Exile of the Swarm (Rewrite)

by Howling Din

Sent into exile by her mother, Overqueen Zagara and made to fight for the Dominion against an invasion from Earth, Saraslha will be faced and shaped by a crucible of new adversaries and questions as she makes the changing Koprulu Sector; the war-torn wider world, her own. (Sequel to Princess of the Swarm) (Rewrite of Exile of the Swarm: The War Under Iron Skies)

1. Firelight

The old sequel to Princess of the Swarm never quite satisfied me. As I wrote it, it felt too robotic, too formulaic, and too loaded down with unnecessary details. My interest petered out while writing its 4th chapter.

Now I've returned to the story with a new energy and new ideas. It's been re-written from scratch, with a similar starting point and a lot of the same characters. Nonetheless it would be fair to say the story is now radically different.

I've finished 4 chapters out of the 20 I have planned in an outline, and will release them weekly until I run out, and whenever I finish them afterward. I'm also committed to responding to all comments of the prior chapter in the author's notes of each new chapter, or directly in the case of the AO3 post.

---

Chapter 1: Firelight

She wore a prison jumpsuit. Her ankles were fit with metal braces which would magnetically lock together on command, preventing her from running. Steel caps were bonded to all 10 of her fingertips, giving them a blunt surface which couldn't cut. Her head was fit with a muzzle that allowed her mouth to open in a slit; enough to eat and drink, not enough to bite.

She stood in the hazy atmosphere and deafening noise of a cavern being mined. It was part of the New Folsom prison compound. Strikes of metal on stone and the roar of heavy duty ventilation fans and life support modules were a constant assailment to the ears. Dozens of other prisoners, who wore the same leg braces, but no finger caps or muzzles, could be seen chipping away at the walls with pickaxes, or hauling broken rock away with shovels and hand carts. This system was low-tech by design, meant to exhaust prisoners rather than mine efficiently.

Her pickaxe was resting on the rock floor, a hand resting balanced atop it as she watched another prisoner with a hand cart approach and then shovel from a pile of rocks and dirt that had built up around her area.

"Lupin!" She said in a friendly tone. "Just the man I wanted to see."

Lupin only looked at her briefly, then refocused on the task of loading his cart.

"C'mon, there's no need for that," she said. "I just want to get the story of how you ended up here."

"We ain't s'posed to chat during work hours, Syrenne." Lupin muttered nervously. "You wanna get another crack from the guards, don't drag me into it."

"Listen, buddy," the excessively constrained female prisoner spoke nonchalantly. "I like swinging the pickaxe as much as the next fella here, but I also like to break the monotony, know what I mean? Give me a short version and I'll let you go."

"Or I can just go." Lupin pulled his cart away half-full.

Six other prisoners crowded around them. Lupin stopped, Syrenne remained in her casual posture as she spoke. "What can I help you fine people with?"
"Lenny's pickaxe broke," the biggest of the group of six, a man named Ajax said. "Without it, he's not going to meet his quota." He was eyeing Syrenne. "I'd like to do this the correct way, know what I'm saying?"

Syrenne slowly, loudly yawned through her muzzle. Ajax was visibly annoyed. "Sucks for your pal Lenny," she said. "If you want, I'll have a word with the supply officer."

Ajax's head shook. "You should know at this point not to disagree with me, Syrenne."

Syrenne had a small smirk. "Can't help it, it's fun."

Lupin was unable to get his cart past the concave of other prisoners, and had shrunk against the rock wall, making himself scarce.

"You want to do things the difficult way, that's fine by me." The gang of six crowded Syrenne closer.

Syrenne barely reacted to this. "Just try not to rat on me after this." She surveyed them. "That goes for all of you, alright?"

"Get her!"

She sidestepped the swing of a shovel from one of the prisoners as she planted a foot on the tool and lifted herself off it.
Her other foot went on his shoulder as she bounded over their concave with an improbable speed.

"Fucking freak!"

"Go!" Ajax's voice.

"Come and get it!" Syrenne shouted as she sprinted away, waving her pickaxe in the air.

There was no way she could overpower six grown men at once; she'd tried before. Syrenne ran past a deafeningly loud life support module on the cavern floor, and over the cables running to it.

The gang of six were on her tail. She ran into a clean cut passageway lined with steel support structures. At a three-way intersection, she quickly glanced both directions and saw exactly what she anticipated would be there at this time: A guard patrol.

She stopped at the intersection.
Syrenne turned around to face the gang of six, who were seconds behind. She spread her arms and smirked. It was only right to give them a sporting chance; a hint of their imminent blunder. Seeing them fail to see through her ruse transformed any frustration toward Terran fallibility into amusement. Her smirk only seemed to enflame them-

A shovel struck her in the shoulder, this was quickly followed by grabs and strikes as she was wrestled to the ground by the gang of six. She did not fight back.

More footsteps, the sound made by the boots of prison guards. Seconds later, Ajax and his gang were screaming in pain with the crack of shock batons erupting all around. Syrenne felt her ankle braces pull together with a clang.

---

"Did you hear about the new psi cadet we're getting?" Constance, a dark-skinned young woman in a mostly empty cafeteria said from her slouched seat to another girl.

The other girl, whose skinny physique was accented with diminutive body language, spoke in a crisp, dispassionate tone. "Indeed. Her name is Syrenne, and she's a New Folsom convict."

"That's right. It's more junk being dumped on our republic by the Dominion. They really…" Constance looked the smaller girl in the eyes. "Can't handle their own messes, can they, Casa?"

"Is that meant to get me going?" Casa had a half-smirk as she returned the look from standing next to a running microwave, waiting for it to warm a meal. "You'll have to come up with an insult for my nation that's actually true."

"Hmph, I'm sure I'll find your weak spot soon."

Casa shrugged lightly, her eyes shut. "Not everything is a contest of wits where one side must win."

"True. There are also contests of survival where those who don't win die."

"There's no reason everybody can't win, no?"
"Good luck getting everybody to think that way…" Constance looked away, her eyelids moving lightly; a slight emotional loss of control. "Especially those… Monsters, on Char."

"They did reach out to us in recent history."

Constance nodded upward.

"And look how well that went. The zerg create one of their own with human features, and the power just goes to its head. There's no productive connection to be made with them."

Casa raised a hand to signal a loss of interest in the topic, then turned to the microwave and opened it. "I've been told that Marcus has been looking for you. Probably in regard to the last fight you had with him."

"If he wants to be stupid and pick another one, that's on him."
"How long will that cycle continue, I wonder…"

"Not my fault if he insists on breaking the rules."
"Rules you set-"

"Not to pick on the younger cadets. I've got no patience for shitfucks who prey on the weak."

"The boy has problems at home. A little bird tells me he's beaten–"

"Everybody's got an excuse for their shitty behavior. That doesn't make it any less shitty, or theirs."

Casa took her food to sit across from Constance. "Are you going to greet the new psi cadet when she arrives?"

"Absolutely. Coming from New Folsom, for all I know she's a psycho; I have to make it clear to her what's tolerated in these parts and what isn't."

"Isn't that a job for officials and law enforcement?"

Constance snorted as she rose to her feet to leave. "Can't hurt to lay it on thick."

"Marcus will be waiting to ambush you in hallway seven!"

"Let him try."

---

Syrenne stood in front of the New Folsom Prison Warden in his office. Two armed guards stood behind her, and her hands had been cuffed as an additional safety measure.

"If it were up to me…" The Warden said in the familiar drawl she often heard when he spoke over the loudspeakers. "You'd have been put in solitary from day one. But the people in charge wouldn't have it. They made me treat you no different from any other prisoner. And I tried to be accommodatin', I tried to seal up those… weapons, in your fingers and mouth to make it an even playing field with us normal folk, but the real problem is in your brain."

Syrenne spoke. "You're saying I have behavioral issues that won't be tolerated in your prison."

"That's exactly right."

She shrugged. "Quit."

"Hell you say?" The Warden said in a low tone.

She stared at him. "There are prisoners far worse than me in this place– and not in solitary confinement. If just me is enough to get you this worked up, maybe this job is too much for you."

The Warden signaled a guard, who kicked her leg calf and forced her to lower to a knelt position. "Where I'm from." The Warden said. "Mouthy brats like you get beat."

"So you're saying they lose arguments with young people?" Syrenne was smirking.

Another signal from the Warden. Syrenne was hit in the back with a rifle stock. She bent forward from the blow.

"Go ahead, keep giving me excuses."

"Ahh, I get it now." Her eyes were wide; mock surprise. "You're lying. It has nothing to do with my behavior so much as…" She made eye contact with him. "...what I am."

A pause before the Warden spoke again. His brow lifted as his head slowly shook. "It's out of my hands. Soon you'll be somebody else's problem."

"Am I being released?"

