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

Log 3: Seeds of the Homeland
Davis hailed the team, and sounded grateful praise for their destroying the attacking craft. None of them seemed to have much attention left for it. Moltar had the presence of mind to reply back that he would expect Davis to relay his "mission accomplished" message to TMS as soon as they departed.
No longer needing escort, Davis dismissed the team. Jargenduv noticed a minor irregularity in Davis's signal, but ignored it, thinking that such a spike could accompany any of a thousand natural happenings, and they had just fought a battle besides.
Tam set a course for Moria, opting to spend the extra time in transit rather than using the SLAM gate to accomplish a number of things. He would get more practice navigating without a gate to punt him. The team would have time to sit in council about where they were really going. Having just found out that Moltar had led them on a mission to help out one of the Koprulu sector's more evil companies (not splitting hairs at all), Tam figured that the team need to talk things out, and a long trip would give them all the time they would need. Also their ship needed a berth, also they would have to name it, also, and most disturbingly, they needed to choose a leader.
Tam had assumed the role in an unqualified manner, which until then had been his only moment of acting out the part of leader well. He was filled with doubt in his own ability, having ignored those doubts until now. With Mericor's message, indeed his dying words, he had blasted away the floodgates that had been holding back Tam's self-doubt. Tam left the controls, confident in that at least, allowing the ship to shuttle along on course unaltered.
He joined the party in their silence, gathered in the main bay of their ship. Tam coughed gruffly, and they looked.

Tam: So...what do we do now?
Moltar: We return and collect what we are owed. I see no further difficulties.
Tam: No? I see a few. Howabout accepting blood-money as payment for killing in the name of the forces of darkness?
Jargenduv: You're exaggerating. Robby here and I think you should take some cleansing breaths.
Elric: Hah. Wow, I'll remind you that you said that the next time you swear revenge over my footlocker.
T'auir: We're missing the point. I was unaware of Mericor's sentiment mostly because I am unfamiliar with your former employer. About Tarsonan Medical Supply, however, we must act now against them. That will be our course.
Tam: Meaning what? Blow up their building, kill their secretary whom we've met, steal something, destroy the ships we just escorted? What did you have in mind.
T'aiur: Do not reproach me, Tam. The Khalai demands that warriors champion the cause of justice.
Moltar: I think we could do both things...here, we'll go back to Tarsonis, I'll collect our pay, and at the same time, we'll secretly alert the authorities to TMS's activities. The last thing that we want is an unnecessary fight, and the last thing that they want is exposure, which we are now in a good position to create. If we do it right, they won't even know that it was us.
Elric: Hey, BSL wouldn't know that their spy is dead yet, would they?
Tam: What do you mean?
Moltar: Yeah, I was going to leave him out of the plan...because he's dead and all.
Jargenduv: Actually, with a powerful enough battery and the right tools, I could...
Tam: Can it!
Elric: Thank you. What I mean is we should somehow convince the BSL bureau that we can be found and seized at TMS headquarters. They'll send a squad, and the chaos that ensues will only last until the police arrive.
Moltar: This is beginning to sound like more of an opportunity than before. What do you say?
Tam: Me? I like it. Let's go.

Tam was pleased that the team had such good ideas, as he hadn't been able to think of any. Maybe if they had seen the corpse, too, then they wouldn't be as quick-witted, he thought. Still, more questions remained that they would, perhaps, resolve later, after this little prank they had in the works for TMS.
The team arrived over Moria in a few hours, where Tam guided the ship to Tarsonis and took off again. He had to convince himself every time he entered the coordinates that BSL was not omniscient. Their orbital platform was huge, and stood as a monolith in the sky, which Tam now saw as a terrible god, watching over the planet with hungry eyes. He set the ship down in a public deck similar to the one they had used the last time when BSL had faked a parking ticket for their amusement.
In the meantime, Jargenduv went over the plan with Moltar, Elric, and T'aiur. Jargenduv would attempt to access TMS systems remotely and secretly, taking what information he could, and perhaps deactivating alarms and security cameras. Their guess was that the security they had would be pretty lousy, after all, TMS had hired them for escort duty. Moltar wanted to enter as normal, with T'auir cloaked and Elric in casual attire with a sidearm. Moltar would keep comms open and discuss on the fly what Jargenduv would do with the TMS mainframes. The ship set down in the public deck.
The team set off to the TMS building. T'aiur cloaked as soon as he had left the ship, which he knew would leave him about five minutes of invisibility remaining once they got to the building. Elric donned a boatcloak and grabbed a Lucerne .50 from the ship's stores. Moltar led the way. In twenty-five minutes at a quick walk, Moltar, Elric, and T'aiur arrived at the TMS building, and Jargenduv reported that he was ready at a terminal in a cyber-cafe down the street.
Moltar entered, and greeted the contact he had met before, whose name seemed to be Dobmonothon today. Elric spent a split-second wondering how this apparent human had been given a Chozo name. T'auir snuck in and made sure he hadn't be seen using his guile. Jargenduv reported that the security cameras would have to remain on; he refused to attempt to modify their functioning again. Moltar hoped that they would not have to start a fight: being caught on camera thus would be disadvantageous for them later. Elric was ready for a fight at the drop of a feather, but held her nerves.

