Galactic Dawn: Running Story of the Starcraft&Metroid Campaign, 2005.

Log 1: Mission to the Biologic Space Labs
Biologic Space Limited is the largest supplier of quality research and instrumentation equipment in the Koprulu sector. Using their expertise in the generation of experimental design apparatus, BSL has hired on hundreds of thousands of top research scientists, and boasts the greatest philanthropic effect on the union of races of any private company. BSL backs this claim with, year after year, some new device, method, or system that benefits galactic society, working ever onward toward peace and prosperity for all peoples.

-Mr. Andressyan, I am Dr. Jones.
-What the hell is this all about?
-If you do not mind, Mr. Andressyan, I will be the one to ask the questions.

There was a bright light above his head, and Karl could make out the shadow of his questioner as a tall man in a black greatcoat. What he had done to get to this small, empty room he could not remember. Had he even deserved any of this?
On command, the light above his head dimmed slightly, and Dr. Jones produced a tablet screen from inside his large coat with a gloved hand.

-I would like you to watch this and tell me what you see.

On the screen were numbers in the corners in white, overtop quickly flashing images of what appeared to be Karl himself in his room. Reading. Sleeping. Building lego bricks. Going about the things that he had remembered doing for the past few months. Over and over. Asleep, awake. He had spent a lot of time in his room. Dr. Jones spoke again:

-What it looks like to me is a bored man, Mr. Andressyan. You spend much of your time in your barracks, reading your books, working out strategies for war games...I have record of you getting a comrade to "cover for you" three times in the past month for the only duty shifts you had been assigned. All in all, nothing untoward. Nothing reprehensible. Certainly nothing to get you here to meet me.
-As my original question: for what reason am I being held?
-We are coming to that point, but first another question. Tell me what you see here.

Dr. Jones produced another similarly sized tablet screen, while letting the other loop on its own on the stand in front of him that Karl had before not noticed. The new screen was mostly black, and in one corner were date and timestamps of security videos similar to the ones on the other screen. The first screen paused, and Karl noticed that the numbers were the same. Dr. Jones then dragged a gloved finger across the screen from the corner, dragging with it the black mask, and showing a picture of Karl once again, this time in a location that he didn't recognize.

-Clearly you can understand my disquiet when I saw this video, Mr. Andressyan. Here you are in your room, and here you are again, hacking into mid-level research data through a secured mainframe. Perhaps you would like to see what the damage had been?

It struck Karl that Dr. Jones questions were more like statements, but at this point thought his best path was to let the interrogator go about his work. Maybe the answer was coming on the next tablet screen. Sure enough, Dr. Jones produced another screen, this one about one-third the size of the others, about as large as a post card. The screen was pink, and then a cartoon bunny rabbit appeared, followed by the words "April Fools." It had been a long time since Karl had bothered to keep track of the Terran months.

-As it turns out, the research data was uncorrupted and entirely intact. This extra file was found thereon, and with this and the footage of you fiddling with the mainframe, my only choice was to bring you here casually to ask about it. Could you have been hiding your talents from us for this long? What is your real expertise, Mr. Andressyan? Perhaps a knack for computer intrusion?

At the word "intrusion," Karl received a flash of a memory from two weeks previous. He had been doing well at a game of Tarsonis Texas hold-em, had cleaned out the Pathomorph friend of theirs, and had heard him get frustrated and swear vengeance. No one had thought much of it, as he routinely swore vengeance against people and inanimate objects alike whenever his temper blew, which was often. This prank, however, would seem adequate comeuppance, and the Pathomorph could easily have doctored the security signal to replace his image with Karl's. Karl prepared the story as an explanation to Dr. Jones when the door opened and an I-tech called his interrogator to the door.


-Paging Dr. Tam. Dr. Tam, please report to the detention level.
The crate would have to wait. It had shown no signs of needing his attention up until then, but Tam couldn't shake the notion that he had to keep a close eye on it as much as he could spare. Lately, spare time had been plentiful enough, but thanks to the crate, sleep had been scarce. Tam decided that he could risk a few minutes apart from the crate. It was safely in the mvsf locker after all.
Tam hadn't been to the detention level before, and navigating his way there turned into a proper challenge. After asking for directions from three prefects of various disciplines, Tam found an engineer on one of the lower levels who agreed to escort him down. Tam was slightly winded and grumpy when he arrived.

-Ah, greetings Dr. Tam. I am I-tech Rogers. I need you to sign these forms in your capacity as acting commander of your squadron. Consider this prompt and proper notification that a team member has been detained for questioning.
-Questioning? You mean you abducted my friend!
-Please reserve your questions about the incident for those in the know, Dr. Tam. I just run the papers.

Tam hurriedly signed where it looked like he should, and finished with an initial on the last document. He asked the I-tech where he could take his questions and Rogers answered that he should rejoinder central command. At least he knew how to get there.
After another half-hour took Tam to the office of central command, where he joined his commander, Jim Raynor. Raynor explained what bureau had reported to him, about the break-in, the fur-bearin' postcard, and the arrest. Tam knew almost immediately what had really happened, and explained to Raynor about the poker game, the promise of vengeance, and the special skill of his friend. Tam left with knowledge of how to handle the affair with detention, and spared no time, as Raynor had asked him to report, with his available team, later that day.

Tam returned to the detention level, this time knowing the way well enough to make it in twenty minutes. More winded and more grumpy than the time before, he explained his situation to the I-tech, who left for the interrogation room.

Dr. Jones turned from the door to Karl, and dimmed the light above his head. Ambient light seemed to filter in, and Dr. Jones released the fisticuffs that had been keeping him in the chair.
-It seems there were...other factors for bureau to consider. Your team leader has come to get you, and it seems you will have a mission soon as well. Perhaps we have seen the last of these disruptive outbursts from the ennui of our mvsfs?
His last question still sounded like a thinly veiled threat, but Karl was simply happy to be the hell out of there. That the company even had a place like this was frightening enough, let alone that he could have been abducted and held there without explanation. Karl left the room, and saw Dr. Tam, who then explained what had happened.
Tam had more paperwork to fill out, both to finalize the release of Andressyan, and to offer up those responsible to proper questioning. Another five minutes saw the Pathomorph and the Byunei, Moltar, enter the room. They cast curious smiles at Tam's dour expression, and giggled as Dr. Jones politely escorted them into another nearby room. Karl peered in for a moment to see if it resembled the one he had been in, and to his surprise, it was instead a cozy looking lounge with pop-art on the walls and a coffee table, comfy chairs, and a vase with flowers. It was the first time that Karl had even seen flowers on the station. Jones closed the door, and Tam and Andressyan read the sign on the outside, out of view before, that read: "Interrogation Room B."
They exchanged a glance, and returned to quarters.

Hours later, Tam, Andressyan, and Mericor were assembled in chambers before Commander Raynor.
-Gentlemen, we finally have a mission for you. This is going to stress the "mobile" part of the term Mobile Versatile Security Force. If it were me, I would prefer to have the whole team go, but I don't anticipate your absolutely needing your other two team members, whom bureau tells me will be out of service for at least forty-eight hours. On with the mission.

Raynor described how the team was to make a run to the secret Biologic Space Labs facility in orbit of SR-388, postulatized previous home planet of the monstrous scourge of galactic civilization: the Metroids. The team was to travel to a SLAM gate near Moria, then to a privately owned orbital platform over Tyrador9 where they were to check in with the BSL office manager there, Ensign Farnung. From Tyrador, their pilot, Ensign Jeremy Redd, would be able to plot a green-line to the BSL facility. Once there, the team was to collect seven DACs, and return them to Tarsonis headquarters. The DACs, durable archiving computers, had to be verified before delivery, and for this the team would be given a datarod-decoder.
Bureau reported that transmission from the remote facility had ceased shortly after a minor incident involving the privately hired security force. They suspected that the DACs would reveal what had caused the incident, and what had happened to Biologic Space Labs.

-Questions, gentlemen?
Andressyan and Mericor began to pipe up, both with childish smiles on their faces. Tam interrupted them:
-No, sir. I think we have all we'll need.
Above the sudden rush of inane questions about backup, explosives, cloaking devices, other guns, and rations, Raynor replied:
-You know, you guys remind me of me. Dismissed.

The team departed, with orders, to the docking bay. Redd had the dropship all prepared, but had a question for Dr. Tam.

-All clear to run-up except for one thing, commander.
-What, what is it?
-You seem to have one more ammunition crate than command specified. Is there something about it I should know?
-Wait. What? Let me see it.

Tam peered in the large cargo compartment of the dropship, that would from time to time house soldier, supplies, equipment, and rarely, enemies. Inside were the spare suits for each of he, Mericor, Andressyan, Redd, and the ship engineers: Maddocks and Guay. Inside was the ammo crate that he had requisitioned for the mission, and another one to match that he recognized, but couldn't remember placing on the ship himself...or ordering anyone else to. He replied to Redd.

-Ah, that's for a private experiment of mine. Part of my thesis was on the method of trans-spatial travel and the subsequent effect on sensitive cargo. Don't worry about the extra box. I'll be working with it while we travel.
-If you say so, sir. I'm required to ask.
-Yes, well, no problem at all.

Tam did not like to have to lie. It was in his recollection the second time he had had to do so for the sake of a woman. And this one he hadn't even really met yet. Then, there was also the promise to O-lcu, and the fact that if the sentient inside the crate decided to wake up without him around, there was no telling what would happen to her, or the team, in the aftermath.
The math was soon enough upon them as it was.
Ensign Redd took the ship out with no difficulties. Mericor had taken with him a few of his favorite toys, which it seems human resources did not, after all, object to. Andressyan bore a wistful grin. He was glad to be going to work for once, gladder still to have battle-command over the squad should the water get hot, but then, there was the mystery behind the whole thing. If his comrade would really need all those grenades, wouldn't they need more than three guns? And as he surveyed the deck, Andressyan noticed that they lacked the kind of raw talent that he would have preferred for a real tussle. Would a combat medic, a demolitions expert, and a master tactician have the pepper they would need? How much pepper would they need?

Redd approached the SLAM gate near Moria in a few short hours. He sequenced the vessel for transport by the control tower, and then advised the crew to prepare. Third in sequence, second, first...
The whole crew felt the sudden tug of spacetime distorting for their convenience. Though they had all been through SLAM tubes before, the feeling was far too intense to get used to. Tam, Andressyan, and Mericor felt nauseous, but the feeling would not last long. Fifteen seconds, thirteen, eight...
The exit was a great relief to the crew. Entering and leaving a sector-long chamber of dilated time feels like it happens in a few seconds, but once the temporal wake of the ship's inertia catches up, the clocks reset and it becomes clear that hours have passed. SLAM travel enables ships to travel at warp-equivalent speed across the sector directly through whatever obstacles are in the way, so long as none of them have been encoded for time-distortion as well.
Redd took the ship toward the Tyrador orbital platform, and noticed a problem.
-Sir, there appears to be something unusual about the platform.
Tam responded -What is it, Redd?
-Sir, the control tower is showing "unmanned" status, which isn't supposed to happen for another few hours by their listed schedule. It could be maintenance, but command should have notified me if it was going to affect the flight plan.
-Bring us in by unmanned tower protocol. We'll take the team in hot.

Redd moved the ship into a bay similar in size and look to their own. The station lights were out, and a minor alert droned in systematic pulse over and over.

Tam: Andressyan. Lock and load, I officially cede command to you.
Andressyan: Understood. Mericor, see if the door works. Tam, I want you to go with him. Maddocks, check on this alarm, and tell us if you can figure out why it's on.

Mericor discovered that the door indeed, did work. He activated the personal cloaking device that command had lent him for the duration of the mission, and felt the familiar cool rush of the field manifesting over his body. He would be able to activate the psionic shield in a flash if he needed, in the meantime it would be difficult to keep both up and running. The warning pulse continued. Mericor opened the door and looked down the chamber. He then manifested a psionic evocation to resemble some of the teams flashlights, and moved the dancing lights down the hall in either direction. Tam and Andressyan joined him.

Andressyan: See anything?
Mericor: Negative. I thought I heard something, though.
Tam: I think I heard it, too...what's that?

Tam noticed an out-of-place shadow down the corridor that quickly escaped from view. Mericor, still cloaked, inched ahead of the others. They all watched as suddenly the shadows became creature-shaped, and attacked the lights ahead of them. Thanks to Mericor's successful surprise, the team was able to consider the attack well in advance of their would-be ambushers.
The monsters themselves were about four feet in height. They each had a single glowing red eye in their central mass, out of which stretched three spindly, claw bearing appendages, two in front and one behind. Another leg-looking outcropping grew out of the top of the body. As the team was generally familiar enough with the history of galactic civilization to know of the assault on Æther, they recognized their attackers as Ing warriors, a ruthless and heedless lot of chitinous fury.
Fury, it seemed, was on their side, however, as a quick volley of fire from Tam and Andressyan finished off two of the Ing before the monsters even saw them. The third was tougher, and managed to charge and leap at Mericor after taking fire. Mericor reacted by slaying the beast with his psionic blade.

Tam: Is it safe for us to assume that everyone else on the station is dead?
Andressyan: I don't think so. Ensign Farnung was a military man like us, after all.
Maddocks(comm): Sir, I checked the log on the warning pulse. I can read off a time but not an identity. Seems this all happened fifteen minutes ago.

Fifteen minutes, Tam thought. Maybe if he hadn't had that difficulty with the cargo they would have arrived before all this happened, and left without a worry. Now they were mired down in dark corridors on a strange station with Ing crawling around in the shadows. What else could go wrong?

Maddocks checked the next door, which opened gradually to reveal the central atrium of the station. They exited onto the upper level catwalk, and followed a directory right to the BSL office. Maybe Farnung would have an explanation.
An icy light shocked the team, and their blood ran cold as an authoritative voice sounded from behind them:
-Drop your weapons and stand down, or be fired upon.
The voice was stern, and certainly a Chozo. Andressyan and Tam lowered their weapons in compliance with the stranger's bark. They turned to see the Chozo himself, as well as five or six Terran battle suits difficult to discern through the bright lights. They were flying colors of at least four different Terran factions, all of which had been disbanded decades previous. The Chozo continued.
-I am Septoth of the Kellar. We have come to stem the tide of destruction that your company has loosed upon the galaxy. More specifically at this station, you are responsible for having brought the shadow-monsters aboard.
His tone hardened momentarily.
-Unhide your third warrior or forfeit your lives!
Mericor grudgingly decloaked, thinking that Septoth must have been prepared for quite a tussle if he had bothered to bring detection equipment along. Clearly the team had not been prepared for this.

Septoth: Answer. Why did you bring the shadow-monsters? Why did you bring the Ing?
Tam(comm): Maddocks, Redd, see if you can...Redd? Redd!
Septoth: We have found your ship as well. Answer.
Mericor: We have nothing to do with this. We're as surprised about the Ing as you are, and probably as upset. We were sent on a routine collection mission.

Septoth turned and muttered something to a before hidden SCV who moved behind the group and out of sight. In a minute, the SCV returned, and Septoth turned to the team once again.

Septoth: It seems that you are telling the truth. Thus, you will be allowed to help us with our mission.
Andressyan: Hold on. Your mission?
Septoth: I told you we were here to stem the tide of destruction. Hold still while I ensure your cooperation.

With a gesture, two more SCVs appeared and approached each of the team. After a few seconds, Tam realized that they were deactivating the powered feature of the suits. They would be immobile. Septoth made a curious motion with his hands, and the three began to float in mid-air. He took them to the lower level, where his team spread to the corners. In the middle of the wide atrium was an inactive fountain. Another of the Kellar placed a rod with a glowing orb atop it in the center of the fountain. Over the warning pulse, the team could hear the device cycle up and activate a bubble of mild orange around them, crackling with unfamiliar energies. Septoth released them and activate their armor once more, and suggested to the team that they stay in the bubble. The anti-matter bubble would shortly attract no fewer than forty Ing of various sizes to their vicinity.
From the darkness they hovered and howled, sometimes manifesting to check the situation, drawn ever closer to the light. Whenever they would manifest a physical form, Septoth's team would fire from the corners, and Tam, Andressyan, and Mericor would do likewise from their posts. The Ing seemed to have developed new talents since their attack on Æther, as Andressyan found out when he took a full-on blast from a suicide-bomber Ing. Others had vicious red cutting beams that they would emit from their eyes. Some crashed through the bubble, only to burst, sending shards of their bodies toward Andressyan and Tam. Mericor cloaked and took station outside the bubble, lobbing grenades at the bunch. Andressyan fell, wounded, to the ground, his suit damaged and his seal broken. Tam spared an attack on the Ing for a moment to attempt to revive him. Mericor stabbed another Ing successfully with his blade. Septoth's team continued to fire from all directions. In a few brief minutes, the unlikely allies had vanquished the Ing from the station, or so they thought. Septoth spoke up.

-Warriors of BSL, though your sin is great, your mettle is proved. I must take my squad to secure other parts of this station, however, we may soon crash into the planet if the trajectory is not altered. There must still be one in the control room. Go there and restore our orbit. Run!

Tam restored Andressyan to relative health. Mericor wasted no time getting to the control tower. Finding the door locked, he prepared some of his grenades for a special purpose, and prayed that his skill would not fail him this time. Tam and Andressyan approached the door.
-What is it?
-The door is locked. Stand back, I'm going to try and blast it off.
Mericor hit a switch, and a bright circle of fiery light sent smoke rushing out of the thin crease of the door. It hissed and collapsed to the catwalk floor with a thud and clang, the perfect door demolition. Mericor cloaked once again, and snuck in, seeing the form of a Luminoth at the controls to the station. It worked on, unbothered by the thud of the door. Mericor stealthily approached it from behind, and stabbed where it would hurt. A black shadow with glowing red eyes lifted insubstantially from the form of the Luminoth, who collapsed to the floor. Tam rushed in, and checked on the body, still alive. Tam then quickly restored the platform's orbit using his general good-knowledge of the workings of devices. A sweep of the medibeam worked to restore the Luminoth Mericor had felled, and Andressyan checked in with Ensign Redd on the ship once more. Septoth replied, and demanded to talk to them.

What could they really do?

The three escorted the Luminoth, who could not manage to utter an English sound, to their docking bay. They met with Septoth once more, who explained that he was keeping Ensign Farnung captive until further notice, and that he planned to reveal this atrocity to galactic civilization soon. Moreover, he had heard of a similar incident on a secret station elsewhere, and he would travel there too, to gather information about the workings of BSL on the trans-sectorial scale. Septoth advised the crew to abandon whatever mission they were on for BSL, and seek him out later. Septoth and his crew then left.

Mericor: So, now what do we do?
Andressyan: I didn't think it was really a question, we...
Tam: Excuse me, but we're out of the fight now. I'm in charge again. Septoth took our prisoner, and the guy we were supposed to report to. It seems like the only thing to do is complete the mission.
Mericor: But you heard what he said, he's..
Tam: We'll have to get to them quicker, that's all. They would have to have an informant to know about the DACs, so we may be able to slip in and get them without their notice.
Andressyan: And how are we supposed to get there ahead of Septoth? He already left.
Tam: Hah. I noticed his pilot charting a course. He was using only two anchor points, so he couldn't locate the third. That means they have a low likelihood of finding the correct green-line, and will probably end up hours away from the labs. Whereas we have the course already punched in. No sweat, right Redd?
Redd: You got it, sir. Let's head out.

With that, the team left Tyrador as if it had been part of their mission all along to stay awhile and help a group of eco-terrorists thwart the rise of shadowy monsters. Redd laid in the course using the three anchor points that defined a precise exit location, and sped the ship along, this time under its own spacetime dilation drive, which had a gentle tug in comparison to the SLAM gate from before. The ship arrived, as Tam had predicted, well ahead of Septoth. Redd reported that they would have about an hour before the hostiles arrived, but that the team should take a look at the station.
Andressyan, Tam, and Mericor looked at where there should have been a seven-podded station and saw instead the debris of a massive explosion. Hundreds of human lives and billions of marks worth of equipment all gone. This had been the "incident" that bureau had heard about. Andressyan, at least, could remember other stories about Samus Aran leaving some locality with a massive explosion in her wake. Redd then reported solemnly:
-Sir, we should still be able to find the DACs and scoop them aboard. They were designed to survive the self-destruct mechanism.
-Do it.
With no time to waste, Redd set about locating and scooping the DACs. The first three were easy. Ten minutes of their hour gone. Another thirty minutes saw only two more DACs. Five down, two to go, and ten minutes left. Redd found six and seven with three minutes to spare.
-Sir, they'll be here any minute. If I try to chart a course from here, we will likely phase into a chunk of debris and become a physics problem. What are my orders?
Andressyan voiced a suggestion: Let me instruct him. I think I know how we can hide amidst the debris.
Tam: Sounds great. Do it.
Andressyan approached the pilot and instructed him about where to place the ship and how to run the engines. After five minutes, Andressyan was satisfied that they would remain hidden. Redd cut engines and powered down. The ship ran cold, with each of the crew in their sealed suits.
The Kellar ship arrived, viewable to the team only through their portholes. Well disguised as part of the space debris remains of Biologic Space Labs, the team watched as the Kellar ship patrolled back and forth, in search for the DACs the team had already taken. With a stroke of luck, the Kellar did not know what the DACs looked like, or even if they had survived the explosion. After an entire hour of waiting, the team finally witnessed the Kellar ship depart. Redd suspected that it looked slightly smaller than before, but decided not to worry the team about it. They were all too relieved to care much, anyway.
Redd powered up the ship, and the team deactivated their seals and breathed in the stale air of their ship once more. (Thanks to years of BSL research, mvsf sealed suits are environmentally conditioned with a special mix of oxygen, nitrogen, ozone, helium, and RG-788X. RG-788X is the seven-hundred eighty-eighth experimental research gas designed as a mixed sedative and stimulant. 788 has the fewest yet side effects of other psychologically conditioning substances in the series, and will improve the combat effectiveness of 99% of mvsf troops in Zero-G. The chemical also dopes waning bone structure with a calcium lattice to help prevent degeneration. Side effects of extended use include hysteria, hallucinations and delusions, insomnia, narcolepsy, off-colored urine, colon cancer, and drymouth.)
Redd charted the reverse course to Tyrador9 station, and in a few minutes, the team was touch-and-going passed the still unmanned tower. Another approach to the SLAM gate back to Moria saw the team as first in line. Andressyan this time became violently ill, having been through some physically taxing experiences already, and vomited. With another small trip back to the station ahead, the team had the mission's end in sight. Tam couldn't wait to have another talk with O-lcu about BSL bureau, who seemed to be an effective shadow government in control of their lives. Mericor couldn't wait to have another go at designing explosives, having gotten some ideas from his experience opening that door on Tyrador9 station. Andressyan couldn't wait to get out of his now sullied and damaged suit. Maybe a warm bath. Andressyan closed his eyes and relaxed. Tam prepared to verify the DACs with the decoder rod.
Redd swung the ship about, but couldn't avoid the incoming rockets. The entire craft shook and rocked. Mericor kept his footing. Andressyan and Tam fell to the floor. Andressyan felt delirious. Guay and Maddocks stumbled and hit their heads together, knocking each other unconscious. Redd drew his sidearm and aimed at Mericor's head.
Redd: You have no idea what you're up against. I remember what happened to your commander; let me show you.
Mericor (while cloaking): What are you doing? We're under attack!
Not waiting for a response to his question, Mericor activated his psionic blade and attacked Redd. Redd, still in his armor, let his guard down enough to activate the drop mechanism on the control deck. Mericor struck again at this gesture, but could not interrupt Redd in his action. With a grim smile on his face, Redd looked for a split second into the bay through the cockpit door, and watched as Andressyan and Tam vanished into outside space. (The Terran dropship's drop mechanism utilizes closed-field warp control developed from a study of Protoss systems. The mechanism links the locations of two points in space no more than around ten feet apart, and then switches them, much like flipping a coin or turning a tube sock inside out. The underside of the dropship is thus the most vulnerable part, as having thick armor would limit the effectiveness of the drop mechanism, or create a heavy energy drain on the ship's drive, as increasing the distance of closed-field warp control much more than ten feet would require more energy than theoretically exists in the known universe. However, with a simple drop of ten feet with no solid to provide a natural enclosure to the warp field, the dropped matter manifests in the usual ten feet, and shuttles outward through what is called "chambered warp burn." The same mysterious energies that Tassadar used to defeat the Overmind for the first time form fluctuating bands that whip the dropped matter much like being thrown through an endless field of tall grasses.)
Mericor barely noticed his friends' fate as he struck the killing blow on the treacherous Ensign Jeremy Redd. Redd collapsed, the eerie and evil grin now stuck on his smug, dead face. Mericor turned to see two unfamiliar terran soldiers in full battle armor pointing flechette launchers at his general direction. It was then that he noticed Redd had also damaged his personal cloaking device, with fire from his sidearm that Mericor had before not noticed. No time to lob a grenade. Out of tricks. The soldiers, Kellar, spoke.
-Drop your weapon and lend us your assistance. Septoth is pleased that you found the traitor who vanquished your commander. Where are the others?
-That madman dropped them into space, they'll hit Moria at heavy-G if they don't warp-burn to death on the way.
The soldiers used their comm link, speaking to the at once visible yacht in a language that Mericor didn't recognize, and he spoke Khalai.
-We may be able to save them. Regain control of your vessel before we suffer a fate similar to what you described.
Mericor took the helm, and faked enough to stabilize their trajectory. The Kellar cloaking yacht dove toward the planet, and returned in a few seconds with Tam and Andressyan. The Kellar soldiers requested that Mericor accompany them elsewhere, and he complied.

Andressyan awoke on a sick bay bed in an unfamiliar room. A chozo doctor in flowing white robes hovered about him with tools and probes, monitoring his recovery. He soothed Andressyan in a deep, warm voice, saying that Andressyan had been through warp-burn, and that he had experience treating this condition. Mericor stepped into the room to visit his now conscious-once-more friend. Andressyan peered to his side to see Tam still out cold on the next bed over.
In a few minutes, the stern and authoritative Septoth joined them, dismissing the doctor as he entered. Septoth described how he had known that one of their team would turn against them, but didn't know which. He related the story, as he knew it, of the destruction of Biologic Space Labs, and the flight of Samus Aran from the planet SR-388. BSL had been breeding Metroids and x-parasites, natural enemies, for military applications. Fearing that the power of these combined forces could end galactic civilization, Samus activated the self-destruct mechanism in low orbit over the planet, as to eradicate the monsters remaining at surface level. Succeeding in squelching the threat, Samus was driven mad with the realization that BSL itself had such sinister plans. With that, and the side-effects of a sequence of near-death and bodily-altering experiences, Samus retreated to a distant planet, and established a base with the intent of detonating a massive khyadarin crystal deposit, much like the cataclysm of the planet Jeno, home of the Byunei. Septoth continued, telling Mericor and Andressyan that what he needed from them was the decoder rod in order to backup the DAC security files on his own terminals, and publish a media installment in the public sector, to wake up galactic civilization to the evils of BSL. Andressyan objected:
-If we don't return with the DACs, then command will want to know why. If we tell them you took them, they'll come after you with a larger force. If we don't return, they'll come after you with a larger force. What we need to do is return with the DACs, verified and with no thumbprint, and explain that we fought off some renegades, or even say that Redd died defending the vessel when the Ing attacked.
-Perhaps you misunderstand, Andressyan. I am taking the data. If you wish to have the DACs, then you will have to wait for an Aiur day while we make a copy. (An Auir day is about thirty-six terran hours of time. Since the Protoss method has been influential in engineering and economics applications of macro-society in the common era, time is often kept in terms of days on the planet Auir. Those who use this terminology are usually trying to sound more precise or more educated, as relative time is just as useful to an absolute as measured on a distant planet, somewhat arbitrarily.)
Mericor got an idea.
-Well...we could have the engineers make the engines look like they were damaged. We'll keep the story true up to the point where we were fired upon by the Kellar yacht. You copy the data, then we take the DACs back to the station, and once we're there, Guay and Maddocks run their "repairs" on the engine systems so it looks like we spent that time limping home from Moria.
-An excellent idea, terran. Should you decide to leave the employ of BSL, which I strongly recommend, I would allow you all to join the Kellar.

When Tam finally awoke, the team sat and discussed their situation. Joining Septoth immediately would strand their two remaining comrades on the BSL station, with no telling what would happen to them. At best, they would be killed. At worst, they would be commissioned to hunt down the team, with a rare and intimate knowledge of how to do just that. Septoth's technicians would leave a thumbprint no matter how carefully they operated on the DACs, leaving evidence against the lie they had agreed to tell BSL command and bureau. That would take time, though. If they were to act quickly, Andressyan could help Maddocks and Guay load supplies while Mericor collected their friends from the brig and Tam reported their story to command. Then Tam was confident in his ability to pilot their craft and other loot out of the bay and make their escape. Meanwhile, Mericor would create some kind of diversion, leaving BSL the ability to doubt that their mvsf was even still alive. The team would fly to some out of the way part of the sector and look for work. Tam wanted to help Septoth stop Aran's cataclysm of Kyrador, and the team agreed inasmuch as to make that specific decision after successfully escaping from the clutches of BSL.
Septoth finished with the DACs and returned the crew and their cargo to their then nameless ship. Tam took the helm, and guided the ship toward their home, and the fortress of the enemy, in BSL Tarsonis headquarters. The next half-day would require crucial timing and skill from each of them, with no telling how it would work out. The team felt the easy tug of warp as they shuttled toward the hardest day of their lives.

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