"You're being moved. A dropship arrives one hour from now, and I've been ordered to hand you over to them." His eyes met hers. "No games, no shenanigans, no escape attempts during the handover, or you will be shot. Do I make myself clear?"

"That you do. I'm sure you can't wait to get rid of a scary, awful creature like myself," she had a mocking tone as the guards grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet to walk her out of the office.

---

Valerian Mengsk, Emperor of the Terran Dominion stood at a podium above an assembly of hundreds of people. They were the members of the Dominion's Grand Parliament, representing its many subject worlds. Though the Dominion was an autocracy in which power was concentrated to one individual, the Grand Parliament allowed its worlds to publicly voice their concerns and interests, and had a significant say in legislating the policies that effected them.

Another group, off to the side, made a recording and transcript of everything said in these sessions to which the public would have access.

Valerian Mengsk spoke to them: "The Intelligence Service has confirmed beyond a reasonable doubt that a fleet is inbound to the Koprulu Sector from Earth's sphere of influence, and that they'll arrive within one month."

The room rumbled with a din of everybody speaking, Valerian quieted them with a raised hand. He continued. "There is no reason to think their intentions are any less hostile than their invasion during the Brood War. Because of this, I am activating the Emergency Mobilization edict."

"The Member from the Planet Canton objects." As an aide announced this, an elderly man of oriental appearance rose to his feet.
"You're recognized." The Emperor said. "Speak your objection, Konrad Matsudaira."

Matsudaira spoke. "While it would be naive to call the period following the End War one of peace, it has nonetheless been free of major conflict between interstellar powers. Our worlds have thrived as a result; the peoples' standard of living has risen, including that of Canton. War with Earth; with our fellow humans, would undo all of that progress. For the sake of continued unity of Humanity against alien menaces; the call which founded our Dominion under the late Arcturus Mengsk, I would urge the Emperor to consider war with Earth a last resort, and to first reach out with an open hand."

Many of the Members nodded along with what Matsudaira said.

"I have heard the argument of the Member from the Planet Canton, and will acquiesce." The Emperor said. "Once communications are established with the Earth fleet, I will offer terms of a truce, and cooperation…" He continued, "however, while one hand is offered to them open, the other will remain armed. It would be dereliction of my duty to defend this Dominion and its people if I were not to take every precaution. The Emergency Mobilization edict will nonetheless be activated. The megafactories on the core worlds will once again be reoriented toward military production, and all worlds will be required to make three percent of their population available for military service. It is my hope that these measures are unneeded, but should the worst come to pass, we must all be ready to defend our nation."

---

Nobody spoke to Syrenne or explained anything to her when she was escorted to an armored train leading to New Folsom's distant starport, and then aboard an unmarked dropship. After several minutes of zero gravity aboard the dropship, she heard it land and felt the artificial gravity of a larger vessel come into effect.

When she walked down a ramp into a ship hangar, she was greeted by a familiar face; a female ghost in a white HEV suit with blonde hair and a perpetually stoic face; Nova Terra. "You can lose the disguise." She said. "My crew already knows what you are."

"I'm not allowed, and I don't think you can authorize otherwise." Syrenne said. "Hope you don't mind if I play it safe."

Nova rolled her eyes as she walked close. "Fine, but let me at least get this crap off you." She grabbed Syrenne's hand and started cutting the worm gear clamps holding the metal caps on her fingers. The caps fell off one by one, revealing normal fingernails. She did this for both hands, and then cut the strap holding the muzzle to her head.

Syrenne made a big, stretching yawn once the muzzle was gone, revealing a set of normal human teeth. "That feels good, thanks."

"The Warden deemed you a risk?"

"Wouldn't exactly look good if there was a prison fight and somebody got laid up with lacerations and chunks missing."

"I've been told you were sent to the mines seventeen times."

"I had a good time in there. Lot of noise and bustle; it reminded me of home."

"Walk with me." Nova said as they headed to a corridor. "Do you know what's going on?"

"No idea. Am I being released?"

"You're being drafted soon. An Earth fleet's been spotted weeks away from our space, and the Emperor is prepping for war."

"Nice to know I'm needed."

"It's not that simple. High Command still considers you more of a liability than an asset, that's why you're headed to a trial period. Are you familiar with the Haven Republic?"

"A bunch of Terrans trying to have a silly 'representative government' on a green planet near Protoss space, right?"

"They became a protectorate under the Dominion, and it's where your parole is going to be set."

"Describe parole to me."

Nova looked at her quickly, betraying a feeling of surprise. "I see… You wouldn't have learned about such a thing…"

"I'm guessing that I'll be set loose, but with restrictions?"

"Yeah, that's accurate." Nova stopped at a door and opened it with a button press. It was a changing room with mirrors, dressers, sinks and closets.

"There's clothes in there. Get out of that prison jumpsuit and into something civilian-looking."

"What if I don't find anything I like?" Syrenne had a crooked smirk.

Nova's head shook. "This room is where undercover operatives put on their disguises. It has damn near everything."

"I'll be the judge of that." Syrenne said, smirking as she went in.

She came out wearing a black 3-piece pantsuit with an undervest and no tie. Her hair had been combed back behind her ears, leaving a single large bang on the side.

Nova was visibly amused at this. "Went right for the most expensive stuff."

Syrenne shrugged innocently. "It looks good, what can I say?"

They resumed walking as Nova spoke. "It's Giuseppe-Lorent designed, very upper class. David Kuraski wears the same brand."

Syrenne's face sobered abruptly. "I did not know that when I picked it… What happened to ol' David anyway?"

"He's being investigated for his role in the Neo-Hybrid Crisis. It won't be long before he sees the inside of a prison cell."

"That's… saddening."

"He tried to kill you and orchestrated events that led to your exile."

"Yeah, but now I might never get the chance to prove that I'm better than him."

"I see you're as childish as ever." Nova brought them to another door leading to the bridge and opened it with a button press.

"Nova me old mate, I've lost my home, best friend, status and freedom. There's not much left after that, so I'd like to at least hang on to my petty rivalries."

"Long as you're aware…" They stopped next to a star map.

"So," Syrenne said. "How are they gonna spin my release? I'm still pretty famous."

"They aren't. You're Psychic Asset Fifteen. Your real self is still in prison."

"Ah, so no revealing myself and waving to the cameras."

"Yeah, try not to do that."

"Commander." A bridge officer said. "Warp space jump calculations are complete."

"Proceed." Nova said. She and Syrenne grabbed on to railings as the ship rumbled and jolted lightly from entering warp space.

"What are the terms of my parole?" Syrenne said.

"When we land, you'll be introduced to a handler who will explain the details. The idea is that if you can live around humans for a while and not make trouble, the people in charge won't consider you so dangerous. Haven was chosen for this as not to put Dominion citizens at supposed risk."

"They don't care as much if something happens to a Havener?"

"It's more that most Haveners are armed and won't take shit. Its population are war refugees who've endured attacks from all over."

Syrenne snickered. "So they're treated as a dumping ground for people like me? Haven and the Dominion must be best buds."

"They need our trade and protection pact, so they're amenable to our wishes."

"Makes sense I suppose…" Syrenne trailed, looking away. She switched to telepathy. "I have to ask, and don't want to ask in a way your crew can hear…"
"What is it?" Nova said telepathically.

"Do you have… Hard feelings, over what happened?"

Nova shrugged. "It's in the past."

"Nobody actually thinks like that, Nova. Yes or no?"

Nova exhaled. "I'd prefer to keep it professional…"

"If it were no, you'd have said no by now."

Nova was groaning. "You're not going to let this go, are you…"

"Definitely not."

"You fucked up." Nova said. "And it compromised the security of the Throne World, causing mass mayhem, death, and brought us closer to a hot war with Zagara."

Syrenne's eyes were shut. "Go on."

Nova inhaled. "Kuraski is more at fault than you, sure, but he's not somebody I showed trust and leniency toward. I felt like a fool for thinking you knew what you were doing and things would turn out fine."

Syrenne's mouth opened to speak–

"But." Nova interrupted. "You're taking the best possible course to make it right again."

Syrenne smirked at this as she looked at the star map. "Well… Yeah! I mean, of course I'm doing the correct thing. Why wouldn't I?"

Nova's eyes rolled.

The capital of the Haven Republic was situated in a fortified range of mountains, with level surfaces for streets and structures cut out in winding strips, and just as many buildings being carved out inside the rock.

The city's starport was near one of the summits, and sat atop a towering network of steel lattices.

It was late evening, with the sun creeping out of view.

A dropship landed at this port. Syrenne and Nova came out of its hold.

"Your parole begins now." Nova said as she handed Syrenne a tablet. "Keep this with you at all times, and report to your handler within one standard cycle."

"And my identity?" Syrenne said.

"Your name is Syrenne Cromford, you were sent to New Folsom for unsanctioned use of psionic powers and failure to register said powers, and your enrollment to the psi academy here is a condition of your parole. Consult the tablet for details and commit them to memory."