-Welcome back. Davis told me that you performed admirably. Perhaps the fighting would have been superfluous if you had been on time...but still, I am pleased with your behavior in a pinch. We would love to keep you in the pocket for later, what do you say?
-Payment for this mission first. We can discuss other jobs after that.
-How forgetful of me, of course of course.

Dobmonothon handed Moltar a black leather case the size of a clarinet case. Moltar opened it well within Dobmonothon's ken to verify that it was Riboplastic gel, as the chemist who had sent him off to fetch had described it anyway. Dob then handed Moltar a checkboard for deposit in any account in the amount that they had agreed upon earlier. Moltar noted that the gel had cost the team almost triple the fee they had earned, and stuffed it away.

-Now, can I sign you on for other jobs?
-Let me consult my peers.

Moltar pretended to discuss things with Elric while they both talked to Jargenduv over the comm. T'aiur closed in on Dobmonothon, ready to slay him with a psiblade if needed. Jargenduv reported that TMS seemed to be small-time and highly specialized in the world of illicit drugs, and that their boss seemed to not have a name or employee number. Also, he could cycle the alarms every ten minutes for a day so that whatever security forces they had hidden would have to reveal themselves, or else they would disable the seemingly malfunctioning alarms. Also they had a few interesting warez. Elric averred that they could give Dobmonothon the contact information for Mericor the spy, and then if he tried to call on the team, BSL would think that it was Mericor tipping them off, and they would fly in with guns blazing. Moltar agreed, and instructed Jargenduv to set up the macro to activate in five minutes.
Moltar returned to Dob, and gave him their false contact information and bid him good day. T'aiur was slightly crestfallen that his blades would have had to remain off for their engagement. Once out of the building, they all beat feet back to the parking deck.
Upon their return, Tam told them that Tarsonis control (the legitimate one this time) had left a message. Their ship's guest pass had been cancelled because of their unusual flight activities the last time they came to the planet. The team would have to register the craft under Tarsonis Tower Control at the nearest control tower, or become subject to penalties.
After minutes of debate, the team decided that it would be no harm to have their ship on record on Tarsonis, because they would only have to register a license for the ship itself, as well as the various engineering descriptions and plans of the ship, mass, displacement, other fun facts. Tam went alone to register the ship, and came back with a license for Optimus-4-golf-mike.

Jargenduv mused at an extra ticker he had summoned on his hud. It was the last operation he had performed successfully before plugging out of TMS mainframe, and would alert him, whenever it happened, to anything untoward taking place around that building. His nose for news in a subtle ticker, scrolling by. Things are fine for now. Jargenduv mused.
Moltar apologized for taking the team on this trip, and conceded that they had more important things to do than hunt for the other four ingredients right now. Besides, he had no leads on the next one, secret sauce, and the ship needed a permanent (or at least less transient) berth.
Once spaced, the team argued about what planet they should choose for their home. After a few minutes, Moria won out, as it was the only place up until now where the team had spent much time together, and the only place that they had any legitimate contacts.
A proximity sensor sounded, and Tam noticed an escape pod heading their way. It contained a single person, who requested passage on their ship. After a short discussion, they decided to lift him on, with guns aimed, of course.
Once lifted, the team couldn't see the man. He spoke, requesting they lower their weapons. He concentrated, and revealed his form in translucent tone to the team. He was a Dark Protoss warrior.
The Dark Protoss introduced himself as Chac-Laharl, a former warrior of the Matriarch, Razsagal. He explained that after Zeratul murdered Razsagal to save her from Kerrigan's throes, many of his brothers defected, and others simply were dispersed by ensuing battle and were lost to space, a condition all too familiar to the Dark Templar. Laharl himself had been one of the lost, and decided to find work as a hired blade wherever he could. He had been a regular guard of Davis's freighter, and was displeased with the workload and organizational goal system. None of his complaints had been enough to make him choose to leave, however, until Davis had him launch a painter-flare. It may have been a pet peave, and even a little childish, but Laharl resented having to make anything visible that had been cloaked. He left on an escape pod to track the coordinated of the team's dropship, and really wished that they would put their guns down.
Laharl quickly learned that he had joined in the middle of an important pow-wow, and chose to abstain. Tam broke into a long-winded discourse on why he should continue to give orders. T'aiur objected, stating his personal disquiet with Tam's inability to make important decisions under fire. Yuki reserved her importance in the discussion, but didn't take sides and mostly stayed quiet. Jargenduv favored his own ability to lead, and demonstrated his knack for authority by instructing his laser-wielding robotic minion to fetch a drink.
On the way back, the robot followed Jargenduv's orders, including some that he hadn't announced to the rest of them.

