In the darkness of the empty bridge of the Hyperion, Adm. Matthew Horner stood at the holographic war table alone. His meeting with the fleet about Stukov's defection had been over for a few hours, but he just couldn't bring himself to make the call. Above the table, instead of star charts and battle plans, a propaganda vid produced by the UED was projected in full color. The light of Tarsonis City in daytime flashed across Horner's face. It cast his face in sharp shadows, deepening the lines that had recently appeared, forged by decades of military service. When he had been preparing for the presidential debate and thinking about national defense, he did not think there would be another major conflict like this one. He had thought they might have a skirmish with Zagara over territory, a minor border war with the Kel-Morians or, less likely, the Umojan Protectorate. Horner had never imagined that the UED would return, much less with this large of a force.

The propaganda vid opened with martial, patriotic music (it could have been their national anthem—he didn't know) in a major key played over a siege tank driving through Tarsonis City. In it was the commander of the UED fleet, an Adm. Troy Reeves, smiling and waving to crowds of people that lined the streets. It was cartoonishly staged. A voiceover—not from any reporter he recognized as being from Tarsonis—began.

"The UED and the citizens of Tarsonis celebrate our grand victory and the people's freedom from the tyranny of the Terran Republic." The siege tank rolled up to the steps of Mengsk's stronghold. Marcos Marinakis stood motionless and oddly straight in a conservative, tailored suit and starched shirt—an outfit he would never have chosen to wear—on its front steps. Adm. Reeves jogged to him and clasp his hand. Marinakis smiled mechanically. "For the former citizens of the Terran Republic, the UED ushers in a new age of prosperity by backing Marcos Marinakis, wealthy businessman and voter favorite, as the new president of the Terran Republic after it was abandoned by its current president, Admiral Matthew Horner." Horner winced at hearing his name in that context. Is that the way they're spinning it? That we abandoned them? I guess in a way we did. He recognized the UED's tactics: Occupy, set up a puppet dictator, become like a parasite sapping the colony's resources… Standard operating procedure for imperialist conquerors… But how did they get Marinakis to comply? He reasoned it was probably through force or by holding something over his head like they had Stukov. It could just as easily have been me up there.

As he turned it off, he realized they hadn't mentioned Stukov. But then again, I guess they wouldn't. Would they see him as a traitor? They have some weird ideas about "purity" regarding technology and biology… But the more he thought about it, the more troubling it became. Doctoring his appearance to make him look human for the vid would have been a simple thing, and they could have acted as though he had used psi emitters and disrupters to control the zerg—as he still occasionally did and had when he was second in command of the UED Expeditionary Fleet. They must think of their alliance as temporary. Stukov's not going home. They'll make sure of that.

Stukov… I hate to be the bearer of bad news… No… he thought to himself, rehearsing what he would next say. And he had to say it personally—he owed him that much respect and courtesy. The leaders of the three fleets—himself, Valerian, Augustin, plus Marín, Vermaak and Oyaleni—had met aboard the Vrede to discuss Stukov's proposal. It had been a contentious meeting. Marín had made her case well, but Oyaleni, Vermaak and Valerian were skeptical about using their resources to rescue one man. Trading the lives of well-trained marines, ghosts, and pilots—which were already in scarce supply—for a single valuable asset did not seem like a good trade at this point in the war. Also, Horner was used to his tactics and use of the infested, but the others, particularly the Umojans, were not, and were dubious of his trustworthiness. And he saved my life—that of course makes me biased... That, and he knew that without Stukov they may not be able to defend Tyrador IX, his childhood home, made what he had to do now that much harder.

He input the frequency for the secure channel into the Hyperion's comm system and opened it. The frequency Stukov chose was modulated in an odd way, causing a weird static in the channel and a buzz that faded in and out. Almost immediately, Stukov appeared. He was not on the bridge of the Aleksander, but somewhere else—at a desk in his office or in his quarters. Behind him was a large glass window, cracked but webbed with infestation. His eyes luminesced in a frightening way in the dim lighting of wherever he was.

"Horner… Good to see you made it back to the fleet."

"Yes… And I apparently have you to thank for that."

"Just be thankful I've been keeping up with current events… Or it may have been you in Marinakis place… Shaking hands with Troy…"

"I guess you were watching that as well… Do you know Admiral Reeves?"

