Location: Abandoned complex on the outskirts of Langerston Falls, Umoja Prime
Located at the heart of this run-down district, within one, among many battered and deserted structures, a group of men and women have secretly met to discuss their future plans. Since the fall of the Confederacy many years ago, the few confederate elements that refused to change allegiances and managed to escape the purges of the Dominion have been trying to subvert the rule of the self-proclaimed emperor, Mengsk. Striking from hidden bases located throughout the sector, those groups that sought to restore the confederacy have been doing what they could to disrupt or destroy the day-to-day operations of the Dominion.
Despite their brave efforts, they have been fighting a losing battle. Unable to replace their losses in manpower and equipment, they have slowly been routed from every base until they found themselves forced into hiding within the Umojan Protectorate. Now with the recent changes taking place in this region, they find their options dwindling fast. With this meeting, it is their hope that an alternative to their situation can be found before the last vestiges of the Confederacy are swept away. Unfortunately for them, the small teams moving in the darkness on their position have already decided what their final fate will be.
Moving slowly and silently like shadows towards their goal in the early morning darkness, the four teams continue to close on their targets as they leave a trail of dead sentries in their wake. The leader of the primary assault group halts her team with a raised fist and the rest drop quickly into the shadows around her. Carefully peering out from her cover, she adjusts her headpiece and the darkness is replaced with red and black images. She quickly spots eight sentries lurking in the shadows in her sector outside their target area with four more on the roof. Two soft clicks through her comm system are heard and she acknowledges her second team with two clicks of her own to go ahead.
On the rooftop, four figures emerge suddenly from the darkness and quickly close behind the unsuspecting sentries. A series of soft gurgles are heard over the comm system as the rooftop sentries are eliminated; their throats sliced cleanly open. One soft click is heard as the rooftop team indicates an "all-clear" and rapidly takes up positions overlooking the sides of the building.
"Team two in position," quietly states the team leader.
"Team three ready," whispers an icy voice. "Six sentries in our sector."
"Team four in position and standing by," adds another voice. "Reporting four more sentries in the east sector."
"All teams lock in your targets and stand by," quietly orders the assault leader as she continues to watch the routine of the sentries.
"Sensors spikes are in position and active," whispers the leader of team two. "Reading thirty-three bio signs within the building. Lots of security here."
"Acknowledge, two," replies the assault leader quietly as she examines the transmitted data, "stand by."
"Roger, lead. Team two holding position."
The assault leader smoothly adjusts a dial on her comm to the audio transmitted by the spikes and listens in on the discussion taking place within the building.
***
"-we have no other options left to us people," states a tough looking man in his late forties. "We have to move our operations out of this region before the Dominion catches up with us."
"There has got to be something else we can do besides run again, colonel. Maybe something we're missing? I don't know, but all I know is that we don't have too many places left to go and I for one am sick of running."
Some of those present being to murmur among themselves as the discussion returns back to the previous arguments made earlier.
"We've covered every possible course open to us, Dan," answers back Colonel Paul Rhodes, "we can't do much good here anymore. It's time to find a new place to setup shop and continue the fight."
"What about that offer from Raynor's contingent, sir," hopefully asks a young woman in the back row. "His group has approached us in the past to link up with them. I suppose now is as good a time as any for-"
"No way in HELL!" snaps a man near the front. "He was with the Sons of Korhal when they trashed an outpost under my command. You have any idea how much humiliation I suffered for that fiasco? I'll be damned if I bring my group alongside with that terrorist bastard."
"That was a long time ago, Hank," states Lt. Commander Patricia Willows diplomatically, "and our reports indicated that his faction wasn't even there. Besides a lot has changed since then and in case you haven't noticed, we can't afford to be picky who we side with these days."
"I don't care, Patty," stubbornly states Major Hank Varela as he continues to puff on his cigar, "if you people are stupid enough to want to ally with him go right on ahead, I won't stop you, but you'll end up crossing over without my support and men."
"Why you stubborn old fool," snaps a nearby member of the group. "We're practically down to a single leg for ALL of us to stand on and you are concerned about your pride and…"
"In any case people," interrupts Rhodes as he tries to redirect the flow of the discussion, "further talk about an alliance is just a waste of time and energy at the moment. We'll deal with that at a later date. Right now, we need to concern ourselves with where we intend to go and how soon we can leave."
"What's the current situation of our forces right now," inquires Rhodes as he turns to address a nearby aide. "What's left of them anyway," he thinks silently to himself.
"Well, sir" replies the aide sheepishly, "we don't have much heavy hardware at the moment, mostly light craft and escorts, but what we do have is based out on Antiga's primary moon. The rest of our weapons and supply caches are scattered here planetside."
"How soon can we have all that moving?"
"Just give us the word, colonel and we can have our equipment loaded up and ready to move in under two hours," replies a fleet officer. "The question though is this, where are we supposed to go once we get it all in motion?"
"We'll probably head out to the fringe regions and then figure things out from there. What's important is that we do it fast," answers Rhodes thoughtfully, "We'll just have to worry about specifics later when-"
***
Outside, the assault team leader slowly nods her head with satisfaction as she finally gets the information that she needed. Turning to her side, she quickly issues orders to one of her subordinates.
"Relay that information to base. Inform the fleet elements to concentrate their search on Antiga Prime."
"Acknowledge," replies the team member as he quietly whispers the orders through his comm.
"All teams, stand by for assault," coolly whispers the assault leader. "Team leads confirm section locks on your targets and prepare to fire on my mark."
"Roger, lead."
"Affirmative."
"Acknowledge, lead."
All around the building, the members of the assault team quietly ready themselves and slowly begin to lock their rifle crosshairs on the wandering sentries.
"Fire teams stand by," whispers the assault leader as she sights in on a nearby sentry.
***
"Hey, Mike," whispers one of the sentries to a nearby comrade, "you got a lighter on you?"
"You shouldn't be smoking while on watch, Hector."
"Ah, who the hell is going to be out here man?" asks Hector with an encompassing wave of the area. "We've got twenty other guys out on the perimeter beyond us. Besides, I'm getting edgy man and I need a smoke."
"Fine," hisses Mike as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a silver lighter. "Here's to your health."
With a flick of his wrist, the lighter goes sailing across the distance but falls short at Hector's feet.
***
"Fire," orders the assault leader.
***
"Ah shit, Mike," complains Hector as he bends down to retrieve the item from the ground and feels the sting from chips of stone where his head was a second ago. He looks up and to his right where Mike was standing and just manages to hear a wet sounding smack as poor Mike's head is exploded apart like a melon, his body dropping to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
Combat experience kicks in and Hector instantly rolls for cover and starts screaming into his comm unit.
"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" he screams hysterically as a flurry of silent bullets begins to pocket the walls around him and scatter stone pieces everywhere. He hears the hypersonic passage of the bullets as a high-pitched whine zipping past his position as the sharp bark of his Gauss rifle answers in return.
Inside the building those gathered respond rapidly to the attack. The sentries inside quickly break into separate groups. One group gathers their charges and leads them deeper into the warehouse while the second moves to covering positions to delay the attackers.
"What the hell is going on?" excitedly asks Willows.
"We're under attack," snaps Varela as he and his men quickly initiate their battle drill. "All of you follow your escorts out of here, we'll cover your escape," he adds as he grabs a nearby rifle and rushes to cover the evacuation.
"Try not to play a hero, Hank," says Rhodes hurriedly as his escorts shove him and numerous personnel towards the lower passage.
"Don't worry 'bout us, buddy," replies Varela with a tight grin, "you just keep the home fires burning."
"Will do, Hank. See ya soon," says Rhodes as he fades from view. With one last glance at his friend and commander, Varela gathers his men and heads to intercept the invaders.
***
"Damnmit!" hisses the assault leader viciously at the realization that the element of surprise is completely lost due to a missed shot.
"Lead, this is two. Occupants of the building are breaking into two groups. First group is moving into defensive positions while second appears to be moving down to the lower levels."
"Teams three and four, you are cleared for breach. Team two secure the top level and move to intercept that second group."
Lifting the rifle to her shoulder, she sights in again on the lone surviving sentry laying down suppression fire from the entrance. The sentry makes a mistake of showing himself just a little too much and she takes advantage of the opportunity. She shifts her aim slightly and squeezes the trigger. The rifle kicks briefly and she looks up just in time to witness the face of the sentry disappear in an expanding red cloud of matter.
"Let's go!" she orders as moves from behind cover and quickly advances on the structure. She and her people activate their cloaking units and rapidly move to their sectors and gain entry to the building in a blur of movement.
***
"What're we up against boys?" asks Varela as he presses up against the side of the loading passage leading outside.
"Not to sure, sir, but it seems all of our exterior sentry posts are not responding," replies a trooper as he checks the ammo indicator on the side of his rifle.
"ALL of them?"
"Yes, sir. It looks like it's just us left in the building."
"Best bet it's a Dominion assassin squad, Major," offers a senior trooper.
Varela is about to swear viciously and stops himself as the sound of gunfire filters down from a side passage. His comm unit crackles to life and he instantly hears the rattle of gauss rifle fire and an excited voice.
"Intruders advancing through the east side," screams the voice as several sharp bursts of rifle fire fills the comm.
"Gonzalez, Tran and Harris are down! It's just Dayvid and me, sir! I think we nailed one! The intruders are using stealth masking! I say again, intruders are using-"
A sharp ear-splitting burst is heard followed by two screams and then the comm quickly grows silent. This time Varela allows himself to swear. Keying his comm unit with a vicious flick of his wrist, Varela rapidly begins to issue orders.
"Those of you with thermal imaging try and delay the intruders while slowly falling back to the rally point. Trade ground for time, boys. We've got to get our people out of here first."
He gets a series of acknowledgements from his people as they begin to execute his orders.
"The rest of you, fall back by elements now to the main area and hold that position. We're going to be hot on your heels."
Several of the men assembled by Varela immediately drop from cover and begin to head back while the remaining take up positions along the main corridor to cover the withdrawal. Varela and the men around him immediately switch to thermal imaging and they suddenly see a brief glimpse of movement down the passage.
"Here they come," hisses a nearby trooper pressed between two exhaust ducts.
Advancing rapidly in squads, the Dominion troops in the passage quickly leapfrog from one point of cover to the next as they move through the loading corridor. Appearing as multicolored blobs of light in the visors of the defenders, the assassins are completely unaware that their advantage has just been negated.
"Wait for them to get real close then open up," coolly whispers Varela as he sights in on the leader. His men brace their rifles against their shoulders almost as one as they sight in as well.
***
"All teams, status report," asks the assault leader as she and her section halts their advance to cover the other half of their team's advance.
"Team three here, we have encountered light resistance. Closing on your position from the west."
"Team two taking fire from rear guard, two minor injuries to report. The primary targets are in range and we should have them soon."
"Team four sweeping eastern sector. I've got one man down and I've detailed two off to evac him out. We are nearing the central room."
"Acknowledge teams," replies the assault leader as she waves the next section forward.
****
"F*uck," hisses Varela as his first target drops from view behind several pipes. "Ok, you'll do instead." He quickly sights in on the other moving blobs advancing on his position.
"Fire!" screams Varela as he yanks back on the trigger to his rifle.
The corridor is instantly filled with the roar of gauss rifle fire and the screams of those being hit as his men lay down a deadly stream of tracers into the passage. Three of the assassins go down hard and lie still as two, obviously wounded, thrash wildly on the ground from their injuries. Despite having the element of surprise, Varela can't help but be impressed with how quickly the invaders recovered from the ambush and begin to lay down fire. Several brief flashes of light are seen down the passage followed by the sparks of metal around him as the assassins' silenced guns are brought to bear. Three of his men are struck in the silent volley. One drops silent while the others scream in agony from their injuries before another series of rounds thud against their now dead form.
"FALLBACK!" screams Varela as he blindly fires a quick burst down the passage. His men quickly leave their cover and head back to the central room as a brilliant flash of light and a shower of debris blasts over their former position.
"Team one under fire!" screams the assault leader as she sights on a distant target. One quick burst and she watches with satisfaction as the target collapses into a crumpled heap. The blast from an explosive charge flows over her as the remaining members of her team quickly advance on their fleeing foes.
"Three down here with two wounded."
"Roger. Team four moving to assist."
"Team three coming to your aid, flanking your position from the left."
"Be advised," says the team leader as she looks down at the bloodied body she shot, "enemy troops have thermal capability."
"Copy that."
"Roger that, lead. Team four closing from the right. We've got them."