Another voice, in the distance. "Get, out, of my way." It came closer.

They were approached by a dark-skinned, annoyed-looking young woman in baggy pants and a loose-fitting flannel shirt, followed closely by a smaller blonde woman in dark gray jeans and turtleneck, and with a controlled, unreadably polite face.

"Agent Hai, Agent Ashton." Nova greeted. "You're not supposed to be seen with me."

The small blonde spoke. "Constance insisted upon greeting 'the new girl,' while I insistently cautioned her against it."

"Right," Constance said sarcastically. "So rude of me, yes." She walked up to Syrenne and circled her with the motions of a shark circling flotsam. "Dressed pretty well for a convict. You a crime boss or something?"

Nova spoke. "She was–"
Syrenne cut her off. "Nova here let me have my pick from her disguise room. I liked the way this looked, that's all."

Nova calmed, visibly content with what Syrenne said, and it not compromising her cover.

Constance put a hand on Syrenne's shoulder, smiling lightly. "You do look sharp. Now, I have some questions for you."

"They'll have to wait." Syrenne walked past her. "I've been in space for fourteen hours and am quite tired." A lie. "I want to find my handler, then whatever lodging is arranged."

"That's me, and I can take you there." Casa Ashton, the short blonde said quickly.

"Hold on, now. Before you run off I want at least one question answered." Constance said.

"Pass. We can talk tomorrow." Syrenne said as she and Casa walked away.

A shifting in the air, Syrenne's ears picked it up. She turned as her hand snapped to snatch a knit ball filled with beads which had been flying at her head.
Constance straightened from the posture of having thrown it. "I've got an answer." She walked past Syrenne, bringing her face close. "I'll, see you, soon."

Once Constance was gone, Syrenne turned to Nova. "Is that one going to be trouble?"

"Not as long as she doesn't learn the truth." Nova said as she looked at Casa. "She's in your hands now, Agent Ashton."

Casa and Syrenne took a lift to the lower city and went to a truck.

"No no no." Casa said as Syrenne climbed into the truck's bucket. "You sit in the cab with me."

"What for?"

"A variety of reasons, prime of which is we're not going to draw attention to you."

"Listen... Casa, was it?"

"Correct. And I'll not tell you twi–"

"You've got a job, and it's to radio your bosses on occasion to tell them I've been a good girl. That doesn't mean you give me orders."

"Why are you acting like this? How hard can it be to enter the cab?"

"Don't like 'em." Syrenne said as she leaned back on the rear cab window. "They smell, and I can't stretch my limbs."

Casa exhaled, annoyed as she got into the driver's seat. "Brat… This is going in my report."

As Casa started the engine, put the truck in gear and pulled out of the lot, Syrenne pulled the rear window open and squatted down to talk. "I'm hungry. Let's stop to eat on the way."

"No." Casa said flatly.

"C'mon, why not? You like food, don't you?"

Casa shook with agitation. "Yes, of course I do."

"And I do as well! Where's the impasse?"

"The impasse is you being a brat and refusing to ride in the cab."

"Hold on… You're mad about that? You went along with it though."

"Because I wasn't going to argue with you like a child."

"But you feel so strongly about it. Maybe you should have tried harder to stop me."

Casa inhaled sharply, her fingernails digging into the steering wheel. Then, seconds later, she exhaled calmly. "...You're right. I should not be involving personal feelings in my work."

"Perfect!" A bang and slight rock as Syrenne plopped to sit down in the bucket, her back against the cab. "I like cola, donuts and meat. Take us to a place with those."

---

Alexei Stukov was an infested Terran of considerable power, free will and who led a subculture of infested Terrans within Overqueen Zagara's empire. He often came to Char, despite his headquarters being on the zerg-controlled Planet Corvus.

Though in recent days, he came far less often.

"You there." He spotted a broodmother inside the central hive. "Where's Zagara?"

"I do not know the Overqueen's physical whereabouts, other than being on Char. She does not wish us to know."

"When did you see her last?"

"Eight cycles ago. She toured the caverns beneath this hive cluster."

Stukov eventually found Zagara in a chamber containing a large khaydarin crystal. Her eyes were shut as she faced the crystal.

"It's not like you to be hiding like a fox." Stukov said as he parked himself 2 feet away from the Overqueen, facing her from the side.

"If your purpose here lacks urgency, then leave me." Zagara said neutrally.

"It has to do with a possibly imminent war. You're aware of the Earth fleet that's coming?"

Zagara indicated the khaydarin crystal, which could be used to boost the range of psionic communication and clairvoyance. "I have sensed it, yes."

He raised a hand palm upward. "Not a priority for you?"

"The Swarm is prepared for war, should we be their first target."

"And that's enough for you is it? Pah." He paced away. "You're not concerned I might defect to their side, given my origins?"

"I am not. Your existence with the Swarm is more tolerable for you than it would be among humans."

"What about the Dominion and Earth forming a cute little alliance to crush you?"

"That is also not a concern. Both sides are too prideful to unify on equal terms."

"Ah, so everything is fine and I should just leave you to your stewing?"

"I am pleased you comprehend my will."

Stukov was still faced away from her. "It's the little one, correct?"

A pause before Zagara spoke. "I initially wished to…" She stopped. "...That is unimportant now. She must grow through adversity, I cannot shield her from it. That is the only way my daughter will find existence as a zerg."

"It doesn't feel right though, does it?"

"Feelings are tools. When they do not serve their purpose, they must be ignored."

"I won't tell you how to parent…" Stukov turned to leave. "Though you could always just give it another shot; make another kid."

Zagara's head turned to look at him as he walked away.

---

Syrenne savored the last chunk of meat on her wooden pick, reading her own false ID information on her tablet as Casa's truck pulled in to a dormitory at the edge of a small farming town. The sun had fully set. "That was good. I might go back there…"

"With what credits?" Casa said as she got out of the truck. "You think I'm going to take you out to eat as a habit?"

"Eh, I'll figure out credits. That part's easy."

"Listen…" Casa said as Syrenne hopped out of the bucket. "I feel we may have gotten off on the wrong foot."

"Mm?" Syrenne's eyes were wide; curious. "How do you figure?"

"I believe I'm going to be your handler for quite some while, so we should make an effort to get along."

"It's all good, we're friends."

Casa's eyes twitched. "Friends? Already? Just like that?"

"Well yeah." Syrenne's face broke into a smile. "You bought me food and gave me a ride. That's solid friend stuff right there."

"Hm, I suppose you thinking that way suits my purposes."

"Glad you agree."

A young man was waiting for them by the entrance to the dormitory. He held a beverage in a plastic cup with a straw.

"Hello there," Syrenne said. "Who are you?"

"Marcus," he said. "And you must be the new cadet in our little psi academy."

"Correct!" Syrenne said. "What can I do for ya, Marcus?"

"It's simple." Marcus walked close to her.

Casa was silent.

Marcus spoke with his face close to Syrenne's. "We can get along famously. You just need to understand some rules."

"I'm fine with rules." Syrenne shrugged.

"Good. First rule: What I say in the academy, goes."

The air had changed. What was a casual chat had suddenly become a confrontation, and Marcus' taller figure had become an imposition over Syrenne.

Syrenne's brow lifted. "You must be confused. That's a privilege, not a rule."

"Call it whatever you want." Marcus held up his middle, ring and pinky fingers. "I give every new student three chances to stay on my good side–"

Just as he said this, Syrenne reached under and swatted his drink out of his other hand. It hit the ground and the lid popped off, spilling its contents over the concrete walkway.

Casa remained silent. Marcus made a jolting, aggressive motion like he was about to strike.

Syrenne didn't react to his movement. "Was that one of the chances? Or can we just skip to all three?"

After a moment of glowering at her, he walked past. "I'll be watching you."

"Loving the attention!" She called after as he walked away.

After Marcus left, Casa broke her silence. "Well, it seems you're integrating into the local populace quite nicely."

"You know that guy?"

"Yes." They walked together into the dormitory. "Marcus is a bit of a problem child. His family situation is rather complicated."

"I can relate to messed up family stuff, but what does he think subjugating his peers will gain him?"

"Validation, a sense of control over his life and an outlet for emotions he was forced to bottle up."

"I relate to that too, and those are the exact reasons I like making friends. Funny that he does the opposite."

They reached door #25 in the dormitory building. Casa opened it with a metal key, then handed the key to Syrenne. "Your residence. If there's anything you need, run it by me and I'll make arrangements."

Syrenne accepted the key. "A class two… No, I think three biological research suite, a Daisy-Merelyn brand gauss shotgun and fifty thousand credits."

Casa was unfazed by these requests. "I'll convey that to requisitions, but the answer will be a likely 'no.'"

Syrenne nodded. "No limit on the mess I can make in this room?"

