Stukov used a gravsled to bring the Umojan admiral, still in her CMC, to the bridge of the Aleksander. He did not like what he had done, but he had done it out of necessity. Stukov didn't want Reeves or the Republic and Umojan fleet to know the whereabouts of his base or Kerrigan's leviathan. It was imperative that Abathur continued his experiments, under his direction, undisturbed, and that his building army of infested be away from prying eyes. He had chosen that inhospitable nowhere of a planet so that he would not be observed either coming or going and so he could take the admiral away to a private place where he would not be followed or attacked. After immobilizing her, he had dragged her, with the help of a team of two hydralisks, back to his shuttle and then back to the Aleksander, which was hidden in a nebula a few lightyears away.
He carefully slid Marín's CMC off of the gravsled and wrestled it with his infested arm into an upright position. She shifted inside and banged on the inner hull in frustration. After leaving the planet and sending the feral zerg he had summoned away, he was unable to read her thoughts and was alone with his own. It was just as well. When he had revealed that he was a "teep" she had engaged a simple defense against his intrusion that worked against low-level telepathy, as his indeed was. She had focused on a song—"Se Voul Ballare"—repeating it over and over to shield her thoughts. The choice was odd to him. Was it a challenge? Was it to steel herself? Or was it happenstance? But in all those cases, it was not something he thought he'd hear in the Koprulu sector. Often he would poke fun at DuGalle for being stuffy and listening to opera and classical music, but he had learned to enjoy it as well if for only being exposed to it constantly in his company. Most of the people he had encountered in the Koprulu sector—Raynor, Kerrigan, Horner, or even both Mengsks—he would not call "cultured." And if they claimed to be, like Valerian, they were in a brassy, ostentatious way that seemed performative. But he had no firsthand knowledge of the Umojans. Everything he had learned was from Republic news sources. They were usually defensive in most conflicts and often engaged in espionage. They had meddled in Dominion affairs—first supporting Arcturus Mengsk—and then most recently discrediting Valerian. That he could appreciate. In his mind, Valerian should have paid for what Moebius did to him—more than just losing his position. Because of this and the Umojan Protectorate's own change of leadership, they had become more open in their diplomacy. They had always assisted the Dominion against the zerg, but now they were helping the new Republic rebuild its agricultural sectors with their advanced technology after the damage done by the zerg and the UED. Still, citizens of the Republic seemed to think of them as self-absorbed and over-serious.
Stukov felt around on the outside of the CMC. There were two emergency release catches on it—one on the inside and the other on the outside. He'd made sure to fry the interior catch so she couldn't free herself and also to manually open the suit's air vents so she wouldn't suffocate. Stukov fumbled under the CMC's chest plate for the exterior emergency release. The Umojan CMC was slightly different in design than a Republic or UED one. The viewport on the helmet extended further onto the chest and was squared. There was also more electronic equipment, which had made it more susceptible to the EMP device he had rigged together. While he looked for the catch, he rehearsed in his head what he would say to her for the hundredth time. The impression he made and the information he gave would dictate whether they would assist him or not. He needed their help, but he wasn't going to tell them how desperate he was.
Stukov found the emergency catch and yanked it free. The suit cracked open at the chest with a pneumatic hiss, but the helmet release malfunctioned. She wouldn't be able to see as she stepped out. A small hand reached out and braced against the side of the suit and another pushed the suit open wider. Reflexively, he removed his glove and grabbed her hand to help her out. Puzzled, he realized her arms were bare; as she struggled out, she revealed her leg to her thigh. She ducked out of the suit and put both feet uncertainly on the infestation covering the Aleksander's floor. As Marín emerged fully, Stukov was surprised to find she was wearing a black, formal evening gown. She coughed, making a face perhaps at how the ship smelled, then straightened the bodice with an angry motion and picked up her skirt to keep it from dragging the floor. Stukov realized it was much too long for her without shoes. Her appearance caught him off guard; maybe that was the point. He forgot what he was going to say, but thankfully he was rarely at a loss for words.
"Does your military not have uniforms?" he said looking down at her, bemused. She took a step towards Stukov, standing toe-to-toe with him. She was several inches shorter than him. "Or height requirements?"
Marín looked him straight in the eye and Stukov held her gaze. To Stukov she seemed clearly scared and agitated and trying to hide the former. "Hilarious. Your little stunt on Tarsonis interrupted my night at the opera. I've been in this goddamn dress for almost eight hours now."
"I'm sorry the UED invasion didn't work with your schedule. Maybe next time they'll call you first."
"It'd be nice if we could all be that civil, wouldn't it? For a planet that considers us to be a backwater, your people are not exactly polite."
"Polite? What was it one of your pilots said? 'Let's lube him up and...'"
