.................................................................. .##...##...####...#####....####....####...##...##..######...####.. .##...##..##..##..##..##..##......##..##..###.###..##......##..... .##.#.##..######..#####...##.###..######..##.#.##..####.....####.. .#######..##..##..##..##..##..##..##..##..##...##..##..........##. ..##.##...##..##..##..##...####...##..##..##...##..######...####.. .................................................................. A Shockwave[xpow] fictional production

Note to Readers

This is my first attempt at Starcraft fiction, combining elements of a battle report as well as a novella. I expect this series to run fairly long.

Chapter 1, this installment, is mostly background and setup information. Ideally, I would like to watch a good TvP game to base the remainder of this series on. If I am online and anyone is available to play a TvP game, I'd love to watch. There is no guarantee that I'll use any particular game; I'll probably view a bunch, take a bunch of screenshots, and decide afterward. In Chapter 2, it'll become very clear why I need to watch a game.

Also, if anyone would like to design a title "WarGames" gif for me so I won't have to keep using lame ascii graphics, I'd love to have that too.

Thank you, see you in nohunters,

Shockwave[xpow]

Prelude

Personal Transmission from Admiral Kensha 10-2-1D3080 Dear Victoria, I hope this letter finds you well. I am grieved of the constant sparring with the Protoss occupancy near our borders, and it pains me especially whenever I am reminded how your armada is so perilously close to the front lines. It is my desire that I would be able to join you there, but my services demand of me to at least remain in this sector for the forseeable future. It is not an enviable task that I have, yet I am cheered knowing that it might help bring the victory and peace that we both long for. Our expedition landed safely just a few days ago on Tolaris. The area contains a highly rich source of raw materials that we can use to be completely self sufficient. There are in addition plentiful gas sources from natural geysers that can be converted to fuel sources far more efficient than those currently at the Force's disposal. Our superiors have not determined the feasibility of long term use of these resources, and thus it falls upon me to come to an understanding. It is at once a great service and also a great heartache - this assignment puts me far from home, and the area itself is replete with unknowns. Victoria, I am now concerned about the safety of our outpost here. Scanner sweeps have detected other lifeforms and mechanical entities in nearby proximity. The atmospheric disturbance renders any claims of reliability presumptuous, but it is my fear that a Protoss encampment may be also present on this world. There is no means of determining the size of their forces, but I would say in confidence that they would be hostile toward us and that -- regardless of their current size -- their presence would increase as reinforcements arrive if they ever detected us. The unique nature of the resources available potentially affords a tremendous gain to either of our races should those be secured, and there is no small speculation that such resources may pave the way for new technological developments. It is critical that we claim this planet and tap its potential if those indeed prove to be as promising as research is indicating. The fleet squadron that accompanied me offered to remain and assist us should there indeed be any hostile confrontation with Protoss presence here. I asked our escort - no, I ordered them - to return to the homefront. I forsee your reaction, but I know that your own situation is precarious, and I would not wish to bear the thought of you entering combat lacking the forces that would have instead been serving me here on this forsaken planet. But I am confident that we will be able to prevail alone with what we have. It was my original intention to use our resources to increase the standard of living here so that those luckless enough to have been assigned to my post would be afforded some decent conditions. However, and regretfully, I have instead turned my efforts toward providing a military presence with all available resources and minimizing the amount we spend on our own subsistence. It is a sad sacrifice, but I will insure the safety of my men if not their personal comfort. Even as I write this, we are establishing a base camp for the training and equipping of our soldiers, and we will soon have the capability to even produce heavy vehicles and squadrons of our own from the resources we are mining. Let your any concerns be rested, for I have a fine company in my service. My men are among the most dedicated and will defend our cause even should their own lives be forfeit. I hope never to demand that sacrifice from them; but I am truly blessed with them under my command, and I dare even smile in the face of whatever adversities might befall us here. Remember always that even should the expanse of the universe separates us, my love will always be by your side. It is perhaps a bit romanticized to say this -- but sometimes during nightfall when I gaze toward the setting sun, I see sparkling amongst the stars and I wonder if that is from your mighty fleet watching over our camp from the heavens. Love always, Robert

I: Starcraft

"Would you !@#^&@()# get your butt out of bed? It's almost noon, and I am NOT going to get yelled at again because of you!"

Coaster pried his eyes open, and instantly snapped them shut in pain as the angry sun of Tolaris bit into them. "You know," he managed, "When I said I wanted to wake up with a woman by my side, this wasn't exactly it."

Rea lifted her boot and brought it square down on him. Coaster yelped in surprise and instantly snapped upright from bed, sending sheets flying as he clutched his stomach in pain. Ignoring bad breath and all, Rea yanked on his collar and brought his face a scant inch from hers.

"You go ahead and say that again, and I'll bury your head in the bed so deep that you'll be able the smell the dirty underwear you keep beneath it."

The blood shot eyes just returned her stare. "Seriously, Rae, I like you... sometimes. But more late at night than in the morning."

Rae left the room. Meanwhile, Coaster discovered -- while spending a few painful minutes of extracting his head from his mattress -- that, indeed, he could almost smell his underwear from there. Rubbing his nose in pain, he managed to his feet, stepped away from the bed, and promptly collapsed into his chair sound asleep.