"As long as it doesn't compromise your cover."

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You'll report to the Academy at six hundred hours tomorrow."

"I don't need psi training, Casa."

"That isn't the point. You're to jump through the hoops we present to you in order to prove your compliance to our wishes."

"I'd serve your precious Dominion a lot better if I'm thinking for myself."

"Then think of a way to do that within the confines we set for you."

Syrenne shrugged. "Suppose I don't have a choice…"

"I'm glad you understand."

Casa left, and Syrenne was left alone in her apartment. She rubbed her hands together. "Right then, where's the water dispenser…"

A knock on the door.

Syrenne exhaled, inflating her cheeks as she opened it.

It was Constance.

"You weren't kidding when you said soon." Syrenne said.

"Can I come in?" Constance said flatly.

Syrenne shrugged and stepped back from the door without shutting it.

"That a yes?"

"It's a yes."

She came in and took a seat at the small dinner table. "In case it wasn't clear before, I'm protective of my community. You could say I consider them sheep, and myself the sheep dog. Do you understand my meaning?"

"I understand your metaphor, yeah." Syrenne said as she went to the kitchen sink and lowered her head to drink from its tap.

"Not… gonna put that in a glass?" Constance said quizzically

Syrenne stared blankly at Constance for a long moment

Constance shrugged it off. "Anyway, I'm here to make my position to you clear."

"You've got my ear." Syrenne plopped into the seat opposite Constance and slouched like a cat.

"I don't know where you come from, or why exactly you're here, and frankly, we don't delve too deep into that stuff around these parts. Haven is a place where folks find fresh starts, new chapters in their lives, maybe even redemption. For all we know, whatever bad things they did was unfortunately normal in whatever dystopian heap they came from."

"I'm sensing a twist…" Syrenne quipped.

"However."

"Yep, there it is."

"However!" Constance repeated. "Like a good guard dog, I'm obliged to greet the visitors."

"You here to accuse me of something?"

"I'm here to set the scene for you. This republic isn't heavy handed like the Dominion, but we still take our laws and public order seriously."

"And what are you gonna do if I commit a dastardly mischief? Tell on me?"

Constance held up a hand with the elbow resting on the table. Its index finger and thumb were extended. "Tell me something, Syrenne: Have you ever seen a human manipulate energy with their psionic abilities?"

"Nope, just protoss and zerg."

Constance nodded. "Ghosts have implants in their heads to keep their powers from going crazy. It has the added perk of tracking them and ensuring obedience."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that. Humans take a lot of steps to ensure obedience."

"Not me though…" Constance said. "I was never implanted, never mucked with. My psionic abilities…" An arc of blue electricity appeared briefly between her finger and thumb tips. "...Are all natural."

This wasn't swagger, or bravado. Syrenne had a keen sense of people, their intentions, their motives, what they'd be willing or unwilling to do.

And this twenty-something had weathered, embattled eyes that lacked patience for games. The middle finger of her raised hand lifted, and a new arc of electricity traveled between the raised tips. A loud clicking noise erupted from outside the door.

The lights in the dorm room went dark.

The slightest sliding of metal on leather.

The loud click of a metal mechanism.

Their eyes adjusted to the darkness. A blade was held to Syrenne's neck.

A pistol was held to Constance's face.

They remained like this for multiple long seconds, and silently, slowly withdrew their weapons.

"...Well then," Constance said with a tone of astonishment. "I think I've taken a liking to you."

"You take a liking to people who aim a gun at you?"

"People who have a backbone." Constance rose from her seat. "I'll see you tomorrow. And don't worry about the power. I mucked with the breaker to your room, and will reset it on my way out."

---

When Syrenne, having changed out of her suit and into more common civvies, reported to Haven's psi academy at 6:00AM, she was handed a schedule and shown out the office. She then promptly ignored this schedule and asked people in sequence where to find a student named Marcus.

"He has psi conditioning at six thirty." The third student she asked said.

"Where's that?"

"The gym."

Syrenne walked into the gym, past a row of teenagers with strong psionic presences who were sitting on mats, meditating and sweating, and found Marcus doing the same. "Hey, you need to come with me."

Marcus seemed to recognize her voice, because he shot to his feet and glared at her. "What do you want, brat?"

"Can I help you with something?" The deep voice of a middle-aged man. Facing the students at an instructor's spot was one of the most shapely terrans Syrenne had ever seen. He had an almost square shaped face, and muscles whose visible hardness could only have come from a lifetime of regular strain. Metal holes on his bare arms denoted the use of power armor; he was likely a former soldier.

"Somebody who works here asked me to fetch Marcus." Syrenne said to the middle-aged instructor. "I assume he's in trouble over something."

Marcus' eyes darted to hers, then to the Instructor's.

The Instructor was unfazed. "Who, and why?"

Of course, no nonsense. This man wanted specifics. It's a good thing the first lie she told was vague. "The Janitor, Hickens."

"The Janitor." The Instructor stated flatly.

"Yeah, as for why, he was ranting about Marcus' bathroom hygiene, and wanted to have a word with him."

The Instructor stared at Syrenne for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Syrenne maintained perfect calm.

"...Alright, make it quick."

Marcus was frowning at this, but didn't say anything as Syrenne led him out of the gymnasium and into a deserted hallway.

"I don't know what game you're playing." Marcus said as they stopped and faced each other. "But it's not amusing."

"So…" Syrenne said, looking at the ceiling in thought. "You're the big strong student here, throws his weight around, has a gang of cronies at his beck and call, no?"

"That's right." He was nodding as he leaned over her. "And whatever Constance might have filled your head with last night, you can be assured it's pure horseshit. In these walls…" He pointed to his own face. "I'm the boss, and everybody knows it."

Syrenne was nodding. "Good. I need one of those working for me."

Marcus' dumbstruck expression lasted only a second, then twisted into disgust. "You're just determined to make it as bad as possible for yourself, aren't you?"

Syrenne offered him a credit chit. "I believe this is yours."

He snatched it. "And what's this, your rent money?"

"It's five thousand credits."

This made Marcus sober; it was unlikely he'd held half that many credits on a single chit in his life. "Alright…" He said as he looked at the chain code on the chit and confirmed it to be in the 4-figure range. "You wanna pay me off, we can work something out."

Syrenne was relaxed, leaning on the wall and smirking. "Your buddies, they're all psychic?"

"Every student here is at least a little bit psychic."

"Good. I need eyes and ears on this planet and they'll work nicely."

"No, no, no…" Marcus had shifted to amusement. "You misunderstand. All you've bought with this is a reprieve."

"Marcus, right now you're looking at more than just five thousand credits; you're looking at an opportunity. I have plans, and this is your chance to get in on them early."

"What plans?"

"I was filthy rich before being locked up. Credits are quite useful, and I intend to accumulate more." She pointed toward a window taking up an entire wall of the hallway. "As we speak, I've arranged an off-the-grid mining operation on the other side of the Freydis Mountains where nobody's settled because the land is rocky and the wildlife crazy."

Marcus was staring into her. No more swagger or condescension; now he was genuinely intrigued. "Your clothes last night… and you only just got turned loose, yet you had access to five thousand…"

"You understand! Now, head back to your class, and tell the instructor that the Janitor had you scrub a few toilets as a disciplinary measure."

Marcus' mouth twisted as he pocketed the credit chit and walked past her. "I'll be in touch."

Syrenne watched him leave. Good, he ate the carrot. Now to prepare the stick.

---

As Syrenne strolled through the academy, she was stopped by the muscular middle-aged instructor she saw at the gymnasium earlier. "You," he said. "A word in here." He indicated an empty presentation room.

"Okay, what can I do for y–" Syrenne stopped when he flipped a loud switch that turned off the room lights and fired on a projector.

"The Battle of Char Aleph," he said as the projector played a simulated representation of large-scale military maneuvers atop the space platform. "A painful lesson in the value of maneuver warfare, in which the zerg took advantage of their enemies' lack of coordination–"

"You wanted to talk about historical battles?"

He flipped the projector to a different digital re-creation. "The second battle of Char, where it's believed those hard-learnt lessons were put to their most prominent use. Though there's a counter-theory that Commander Raynor was simply chaining together tactical decisions moment by moment, and this resulted in effective maneuver warfare."

"I subscribe to the theory that Raynor was just good at winging it. But you still haven't told me what this is getting to–"
The instructor flicked a pencil at Syrenne without looking at her.

She caught it in the air with one hand, becoming more agitated. "I don't even know your name!"

"Mullen, Rodney Mullen."

"Okay, Mullen, Listen, I'm a busy gal, so…"

He walked close to her, then circled around. "I can't read your mind…"

"Everybody in this academy really is a teep, eh?"

"Lot of teeps came here to Haven to hide from the wranglers. But that's beside the point. Who taught you how to guard your mind?"

"My mom."

"Who is your mother?"

"None of your business." She nodded upward. "Now as it so happens, military history is a favorite topic of mine, but I have stuff on my plate and prepwork to do, so you can just…" She gestured with her hands, stepping toward the door. "Be strange without me."

"Who are you?"

"A convict on parole." Syrenne said with an easy smile.

"Yes, but… what, are you?"

A pause. Syrenne frowned, looking back at him with a hand holding the door open to leave. "What do I look like to you?" She went through the door and shut it behind her.

Fjellhavn, the Haven capital had an industrial district at the lower levels of its mountain slope, far from the elevated wealthy and government districts.

Syrenne had come to this district to ascertain the demand for raw minerals, and found multiple steel mills and precision fabrication plants that would be consuming them. Perfect! She would speak to their managers one by one.

"Look out!" Someone shouted.

Heavy metallic steps. Syrenne's head snapped left. An SCV, blinded by the container it was hauling, was coming right at her.
Her body stiffened with brief shock and embarrassment as she bolted out of the way. "Sorry!" She shouted.

"Watch where you're going!"

Syrenne exhaled as she ran fingers back through her hair. As she continued on she sensed another mind in the industrial district; a telepath.
It was located in an elevated office of a steel mill.

That would be her first target.

"I'm here for a reason." She said easily to anybody who stopped her, or asked what she was doing in the steel mill walking straight to the administrative office. That was enough to placate them; the steel workers were surprisingly laid back.

When she walked unannounced into the manager's office, she was surprised to find a big, muscular man whose facial features were identical to Mullen's.

"Mullen?" She said, surprise in her tone.

The big man pinched his glasses between two meaty fingers and took them off. "Yes?"

"How are you a school instructor as well as a steel guy? Doesn't seem like there'd be enough time in the day."

Mullen's head shook. "You've mistaken me for my twin, Rodney. I'm Blake Mullen. Now who are you?"

"Syrenne Cromford, pleased to meet you." She said as she went to his desk and extended a hand.

Mullen didn't take it. "Why are you here?"

Syrenne smirked, withdrew her hand and shifted it to a pointing gesture. "Rest assured I'm here for a reason-"
"What reason?" Annoyance entered the edges of Mullen's voice.

"How much do you pay for raw minerals?" Syrenne said quickly.

"Right now minerals are 3550 a tonne."

"That include the shipping cost?"

"No."

"What if I were to tell you that I can offer you minerals at 2500 a tonne?"

"I'd ask how the hell you got minerals by the tonne. Youngins like you don't tend to run mining ops."

Syrenne was pacing. "I'm a youngin who does, and can guarantee that the minerals aren't stolen, smuggled, swindled…" She twirled a hand in the air. "Nobody will come looking for them is my point. They're mined good and honestly by my own people."

The big man had sobered, his brow resting with thought. "You must be a psi cadet if you know my brother. Where exactly do you find the time to run a mining operation?"

Syrenne leaned 90 degrees down over Mullen's desk, smiling. "I am very good at delegating."

"And how are you in business with prices that low?"

"I'm also good at lowering costs." She stood straight. "And to build confidence, I'll require no advance on the first five shipments."

Now it was Mullen who extended a hand. Syrenne took it. "We'll give it a shot."

---

Three Days Later

Just outside the Academy, Constance spotted Marcus and two of his friends approaching one of their usual targets: A boy a full head shorter and than them named Paul.

"Paul! Not trying to sneak off, are you?" Marcus' voice.

Constance exhaled with annoyance and headed toward the scene. Marcus had yet to notice her.

Paul emitted a forced laugh. "Of course not Marcus. Why would I do that?"

"It just seemed strange to me that you're running off early, and before our usual meetup time." Marcus' friends snickered as he talked. He put an arm over Paul's shoulders and leaned close. "Aren't we… friends, anymore, Paul?" His voice had lowered to a near whisper.

"I'm– I'm sorry, Marcus. Please just… Let's be cool, okay?"

"Marcus!" Constance said. "Just the mewling dog was looking for."

Marcus stood straight and looked at her.

"They say you can accurately judge a man's strength by the adversary he chooses." Constance said.

Marcus shoved Paul into his two friends, who grabbed and restrained him. "There something you want, Hai?"

"Many things, but we can start with making your bruised, whimpering mass lay at my feet."

"You know, I like to be reasonable, Constance, but when you talk that way It doesn't leave a lot of options."
Constance grinned, eyes wide. "Good, make my day, asshole."

The last time Constance and Marcus fought, they were both covered in bruises, cuts and minor bone fractures.

Marcus leaned close to Constance. "You and I both know it isn't worth it. This…" He aimed a hand at Paul. "Weakling."

"You misunderstand. I'm just looking for a good time."

"Fucking psycho bitch." One of Marcus' friends muttered.

"Speak up so people can hear you, dog." Constance said.

"See, that's the difference between you and me." Marcus said. "You're bogged down by little details and… people."

"Is that why you're running your mouth instead of making a choice?" Constance said. "Walk away, or fight me. Those are your options."

A long, silent staredown.

"...This is a waste of time." Marcus signaled his friends to let Paul go. "We're leaving."

When Marcus and his friends were gone, Paul walked up to Constance, looking off nervously. "Umm… Thank you for that. Marcus always picks on–"
"No…" Constance was pinching her brow. "This is just tape on the wound. He's gonna come back for you another time, and I might not be there."

"Well… You'll always be around to keep Marcus in check, right?"

Constance became visibly irritated. "Paul listen. Marcus isn't the last bully you're gonna come across in your life, and he sure as hell won't be the worst. You have to stop being such a pussy."

"And what, kick his ass?" Paul was frowning now. "I'm not strong like you guys…" His voice elevated. "My PI is only five, and I've had health issues most of my life! You're telling me to–"

"Shut the fuck up!" Constance interrupted, a visceral anger boiling to the surface. "That kind of attitude is a fucking magnet, Paul. It draws the kind of people who smell weakness and jump on it. Hell, even I get the urge to just put you into the ground when you act like this." She tried to bite back her next words, turning away and lowering her voice and mumbling. "...prey animal."

Paul's chin wrinkled as his brow twitched. He wiped his eyes with a sleeve as he turned away. "...thanks again, Constance." He muttered in a low, broken voice as he left.

Now alone on the school lawn, Constance exhaled. "A real… 'fuckin' psycho bitch' aren't you, Constance…" She muttered to herself. She gently slapped her own cheeks with both hands. "There are better ways to get your point across, Constance. Keep your shit together."

"Constance." Syrenne's voice, only a few feet away.

Constance jumped at this. "What the hell! I didn't sense you."

"Yeah, you seem distracted…" Syrenne quipped as she walked past Constance and then circled her in restless motions as she stared upward, visibly thinking. "Things are going smoothly so far, but I'm going to need help on a little expedition."

"Wha– Slow down. What's going smoothly, and what expedit–"

"I'm getting what I need together on this planet." Syrenne stopped stared at her blankly.

"And what does that entail–"

"So the expedition," Syrenne said, once again pacing around Constance and staring upward. "I sense feral zerg about two hundred kilometers south of town. I need to go there and get proof they exist."

"How do you sense zerg that far away–"

"I'm good at it; call it a gift. The point is I can't prove the zerg are there, and that's where I need help." She held up a tablet. "Casa's tracking my location through this thing, and I'm not allowed to leave it at home. I need somebody to carry it with them and imitate my routine while I'm away."

"Hold right up. You can find some gullible dummy to carry your tablet around."

"Ohh." Syrenne had a half-cocked smirk. "Has she figured out why I came to her?"

Constance huffed with amusement. "If there's zerg on Haven, and you're scouting them out, then I'm coming with you."

Syrenne lifted an eyebrow. "I don't know, you might not be able to keep up."

Constance grinned with no gaiety. "Try me."

"We're not taking a vehicle. I don't own one and borrowing one creates a loose end Casa could look into."

"I could use a good run."

"I run very fast."

"Good."

As they spoke, they leaned closer, staring each other down.

"Splendid!" Syrenne said as she stood straight. "Twenty one hundred hours tonight at the fuel station with the flower logo at the edge of town." She walked past Constance, who said nothing.

---

Brink's refueling station at the edge of town had a flower symbol on the crown of its roof, and at the top of its road sign, which is the feature Syrenne most remembered when seeing it on the way to her apartment with Casa the previous night.

When Constance arrived at 21:00, Syrenne offered her a six-pack of energy drinks. "We don't sleep until we get back to town. Want some?"
Constance shook her head. "I'm good. Let's get this recon done."

"Suit yourself," Syrenne said as she shrugged and pulled the aluminum cap off one of the glass bottles with her teeth and chugged the drink. "They give a nice buzz, you sure?"

"The crash it gives me later is distracting. Are we going?"