"Oh, so you were listening to ship-to-ship communications? I'll have to talk to Horner about changing the frequencies... For the record, that wasn't one of mine." Stukov hadn't actually been bothered. Talk like that was par for the course among troops who got too comfortable with each other, like the ones who had boarded his ship. It had stuck in his mind because he wasn't used to it being directed at him, and the man who said it had a name common to his home region. She raised an eyebrow at him, "I'm surprised you didn't pick up on anything worse from me while I was in that suit. Why don't you tell me what I'm thinking right now?"
"It doesn't sound like that is necessary. And my telepathy only functions when other zerg are around. We're out of range—purposefully. I didn't think it diplomatic to read a potential ally's thoughts during negotiations."
"Potential ally? Diplomacy? It wasn't very 'diplomatic' of you to EMP your 'ally's' suit and drag her across the sector... And what in the hell do you think I'd want to negotiate with you?"
"The terms of my defection."
Marín looked incredulous. Stukov began to worry. It was natural for her to angry at him for what was basically kidnapping, but he was hoping that she would be more open to the idea of an alliance with him.
"Defection? Horner and Valerian were under the impression you were on our side until you started sending infested into Tarsonis City."
Stukov straightened, summoning his pride. "I have always been a UED officer, but I was abandoned by them to the zerg and tortured by agents of the Dominion. I allied with Kerrigan at first to exact revenge, but then to combat a larger threat. In the absence of the UED and Kerrigan, I now try to stay out of conflicts or at least side with those who cause the least suffering. The UED are here again, and my loyalty should lie there, but they foolishly think that attempting to conquer this sector will do anything more than cause an overwhelming loss of life. That's something I cannot abide."
"Then what is there to negotiate?"
Stukov sighed, putting his infested arm behind him and leaning back against the holographic display in the middle of the bridge. He hadn't planned on giving this much information, but he decided to not engage in subterfuge. He wasn't good at it anyway. Stukov had nothing to lose and a lot to gain from forging an honest relationship with the Umojans and the new Republic. "There are... complications..."
"Such as?"
"They have me by the throat," he said angrily. "My son is on board one of the carriers. They have threatened to kill him—and the rest of my family—if I do not continue to submit to them. That's why I need your help." Stukov studied her face, wishing that he could read her thoughts now. She took a deep breath. The anger left her face and her eyes softened.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Does that mean you need our help?
Stukov hesitated. He didn't want to seem weak, but if he was going to rescue his son, he would need assistance. Stukov was certain he could infiltrate the carrier on his own—even destroy it—but any action on his part was risky. The moment that he was found to be responsible, Gregory would most likely be executed.
"I want to make a deal. I will defect, and the Umojan Protectorate and the Republic will have my resources at their command if they will free me from... my entanglement with UED forces."
Marín looked at him skeptically. "You've fought for the UED, the zerg, and the Dominion, and you've betrayed all but the zerg. How do I know you're not going to turn on Umoja as well?"
"Betrayed? I have done no such thing. I helped depose Mengsk, yes, but I have never fought directly against the Dominion except as a UED officer... And that was another life. And neither of us would be talking to each other right now if not for my participation in the war against Amon alongside Kerrigan and the Dominion—and by extension your people—whom I should have had no loyalty to."
"Don't make it sound like you fought for the Umojan Protectorate. I fought in that war; my commanding officer died, and someone very close to me almost did. I don't remember you at all. You're going to have to do better than that to make Umoja care about helping you."
"I'm sure the Dominion thought my participation... problematic. They could not very well hide Kerrigan and her contribution, but I could just be written off as another of the infested... But if you need something more... concrete... Then maybe you will care about this," Stukov moved his hand over the holographic display's controls with a quickness that made the Umojan admiral flinch. A holographic image of a star system appeared above it—it was Umojan territory, highlighted with the fleet's path towards Umoja. He studied her reaction. Her jaw clenched as she studied the display. She forgot him for a moment, and started walking around the table, carrying her skirt and picking her way over the tendrils of infestation on the floor.
"They're coming for us next."
"Yes, once they Tarsonis is fully under their control, they will seize their shipyards and use it as a launching point against Tyrador and then Korhal. If Korhal falls, the core side of your territory will be flanked by UED-occupied Dominion planets. Then, they will begin a push into your territory. After that, they'll deal with the Kel-Morians if they find it necessary..."
"The Kel-Morians will just sign a trade agreement with them and call it a day."
"A fair assessment, yes."
