Jim Raynor looked around him as he prepared to board the military transport to Tarsonis, along with his two brothers.
“It’s pretty damn big, ain’t it?” Alexander shouted over the noise of all the people. “I sure as hell wouldn’t want to have to pilot one of these things.”
Jim only grunted in a non-committal fashion, being to busy with the pack with all of his belongings in it, which had just somehow slipped off of his shoulder.
“Ya’ll enlisting? If so, better head over to gate 12-A3, that’s where they want all of the new recruits at.” It was a tall, thin, dark headed man who spoke. He could have been anybody; many on the planet looked just like him.
“How did you know we was going to enlist?” asked Tyron, glaring. “We haven’t talked to a soul in this place.”
Jim silently agreed, this man knew more than he was supposed to, and at this time, that was a dangerous thing. But, thought Jim, maybe I’m just being paranoid.
“See, son, it ain’t hard to figure out… “
Alexander interrupted. “I don’t care if it’s hard to figure out or not… your not supposed to know. Now who the hell are you?”
“Best if you didn’t know.” The man slipped off through the crowd, leaving the Raynor’s bewildered.
“Bastard. How the hell do these people know so damn much?” Tyron spat.
Jim was silent in the face of his brothers’ anger. He knew too well how they could explode for seemingly no reason. Jim thought that this was one of those occurrences again, why else were they so nervous about that man knowing what he did? True, it was bizarre that he knew, but nothing to worry about.
“Tyron, why are you and Alexander so edgy?” Jim inquired innocently.
“I’ll talk to you once were on the ship. Now hurry up and keep walking.”
Jim detected the slight edge in Tyron’s voice, and saw Alexander craning his head to see over the throng. He didn’t look too pleased. Jim turned to look behind him, and saw a small troop of Confederate marines pushing their way through the mass of people towards the brothers.
“Shit.” Alexander moaned. “Run to the ship, fast. Now hurry! Hurry, I said!” he finished in a loud scream. “I knew I should have stayed in bed this morning.” He said in an undertone. Jim stifled a laugh.
Jim and Tyron didn’t question him; Alexander was the oldest, so they merely obeyed.
Just as they reached the checking stations, they looked back to see Alexander struggling with the marines. The marines seemed to be reluctant to use their guns on him; that changed as he started to strangle what was obviously the commander. Still they didn’t fire at him; the range was to close for their rifles. Instead they started to beat him with the butts of the guns, and Jim could see the blood flowing from Alexander’s head before he went down. He was obviously dead. The Confederates didn’t stop, however. They caught sight of Tyron and Jim, and rushed towards them. Tyron shoved Jim out of the way, in the direction of the ship. Jim got the general idea: get the hell out of this place as soon as possible. But to Jim, the risk of losing another brother outweighed the risk of getting mauled or killed by the marines. As they came closer, Jim recognized the tall, dark-haired man. He didn’t look too happy.
“Be careful, you idiots! I want at least one of them alive.” he screamed.
Apparently they didn’t care which of them was left; and Jim had no idea why.
In a few minutes, it was all over. Tyron was dead on the ground, in a pool of his own blood. And Jim Raynor was a prisoner of the Confederacy.
Jim was in a small office, being questioned not unkindly by a Confederate official.
“Son, did you know why you were here?”
Jim was at a loss. Why they had gone to the spaceport? Why to get to Tarsonis, of course. Jim told the official this.
“Boy, apparently they didn’t tell you much.” He said, frowning at a lie detector on his desk. “In case you didn’t know, that ship was bound for Korhal. Now do you know what Korhal is?”
Once again, Jim was bewildered.
“I have no idea. I’ve never heard of it in my life.”
The man sighed. “Does this name ring a bell? The Sons of Korhal.”
“No sir.”
“Since you don’t know, I’ll tell you. The Sons of Korhal is an extremist faction bent on destroying the Confederacy. There are others, of course, there always are, but the Sons of Korhal are notable because of they’re dedication to the misguided ideals they follow.”
“I don’t understand. We were going to Tarsonis to join up with the Confederate military…”
“That might be what they told you, but to prove it, look at this:”
It was a letter. Jim read it slowly.
To Colonial Marshall Louis Mengsk:
It has come to our attention that you are a member of the Sons of Korhal. We have studied the motives behind the forming of your faction, and believe them to be of utmost sincerity. We have no great love for the Confederate tyrants, and we desire as well to upset the throne of evil and greed and replace it with a free and independent state. We know in your position that it is hard to trust us, but we assure you we are trustworthy. If you do not take our word for it, we have recommendations from many people included with this letter, among them your cousin Arcturus who toured our planet a few months ago in a secret, large scale recruiting project. We have only now managed to leave our home, and are on our way to Korhal at this time. Please consider our offer, we will gladly serve your faction in any way you see fit with the utmost loyalty.
Alexander, Tyron, and Jim Raynor.
And so a traumatized Jim Raynor, pushed into a path not of his own choosing, is lead away to a temporary holding pen before he is shipped to Tarsonis to be tried. The crime he has unknowingly committed could easily carry the conviction of treason, which in the Confederacy is punishable by death. Jim is still not over the deaths of his two brothers, and is determined to find the reasoning behind it. He is convinced that they were all framed. But most important is his own fate, which rests in the hands of a biased judge: The Confederacy.