Syrenne nodded as she put down the six-pack and picked up one more bottle in her free hand. A long bag hung from her shoulder by a strap. "Yeah." She broke into a run, heading into the grassy hills. Constance followed at the same speed.

Syrenne looked at her as they ran. "So you've learned to use your psi to enhance your physical abilities?"
"I've trained more than most my age. Most would say too much."

"Your psi index?"
"Don't know," Constance said. "Never had it tested. You?"

"Me either."
"So you're all natural like me?"

"Yeah, you could say that." Syrenne said.

"Well come on, then. What kind of tricks do you know? I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
"Like my ability to sense zerg?"

"Nah, but I would like to learn that. Show me something I haven't seen."

"I can run a lot faster than this."

"Perfect." Constance crouched, then sprang into a bounding leap over the flowing grassy hills. She propelled herself again with the next landing. "Hop to it, Syrenne! You have to lead the way with your zerg sense!"

Syrenne beamed at this display as she escalated into a full sprint, making rapid, consistently propelling adhesions on the ground that pulled ahead of Constance's showy leaps.

---

Valerian Mengsk and his cabinet were in closed-door conference with a 3D projection of Hierarch Artanis of the Daelaam. The tall, imposing alien was speaking. "My people consider your imminent conflict to be no different from other Terran disputes, and have no wish to involve themselves. All I can offer you is a guarantee of neutrality."

"Understood," the Emperor said. "And what will your response be should Zagara enter the war?"

"The presence of the Earth fleet changes the situation, and I can make no promises. The Twilight Council are… revisiting our prior agreements."

"Underestimating the zerg has cost both our people dearly in the past, Hierarch."

"Were I to have my will, we would both have attacked Zagara the day she declared herself ruler of the Swarm. But my people are indecisive. They do not wish to jeopardize all that we've won."

"Hierarch, if the Directorate fleet makes war on the Dominion, and Zagara takes advantage of the turmoil to invade Terran space, that will remain your best opportunity to strike her worlds."
"I concur," Artanis said. "And will do all in my power to persuade the Twilight Council of this."

---

Marcus, the academy bully Syrenne bribed into compliance was given a message detailing a job:

First task. Compensation: 1500 credits.

You're to collect my tablet from locker 228 at the Academy. Combination: 19-11-55. Once it's in your possession, you're to keep it with you throughout your classes, then spend one hour at the grocery store, one hour in the vicinity of Constance's house, and the rest of that time meandering about town. At 20:00 hours you're to drop the tablet off at my apartment; room number 25, second floor.

After this, your task will be complete, and you can collect your money from the dead drop: A cardboard package under the toolbox in the utility closet of my dormitory.

Do not collect the money before you've completed the job.

Marcus laughed out loud when he read the last part. The dumb bitch seriously told him where the money was before he'd done anything. He headed straight for the dormitory building Syrenne was staying at, and entered the utility closet. The toolbox was behind the open door, and he had to shut it behind him to get to the toolbox.

The small cardboard box under the toolbox was taped to the floor, but he was able to tear it free.

The door latched shut.

The closet lights went dark.

Marcus felt his stomach sink as though filled with rocks. His gratified expression sobered cold.

The dark room filled with an odorous gas that smelled faintly of mustard. His heart pounded with panic as he tried to pull the door open. It didn't budge. He was a psychic who'd learnt enhanced strength and speed, and used this to yank on the handle. It tore out without effecting the locking bolt.

In a panicked rage, he threw a punch into the door. It left a loud dent, but also caused him to instinctively inhale.
The gas filled his mouth and throat with a spiny, mustard-like sensation that caused him to cough and collapse to the floor. Tears welled up in his eyes; was he going to die here?

A light appeared on the back wall from a miniature projector on the ledge of the toolbox which he hadn't noticed before. It projected an image on the wall showing Syrenne, standing with hands behind her back in her apartment room. She spoke: "If you came here and grabbed the box, it means you deliberately disobeyed my instructions, Marcus."

"Fuck you!" He pushed the words through his sleeve, which muffled his mouth and nose as he tried not to cough uncontrollably.

"Don't bother, this is a pre-recorded message." The projection of Syrenne said. "It's important for you to understand what it means to disobey me. You took my money, agreed to enter my employment, and so I expected you to honor that commitment. But now you've made this necessary."

His heart was pounding. He was in over his head. At this point he didn't care about the money, or outsmarting Syrenne. He was just terrified for his own life. "I'm sorry…" He mumbled, even knowing it was a recorded message and he was talking to nobody. "Please…"

There was no answer, no change. Syrenne's face on the projection remained coldly blank, coldly watching him die. In his panicked delirium, Marcus felt the world blur out and shut his eyes.

"...Alright, perhaps you've had enough." The recording said after a long half-minute.

He heard the door unlatch and scrambled to his feet to pull it open and run out of the closet.
"Hold up!" The recording said.

He stopped, partly due to lingering fear, and partly due to curiosity as he looked back into the closet.

The projection continued. "The gas was a harmless mist containing mustard extract, and if you desire a second chance, my tablet will tell you the true dead drop location once you've performed your task." The projection vanished, and the tiny projector started exuding smoke.

Fuck… fuck… "Fuck!" He exclaimed as he punched the nearby wall.

Who did that bitch think she was? Thinking she could corral him with this carrot and stick bullshit?

Marcus stormed out of the building, muttering to himself. He should have put Syrenne in her place the night they met. "It was stupid of me to let something like this stand… Thinks she can to whatever she wants."

In this churning sea of resentment, spite, …humiliation, he felt no way forward, no clarity, no contentment and no respite, and could only shout impotently toward the blue sky as he walked along the asphalt road leading to the academy.

By the end of this private tirade, Marcus had calmed. And in this new mindset, he went to locker 228, opened it with the combination of 19-11-55, and took out Syrenne's tablet.

---

"I need to know." Constance said as she and Syrenne ran together through the Freydis Mountain trail. "Why'd you try to bribe Marcus into compliance?"

"Heard about that, have you?"

"I might have grabbed one of his flunkies and squeezed it out of her."

"He seemed easy to control, but resourceful. And I need to get people on the same page as me before long."

"Before what, though? Why are you in a rush to prepare?"

"The Dominion wouldn't have me on parole and a fast track to conscription if something big wasn't coming. Probably a war."

"Why would the Dominion want you for a war?"

"You just love to ask questions, don't you?"

"You won't let me read your mind. It's the next best thing."

"Let's just say that my abilities are useful." Syrenne slowed and came to a stop.
Constance stopped as well. "What's going on? Why'd we stop?"

"The zerg aren't far. another half click ahead and they'll be able to smell us. Let's rest here." Syrenne went to a nearby tree and sat down with her back to it, dropping her long bag on the ground..

"Why not go and get our evidence now?"

Syrenne's head shook. "Soon as we get close enough, at least a few of them are going to attack us. Either we have to kill them, or run back the way we came, but faster. Probably a combination of both, so catch your breath and do some stretches."

Constance stared for a moment, then huffed. "Fine, you need some beauty rest, I'll oblige you." She sat down across from Syrenne and took out a water bottle attached to a shoulder strap. "You ever dealt with zerg before?"

"I've dealt with a lot of zerg." Syrenne said.

Constance leaned back against her tree, staring off. "Good, maybe we'll get a lot of 'em tonight."

"Determined to protect your community from the mean, scary zerg, are you?"

Constance's eyes darted to look at Syrenne's. "All life needs to be protected from those monsters. Perhaps one day they'll be eradicated, but until then I'm happy to do my part."

"And how do you plan on killing one if the situation arises?" As Syrenne said this, she unzipped her bag and took out a gauss shotgun. Its electric cells, capacitors and discharge prongs were housed in flimsy metal casing, causing the weapon to look exceptionally fat everywhere past its wooden stock and receiver.

Constance had a crooked smile of amusement. "I saw that on Mr. Hoffman's wall every time I went into his store. Looks like someone finally bought it."

"It's a G-One Nineteen. This sucker will separate a hydralisk's upper body from its lower. I'm surprised nobody else bought it."

"Because only someone in power armor or… like us, could possibly use it. It kicks like an angry ursadon when it fires. Still though, excellent weapon. GenTek makes good stuff."

"Yeah, not a fan of their CEO though."

Constance's mouth twisted. "I'll grant that he shouldn't have been screwing around with hybrid experiments, but it wouldn't have been released if not for that brat princess."

Syrenne showed no reaction to this. "You a fan of Kuraski?"

"He's one of the few prominent voices on Korhal calling for all-out war with the Zerg Swarm. I'm definitely a fan of that. Now, my turn for a question: Why were you locked up? I don't buy that 'unregistered psychic' nonsense."

Syrenne exhaled, looking down. "I was… A commander, of armies."

"No way, not a ghost? You're really young."

"Yeah, lot of opportunity for promotion after the Second Great War. Anyway, I disregarded the better judgment of other people, and… Got a lot of people killed. The whole thing could have been avoided, but I was arrogant, consumed by a sense of how brilliant and prodigal I was. I also got my… Best friend, killed because of it."

Constance was frowning with empathic concern at this story. "It sounds like you deserved to be locked up."

"Yeah, probably…"

"But listen, you owned up to what you did, and that's a good first step. Some mistakes are bigger than others, but you taking this proactive move to deal with a threat to my community tells me that you haven't let those mistakes paralyze you. It shows strength, which is something I respect."

"I appreciate hearing that, Constance." Syrenne's eyes moved up to look at her. "I really do."

Constance nodded. "And if you're doing what I think you're doing, and laying the groundwork for a new fighting unit for when the war starts, I want you to know that I'd be willing to follow you."

Syrenne snickered. "You might have to work with Marcus."

"Hey, if he's answering to you, I might be able to tolerate him."

Syrenne's amusement intensified. "And what makes you think you'd be of use to me?"

Constance reached under her coat and took out a metallic sword hilt. It gleamed an inky black in the light of dusk. She offered it to Syrenne. "Be careful."
Syrenne accepted the sword hilt. "What's this meant to be?"

"Not my Uncle's 'best' work, in his own words. But considering he might be the best weapon maker in the sector, that shouldn't rank it too low… The activation switch is on the pommel. Point it away from yourself."

Syrenne found and turned the switch. A telescope extension, thin as a pencil, shot out of the hilt as light vibrations denoted the activation of a mechanism within. A transparent, inky film formed around the telescope extension, stopping two inches out in every direction on a 2D plane. "It's… a monomolecular blade."

"Mm hm, it'll cut through just about anything, and I've tried to break it, it doesn't."

"Internal neosteel webbing?"

Constance nodded, "Run it over with a tank and you'd be lucky to dent it."

"Damn, that's fancy." Syrenne turned the blade's switch off, causing the mono film to dissipate and the telescopic extension to recede. She handed the blade back. "It doesn't answer my question, though."

"I think you'll have an answer before this is over." Constance said as she holstered the blade under her coat.
"Probably." Syrenne said as she got to her feet. "The zerg have detected us and are coming this way. We have thirty seconds."

Constance rose to her feet with a similar lack of panic as she once again took out the blade and activated it. Syrenne spread her feet in a bracing posture as she held her shotgun close to the hip.

The tree-lined mountain pass was silent. The sun was below the horizon as the darkness of night creeped in.

"The dark a problem for you?"

"No," Constance whispered.

They both detected it; barely visible in the dying dusk light. Quiet, rapid pattering on the ground. Its face was that of an alien monster with rows of jagged, exposed teeth that conveyed an almost sadistic grin; authentic if not for its animal nature. Its eyes beamed in the limited light. Unsettlingly heavy flapping of rapid-fire wings could be heard as it rose in the air to pounce on them.

These sounds were drowned out by the volcanic discharge of Syrenne's shotgun, overwhelming all other sound as the zergling was torn to shreds. Its blood, eviscerated organs, flesh and now baseless limbs scattered in the opposite direction. A flash of residual red plasma from the gun's muzzle followed the pellet projectiles, lighting their surroundings in a brief flash.

Their perception of time sped up.

Syrenne ducked to evade the headless carcasse of another zergling that leaped for Constance from the flank. Another shotgun discharge killed two more in the foliage on the other flank.

Constance's head zipped backward, her semi-loose hair, which billowed in front of her face, was sliced by a razor-sharp projectile spine. Her yellow eyes darted to that direction.

Screams and thrashing of otherworldly creatures erupted from the distance.
"I mind-blasted the hydras." Constance said over telepathy. "Let's go."

They sprinted down the mountain trail back the way they came.

---

Casa Ashton, Syrenne's handler, tracked Syrenne's tablet to an innocuous bench near Constance's house. Here she found Marcus.

"Might I ask where and how you came into possession of that tablet?" She asked.

"None of your business, now buzz off, I'm busy." Marcus didn't look at her as he slouched with his arms behind the bench backrest.

"I believe it's in your best interest to cooperate with me." Casa said, keeping a soft tone. "That tablet isn't yours, and it not being where it belongs creates a problem."
"Are you calling me a thief?" Marcus said, raising an eyebrow. "Go ahead, get the Sheriff. His building is on main street."

"I'd prefer to resolve this matter privately."
Marcus sobered. "Careful what you say next. I might interpret it as a threat."

"Ten thousand credits, and you tell me everything."
His eyes darted to Casa's, a flash of greed ran across them, which he suppressed with a blink. "Would you take it the wrong way if I told you that I know better than to accept?"

"It certainly creates another… Problem." Her hand went for an electric prod under her coat.

Marcus spotted this, and with a supernatural agility he shot to his feet and grabbed her forearms, pulling and holding her hands out with a powerful grip she couldn't possibly match.

An electric zap.

Marcus' body went stiff, and he collapsed to the ground. His leg had been jabbed with a secondary stun tool concealed in Casa's shoe.

"Now that I have your attention, let me explain your situation." Casa spoke dispassionately as she took the stun prod out of her coat and held it to Marcus' chest as she knelt next to him. Any motion he made against her couldn't possibly exceed the small flick of her thumb required to send a new wave of electric shock through his body.

Casa spoke. "Living in this republic does not make you or your family safe from the Dominion. We can leverage whatever criminal history, or suspected criminal history you or your family members have through an extradition treaty signed by my Emperor and your Chief Councillor. They'll be charged, saddled with legal costs, and wrung through a media circus until any hope of returning to a normal life is gone forever, even if they're fully exonerated by the end of the process."

As she spoke, Marcus' eyes slowly widened as fear crept into their edges. "What the hell's this world coming to, that two crazy bitches show up."

Casa was coldly indifferent to this. "All of what I've just described can be considered option A. Option B, and the one I recommend, is that you answer my questions."

---

Syrenne and Constance ran over the moonlit plains for hours. Periodically, they stopped, digging their boots into the grass and turning over dirt from their running momentum as they wheeled around to fight.

Zerglings were able to run them down unlike the larger zerg strains. Their teeth, claws on their front legs and peripheral overhead limbs were razor-sharp lethal weapons, one strike from which would cause injury or death to either of them.

They both danced with death, using competent, minimalist motions and smart positioning to deny the small zerg strains any chance of striking them.

Constance's monomolecular blade dealt lethal decapitation or organ damage with each slash. Her other hand carried a metal shield which deflected claws and spines with a near-mechanical diligence.

Syrenne's shotgun, with its seemingly limitless supply of ammunition, tore through any assailant before it had the chance to land a melee strike, and when the metal sound rang of spines ricocheting off Constance's shield, or she sensed such hostile intent herself, she pulled an alternate trigger on the gun which reduced the spread of its shot. It flew dozens of meters across the plains, killing a hydralisk in the distance.

With all the immediate zerglings dead, they returned to sprinting away.

"We can't lead them back to town. Constance said telepathically."

"Indeed. We'll shake their pursuit first. Got a few more hours left in you?"

"That and more. This is nothing compared to my Mentor's evil bootcamp."

As they sprinted along the plains, they spotted a truck intercepting them from the direction of town.

"That's Casa's truck. What the hell is she doing out here?"

The truck pulled in front of them, they stopped.

Casa came out of the driver's seat, aiming a weapon with a wide, tube-like muzzle at Syrenne. "Syrenne Cromford, you've violated the terms of your parole. Come with me, or I'll use lethal force."

Syrenne was silent.

Constance stepped in front of Syrenne, shielding her from Casa. "This isn't the fucking time, Casa!"

Casa didn't respond to this, and indifferently lowered a visor in front of her eyes. The tube-like weapon muzzle she held was aimed above the pair, and she fired it. Its sound was that of a release of pressure. She fired it 5 more times in quick succession. Its round, and just slow enough to be visible projectiles flew over or past them.

Explosions; the projectiles were sticky bombs. The corpses of zerg flew and rolled near the blast areas.

Syrenne felt a chill run up her spine; that weapon would be perfect for killing someone like her if the need arose.

"Get in. We're heading back." Casa said as she turned and got back into her truck.

Constance turned to Syrenne. "You sense any more nearby?"

Syrenne shook her head.

As they headed for the truck, a roar rang through the plains. It was long, full of vigor and denoted a creature larger than most houses. Syrenne, Constance and Casa all stopped to look in that direction.

"That's a god damn ultralisk…" Constance muttered. She wheeled around to glare at Syrenne. "You said there weren't any more nearby."

"I sense zerg by sensing their intentions. There are none nearby… That are after us."

"After us..?" Constance winced in confusion. "How does that–" She stopped herself, and her eyes widened with horror upon processing what Syrenne said. "It's not after us anymore."

