Imperio

When the firing started, questions of wrong and right evaporated from Connor Hienlich's mind.

The city of Neakgo was a warzone. It had been one for the last twenty-eight hours, and could remain one for up to ten times that number. Of those twenty-eight, he'd been here for fifteen of them. Long enough to feel his body crave the need for sleep, as his adrenalin ran out alongside his squad's stim supply. Long enough for him to question how it had come to this in the brief periods of respite that had been granted to him. Long enough to have seen the tracer fire and flares illuminating the city as Umojan and Kel-Morian forces did battle. Long enough to see Selmonius's sun rise, a red giant illuminating the horizon, casting a red glow on blood long since spilt. Long enough to…well, not to do much else. And certainly, in this place, in this time, he didn't have time to do anything else but follow the orders of Sergeant Chobo and open fire with his gauss cannon.

It was quite loud, what with 8mm spikes travelling through the air at hypersonic speeds. Before that, there'd been a squad of Kel-Morian troopers accompanied by a pair of IFVs – the troopers had the usual slipshod appearance one would expect from Morians, the IFVs had the big KM of the Combine painted on their hulls, along with scratches that looked like kill counts. In a head on fight, Romeo Squad would have been shredded. But, as he reflected grimly, this wasn't head on. This was them firing from two stories up in the shell of a building. This was them getting the element of surprise. This was them targeting the infantry with gauss weaponry while a rocket streaked into one of the IFVs, blowing it apart. This was them continuing to do so while the Kel-Morian infantry scattered, while the IFV driver's stumbled out, screaming as their flesh was incinerated.

He was glad he had his helmet down. It didn't block out the screams, but it could block out the smell.

He continued firing, because Sergeant Chobo told him to. His gauss cannon hit one of the Kel-Morian troopers, the velocity of the round tearing through the poor bastard's leg, leaving it hanging onto his waist by a few tendons. He kept firing as another trooper went to help him, the poor sod dancing before falling onto the concrete. A pool of red began spreading out over the hard ground. Ground that would never absorb all that blood, but let it remain there until water came to cleanse it.

"Fekk."

That was Private Hesh. A simple exclamation, but well worth it, as the IFV began firing. The Umojans had the benefit of height and cover, but the IFV had the benefit of firepower. If it could force them to keep their heads down, then the Kel-Morians in the street below could storm the building and use their numbers to their advantage.

"Cheryl, another rocket." Chobo gestured to Cheryl, who brought up the rocket launcher. It could be considered overkill, considering that their gauss rounds could probably penetrate the IFV's hull eventually, but they didn't have that luxury.

"Come on, come on," Chobo murmured. Connor heard Cheryl say something, but couldn't make out the exact words. He had to keep firing. Because not only were the Kel-Morians in the street below returning fire on their position, but some of them were-

"They're making a dash for it!" Hesh yelled.

Connor opened fire. One of the troopers in the street fell. The others made it under the building. He closed his eyes.

"They're gonna trigger the-"

There was a 'phoom' sound and a cloud of dust began spreading up the stairs.

"Hesh, Bowden, downstairs," Chobo yelled. "Cheryl, rocket!"

Connor re-mounded his gauss cannon and began firing again at the Kel-Morians remaining on the street, hoping that the IFV wouldn't focus on him. There was a chorus of single shots downstairs as Hesh and Bowden did the Devil's work. He glanced at Cheryl, who'd reloaded the rocket and was setting it up. He saw the IFV turn its turret.

"Cheryl, watch out!"

The rocket fired, but only after Cheryl was hit. She fell back with a curse. One that Chobo shared as the rocket went streaming into the sky above. Better that then hit the floor's roof, Connor reflected, otherwise this entire building could come falling down.

"Medic!" Chobo yelled.

But Cheryl was injured. They were down a rocket. He couldn't tell how many Kel-Morians were left, even after he activated his HUD's infra-red vision to identify them. The dust was everywhere, and the Kel-Morians were using their mobility to their advantage. And all the while, the IFV kept firing.

"Fekk!"

Randy fell over, blood pouring out of his leg. The round had gone through the concrete and through his armour.

"Guys, they're coming at us," Hesh yelled.

Gunfire came from the bottom story. Connor could imagine the two marines opening fire at the troopers. Imagine it for only a second though.

"Incoming!"

Who'd yelled that? He couldn't tell. The gunfire was everywhere, the dust was everywhere, and there was the sound of something far worse than an IFV. Something that the marines couldn't deal with. Not while the troopers and light armour remained in the street below.

"Shit."

That was his own words. He could see them coming down the street. More infantry. Followed by-

"Goliaths!"

A pair of them. Both of them heavily armed, heavily armoured, and likely having pilots wanting a bit of payback for all the misery the Umojans had caused. Connor opened fire with his gauss cannon, but it did not good. He saw both Goliaths train their autocannons and missile launchers towards the Umojans.