"Enough to know he's a dangerously incompetent and vindictive ass. And one that has my son."

Well, here we go…

"About that…"

"Yes?"

"Stukov, I'm sorry, but we just don't have the resources for a rescue mission. What you've asked… The risks involved… The price is too high for us right now. We have to turn you down."

Stukov sat back in his chair, silently watching Horner, his eerie, glowing eyes boring holes in him. During the silence between them, Horner heard the hiss of the bridge's elevator doors opening. He resisted the urge to turn around to see who it was—mostly because he already knew.

"If you could wait…" Horner said hopefully.

"I can't wait, Horner. They'll kill my son." Stukov said, his voice cracking in an uncharacteristic display of emotion. Horner was taken aback.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Stukov. We just don't have the manpower." Stukov straightened in his chair, his expression turning stony and cold.

"And so am I. I'll see you at Tyrador."

Stukov abruptly cut off the call. Horner sighed. Valerian stepped out of the shadows and came to stand next to Horner. He had been consciously keeping out of the video's pickup to keep from engaging with Stukov. Horner wondered if Stukov even knew Valerian and Moebius Corp. were part of the Terran Republic fleet.

"That… could have gone better," Valerian said confidingly. He squeezed Horner's shoulder briefly in a gesture of consolation.

"I don't know how else it could have gone. I told him the bad news; he took it the only way he could. That Admiral Reeves really has him over a barrel."

"I wouldn't take that emotional outburst at face value. He's a zerg now, not a man."

"It seemed real enough to me," Horner said. Valerian had voiced similar sentiments in their meeting about helping Stukov. He had a very dim view of his humanity, and Horner didn't really know why. Compartmentalizing maybe? If he's not human, then what he did at Skygeirr wasn't really a crime. Or maybe he doesn't want him to ally with us—then he'd have to deal with him. Or Stukov would deal with him instead. A confrontation between the two was inevitable if an alliance was made.

"Maybe, but it doesn't negate the fact that if he stands against us at Tyrador, his army will be a significant hurdle. Did he include his own battle plans with the Destroyer Fleet's?"

"No, he didn't. That may seem like subterfuge, but he may not have had any prepared yet. I'm sure the UED's plans have they've been in the pipe for months if not years… But if we don't have the jump on them both, we'll have the protoss at our side at least, right?"

"Yes, I spoke to Artanis and Vorazun. Both are willing to pledge troops to our defense… But they're in much the same position as we are. They haven't recovered—and they also don't want to leave their territory vulnerable to attack."

"Something is better than nothing. We'll take what we can get—like you said, we'll need it if Stukov is batting for the other team."

"Yes—and I've… pulled in a favor to even the odds."

"Oh?" Horner said hopefully. Just then he heard a soft shuffling of footfalls somewhere on the bridge. He realized that Valerian wasn't alone when he walked onto the bridge. Horner looked around nervously. He didn't wholly trust Valerian anymore.

"I thought it would be prudent to enlist the help… of a professional." Beside the door to the lift, a shadow turned suddenly lighter, revealing a tall, blonde woman in the gear of a Terran Republic ghost leaning nonchalantly against the wall. She pulled up her goggles and smiled faintly, crossing her arms.

"Nova?"

"Somebody call for an exterminator?"


Alarak waited impatiently the bridge of the Wrath of the Ardent. From the dais of the massive mothership, he surveyed the Death Fleet.

"Ji'nara?" His second, Ji'nara, looked up from her console wearily.

"Still nothing on sensors, Highlord."

Alarak drummed his nails on the railing of the dais.

"What's keeping Stukov? He's almost…" At the far end of the fleet, the Aleksander appeared, dropping out of FTL. Its tentacles unfurled as its momentum canceled. Alarak was disgusted by the sight of it. "Right on time… Hm."

"He's hailing us."

"Open communication." The tainted visage of the infested terran appeared in front of Alarak, projected against the darkness of space. He felt again an instinctual revulsion at his scarred face and the dim psionic light leaking from him, its color indicative of his pollution by the zerg.

"Highlord Alarak, thank you for receiving me…"

"Don't thank me yet…" it took him a moment to decide what to call him, "…terran. Are you ready to come aboard?"

Stukov took a step back, straightening himself and folding his infested arm behind him.

"Of course."

