This story is set about ten years after Brood War. Jim Raynor and his troops have joined with the Dark Templar and the Xel'Naga creations (that have now joined together and are calling themselves Lucifus and control a large part of the Swarm).
The Koprulu sector is divided into space held by Re-Omega (as explained above) and the Terran Dominion. Some groups of rouge Templar still exist along with various Pirate groups.
###########
There was something wrong right now.
The lights were dimmed, but still too bright. He struggled to raise a hand to shield his eyes but his arms were tied down. He looked down at himself, saw flesh that was bleeding in places, scarred in others. The bench he was tied to was cold, freezing almost, and hard.
Around him people in gowns moved quickly, muttering to each other. One of them came closer and looked at him carefully. His voice seemed to come from a long way off when he called to the others that the subject was ready.
The others came closer, bearing knives, scalpels and other things that he couldn't even guess at. The first one, the one whose face was hidden by the equipment he was wearing, held out a hand, a knife placed within.
As the knife came closer his struggles increased, he could already feel it cutting into him as it had before. As the knife touched his skin snakes of light flashed across his vision, twisting backwards and forwards….
Franky woke with a start, clutching at the knife that had been held over his chest. As he jerked up and hit his head on the bunk above.
Hands still clutching for the ghost of the knife, he looked around, his eyes adjusting to the dark. He took in the other bunks around the room, the lockers across one wall.
Gasping, he flopped back down onto the bunk and tried to get his breath back. It wasn't easy. He had been sure that the knife was there. Certain in fact. He could still feel the sharp sting that would have signified a cut being made. Worriedly he pulled at the loose shirt that he was wearing and looked down at the place where he could feel it.
Nothing there. Of course, it was only a dream.
Franky settled down into the briefing-room chair and watched at others who did the same. Slightly bored by the necessity of coming to this briefing, Franky glanced down at the report in front of him. There wasn't much in it, baring the fact that it involved potential Dominion activity and that it was going to be Covert Ops the whole way.
The main doors opened and a figure stepped through the doorway. He was of medium height and build, with dark hair. His uniform was basically casual clothing with a couple of insignia sown onto it.
He sat down at the head of the table, placing a set of documents in front of himself as he did so. He looked around for a minute before speaking.
"We've recently been picking up increased amounts of Dominion activity in the area of a planet known as Vehalta. The problem is that this activity doesn't seem to follow standard patterns or for that matter seem to be the center of their action.
"This is unusual as the planet is very densely populated, apparently by humans, possibly from an experiment similar to the New World one that resulted in Terran civilization. Under normal conditions we would be certain that the Dominion had already moved against this world. That doesn't seem to be the case though.
"Our current suspicions are that they are trying something, but with a more subtle edge than usual. We need to find out what this is and stop them before this world becomes a fringe colony of the Terran Dominion."
He turned to Franky. "Franky, you're doing recon on this one. Find out what's going on, and if you need it we can have a full fighting backup to you in a few minutes. Problem is that the second we launch any help toward the planet, the Dominion will know and come down on us."
Franky nodded. "What's my cover?"
"We've found out that a new system of learning has recently been started up. Kids are running away from home all over the place to come to it. We're going to drop you off, then you make your way there. Do not try anything silly. If possible we’re going to try pulling a fast one without the locals knowing about us or the Dominion."
Franky nodded slowly. This wasn't surprising. There was little or no point in delaying a culture's technological advancement save to make museum exhibits out of them, showing what things used to be like, or using them as a source of new technology or inspiration. Regardless of this Re-Omega made a general policy of not doing anything that might endanger a culture’s natural evolution.
"All the main details are going to be put onto your areas on the network. If there isn't anything else then I think we shall go. Franky, you leave in an hour."
All of them got up to leave except Franky. "Jim," he called at the man.
Jim turned, stopping the military master act that he didn't do very well, and starting to be someone a bit more casual. "What's up?"
Franky waited until the others had left the room and the door had closed before continuing. "I'm not sure I can do this mission."
Jim looked confused. "Why not? Is something wrong?"
Franky braced himself. This was going to sound ridiculous. "I've started having nightmares."
