Captain Edward Kart poured another cup of alcohol into his mouth and grinned as he felt the burn in his mouth. He was a man in his twenties. It was a common age, for most mercenaries don’t live past 40. He had three pistols attached to his side and wore an army uniform, which was, again, a scene frequently seen in the mercenary forces.
Edward stumbled to the bar and grabbed another bottle of bear after tossing a stack of credits to the bartender. Mercenaries preferred to live in the moment and spent their hard earned credits on things that could diverge their attention from the harsh reality, including woman and drinks. They knew very well they might become a piece of floating body the next day, but they didn’t care. That was what made mercenaries a dangerous enemy.
Edward took another drink. Suddenly his comm was lit, which signaled for him to report to his commander immediately.
The man hesitantly stood up. If it was a few days ago he would have taken his time and report after a few more drinks and perhaps a gorgeous lady, but things changed.
At first everything was completely normal. Mercenaries completed missions and earned rewards. Frequent bar fights took over the life of several mercanries every day. Several mercenary forces dominated Deadman’s Port. Edward spent his time either on leading his own flying squad on missions or on wasting the reward on alcohol and whores.
Until one of those powerful forces, the one lead by his boss, the infamous hacked Colonel Orlan, messed with the wrong person and got hit in the face with his own nuke. Edward always felt lucky because he was on the bed of a pretty blonde when the nuke exploded. The blast wiped out his squad, but he survived.
Before Edward could move on to a new leader a wave of crisis washed over the port. Following Mira Han’s mysterious death that was merely hours after the destruction of Orlan, most of the merc leaders suddenly announced their support toward a new leader. One known by his man as Liam. There were some exceptions, and all of them suddenly died of all sorts of accidents. Before the basic mercenaries could realize what happened they were already united under a single banner.
This Liam was different. He installed actual orders to the mercenaries. They were taught discipline and the concept of obeying orders, and those that violated orders were executed. The only thing that kept the mercenaries in line was the handsome salary Liam paid. Still, Edward had no intention of being later.
The man got to the local starport in a speedster. The guards at the door examined his credentials before allowing entry. He walked into a meeting room and saw the big boss himself.
“Sir.” Edward tried to be as professional as possible.
“Captain Edward, I heard you are the best pilot in our fleet.” Liam smiled widely and continued without waiting for a response. “That’s great, because we might need every ounce of your expertise in this mission.”
Edward smiled at the praise. “I am flattered, but what is this mission about exactly?”
“Before I tell you this, keep in mind that if what I am about to tell you gets leaked, then you’ll be a dead man, my allies and I will hunt you down until your dead.”
Edward nodded. He had no doubt of the man’s promises.
“So here’s the plan…” Liam started…
----------------------------------------
Tyrador VIII was heavily guarded. A few days ago Emperor Mengsk suddenly declared that the Moebius Foundation had betrayed the Dominion. It raised a wave of questions to the government. Common questions were raised. One of the most confused was the emperor’s son, the prince of the Dominion and the “leader” of Moebius Foundation, Valerian Mengsk himself. The Dominion ignored the questions and quickly dispatch three fleets to the planet and halted any transportation.
The Moebius ignored the demand from the Dominion to surrender all arms. Instead they mobilized their ships and hired large groups of mercenaries in an attempt to combat the Dominion.
The Moebius was outnumbered. The Dominion fleets were lead by General Warfield, a famous general and a loyal supporter of Mengsk. The fleets contained 36 battlecruisers and hundreds of supporting vessels. On the other side, the Foundation itself had few spaceships that could engage the Dominion Minotaur class battlecruisers. Still, Moebius Foundation had their own advantages. They were fighting on their home planet, which was packed with all sorts of planetary defenses. Rail cannons and missile turrets could make the intruders suffer much more damage than the defenders.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
Moebius Foundation also made an effort to hire mercenaries with large rewards. Even though the enemy was the ruling government, the mercenaries’ desire still drew at least a dozen ships to their aid.