Elric: Ow! That stung!
Jargenduv: Elric, stop making a ruckus whlile we're discussing important business.
Elric: You're tinker toy just tazed my ass. You told him to do that!
Jargenduv: No, I told him to get me a cola, he must have thought your ass was an insect. I've programmed him to be a bug-zapper too.
Elric: My ass is not an insect...
Jargenduv: But it is pretty small, I mean his optic sensor's are pretty good and...
Tam: Elric, no!

For the next five minutes, Elric and Jargenduv were out of the conversation. The robot minion stated a vote in Jargenduv's name for Tam to lead, which the group accepted. The others either agreed or abstained, and Tam was granted the tiara after all.
With a new home in sight and a leader chosen, the group felt they had really begun to come into their own as a freelance fighting force.
Finding a good place on Moria to rent was less difficult than Tam imagined. After a little shopping around, he found a bay that was ideally placed for quick getaways, hiding things, fabricating equipment, and fending off intruders. Also the lease was reasonable given the party's demonstrated imcome potential. Once settled, Jargenduv, Elric, Moltar, Guay and Maddocks went shopping for various tools and supplies. For the most part the others followed Jargenduv, who refused to remove his armor in public, as it made him look as if he were part of a construction crew. T'auir took Laharl to meet Berritor, and after a pleasent conversation, requisitioned use of the octogon for a little sparring match.
Once Tam had the ship and bay registered with Morian authorities, he collected the others from their various adventures and directed the settling in. Tam assigned what bunkspace he could among them (there wasn't enough for everyone). Guay and Maddocks had to share a bunk, which they didn't seem to mind. Elric elected to sleep in the engine room, which didn't appeal to Tam's medical sensibilities, but she really did look comfy there. Moltar took the one half-sized bunk, which the landlord said had been used by eleven-years-old son of the former occupant. The rest fit in bunks of their own.
Days passed, and Jargenduv began operations and designs on modifying their ship to be more combat-worthy. The final prospect made their little ship resemble a Battlecruiser, and Tam questioned exactly where they were supposed to come across a Yamato reactor. Moltar argued for, and convinced Tam of the utility of having some ship's weapons available in a pinch. Jargenduv also pointed out that the first of their weapon's systems would be modular and concealed until use. Jargenduv estimated that his modifications would take more than a week to complete, and that they would require among other things, a new engine to supplement the new systems.

-A new engine?
-Well, yes. I suppose a big battery would also do the trick, or a reactor...we could use a nuclear reactor.
-Why noy just ask for a tank of phazon?
-Woah woah, let's not throw around the P-H word any more than we have to.
-All I'm saying is that engines are harder to come by than any of these other parts you've listed on the bill of materials, even the weapons. Supposing that they stay concealed, I might even be able to keep contract on the ship with Morian authorities, but an entire engine?
-Well, look, we stole the ship, right? So how hard could it be to find another and scrap it?
-We'll work on it, I guess. In the meantime, try to make do without, huh?
-You want a ship that fights, fine. I'm just telling you what it will take.

Jargenduv organized the other tech-savvy teammembers and began work on the ship. After a few days, he discovered the team would need a manipulator, and sent Guay to get one. (A manipulator is a device blended from the Terran computer numerically controlled milling machine and the Protoss khaydarin conductor conduit. Modernly, manipulators are a kind of status symbol of a machine shop, and all manner and variety of them are available for purchase.) Once in his possession, Jargenduv began to process some of the mineral ore he had shopped for the previous week. On many occasions one of the others would notice him become frustrated with a task, and when that happened, nothing would get done for hours while he writhed and roiled, swearing vengeance against this bolt or that servo. Maddocks discovered that if he replaced Jargenduv at the task quickly enough, he wouldn't get frustrated and the work could continue smoothly. More often though, he or Guay would goad Elric into performing this function for them.

After a few days of machine shop operations, the team recieved a caller. The man entered, alone, dressed in an impressive looking pressed uniform bearing the marks of a private army that none of them had heard of. He identified himself as Captain Dubrensk of Mengsk's Terran Empire.