Syrenne nodded. "It changed targets."
"No…" Constance paced away. "No, no, no this can't be happening!"

"It's headed for town." Casa said coldly as she took out her own military tablet. "While you were out on a run, I've been tracking the zerg bio signatures that entered the town's early warning range ten minutes ago. It will take at least an hour for help to arrive from the capital, and these townspeople don't have anything that can deal with an ultralisk."

"Neither do we…" Constance said under her breath.

"We actually might." Casa said as she approached them. "Syrenne, I couldn't contact you through your tablet, so I had to chase you down. You need to deal with the ultralisk."

Syrenne's back was turned, her forehead gripped in a hand. "I did it again, didn't I..?"
"Syrenne?" Constance said. "Do you really have a solution?"

Syrenne huffed. "I let my pride and ego get the best of me, and it's going to cause another trainwreck."

Constance grabbed Syrenne's shoulder and turned her around. "What the hell's gotten into you?"

Syrenne ignored her, still talking to herself. "I treated the environment around me like a chessboard, and the pieces once again saw fit to bite me–"

"The game isn't over!" Constance shouted to her face.

Syrenne sobered, her eyes looking into Constance's.

Constance continued. "We can still make a difference, here, now." She held Syrenne's shoulder in a deathgrip, her brow twisted, intense. "My friends and neighbors are in that town, and I'd never be able to live with myself if I didn't put every drop of blood into protecting them. That's why I came along with you! That's why I wanted to deal with those zerg, and that's why… I don't need to know why. I don't need to know whatever it is that makes you able to deal with an ultralisk. Just… Just tell me what to do!" Constance screamed the last part. Her face was tense, angry, but through all that, in her widened eyes, she was desperate, and in need of hearing something, anything that would provide direction.

Over a few seconds, Syrenne's own eyes returned to lucidity. "Alright. It can be done but I need full concentration. Split off from me and intercept the ultralisk. Do whatever you can to distract it. Buy your town five more minutes."

Constance nodded and headed to Casa's truck. "Drive, Casa. We're getting Syrenne the five minutes she needs."
Casa nodded and got into the driver's seat. The truck turned around and sped off after Constance jumped in the back.

As Casa floored it at top speed along the grassy plains, regularly glancing at her tablet to keep tabs on the ultralisk's position, she peeked through the rear cab window to see Constance sat down in the bucket and leaning back. "...You're tired."

"I'll be fine." Constance said.

"You didn't show a hint of exhaustion around Syrenne."

"She's not the only one with pride."

Casa's head shook. "You may have chosen the wrong bar to compare yourself. It's nothing short of incredible that you were able to keep up with Syrenne."

"Where's the ultralisk now?"

"At this pace we'll intercept it one minute out from town."

Constance nodded. "I've given my whole life to becoming a fighter, and using my power to protect others. I never got used to having friends, or working a normal job. I… gave up any chance at an ordinary life, but I'm okay with that. Somebody has to step up and be that wacko who protects everybody."

"It's not an easy road, but now is your chance to prove yourself."

"I don't need to prove anything, I just need to stop that zerg."

Casa spotted the ultralisk striding over the plains in the distance. The tremors of its steps also became audible. "Visual on the target, twelve O'clock." The second Casa said this, there was a swoosh in the air, and downward push on the truck's suspension as Constance leaped out of the bucket and bounded ahead.

---

The town militia were taking up positions on rooftops and in a battle line just outside the main proper of tall buildings where they could quickly retreat behind better cover if the need arose.

Groups of older war veterans were carefully setting up mortar positions on the streets with stockpiles of shells and communication lines with spotters on the rooftops. Such artillery was peanuts compared to the crushing power of a crucio-class siege tank, -which they didn't have- but their long range and explosive charge would nonetheless deal decent attrition to an attacking enemy and blunt any attempt at a siege.

The Haven Republic's professional military was on the way, but until they arrived, it fell to the militia to defend their home.

The word was that they were being attacked by zerg, but what actually showed brought a dark overcast to all of their minds.

It was only one zerg.

One of the largest, and possibly the most feared breed of zerg. Its tremoring footsteps became audible as its shape became visible in the distance.

Booms erupted in the rear as the mortars opened fire.

Most of the mortar warheads landed on or near the ultralisk, but the beast didn't even react to them.

Its shape grew larger as it came closer.

Another volley of mortars, the long-range rifles on the rooftops opened fire.

The tremors grew louder. The ultralisk's profile grew bigger.

If this thing reached their town, it would trample the buildings underfoot and kill countless people. This was worse than a rogue pack of feral zerglings or roaches; far worse. This was something…

Mortar shells impacted impotently on its armor, as did high-caliber rifle bullets.

This was something they couldn't damage.

They wouldn't run, though. They would stand their ground in the knowledge that abandoning their town would lead to getting picked off by any ferals that might have come with the big zerg, or in the case of an attack from other humans, separate them from their weapons, supplies; their means of fighting back. To defend their homes, not abandon them, was a hard-learnt lessen which Haveners wouldn't soon forget.

Nobody fled. The entire militia stood their ground and continued firing on the ultralisk.

---

Constance reached the ultralisk. It still didn't take notice of her, but she would soon change that.

She leaped near its face and slashed one of its eyes with her mono blade.

The ultralisk stopped and erupted in a pained roar.

Good, it stopped. Relief washed over Constance. She landed on the ground and immediately leaped for its other eye.

It reared in response, raising its frontal body by standing on its hind legs. Constance didn't quite reach high enough and ended up kicking off its chest. Her mono blade could penetrate its carapace, but not deep enough to deal meaningful damage.

As she fell, one of the ultralisk's smaller lower blades swung into her. She crossed it with her mono blade, slicing the bone-like blade down to half length.

Constance landed, and leaped out of the way just before the ultralisk's front feet slammed into the ground. The tremor caused her to lose footing as she landed off to its side.
Gunshots still peppered the creature from the battle line formed at the town. The mortars had stopped.

"Stop firing!" Constance screamed. "Let me draw it away from you!" She saw Casa's truck speeding toward them. Hopefully she would let them know.

This brief distraction would prove regrettable as one of the ultralisk's larger kaiser blades had stuck into the dirt, and then swung toward Constance as it plowed a terrifying mass of sod over her.

She had to sprint and dive out of the way of this turnover of earth as it passed. She was then open to the same kaiser blade rebounding and slamming into her with its blunt side.

Even with enhanced resilience, even with having time to leap along with the swing and reduce its relative impact, the blow lit an inferno of pain across her torso and sent her flying. She landed on the grass with a similarly brutal impact, feeling one of her arms break, and mind-shattering pain.

As she rolled over, struggling to remain conscious as she watched the militia continue to fire on the ultralisk, and the ultralisk once again turn its attention to them and gallop in their direction, creating tremor after grim tremor with each bound.

"NO!"
Constance willed herself to stand, but was moving too slowly, too imprecisely. "Stupid, worthless body, move dammit! What good are you if you can't… can't…"

This was reality, crushing the expectations held by her mind. She gambled on fighting a giant, and predictably lost.

The ultralisk was right on top of the town, nowhere near neutralized.

Any will, any rage, any burning motivation Constance had to protect those she was charged with were rendered impotent. Those militia manning the battle line, they probably felt the same way, and felt the same crushing reality bear down on them.

The ultralisk stopped.

Constance blinked from her prone position, wondering if she was hallucinating. Gunshots continued to hail impotently onto its armor. Some of them punctured and caused token damage and bleeding, yet the ultralisk stood in place, not reacting, not attacking. Eventually, the gunfire stopped, likely due to the same surreal confusion Constance felt.

She felt her consciousness slipping away. The last thing she saw was somebody levitating over the scene; a humanoid, with a wide, stiff skirt that looked as though it were keeping her in the air by catching it like a parachute, but not wide enough to actually be one.

And this humanoid was covered in zerg features. Not an infested Terran, but clean, symmetrical, natural zerg.

The world went black.

---

Syrenne levitated above the armed people of the town, and over the now pacified ultralisk. She had concentrated in order to take control of it, and in the rush to complete the connection as soon as possible, Syrenne had to revert more and more to her true form in order to strengthen the empathic link zerg created with each other.

The militia below were confused; dumbfounded, but didn't shoot her or the ultralisk.

She flew to the ultralisk and landed atop its head as her natural skirt receded as not to drag on the ground. She surveyed the people of the town as she spoke loudly. "This creature is no longer a threat to you. I have formed an empathic link with its mind and become its master…" There was no reply, only still-shocked staring.

She continued. "Some of you know me as Syrenne Cromford, a psychic convict on parole in the Republic. But my true name…" She exhaled, then inhaled, sensing Casa sending her murderous ice picks with her eyes, wherever she was. "My true name is Saraslha, daughter of Overqueen Zagara, and the only zerg of my strain."

Saraslha continued. "I am an Exile of the Swarm."