"Ji'nara?" Alarak said without turning.

"Initiating transport."

Stukov disappeared from the bridge of the Aleksander in a flash of light. He reappeared moments later on the bridge of the Wrath of the Ardent, below the image of his own bridge. Ji'nara closed the video feed. Alarak looked down on him from the dais. What a disgusting husk of a man, Alarak thought. How weak human flesh is that it allows the zerg to defile it so readily. But he knew Stukov was a special case among the terrans. Something about him allowed him to resist the zerg as Kerrigan had. No one of humankind came close to frightening him except Kerrigan and Stukov and their aberrant mixture of zerg and human flesh and essence. Their impurity is their strength, as strange as that seems. He had seen him fight against Amon; he was not a threat to be taken lightly.

"Speak, half-breed. What is it that you wish of me?" If Stukov had even registered the insult, he didn't show it. His posture and expression didn't change.

"I wish to discuss a…" He made a gesture in the air with his gloved, human hand as if reaching for a word, "…mutually beneficial arrangement. My people have recently returned to this sector…"

"Your people?" Alarak said with mild surprise, "Are you referring to the infested or this new ridiculous Terran Republic I've been hearing about? Aren't both of them already here?"

Stukov laughed a short, derisive laugh. "No, I am from Earth. My people are the United Earth Directorate. They are conquerors. They came here many years ago to subdue the zerg and their colonies in the Koprulu sector. That was when I was left here. They needed—and they still need—worlds to live on and room to expand… which I'm sure you can relate to, no?"

Stukov was right. After the Tal'darim abandoned Slayn, they were without a permanent home. They had become a space-faring people, ever increasing the size of the Death Fleet to accommodate their needs.

"Do you dare compare your people to the Tal'darim? Do not insult me. We are nothing like you humans and your bickering over commerce and resources. If you have something to offer, beast, let it be known before my patience with you wears out."

A bemused smirk crossed Stukov's face. He seemed totally unfazed by his remarks despite being at their mercy standing while aboard the Wrath of the Ardent. Alarak realized he must have had an escape plan—or he was suicidal.

"With pleasure, Alarak. Your reputation for unpleasantness precedes you. I do not wish to remain here any longer than necessary, believe me. The UED offers, in return for an alliance and assistance subduing the Terran Republic, the Umojan Protectorate, and later the zerg, a homeworld within the boundaries and protection of the Terran Republic or Umojan Protectorate—with the only exceptions of Tarsonis, Umoja, and Korhal IV."

He didn't show it, but Alarak was immediately tempted. His tenure as a leader had made Alarak realize that if his people were to survive, they would need a homeworld and to work more as a people than as a cult. He had abolished Rak'Shir in as much as the challenger had to kill their foe and promoted a return to a more normal life. Still, his people grew restless. They needed a homeworld before they cannibalized each other cooped up in ships wandering space. And the bloodshed necessary to claim a terran world would only make the newfound colony more attractive.

"An interesting offer. And if I were to accept?"

"We attack the Tyrador system in twenty-four Earth-standard hours. There will be a strategy meeting in twelve. If you are interested, I can give you the coordinates."

Alarak felt giddy. It would be a perfect act of revenge to siege and then claim the world on which he had been previously defeated by the Dominion.

"Would the UED be willing to part with Tyrador IX and X as part of our… arrangement?" An emotion passed across Stukov's face, but it was fleeting. His detached amusement returned, but it now had an angry quality that Alarak did not like.

"The UED does not have a particular attachment to any of this sectors' worlds apart from its highest population centers. I'm sure that could be negotiated. Will the Death Fleet stand with us or not, Highlord?"

"Do not rush my decision."

"Alarak," Ji'nara said quietly. "A homeworld…" Ji'nara apparently also felt that the offer Stukov proposed was too good to pass up.

"Silence, Ji'nara!" Stukov chuckled, but his mirth was tinged with loathing—either of him or of himself. Stukov could read between the lines—or could read their thoughts. Alarak was not sure which.

"I'll see you in twelve hours then."

Alarak did not reply but waved his hand at Ji'nara. Stukov chuckled again as the transport engaged, leaving them with an echo of his dark laughter.

"I'm sorry, Highlord… I…" Alarak rounded on her.

"No time for that now, is there? We have a lot of work to do."