Jim looked even more confused. "Nightmares are just dreams, and we know that you can dream. So what's the problem?"
Franky sighed dramatically. "This one was very real."
Jim wandered over and sat down next to him. "What was it about?"
Franky thought back. "I was human, in some kind of operating theatre. There were guys around me, one of them came to cut me with a knife, lights flashed and I woke up. The problem is that I could feel the knife touching me. I can still feel where I was going to cut me, where it had just touched me." He looked at Jim. "Has that ever happened to me? Because that wasn't any kind of dream that I've experienced before."
Jim seemed to think about this for just a second too long for Franky's liking before answering. "A dream can mean just about anything. But in your case it may just be bits of those memories we sealed off coming up. As far as I know there wasn't anything like that in there, but I can't be sure."
Franky nodded, deciding to accept this for now. "Do you think I could be going wrong?"
Jim shook his head. "Seems unlikely. But I'd get the guys in the workshop to have a look at you before you go. We don't want you falling apart on this one."
"Sure." Franky got up and headed for the door. As he left Jim grimaced, wondering by how much he had avoided Franky finding out where he came from. It wasn't that it was bad for him to know. But all of the mechanics and Robo-psychologists that he had talked to about it had said that Franky may not be able to cope.
After all, you can only stretch a machine so far before it breaks.
***
Franky sat on the edge of the desk whilst Kyle had a look at him. Kyle was the one who had initially put him together, who had chosen to make an eight year old who would live longer than his creator. Kyle was just good with kids and machines. So he got the jobs that involved mainly kids but also Franky. Because Franky was a kid and a machine. Or something like that. Seeing as he was a two hundred-year-old midget in an eight year olds body, it tended to confuse things and there were still people on the command staff who persisted in thinking of him as someone who should still be in school.
Kyle was really the nearest thing that Franky had to a true friend.
The side of Franky's head was currently open, revealing some of the more intricate workings of his visual, auditory and speech mechanisms. Kyle poked around with a probe for a few minutes before putting the probe down and closed the panel. He went over to one wall and checked some of the readings off the computer then came back.
"Well Franky, as near as I can tell you're in perfect working order. Not a single thing wrong. Certainly nothing that would account for nightmares at any rate." Kyle looked confused.
Franky shrugged. "Oh well. I don't suppose Jim would let me get out of a mission that easily."
"You're on a mission already?" Kyle was sounding very surprised. Not unexpectedly.
"I know I just got back, but they need a kid to get into this thing on the planet. Apparently I've been picked. Worst luck."
Kyle nodded in sympathy. Franky was out of the base a lot at the moment.
At that point one of the SCV pilots that habituated the workshop came over and waved a cigarette in Kyle's direction. "Hey boss, I got a call from the Sep saying that Franky should be over there by now to pick up his gear."
Franky grimaced. External Affairs, or Someone Else's Problem as it was nicknamed, was notorious throughout the whole of Re-Omega for making complete messes of everyone's lives over even the slightest problem. That they didn't have security down on him for endangering the mission was just about a miracle in itself.
He slid off the desk and jogged toward the bay doors that led onto the main corridor. "I'll be back soon Kyle."
Kyle waved fondly at Franky.
The SCV pilot watched the doors closed then turned to Kyle. "We got a couple of transports coming in, need patching up after going through an asteroid storm."
Kyle turned to watch as the pair of modified Dropships glide down and set themselves down on the tarmac of the landing bay. Back to work again.
***
External Affairs offices took up a large part of the Hubward side of the Tarsonis orbital platform. In truth though it was less of an orbital platform and more of a Dyson sphere. The original platforms were still intact, somewhere. But since the formation of Re-Omega they had been expanded, added on to, rebuilt and extended until they surrounded the entire star in a three dimensional mesh that reached almost to the edge of the Solar System.
Someone had once said that the structure was just a bit beyond having enough mass to become a Black Hole. Not true of course, but easy to believe. From outside the platform the star seemed to be huge.
External Affairs were waiting for him when he arrived. This meant that instead of getting a bit of a wait he had to go straight into the briefing on precautions, local customs, things to avoid and several dozen other things. Most of it Franky could quote of by heart, not that he had been in that many briefings. He just remembered it all perfectly.