She continued to study the display, walking now on the other side of the table. Her leg flashed in and out of the slit in her skirt as she walked. She had a quick-tempered, clever demeanor that he had not expected from an Umojan, a people whom the Republic stereotyped as phlegmatic and humorless. It had played into his hands. Without Horner, he was afraid no one would catch on that he had been holding back. As he watched her, he Idly wondered what mix of Earth nationalities she had descended from. The ship that had crash-landed on Umoja—the one that had survived—had on it mainly degenerates from the African continent and from areas around the Mediterranean and southern Europe. With her olive skin, dark hair, and small stature, she could have been from anywhere.
"Not very creative, are they?"
"Sorry?" He said, realizing he had let himself get distracted.
"This attack. It's straightforward to the point of stupidity. No attempt to preemptively take down any of our automated fortress defenses like The Keep... It relies heavily on superior numbers and firepower. They seem very sure of themselves... Like they're just going to waltz in..."
"Yes, it is wasteful... There will be many lives lost on both sides."
"Wasteful? I thought your main tactic was to overwhelm your enemies with wave after wave of the infested."
"There is no waste of life, Admiral. And unfortunately the dead are a... constantly renewing resource."
Marín chose to ignore the comment and continued to look at the holographic display. After a moment, she spoke.
"Is this all the data you have?"
"There is much more... I'll give you the rest when you've done what I've asked."
"When we rescue your son, they'll know you've switched sides. A lot of this data will be useless because they will change their plans."
"Not all of it. I have technical schematics, numbers and statistical data on the fleet... And security codes... You'll also have my fleet to add to your own... Surely that is more valuable, no?"
She appraised him, seeming doubtful. He straightened himself, crossing his arms in front of him in an attempt to look more formidable. Perhaps she needs a reminder that I'm a monster, he thought, but then he decided against it. Relating to her as a human, he reasoned, was a better tactic. In any case, he felt he could work with her in a way he could never work with his own countryman, Reeves.
"How many, uh, units do you have under your command?" Marín said, turning her back to him and again studying the display.
"Far too many. There are millions of infested and millions more that could become infested... And that doesn't even factor in my ability to raise and command the zerg."
"That's tempting," she said, turning away again. "But it'll be a hard sell. Getting your son off the carrier will be difficult. And I'm pretty sure using infested troops is against the peacetime accords between Umoja and the Republic. At best it's desecration of a corpse. At worst it's a war crime."
"I know what being infested alive is like. I don't recommend it. I only infest the dead. Surely that's not a 'war crime.'"
"But you most likely killed them first... Like you did on Tarsonis."
"They would have been dead anyway regardless of the tactics I used. Think of it this way: if you've lost your weapon, and you see a dead soldier on the ground, would you not take his weapon and use it?"
"That's a false equivalency. Reanimating a corpse is much different than picking up an inanimate object."
"A corpse is an inanimate object!"
"Yes, but that person was 'animate' at some point..."
"It sounds as though you're not interested in my offer," he said, beginning to become annoyed. Marín put her hands up.
"Just playing devil's advocate."
"If you were being literal, that would make you my advocate."
"Do you think of yourself as a devil?"
He wanted to say yes. He would normally say yes. But intimidation would not get him what he wanted.
"No, no I'm not. The zerg have made me a monster, but I am human. I want to help, but I can't until my son is free." The last part is true, Stukov thought, but the rest is a lie. There was little of his humanity left—only a shred that kept him from totally becoming zerg. At turns he wanted to be free of his humanity and other times of the Swarm, but somehow, as either zerg or human, he still cared about his son's fate. But Reeves had awoken the cold beast in him; he wanted revenge. This was not something that his allies would understand. The lie was simpler. Marín seemed to believe it. "And if it is absolutely necessary, I can abandon the infested in favor of more... traditional zerg forces."
"Okay, that's good to hear... And certainly something I'll mention to my superiors... What's your plan for your son's extraction?"
Stukov called up a different starchart. This showed the UED fleet in its current location in the Tarsonis system. It played through a loop showing a precise liberator attack targeting the fleet's flank. This drew away the Kuznetsov's escort and native liberators and allowed a dropship access to its aft hull where there were no gun turrets.
"I've been able to isolate the Kuznetsov in simulations... This carrier does not generally stay on the front lines... It instead supplies support and cover fire for its squadrons. With an elaborate enough distraction, the fleet would be divided and the Kuznetsov exposed enough to be boarded." He tapped the console again, closing in on the squadron of liberators that would be used. "This is how the fleet should react to the squadron based on their maneuvers during the attack on Tarsonis."
Marín watched the video loop several times. Again, he wished that he knew what she was thinking. "That's not all I would require... Someone would need to obtain the encoded comm buoy frequency so a message could be relayed to my family..."
"That would be the least difficult part... An attack would be costly..."
"But you have much to gain."
She went silent again. Not being able to hear what was going on in her mind was excruciating, but he would have to get used to it again if he were to join forces with the Umojans and the Republic. Allying with them would mean spending time away from the zerg. And doing so made him feel out of control. On the outside, the zerg seemed chaotic, their animal instincts making them seem random in their behavior. But nothing could be less the truth. The zerg had few wants, and when they were provided they would react a certain way; take them away, they would react in a different—but predictable—way. Beings like Zagara, Kerrigan, Abathur, and himself were outliers, but their motivations he understood. Humans you could never fully know, and it made him anxious now in their presence. He didn't know if it was because of his betrayal by the one person he least expected, or it was due to his time with the zerg. It would take him awhile to be comfortable with not seeing the full picture. Stukov watched the muscles in her back move as she nonchalantly gathered and re-gathered her skirt, lost in thought and most likely weighing her own motivations.
"I'll take this back to the fleet," Marín said finally, turning to him again, "But I can't promise anything."
"I understand."
Stukov looked over at the console and realized that the meeting had taken much longer than he had anticipated. It was probably not a good idea to keep her any longer. "I should take you back to your comrades now. I wouldn't want them to think some harm has come to you."
"You're not going to put me back in that coffin, are you?" Marín said, nodding back to her disabled CMC.
He had, in fact, been planning on putting her back in it, but that seemed inhumane and rude now.
"No, but I will have to ask that you remain off the bridge until we get back to the rendezvous point. I'll make sure your CMC is operational by then." He walked to the elevator, "Come. We don't have much time."
Stukov led her through the ship to the hanger bay, feeling somewhat embarrassed by the state of his once proud ship. It was as if he had invited someone over and then had forgotten to clean up. Being disconnected momentarily from the zerg made him realize how disgusting the Aleksander was now on the inside and how roughly he really lived.
Stukov put Marín on his shuttle and locked her out of the controls. With his mind, he urged the Aleksander to FTL like a beast of burden. As the ship traveled towards its destination, he reinitiated Marín's CMC and brought it to the hangar bay. Inside the shuttle, he helped her back into it.
"I'll take you planetside now and land a few kilometers from your shuttle. Your CMC should be fully operational—except for your transponder, which I removed," he gave her a sidelong look. She shrugged as she maneuvered her arm into the suit.
"You didn't say anything about locator devices—just weapons."
Stukov took control of the shuttle and piloted it towards the planet below. The ride was silent until they hit the planet's dense atmosphere. The wind sang around the hull, buffeting the shuttle, making it shift from side to side abruptly. After a few minutes, the atmosphere was so dense that Stukov had to rely on instrumentation to fly. He fired the landing jets without even seeing the ground, and when he did, it was uncomfortably close. Their landing was rough; his flight back to the Kuznetsov was the first time he had piloted a shuttle in years. Putting a shuttle in a hangar was one thing, and landing in hazardous conditions was another.
He pulled the hatch and the roar of the wind came in and was deafeningly loud.
This is your stop, Admiral, he thought to her. She balked at his voice in her head. He looked over his shoulder at her and smirked, pleased he had startled her—but then was surprised by her unguarded thoughts. She was going over their discussion and different ways to pitch his plan. He felt her uncertainty about how they would respond; Marín was worried that his use of the infested would be a deal-breaker. But what surprised him the most was that she hoped that he would be able to rescue his son no matter the outcome of the negotiation with her people. He felt awful now that he had intruded on her. His quick turn on her made Stukov feel uneasy; he had gone right back to being a monster the moment he was in contact with the zerg again. He grabbed the pilot's headset off the console and tapped into her CMC comm unit.
"I'll be watching if anything goes wrong... All the data I showed you is on your CMC's onboard computer."
"Thanks. How will we contact you after I've taken this data back to the fleet?"
"There's an encryption key and a low-band communication frequency imbedded in the message I sent you. I have an overlord shadowing the Hyperion. If they send out a signal, I'll be listening."
"Easy enough..." Marín began walking towards the door.
"If was a pleasure to meet you, Admiral. I hope we meet again under better circumstances."
"Yes... Maybe next time you won't resort to kidnapping."
"And maybe you'll be less formally attired. Or I can put on a suit to make you feel less out of place..."
He could hear Marín's exasperated sigh over the suit's comm. Her mind was full of slightly rude retorts that she was too polite to say.
"We'll be in contact soon." Stukov nodded to her.
Marín stepped into the inhospitable wasteland outside the shuttle. Stukov remained on the ground for awhile, monitoring her location until she was a kilometer away. He then piloted the shuttle back into the low clouds away from Marín on the ground and the zerg he controlled on the planet's surface. As he left the system, Stukov was alone again, and suddenly felt very sharply what that meant.