"Why men suck: Men have got to be the worst mistake in all of God's creation. So I wonder what horrible deed I must have committed to be assigned to this piece of dirt world with all of these piece of dirt men. With any luck, I'll get our comm link up to the satellite soon, we'll find out that there's nothing here worth going all crazy about, and they'll send me back home. Meanwhile, you can bet that I'll spend every moment of my time here in the worst misery that any human being could suffer. Yeah, call me a feminist, whatever, but these guys I am cursed to be with are the scum of the earth. They put me in charge of a bunch of techno-geek engineers that think they know everything, and I'm supposed to get a good impression? They're the worse excuses for humanity: they're always late, they're lazy, they're perverted, their breath stinks worse than horseradish in the morning. Even beyond that all that, when they're not thinking about video games and their gadgets... they think about one thing. And they're so - "

A knock on the door interrupted Rea's journaling. "Come in," she grumbled, smashing her fist down on the desk.

A solid 6'2" two hundred pounds of mass dubbed affectionately as "Hard Rock" ducked his way through the door.

"Rock!" exclaimed Rea in shock. Her pen somehow managed to slip from her hands, and she shot down to pick it up, awkwardly attempting to cover her journal with her other hand, all while whipping around in her chair to face him. The balance angels were not smiling upon her at that moment, and she ended up ramming her nose into the cold wooden floor while slipping butt-first out of her chair. Torn pages of journal slid ever so gracefully from the desk and settled not so equally gracefully on the top of her head.

Rock scratched the back of his neck in awkwardness. "Sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to disturb you... I'll umm come back later." He thumbed toward the door.

"No no no...no", stammered Rea quickly, jerking her head up. A piece of journal fluttered down the front of her face, and she angrily snatched it and flung it to the ground. "Eh, what's up, Rock? And you know you can call me 'Rea', right?"

"Yes ma'am, Rea ma'am, right. Ops needs our team back to headquarters, they still want us to solve their satellite problems."

"Yes yes, of course," she responded absently, rubbing her nose. Her eyes were beginning to water, and flat noses are not good for the complexion either. "I'll be right there. Can you wait a sec and we can go together?"

"Ma'am, we need to be there pronto and I still have to find Rapser," said Rock. "I'll meet you there?"

"Umm, yeah, sure sure," sighed Rea. "I mean, of course, yeah go, I'll see you at ops. Umm, dismissed, shoo get going, go find Rapser..."

"Thank you ma'am, I'll get meds to bring something for your nose," Rock said as he left.

Rea stared dumbfounded after him for a few moments. Shaking her head, she pried herself off the floor, grabbed her torn journal pages, and shoved them haphazardly back in her diary. Before stumbling out the door, she finished her journal entry:

"- clueless."

Rapser. Yeah yeah, everyone was always looking for Rapser. Well, it wasn't his fault that they assigned him this worthless technician's job in ops on some planet in the middle of nowhere. He could instead be in the armada, outfitting cruisers with new weaponry or researching support technology for the new valkyrie-class fighters. But nope, nope, he was stuck nowhere, doing nothing, with no hope in sight, doomed to stare at a computer screen until kingdom come.

Except for today. Today, Rapser was lost in the middle of the jungle, covered with moss and debris, rummaging through the wreckage of some craft that had seemingly crashed smack in the heart of the jungles of Tolaris. Truth is, Rapser had detected the craft through his own use of the communications satellite's scanner sweep. Don't tell anyone this, but he'd long since already figured out how to interface with the satellite, how to focus the sweep on a narrow area of interest through the atmospheric interference. This of course required a massive energy discharge from the satellite beyond its normal capability. Then to get it functioning in anything close to a stable manner, base would have to construct its own radar array. And that would require channeling a pretty massive amount of power that could only be generated directly from the central command center unit, and then only sporadically lest the fuses blow as bright as a Christmas tree, and...

Umm, boring... And that's why this is our own secret, because Rapser knew what he'd be in charge of if Kensha ever found out that they needed to construct a radar array, and we all know how much fun that would be.

So instead, Rapser was secretly using the satellite in a very localized, safe manner for his own personal use, and his latest sweep had revealed this somewhat puzzling wreckage in the middle of nowhere. The remains were definitely Terran, but they appeared very old, ancient even, with vines and branches intertwined through the long-rusted metal scrap that once comprised a behemoth spacecraft. Funny to try to imagine how that thing got all the way out here. But oh well, all that mattered was that it was here, and maybe there was something interesting to be learned inside.

Rapser wandered through the dank interior of the ship, crawling his way to what appeared to be the control center. Primitive controls outdated by at least several centuries of technology adorned the cockpit, and Rapser was reminded of the old fighter plane models he saw in antique museums back when he was at Old Earth. But no space faring technology existed back then sans the incredibly inefficient and unstable craft that would occasionally be sent to explore Old Earth's moon. How this thing got here was indeed a puzzle in itself worth Rapser's intellectual caliber.

Even more puzzling was the small metallic disc glimmering back at him admist all the dirt, moss, overgrown plants, and other grossness in the cockpit. Rapser picked it up gingerly and turned it back and forth, marvelling as scintillating patterns of rainbow light reflected off its surface. It appeared to be some sort of data disc, Rapser mused, probably an obsolete form of media storage.

But astounding Rapser above all else was what was depicted on the head of the disc. First was a fascimile of a Protoss warrior. Beside it was the likeness of a Force marine. Next to that was a very unusual-looking alien creature. And written across the disc was the simple title: