You have waited very patiently/impatiently for this next chapter. Well here it is, this fic ain't dead! Life turned into a tornado, to put it lightly, so I am not going to even try to promise when the next chapter will be coming- but it WILL come out.
*edit* oopsy, consider that pesky plot hole plugged!
Hyperion – Deep Space
Absolutely not, Matt Horner.
What Matt was hearing was not possible. Finding Lasarra had been more difficult than expected to begin with and in retrospect, he should have suspected the conversation was not going to go the way he wanted; the protoss had a knack for showing up at the right time and place when they were needed, Lasarra not approaching him about the problem should have been the first tell. As it was, his insides twisted with a potpourri of emotions and anger was rising to the top rapidly. "You can't just-"
Lasarra, standing in the doorway of her chosen room in the med bay, narrowed her glowing eyes as she cut Matt off quickly. Your mind is compromised, Matt Horner. I promised to help you and the other infested seek your cure, I will not let you die if I have the power to stop it. It was saddening to both watch and feel the confusion and upset of Matt Horner. Others died while I made my decision to let you loose before, I will not hesitate again.
Thankful for the privacy of the med bay, there were no medics loitering around, Matt hissed venomously. "You can't just hold us hostage like that! What kind of help do you think that is?" Lasarra stood unmoved.
The mercenaries would have killed you and everyone in the bridge. She read their minds, it was a fact and not a guess.
"Then I, as a grown ass man, would have chosen to die! That is a choice that I should have, and you are taking it from me." With the protoss staring down at him so silently, Matt felt distinctly childish; Lasarra needed to understand though, he was done with aliens jerking him around like a puppet or an animal on a leash—she had to be able to know how he felt about this.
Following his surface thoughts easily, Lasarra chided him. You are young, all terrans are. The value of life escapes you. She paused, a pang of heartsickness for her lost brother worming to the surface. It is most precious, not to be thrown away.
Sucking in a deep breath, Matt was about to unleash verbal hell—for all the good it would do, when the comm system crackled to life and Raynor's voice warily called out. "Saddle up boys and girls, we're almost there. ETA 2 hours."
Scowling bitterly, Horner exchanged a look with Lasarra and turned to storm off. Your mind will be your own again in time, Matt Horner. Have faith. Her voice tinkled reassuringly in his mind, he hated it.
Cowboy, meathead, General, get to the armory. Kid and I got some hardware for ya before we get down there. Rory's voice interrupted Matt's seething and he tuned the chief engineer and all the other infested out rather forcefully as he stormed to the bridge.
Some solace could be taken in his duties.
Armory
Raynor was making his way to the armory, bound to be the last one there, when he registered the pleasantly surprised responses of both Tychus and Warfield. Not wanting to spoil a good surprise for himself, rarely were surprises actually good, he made sure to not think too hard on it—lest something slip. Lighting a cigarette as he walked, he looked at his clawed hands and their dark, gnarled flesh, trying to summon up the memory of what the real Jim Raynor's hands looked like; to his alarm, it was getting harder to remember.
Brother, you are gonna enjoy this. Tychus teased.
Don't tell me Tychus, I'll be there soon. Wanna see it for myself. Jim warned, already aware Tychus was not telling—he would have blurted it immediately if he wanted him to know.
Despite the looming uncertainty of the near future, a tingle of excitement ran through his skin as he stood next to the armory door, pausing a moment to savor it before tapping the identification pad and opening it; what was inside couldn't be real, too good to be true.
"Heh. What're you lookin' at, cowboy?" The real Swann, mechanical arm and all, was standing over a terminal and looking at him with a sly smile half hidden under his facial hair.
"Swann?" As if in a dream, Raynor slowly walked in and pried his eyes from the engineer to the other familiar figures positioned around the armory. Tychus, in a fresh Spectre suit and checking over his gauss rifle, was grinning wickedly around a cigar and distinctly lacking alien features.
Warfield looked up from the open container he was sifting through, normal human hands half done strapping on a heavy vest. It wasn't real though, Raynor's brows furrowed slightly as his hopeful thoughts rerouted back to reality; they were all still connected, still zerg. This was an illusion, albeit a damned good one.
"Yeah." Rory shrugged, mechanical arm flickering as it collided with the console in front of him—not agreeing with the thick-fingered hand that was actually there. "It isn't real, the kid and nerds from the Bucephalus cooked it up. Gonna help a lot down there on Korhal, we figure." With his right hand he pulled a fistful of small, flat disk-shaped diodes from a pocket and held them out for Jim's inspection.
Nodding grimly, Jim held his hand out and caught the small parts as Rory poured them in to his palm.
"Sure is nice to look like my old self though." Tychus remarked, rubbing his thumb against the phantom stubble on his chin with a smirk; he never did get to see more than a glance of his real body after being ripped out of that damned suit.
"You ain't much prettier either way, Tychus." Jim chuckled.
"Each of these diodes has a profile uploaded to it—an image of your original body gathered from various sources." The short man chuckled, "was pretty easy to make yours, what with your face plastered across the entire sector." Plucking one tiny disk from Jim's hand, Swann held it up for closer inspection. "We're gonna fit these all over you and they will cover your current appearance up. Not sure how well it's gonna work for you though, cowboy." Swann shrugged and held up his false mechanical arm. "Having enough trouble adjusting for this, don't know what errors a bunch of spikes stickin' out is gonna generate."
"Well if anyone can figure it out it's you and Egon, Swann." Jim gave a weak smile and rolled a little disk between his fingers, voice lowering as he eyed it. "Time to get this done boys."
"Zippers in the front, ladies!" Tychus boomed, grinning and all too eager to get out of the ship again.
"We'll be hooking up with a few teams from the Bucephalus once we land, Raynor." Warfield spoke in a placid tone, intent on his gear inspection and thinking deeply on what he knew was waiting on the planet surface, but also what he didn't.
"Egon is in the back Jim, go get him to give you a hand with those things." Swann waved him off and returned to his console before he had even finished his sentence, leaving Jim smirking. Glorious leader indeed.
Those who have seen the other infested men are greatly eased by their more... Natural appearance. Lasarra's voice spoke smoothly into Raynor's mind. This should help your mission on the terran home world greatly. She sounded pleased, but he could not bring himself to feel more than cautiously reserved on the matter, now that the high of seeing his friends restored had faded.
Being acutely in-tune with minds and emotions, Lasarra naturally caught on to Jim's reservation and followed through with questioning. You do not believe this is a wise course of action, why?
The 20 questions was annoying, but the idea of deception and betrayal were such foreign concepts to the alien race that he tolerated it with ease. His feet were leading him to Stetmann and there wasn't much else to do but dwell on uncertainties anyways. Junior has done a good job sticking to the plan so far Lasarra, but that don't mean he can't change his mind. I believe we're putting ourselves in a bad spot not being honest with folks right off the bat.
Rather than words, Jim visualized what could happen. People would not respond well to their careful disguises being turned off by Valerian, it would be as easy as taking out the trash for him. Lasarra balked at the thought of such deception, the kind of horror and violence that would immediately come down on the people who essentially saved them. In a moment of rashness, she considered how monstrous the terrans could truly be.
Shrugging his shoulders as he turned a corner and came face to face with Stetmann, Raynor figured it would be best to let the conversation go before things got confusing. Most people are good, but the people in charge often ain't there for anyone but themselves.
"Ready to pretty me up, Stetmann?" Jim queried, watching Egon jump slightly and spin around to face him with a smile. It was coming to his realization that perhaps the kid was more excitable than some scared rabbit—he knew full well Jim was coming.
"Yes, of course! This will prove to be challenging, I think." Stetmann quickly scooped the handful of diodes out of Jim's hand and without any ceremony, began to stick them to points on his body. "Disguising what is there is the easy part; it's when you start bumping into things and have to fit in spaces smaller than the space you take up that it becomes much more difficult."
"I read you." Raynor quirked a brow when a little trail of smoke hissed up from around one of the diodes that touched his skin. "Did that thing just melt on?"
"Ah- Wellll..." Stetmann paused, looking guilty. "We had to upgrade the adhesive considerably to deal with zerg skin... Let's just say it wouldn't be very good to put it on a human."
"Wonderful." Jim muttered.
"I know you are concerned about Valerian having control over these devices—so was I." Egon ventured cautiously as he fixed a diode to Raynor's torn vest, eyeing his leaders expression as he continued. Jim looked like he just ate something especially sour. "Anything Valerian wants to do to these remotely has to go through us first, we're in full control of them."
"That is actually a relief." Jim visibly relaxed, letting the issue drop instantly. If he didn't have to worry about it he wouldn't, even though having his mind read all the time was irksome.
Bridge
"Captain, we have arrived just outside the Korhal orbital defense network." The adjutant droned at Horner, who glared dispassionately at the industrialized planet filling the view port.
"Contact Valerian." Jim, looking for all the world like he'd never been touched by zerg infestation in his life, rested his hands on the edge of the star map. The Hyperion and Bucephalus were resting side by side, tiny dots in comparison to the industrial terran home world. Tychus and Warfield were also present, but silent.
"Transmission secured."
Valerian's voice filled the room, void of his face appearing on any screens for a change. "Jim. It's time to finish this, are you and your men ready?"
"Any contact from the locals?" Raynor pressed, it was still a hope that they weren't too late to gather the rebels.
"None, but there is significant comm interference going on, Augustgrad is a communication void. Our ships should be able to pierce through, but only when we have made our descent. " Valerian supplied smoothly.
"Then let's go say hi, just be ready for Senior and the hybrid to say hello back."
"I will leave this transmission open for ease of communication." The heir apparent fell silent and the dynamic of the bridge immediately shifted as Horner asserted control.
"Take 'er down Matt." Jim nodded and stood back, watching as his dour captain barked orders and began directing the giant ship forwards. Timing was key and they were relying on Valerian to input the code that would shut down the drakken defense network long enough for them to pass below its deadly range. Assuming that the key worked at all made Jim's guts clench in distaste, but Valerian was wagering his own life on it as well.
"Input the code now Valerian, we're almost in range." Horner barked as the adjutant warned.
"It is done Captain Horner, see you on the ground."
Tychus muttered in the tense moment following the two battlecruisers flying into the kill zone to no ill effect. "Just don't feel right, walkin' in without a fight."
"Incoming transmission." The big con looked decidedly guilty when several glares cut his way.
"You have made a mistake coming here." A hollow voice snaked through the bridge, raising some eyebrows in turn. "Welcome to the end."
"Don't know who you are, but I suggest not getting in our way." Jim said simply.
"Alpha Squadron." The voice murmured in a feverish tone, "Kill them."
The Hyperion and Bucephalus were cutting through the atmosphere and approaching Augustgrad at a fast pace; if Alpha Squad wanted to get chopped to pieces in the crossfire of two absurdly powerful battlecruisers, they were welcome. There would be no point trying to turn that crew over to Valerian's side, Duke could have been considered the smartest of the lot when he lead them.
As the comm closed, Raynor glanced at the others and smiled. "Anyone else think he was a wierdo?"
"Didn't sound like any man I ever heard before." Warfield said, frowning.
Tychus shrugged, "Gonna go get ready- don't get us blown up." He took his leave hastily, leaving Jim frowning.
"You were already ready." Jim said to no one in particular as the door snapped shut.
"Alpha Squadron will intercept us before we reach our landing zones, Jim." Valerian's voice crackled as he opened the microphone to speak. "Sensors are tracking them en route from the Sky Shield platform right now."
"Well hang tight junior, we gotta land one way or another within our time frame or Creepy and his boys might just get what they want." Jim spoke calmly, firefights and tight deadlines were par for the course.
The bridge shook gently as the first wave of Dukes attack force peppered the body of the Hyperion and everyone braced themselves. "Return fire and continue." Still seething, Horner's voice cracked like a whip.
Augustgrad - Rebel Base
The situation in Augustgrad had shifted from a seeming graveyard to an apocalyptic nightmare in the span of a few hours, Nova reflected. There had been no time to rest after running full bore back to the base, it was already under attack and would have been quickly overwhelmed in the confusion had it not been for her timely intervention. The loyalty of the rebels could be considered solidified as a result, however.
Black eyed civilians, smiling and laughing, had emerged from the fog and claimed several lives immediately when marines rushed forwards to bring them to the safety of the base. One such infected civilian was now locked in a containment cell and staring at Nova, smiling blankly. Scattered gunfire popped and cracked through the thick walls of the primary headquarters, none of the infected were suffered to live getting within range now.
"What do you think it is?" Daren, the highest ranking official to turn to the rebel cause, questioned. He had an honest mind, Nova took a quick liking to him in a professional manner.
"Hybrid work, no doubt." Voice crackling through her mask, Nova spoke crisply. Her doubts would not be aired, only what she knew for certain. "What I don't know is, how to reverse it. A trip to the local labs might help me get information we need, but we don't have the facilities or the man power to use it yet."
"Yet?" Grumbling, Daren rubbed his covered arms quickly. The infected gave him the heeby jeebies, and rightly so. "The men don't think we're making it out of this alive, and I don't have anything to counter that line of thought at the moment." Morale is important, that and the safety of his men, they were his topmost thoughts.
"There are agents abroad who are working continually to find a solution to the hybrid and this new dilemma, I assure you." Nova replied in a calm, professional tone. "You tell your men whatever you have to, just keep them firing their guns at the enemy and let me handle it." A ripple of energy surrounded her as she focused, teasing the fabric of reality around her body until Daren took an uneasy step backwards; a sickening crunch heard through the thick glass sent the infected civilian to the floor in a crumpled heap, blood pooling sluggishly out of erupted eyes and ears.
You cannot stop this, November Terra. A whisper, dead and cold, teased in her mind.
The corpse stood back up and smiled.
Fear of the unknown trumped his fear of Novas terrible psionic abilities, Daren withdrew from the room quickly.
A short time later, after a few more frustrating attempts to kill the creature with her mind, Nova emerged from the command center with a headache and took stock of the defenses. When a marine had lifted his visor in the fog and transformed shortly after the first attack, killing a few of his own before being turned into bloody confetti, an atmosphere dome was quickly erected and shoved the fog out of the base perimeter by force.
No walking into the fog without full coverage. No front line defending without full coverage. Any instance where an infected human or mysterious fog could be, involved full coverage.
The atmosphere dome was powered by a generator, hidden in a hastily erected shack, that hummed without issue when Nova gave it a brief inspection; the few SCV pilots they had would know a lot more about fixing it properly if something was wrong, but she always liked to be on top of things. Aside from the advantage of not being infected and turned into a psychopathic zombie murderer, the dome also provided pure vision of anyone or anything stepping inside the perimeter with its ethereal blue glow.
Ammo was an issue now that they were almost continually firing in a 360 degree radius around the entire base, though a few perdition turrets at key areas were helping; aiming for the head or complete disintegration with explosives were quickly becoming the way to kill of choice. Grimly, Nova thought over the idea of escape.
The troops are more right than I care to admit, she thought. Quickly she identified the most fatigued men on the front lines and chose one she would replace, giving his blue armored suit a quick tap with her hand. "Take a break, I got this." Even saving ourselves might not be possible now.
If he responded she missed it, honing in on fast moving targets in the distance with her scanner as soon as the bulk of the suit was out of her way. Soon psi charged and teeked bullets flew to kill; former allies, or at least innocent civilians, shredded with impartiality.
A pressure was building in Nova's head, accompanied by a white noise in her ears. Squinting in discomfort at the sensation, there seemed to be a marked increase in radar activity being reported on all sides of the base. Is it really a sickness? A cloud of red bloomed where a former civilian's head was as another bullet flew true. Tosh said the hybrid are psychic vampires, and the only thing we've ever known to come back from the dead were cerebrates.
"Massive attack wave incoming!" A frantic voice chirped through the short range comm. It was barely audible over the white noise, high pitched ringing and pain in her head. Are the hybrid using their psi to puppet bodies? Who does that voice belong to?
Silhouettes were appearing in the fog, just outside the gentle blue glow of their man-made atmosphere. Why am I not affected?
Her fellow rebels were fidgeting, their fear palpable as they waited for the gathering masses to step into weapon range and sight. "Easy boys." Nova murmured, struggling to concentrate. Something was about to happen, invisible insects crawled through her skin and goosebumped the pale flesh. Has the situation gone too far to repair? Are we the walking dead ourselves?
On a private channel, the same high-strung busybody overseeing all radar and comm activity through their command center squawked into her ear. "Nova, the sensor tower shows so many all around us... We are about to be overwhelmed; so if you have some kind of ace up your sleeve, now is the time." Click. Guy is probably sitting there with a pistol in hand, she thought.
Frantic ideas flitted through Nova's mind as the motion trackers of the suit went haywire, lending credence to the urgency of the message. At the outer edge of the gentle blue glowing wall, shapes formed in the mist. Hundreds.
"Hold the line." Nova spoke calmly through her mask, not registering the fear and outrage of her peers as she spun to her feet and ran towards the approximate middle of the base.
"Nova, come back!" Daren shouted, fully aware of what the consequences of Nova abandoning the fight would be. Still, he did not move from his position as ordered- if he fled too, the men's resolve would crumble.
Long legs, strong themselves and further augmented by the Ghost suit, carried her to the center of the base in record time. Tearing her helmet off and roughly tossing it down, Nova gazed up at the sky before closing her eyes for what may be the last time. I owe it to them. I could have stopped this long ago.
Gathering her mental strength, she visualized the intended effect and as a living, breathing wall of nightmare began to pour past the atmosphere and bullets began to fly, she let go.
So much for fighting for freedom, Daren thought sarcastically as he steadily poured bullets into former citizens. They were frighteningly fast and well beyond his natural reflexes to track and shoot properly- that's what the CMC was for, thankfully. Even more thankful was he for the fact that his men were more loyal to him than Nova, a fact made clear by them not dropping their guns and running when the famous Ghost did. At least he'd die with a measure of pride.
There were more bodies coming at them from all sides than there were bullets to put them down, every man and woman knew it. They were getting closer, and through the comm Daren heard the line breaking on the other side of the base- the attack had begun less than two minutes ago and they were already crumpling.
Looking into the glassy black eyes of a smiling child, Daren clenched his teeth and opened the comm in order to announce a fallback to the command center, for what little good it would do. "Men!" Before he could belt out the rest of the sentence, the ground rocked with an explosion- but there was no sound.
Knocked forwards even in his CMC, Daren struggled to keep his feet and understand what was happening. Before he had righted himself, a second blast came with all the sound and light of a nuclear explosion- his suit working overtime attempting to dampen the sensory overload and preserve both his sight and hearing. For a moment, he was rendered as helpless as an infant- blind, deaf and crying out.
His hearing came back first, punctuated by a high pitch ringing. Others were expressing wonder over the comms and he blinked hard, desperate to see what was going on and respond appropriately. The first thing he understood was that the battlefield had fallen silent but for the voices of his men and when his vision came back, blurred but solidifying rapidly, he saw the frozen bodies of the enemy.
The air was rippling with shimmering blue psionic energy, grappling the entire invading force in an unbreakable hold- the fog had hidden their numbers beyond what they could have imagined. Their fellow terrans had become as alien and terrible as the zerg, a numberless and unstoppable enemy.
Nova, Daren thought, struck with a resounding chord of hope. Raising his trusty gauss rifle, he took aim and fired a leisurely shot into the head of a nearby infected citizen, watching it disappear with a grim satisfaction.
Without any further hesitation, he opened the comm once more and roared, "Nova has given us a chance to even the odds but we don't know how long it's gonna last boys- make it count! FIRE!"
As one, the rebel base echoed with rapid gunfire and renewed explosions. At the center of the base, Nova stood rooted, battling internally over the forces being wielded.
So focused on mowing down every being standing between himself and the shimmering atmosphere dome, Daren dared not look around at his fellow men- not until one roughly jostled the shoulder of his suit with a metallic clack. "Sarge, beside you!"
Snapping his head to the left, Daren's insides were chilled instantly. One of his men, Charlie, was frozen stiff- grappling with a woman who had smashed through his visor and yanked the hapless man close to her face. From the bloodied mouth of the woman was a smokey trail that linked her and Charlie together- his eyes were wide in horror.
How can you fight that? Daren thought, fighting a lip quiver as he raised his gun and shot Charlie square in the face, immediately following suit with the woman.
"Sarge!" One of the men, he didn't know who, shouted incredulously as he ended the life of one of his own.
"He was frozen with her," Daren replied somberly. It only meant one thing: Charlie was infected, just like the rest. Looking away from the mess, he settled back into position to continue shooting.
A man, face frozen in a wicked snarl, seemed to quiver in place. Whatever Nova was doing, it was not going to last much longer. "Hurry!" Daren blurted, not remembering to open his comm to announce the message.
Inside the command center, Monty stood gaping open-mouthed at the scene below his comm tower. Jerked back to reality by the shout of Sargent Daren over the comm and the return of gunfire, he swallowed hard and sheepishly holstered his small pistol, sitting sat back down in his chair.
There was a ringing in his ears and one hell of a headache blooming in his brain, but he stared at the radar and various other sensor equipment in rapt attention. Staring hard at the little red dots that signified enemies- the lights were being snuffed out en masse, but there was yet more.
A bead of sweat tickled the side of his face as, in rising terror, he realized the dots were beginning to move again.
Steeling his resolve, Monty held down a button and announced to each man and woman what they were already seeing. "They are starting to move again." His cheeks reddened at some of the choice words flung at him, thankful that those less-than-civilized men and women were not in the same room as him. How did I even end up here? Oh, right. Charlie, my stupid brother.
Despite his brother's rebellious nature, he had agreed with the cause regardless- something had to be done about Mengsk. Turned out rebelling sucks.
As soon as the first infected erupted into full speed movement, frantic cries of pain and howls of anger punctuating more intimate battles followed shortly after. Monty heard it all, fingertips trembling when cries turned to death shrieks and he had to sever the CMC comm to keep the chaos to a minimum.
A few times, worse than the sound of death, was when something else happened and he heard the whispered promises. All will join us. Even you, Monty.
The outer perimeter of the base was covered in corpses, some in ever-rising heaps, but the red dots kept coming. The pistol felt heavy in its holster. Do it, Monty. A voice gurgled through the comm before he slammed the button to cut it off.
But it wouldn't stop. Men, women, children, a chorus of their voices began to whisper and sing through the comms, like some kind of crazed band. Helpless, Monty leaned back in his chair and stared at the blinking equipment in fear. The radar was turning red. Everyone was gone. It was only him left.
Monty. An all-too-familiar voice rasped.
"No." A tear slid down his cheek, his voice broken.
"It's not so bad." Charlie's voice, no longer ethereal and very much solid, spoke to Monty's right.
Yelping, Monty flew out of his chair as though it was on fire, darting towards the thick glass and throwing his back against it, turning to face Charlie. His brother was leaning on his chair, fingers folded together and a calm look about him- but for every similarity there was to his brother, there was a dozen more that screamed this isn't Charlie.
Eyes blurring with free-flowing tears, Monty held up a warding hand and tried to get more detail- it was as if a dark veil was draped over his brother, obscuring the real details. "Don't come any closer!" He squeaked, voice breaking.
Charlie's demeanor shifted as his elbow slid off the chair and his fists clenched at his sides, from passive to menacing in a heartbeat. He was always the big, burly sibling. "You're coming with me, brother." Every button on the control panel was blinking and turning bright, glowing red- every monitor flickered and became white and black static.
Gasping as his heart raced, Monty grabbed the pistol from his hip and shakily raised it in threat as the specter of Charlie slowly approached and darkness began to trickle into the corners of his vision. The voices calling through the speakers began to cry feverishly in higher and higher pitches.
Join us. The veil shrouding his brothers features lifted.
Join us. Half of Charlie's face was gone. He grinned.
JOIN US MONTY.
"NOO!" Monty screamed at the top of his lungs, closed his eyes and lifted the pistol in both hands while tucking his head down to his chest.
BANG!