----------------------------------------
The command center of the terran fleets was located in the Gorgon battlecruiser Helios, General Warfield’s flagship. It was on the cover of the cruiser that the general would watch battles unfold from below and, occasionally, charge into the field to use the enhanced ship to turn the tide.
For now the general was in a specialized CMC armor. Unlike most captains or officers, Warfield was a true soldier. He despised the cowards that hide behind layers of Dominion men and give out orders that might send these good men to die. The noble general preferred to fight with his men in the line of danger, and this noble act earned him respect from all sides. Eventually he became one of the most trust commanders of Mengsk.
For now, the general was in doubt, and the source of doubt was a girl on the other side of the computer screen. “Jean Turner. The backstabber among the Raiders.” The general had no respect of Jean. He had no idea of Jean’s grand plan and Amon’s existence, so from his point of view Jean was just a woman without honor that betrayed her formal commander in exchange for power. Warfield despised her.
Jean saw the despise, but she didn’t care. “General.” She greeted, but Warfield cut her off.
“How is the Beetle, Jean?” The general looked at the battlecruiser that formerly belonged to the Dominion but was snatched by Jean. Mengsk either forgot about the ship or didn’t want to risk making a powerful hacker enemy for a single Gorgon battlecruiser. “How long did it take you to kill every men and women onboard the ship?”
When Jean hijacked the control system of the Beetle she, via various ways, executed the thousands of crews aboard the ship. Jean remembered the event, but she didn’t realize why the general was so angry about that. Neither Mengsk nor Nova mentioned the incident. It was as if those casualties were forgotten.
Jean had been cut off from emotion for so long that she saw everyone else as emotionless as her. This was only supported by her deal with Mengsk. She forgot that Mengsk was someone that could unleash zerg on billions of Confederacy civilians and Nova was a ghost operative trained to obey orders. Warfield, however, was a normal general loyal to the terran race. He valued his men instead of seeing them as mere numbers. Anyways, Jean ignored the taunt and answered it like it was a real question.
“It took my 3 hours and 21 minutes to execute all 5532 Dominion crew members on the ship.” She replied for a fact. “Now, I noticed your ships were planning for an assault. You need to postpone the attack.”
Warfield struggled to control himself as the girl just spoke as if she was merely saying what she ate for lunch. Behind him, Dominion crew members groaned as well. “We should attack the planet as soon as possible.” The general argued loudly, trying to make his views neutral. “The longer we wait the more prepared Moebius Foundation is going to be. For every hour we wait hundreds more will die.”
Jean wasn’t moved by the furious general. “I have a plan.” She stated concisely without bothering with any more explanations.
Warfield groaned. “Look girl, I don’t know how you convinced emperor Mengsk to make a move on one of the most advanced science research corporations in the Dominion, but I will not stand by and lose an opportunity just because a girl,” A butcher, he silently said, “told me to do so.”
Before Jean could reply an alarm rang throughout the bridge. Warfield turned his attention away for a brief moment. “Report.” He demanded.
“Commander, a small mercenary fleet is approaching. They will be reaching Tyrador VIII in several minutes.” The adjudant reported.
“Shall we intercept them?” An officer asked.
“No.” Jean ordered. “Let them pass.”
Warfield was not happy with the girl’s words. “Why? These mercenaries are obviously hired by Moebius Foundation. We need to pay a much higher price if these forces converge.”
“These forces are part of my plan.”
“Wait…” Warfield processed the information. “But even if those ships get the enemies’ trust and make a surprise attack there was nothing they could do against the majority of the Moebius forces and the planetary defenses. Most of that fleet were mere fighters.”
“Just trust me general.” Jean pleaded, even though Warfield saw no sense of honesty on her well crafted face. “I believe you have read my file. When did I ever make a mistake?”
Warfield was out of words. The girl was right. From what he heard every move Jean made was carefully planned and executed and ended in success, although the success for her might not be the success for her allies. “Fine,” He said. “but if your plan fails my men will not be the only ones dying.”
“Very well.” Jean looked out the window as the mercenary fighters approached the planet a distance away.