***
Down in the access corridor of the structure, a fierce running battle is taking place as the escort group struggles to hold off the advance of the Dominion troops to buy their leaders time to escape. Although the escorts vastly outnumber their attackers, only a few of them have the benefit of thermal equipment and it is because of that oversight that they are paying the price. A vicious series of firefights ensue within the darkened passage and more of the defenders fall to the advance. The Dominion troops dash forward past the fallen line in their haste to catch their prey as the bodies of the fleeing confederates continue to litter their path.
"C'mon," screams Rhodes as he urges his people on. "Move it! The vehicles are just up ahead!"
A nearby section of the wall beside him is quickly pocketed from the fire of the Dominion troops. One of their trailing escorts stops to fire back at their pursuers. Leaning against a large pipe fixture, he bravely stands his ground and manages to blindly fire off several quick bursts. A distant scream is heard down the passage, as his rounds happen to connect with one of their cloaked attackers before he himself drops screaming in agony from a flurry of concentrated fire.
***
Back in the central chamber, the skirmish does not go well for the remnants of the Confederate rear guard. With their only exit route apparently compromised, the confederate defenders struggle to move clear of the Dominion envelopment and try to break contact. The interior of the warehouse is crisscrossed with hundreds of tracers as one group tries to escape while the other seeks to draw blood. Those that are fortunate enough to have thermal abilities are meeting with better success than their comrades who are forced to blindly fire at fleeting blurry images that may or may not be threats.
Unfortunately, the Dominion teams realize this and quickly begin to specifically target them. What soon ensues is a deadly game of cat-and-mouse between the thermal equipped confederate troopers and the Dominion forces. The skirmish soon degenerates into a stalemate with neither side willing to risk any further losses. Short bursts of fire fill the air as both sides take shots at briefly seen targets.
All of that changed when the fourth team finally manages to sneak in behind the defenders and opens fire with deadly results. Caught by surprise, most of the defenders are cut down without even being able to fire a shot in return. Those that managed to survive the initial volley only succeed in delaying the inevitable. Trapped in a rapidly closing pocket, the survivors are dispatched in a cold, methodical manner.
A volley of shots hammers the area on his left and Varela can only watch in anguish as two more of his men go down. He manages to catch a brief glimpse of their killer and fires his own rifle at the moving red-green form in the distance behind several pipes. His gauss rifle barks loudly and he watches with satisfaction as his rounds impact on the assassin and throw the form into several crates; warm fluid splattering along the wall nearby. A flurry of rounds immediately begins to explode around his position and drive him back down to cover.
Some of his men nearby shout a warning and fire wildly as several blurry forms rapidly converge from their flank. The confederate troops shake from the impact of dozens of rounds and are scattered before the deadly hail. Varela and several others try to engage the threats but are hammered by a small group closing on their left.
Varela levels his rifle and manages a short burst before he feels a series of fiery thumps against his chest. The impact lifts him off his feet and slams him against the wall. His rifle drops with a loud clatter as he slides to a rest on the floor; his chest streaked with crimson from the half dozen holes. Several brief bursts and a few more screams and it is all over.
***
"All teams status report," inquires the assault leader as her teams begin to secure the area.
"Team four here. Three casualties and one walking wounded. Sector secured."
"Team three reporting. Four casualties and two wounded. Clear here."
"Team two here. One dead with three wounded. Sorry lead, most of the primaries got away clean. Area now secured."
"Roger that teams," briskly replies the team leader as she continues to walk among the many bodies. "Would have been nice but we've got a good idea where their going. Team leads gather up your people and stand by for additional orders."
"Roger."
"Copy, lead."
"Acknowledge."
"Damnmit," whispers the team leader as she removes her helmet to reveal her tightly bound blond hair.
"They were good. I'll give them that," comments Alexia Sarles as she clears the expended clip from her rifle and inserts a new one.
"Wasn't expecting them to put up such a fight, ma'am. We took quite a few losses this time 'round," comments one of her troops. "More than the last time."
"Don't worry," she answers coldly, "there's not going to be a next time and we can replace our losses faster than they can," she adds as she comes to a stop before Varela's bloody form.
His body is already pale and losing color as his blood continues to ooze out of him slowly. His eyes slowly focus on the form in front of him and he forces a weak grin.
".they… got… away huh?" he whispers mockingly at Sarles as he coughs up a stream of blood from his mouth.
"For now, Major Varela," replies Sarles coldly as she stares down at him. "That's a lot more than I can say for you."
".we'll be... back... one day… and you… and… your people are… gonna pay… for what you did… at.. Tarsonis... that's a promise. bitch," defiantly adds Varela as he coughs up yet another stream of blood.
"Perhaps, major," replies Sarles calmly, "but you obviously won't be there to see it so it's not your problem anymore." With that final word, she smoothly levels her rifle and stitches a line of shots across Varela's chest.
He barely feels the bullets across his already bloodied chest as his battered form jerks from the impacts. He soon feels his world go warm and hazy as his vision begins to grow dark for the last time.
"All teams begin moving to the rally point, we are leaving the area," orders Sarles firmly.
"What about the enemy wounded? Do we take them with us for interrogation?" inquires a member of her team.
"Leave them for the vermin," she answers back harshly, "we got what we came for," she adds as she begins to lead her team out of the area.
***
Several hundred kilometers away, the surviving members of the confederate forces silently grieve for their lost friends as their resolve against the Dominion is only hardened by the events of this morning.
"That was damn close, Paul," excitedly comments Captain Daniel Warring as the adrenaline finally begins to thin in his blood.
"Yes it was, Dan."
"Do you think Hank and most of the others made it out of there?"
"We would have heard from them by now," quietly replies Rhodes.
"Don't worry, Paul. Hank is too ugly to die on us," offers Willows weakly as she tries to lighten the mood. "He'll get back to us eventually."
"Yeah," blankly says Rhodes as he continues to stare out the viewport.
With one final glance in the general direction of the abandoned complex, Rhodes whispers quietly to himself.
".Goodbye. old friend."
Rhodes settles back into his chair and takes a moment to recover his wits. A few seconds pass before he finally speaks again.
"We need to get our people and equipment on the move ASAP," firmly states Rhodes as he returns to the task at hand. "Get the word out. I want everything that can fight and fly ready to move in under an hour. The Dominion probably knows about our bases. The sooner we get them cleared the less chance they have of getting taken out."
"Yes, sir," replies those gathered as they immediately begin to relay the orders to their remaining forces.
"Time to find a new home," sadly states Rhodes as he stares out the viewport at the rapidly shrinking planet of Umoja Prime
***.
Location: Province of Alsace, Aiur
His movement is silent and goes unnoticed by those gathered around the massive living fortress that looms above the darkened and ruined ground of this once gleaming city. He feels the moist organic carpet beneath his steps, as the air around him is heated and steamy like the breath of some bizarre, massive creature. As he continues his trek towards the dark towering structure, he pauses briefly to examine the state of the Zerg forces. Thousands of the violent beasts lie huddled in numerous states of rest on the steamy and moisture-laden carpet that most of the races unfortunate to cross paths with them have dubbed the creep. He glances to his left and watches intently as Zerg injured recently in their conflict with the Protoss struggle to heal themselves. The smell of burnt flesh and the putrid scent of their spilled fluids fills the air and he considers himself fortunate that he is no longer forced to live among them anymore. He quietly steps aside to allow a small group of hydralisks, obviously on patrol, to pass him and he grunts with amusement as they continue on totally oblivious to his presence. If only they knew how close they passed within death itself, he thinks briefly to himself.
Returning to his assigned duty, he grudgingly presses forward into the heart of the vile fortress. As he passes a small group of Zerg, he silently wonders about the task he was ordered to perform. Many cycles have completed since he was forced to walk among these creatures. So little has changed he thinks to himself as he stops for a moment to examine a nurturing chamber. He watches intently as several maturing eggs are carried by the worker drones and placed gently into the dozens of niches that encompasses one side of the vast chamber. He snorts gently and wonders why his masters would wish an alliance with such a simple species. He decides it best not to voice his concerns too loudly for fear of the consequences that he may have to endure. With one last glance, he presses forward towards his ultimate goal, the Queen of Blades. As he continues further down into the depth of the hive, he wonders how their long overdue reunion will occur. His eyes glow slightly as he revels at what will await him at his journey's end. Suppressing a slight smile, he realizes that he will not have too long to find out.