Dubrensk: I have heard of some of your exploits, and I must say I'm impressed. I could use a fighting force like yours for a mission.
Tam: Before you describe the mission, you should tell us about whom we'll be working for.
Dubrensk: But of course. Kerrigan, the Queen of Blades has manifested a new cerebrate to keep the zerg broods in check while she makes a journey across the stars, I don't know why. Mengsk sees this as a golden opportunity to strike back at the zerg on Omega platform, and maybe reclaim the balance of power for us Terrans.
Moltar: You speak for the Emperor in this matter?
Dubrensk: I should be more specific. Mengsk would see it the way I have described it if I give him a demonstration. Have any of you heard of a Synthasia organ?
T'aiur: I have.
Dubrensk: Then you know that each zerg warrior has one, and that wihtout it they die in a matter of hours. My scientists have designed a psi-resonator, a device that could rupture the synthasia organs of every zerg on a planet, but we're missing a component.
Tam: And you want us to go get it, huh?
Dubrensk: I'm afraid it's not that simple. Mengsk himself owns the facility, and though I have tried to requisition the component through official channels, Mengsk thinks I shouldn't be allowed access to so much pwer.
Elric: You...don't actually work for him at all, do you?
Dubrensk: I admit it wouldn't hurt my feelings at all if he were deposed, but compared to the zerg, Mengsk is one of my allies. To maintain anonymity in my operations, I have devised a system for those who work for me.
Laharl: What kind of system?
Dubrensk: Shifters. Terrans and others who give themselves willingly to work for the zerg without being infested. All my operatives are false-shifters. If found out, the zerg are blamed and sought after anyway, and in the meantime, I use them to undermine zerg operations, sometimes from the inside. No one else will be able to get close enough to use a psi-resonator.
T'aiur: Wait, you want us to be shifters? Preposterous, unheard-of.
Dubrensk: Technically speaking, you wouldn't be shifters. Throughout all of this, you would be working for me, and I'm still Terran.
Tam: There is one other thing. We would require special payment for an operation like this.
Dubrensk: What do you mean?
Tam: An engine. We need a new engine. My engineer here can provide you with specifications if you need them.
Dubrensk: I see. I suppose I could take some of the expense out in parts.
Tam: When can you get us the engine?
Dubrensk: No sooner than your completion of the first step of the job, the recovery of psi-resonator parts. There's one other thing I'll need, too, if you want to get an engine from me.
Tam: What's that.
Dubrensk: A further demonstration of your skills.

Dubrensk rose from his seat as he spoke, and with a puff of smoke, vanished into a corner of the room. A quick sweep of the room revealed a throbbing mass of putrid pulsating flesh protruding from the floor several feet away. None of the team knew what kind of zerg structure it would become, but none wanted to wait to find out either. Laharl left the zerg to the rest of them, spying Dubrensk himself hidden behind some crates. Tam reached for a sidearm and started shooting. T'aiur drew his psiblades and charged. Jargenduv comfortably lobbed shots from his laser, still in armor. Moltar also took out a weapon and fired. Elric fired a few shots from her sidearm, and decided she should run and get in her suit. Before the team could destroy the structure, it completed transformation into a Nydus canal, and three Hydralisks appeared. T'aiur engaged the Hydralisks face to face. The others suppored him from a distance.
Meanwhile, Laharl crept up on Dubrensk, and dispatched him with a swift sweep of the warp blade. Satisfied that he was finished, Laharl joined the others. As T'aiur finished the last hydralisk, and the Nydus canal itself crumbled to the floor, he received a shock as eight zerglings sprang from the ground and attacked. The initial bushwhacking left T'aiur incapacitated. Elric continued to don her armor hastily. Tam backed off slowly, and tried to kill the pair of zerglings charging him. Jargenduv managed to slay three of the zerglings with the lingering burn of his burst laser. Moltar's rifle jammed, and he quickly tried to fix it. Laharl swept in and saved Tam from taking any more hits from the pair of zerglings attacking him. Tam healed T'aiur with the medibeam, who wasted no time in whipping out his flamethrowers. Elric burst on the scene as well, and in hastily choosing targets accidentally hit T'aiur with her plasma beam. With the last of the zerglings killed, the team regrouped in the center of the room. A voice sounded from all directions, as over a loud speaker. It was Dubrensk.

-Very good, very good. You even managed to find out my illusory self. You didn't really think I would come to table an offer like that and have no backup troops or escape plan? I anticipate word of your recovery of the object. Good day.

And with a quirky laugh, the voice was gone. Moltar helped Laharl inspect the spot where he had slain Dubrensk, and neither found any corpse or any evidence of one. The team discussed what they should do, and ultimately came about to see Dubrensk as an acceptable employer. Though Laharl and T'aiur in particular resented the idea of even pretending to shift, they too acquiesced.
Their next days would be full of cleaning and organizing: preparing for their first real mission as freelancers. Each could feel the tingle of anticipation. This time, they would not be fighting monstrous Ing or zerg warrior creations, but possibly other sentients. Even innocent sentients. The sun set over their corner of Moria, and in haphazard and homey quarters, the team slept.

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