After he had been practically thrown out for quoting, word for word what was about to be said, a few seconds before it was said, he did have a wait. As so little was known about this world it was going to be interesting getting him to blend in and he was being given minimal equipment.
After the overly-officious bureaucrats had finished tying red tape around his actions, words and equipment, he was let out for a while.
The whole of the External Affairs sector of the platform was normally deserted. This was true now. No one really liked External Affairs, the people who, if they had their way, would likely go back and wipe out all the original members of Re-Omega so that no one would be able to start it up in the first place.
The only really interesting place near that part of the station was situated nearby, a short walk from both the Spaceport and the offices of Sep. The place was inhabited mainly by Terrans, although the occasional Protoss could be seen somewhere in the background. Zerg sometimes came in but given the strong reaction that had been discovered to take place one time that a Hydralisk had tried something, no one was quite sure what it had been, most of the time they were banned or simply not allowed to drink anything stronger than water.
Franky tossed his ID card across the bar as he sat down and took a glance at the menu behind the bar. It wasn't that this place had much variety, but occasionally there was something special. Franky took it in, in a single glance and after considering for literally a second, ordered himself some of the Korhal beer that they'd been importing recently. It had a special kick, and the fact that most Terrans found it addictive wasn't a problem.
Franky was most of the way through his first glass when a hand fell on his shoulder. He took a glance at it. The spikes would have suggested a Zerg, but most of the rest would have suggested a Terran. The hand ended in a jump-suit similar to Franky's but with blue ribbing down it instead of gold.
"Hi Dave." Franky turned and looked at the two meter tall figure of Dave, another of Kyle's charges.
Dave had been human, not Terran, up until a Re-Omega science vessel had been damaged whilst on a Time Jump and had fallen out almost right on top of his house. Dave and his brother decided to investigate and at some point Dave had touched a Protoss crystal.
According to the internal sensors, the energies within the crystal had discharged into Dave, flinging him backward against a tank full of Zerg Bio-toxins. The result of this had been that Dave had gradually mutated into something that, while still appearing human when he had a jumper and trousers on, had the combined PSI talent of several dozen Templar, and the nasty parts of a Zerg. Which Zerg, no one wanted to find out.
Dave sat down and tossed his ration card across the counter. Being able to travel through the multiverse meant that Re-Omega was on perpetual war footing, not always by their own choice, but with a determination to get the job done regardless. So although food replicators meant that no one ever really needed to go hungry, most members of Re-Omega who couldn't help it weren't allowed to pig themselves.
This meant most people.
The barman, a Terran from the remains of Kethakis, a one time Protoss colony that was obliterated by the Confederates, picked up the card and slotted it in with the rest along the back wall. The light came up after he gave it a whack and he turned back to Dave.
"Havin' yer usual?"
The man had an accent, which went all the way back to the Earth according to Dave. Something for had got him into a bit of trouble, as the UED forces had also gone all the way back to the Earth. And would likely come back again. The Earth was not popular.
Dave nodded before turning back to Franky. "I hear that you’re going out. Where's it going to be this time?"
Franky shrugged. "Some place called Vehalta. Pre-FTL culture, no idea that we exist, possible take over attempt by the Dominion. What more could you ask for in an assignment?"
Dave leaned back against the bar and picked up his mug as it arrived. "Sunny beach, good running track, plenty to eat..."
Franky took a playful punch at him. "You know what I mean. Anyway what about you? Ain't you out yet?"
Dave huffed. "Ky-al has decided to keep me in. Says I need some down time."
Franky grimaced at Dave's deliberate mispronunciation of Kyle's name. Shortly after he had arrived, Dave had picked up basic Protoss and had learnt that 'Ky-al', pronounced only slightly differently from 'Kyle', was meant someone who was lazy or wasted time. Ky-al had become his keeper's nickname.
"Lucky you. I think I need some down time." Franky tried not to mention that it was largely due to having nightmares. Even Dave had nightmares, admittedly less precise ones. But Dave had the full power of a Protoss/ Human/ Zerg hybrid to face them with. Franky had the knowledge of Re-Omega and the personality of an eight year old. Who was occasionally afraid of the dark.
