever he was.
Raynor paused in the hall outside the lab, scowling. Taking a moment to school himself into a more reasonable mental state, he replied. Kind of busy, Stetmann. Can this wait?
I'm sorry sir, but I overheard your conversation with Shlassa. Apologetic, Stetmann continued before Jim could head him off. I think I might be able to help contact Kerrigan.
Now that perked Jim's interest, what did Stetmann think he had that an actual broodmother didn't, in regards to contacting Sarah? You can stop hiding, Egon. Not going to eat you or somethin'. He'd much prefer to have this conversation verbally, still strongly disliking this whole alien mind link business.
"Sorry sir." Immediately, Egon popped up from around a corner. Apparently hiding had been the operative word. "Would you like to discuss this in a more private setting?" The young scientist looked about nervously, as if someone was just waiting to overhear and judge them.
"Stetmann, if you can get me in touch with Kerrigan, there's no time to waste trying to be sneaky. It's not like we're hiding somethin' here." Jim smirked. But really, his insides were clenching, impatience rising.
"I-ah suppose you're right, sir." Stetmann stood nearby, fidgeting with his pockets and looking around nervously. "I think- I think we're stronger than Shlassa now, sir. She might not be able to contact Kerrigan, but I propose that we can." He held his breath, watching Jim's reaction.
Spiny brows furrowing, Jim crossed his arms. "How do you figure? I know we're not your average infested, but I don't think Sarah would want for us to get that strong, would she?"
"With all the, ah, material we have at our fingertips now, sir; I have been doing as much research as I can fit into a day and what I've found has lead me to the conclusion that the Queen of Blades may have created us to be second only to herself, in time." Warming to the topic, Stetmann took a deep breath and continued. "Perhaps it is hubris on her part, but I don't honestly believe Kerrigan perceives us as a threat, not even all together." Tilting his head slightly, Stetmann perked his brows and nodded to himself. "Yes. Given the kind of power she seemed to be sporting the last time we, ah, spoke with her, I can't fault her confidence."
Blowing out a slow breath, Jim frowned. "Alright Stetmann. Say you're right about this, what does that mean for us?"
"Well," raising his hand up, index finger extended, Stetmann punctuated his words with an energetic thrust. "We would be able to control all other zerg, excluding Kerrigan, and the range for that could possibly extend across worlds. You know how Kerrigan controls every movement of every member of the swarm, everywhere? Possibly no less strong, in time." Egon's voice lowered, excited. "I've found my personal ability to be continually farther reaching. I can touch minds so far away now, Jim. It is incredible."
Raynor held his hand up, ready to bring the scientists ramblings to a halt- even if they were interesting. He had a deadline and dancing around the topic of contacting Kerrigan wasn't helping. "Okay, you can school me more on this later. What I want right now, Egon, is to contact Sarah. Can you help me do that?" It was worrying, to think about the kind of power they were possibly being handed. Horner, Warfield, Swann, those three wouldn't think twice about dropping it, including Jim himself... But Stetmann and Tychus, he wasn't so sure.
Hands going right back into his pockets, Stetmann nodded. "Lets go back into the lab at least, sir." Gesturing with his head, Stetmann didn't wait for an answer and walked right back into the creep covered lab.
Eyeing the creep with a disgusted look, Jim followed reluctantly. Were it not for the fact they were zerg themselves these days, he'd worry that the fleshy mass under his feet was affecting Stetmann. Maybe it still was. Ignoring Shlassa, he looked over the purple that carpeted the floor thoughtfully. From memory, he recalled it used to smell like rotting flesh and any number of other sordid scents all blended into a disgusting potpourri. Now? Hesitantly, he took a breath through his nose. Like candy, palatable.
Lip curling, he came to a halt in front of Stetmann and nodded. "Lets do this."
"Okay." Stetmann swallowed nervously, focusing on Jim. "Not really sure how to go about this, so just bear with me." He quickly realized Jim's gaze was unnerving so focused on a point beside his head instead. As he had practiced, he half closed his eyes and felt out with his mind.
Jim's eyes narrowed. He could feel that Stetmann was doing something, but it was altogether different than the way they were communicating to one another across the ship. Curious, he waited.
It felt like he was stretching his brain, Egon couldn't think of a better way to describe it. Taking over an infested was like filling a cup, becoming Swann was like leaping out of his skin and into a new suit, communicating with the men on the ship was like connecting wires on a switchboard. Every zerg related action had a unique feel to it, and this was no different. He had tried to find the limit of how far he could stretch his brain out before, and it had left him trembling and weak from the effort, but he understood the direness of the situation and resolved to help Jim.
Stetmann was staring into nothing, and the weird layers of eyes that he now sported seemed to be peeling back of their own accord as his concentration went elsewhere. Jim was unnerved further as the seconds ticked by, beads of sweat beginning to form and trickle down Stetmann's temples; he considered intervening when he could see twitching fingers and trembling limbs.
The limit was rapidly approaching and he clenched his teeth hard, trying to fight for that last extra stretch. He was no longer Stetmann. He had become every zerg lurking in the dark beyond that he could reach, and there were so many. In that last heave he formed the name of his desired target and, using all the zerg he'd managed to link to, let out a tremendous shout through each and every one. KERRIGAN!
Cards went flying out of hands, credit chips clattered to the floor and Jim was literally knocked on his ass. So close and lacking precision, it was like a sonic boom in the ears of all the infested. Even Shlassa made a distressed clatter.
Aboard her Leviathan, the Queen of Blades perked and tilted her head, listening.