"Incoming!" Chobo yelled. He got to his feet from Cheryl, and began making gestures with his hands. "Everyone get-"

He never finished that sentence. The missiles hit. Connor curled up as best as his CMC armour would allow, hoping to minimize his body's spread as the building collapsed.

Shit.

Chobo. Cheryl. Bowden. Undine. He could hear them. Whether it be by the rubble, the missiles' detonation, the autocannons, or anything else, he could hear them dying. Even as his ears began ringing.

Gonna end like this.

He'd faced worse. He'd faced fellow terrans more dangerous than the Kel-Morians. Faced zerg, with numbers and savagery greater than any human could comprehend. But as he climbed out of the rubble, his suit's HUD flashing warning signs…right now, calling his past experiences "worse" was being generous.

"Sound…sound off," he rasped.

There was no answer. Only groans, curses, and a wail or two.

"Squad, sound off!"

Even the Kel-Morians had stopped firing. Through his HUD, he could see them on the street. The IFV, the Goliaths, the troopers…they were standing there. In shock or joy, he couldn't tell.

"Sergeant?"

"Sergeant's dead."

Some of the marines were getting up. His HUD labelled them as Anzet, Zuckberg, and Mek. Four marines left out of a squad of ten. Not good odds.

No. Three left. Mek fell down as the Goliaths began firing again, blood pouring out of a dozen holes. Anzet, Zuckberg, and Connor got to the ground of their own free will, using the rubble for cover.

"Romeo Squad, be advised, heavy armour on your six."

He barely paid attention. Not by choice, but by need. He could only stay where he was. The gauss cannon was wrecked, and he couldn't see Cheryl's rocket launcher anywhere. All he could do was use a gauss rifle and keep firing. Even as the Goliaths and IFV kept pouring on far heavier firepower.

"Romeo Squad, report."

"Cor…Corporal Connor, reporting." He gestured towards Anzet and Zuckberg, telling them to keep down.

"Status?"

"Fragged."

"Roger that. Stay put. ETA, thirty seconds."

Thirty seconds? You're only telling us that now?

The thought soon evaporated as he realized just how long thirty seconds actually was. Within ten seconds, Anzet fell down. Five seconds after that, Zuckberg, having gone to help her, detonated in a spray of metal and meat as one of the Goliath's missiles hit him. At fifteen seconds, Connor, still alive and not understanding why, disabled his gauss rifle's capacitator and went fully automatic, crouching down behind the rubble while spraying wildly at the Kel-Morians, some of whom had started to move in. At ten seconds, he ran out of ammo. One second after that, he saw a grenade in the rubble, and managed to toss it back. It detonated in mid-air, the force of the blast knocking him to the ground. At five seconds, he thought, this is it.

He didn't think anything for the next five seconds. It was in the five seconds after that however, as he heard the sound of gunfire, rumbling, and shouts and screams, that things became more interesting, if no less hellish.

Tanks.

He got up, though still crouched down, what with being bereft of a weapon.

Imperio tanks.

Imperio-type siege tanks, to be exact. Three of them, accompanied by a full platoon of Umojan marines. Marines that were firing with their rifles. Tanks that were firing with their plasma cannons.

Shit.

He knew that if not for his helmet's audio systems, the sound of the tanks' cannons might have deafened him. When people thought of siege tanks, they usually thought of their worth as an artillery piece. But here, in this place, at this time, he could see their power as an MBT. The IFV was destroyed instantly, its flaming shell sailing through the air. The Goliaths opened fire, but in seconds, one of them was hit, reduced to a flaming wreckage. The Kel-Morians began to fall back, as did the Goliath, but another shell hit it, sending it crashing into a building. Not fully destroyed, but disabled. Was the pilot alive? He couldn't tell.

But he was. Standing there, numb to the world…he was still alive. Somehow.

"Corporal Connor?"

A pair of marines were approaching him. One a captain, the other a medic.

"Corporal Connor?"

He took his helmet off. He could have lowered the visor, but he wanted out. The helmet. The suit. All of it.

"Corporal Connor, Romeo…" He stopped, something caught in his throat. "Romeo…Romeo…"

He retched onto the ground. The medic stood there while the captain patted him on the back.

"Easy big guy, let it out," she said.

The two of them led him through the rubble. The medic got out a small torch and asked him to follow the light. He did so, even as his mind was elsewhere. He wasn't fighting. And the questions of right and wrong came flooding back in.

I know why I'm here.

He saw the captain come aside, her helmet also off. He saw her exchange some words with the medic.

I know why we're here.

Saw her come over.

"I'd say you might be getting a sergeant's stripes, but…" She sighed. "Think that might be a bit premature."

Heard her speak.

"Sorry about your squad," she continued. "But you did good, holding this junction."

Barely listened to her.

"Kel-Morians only got ten percent of Neakgo now," she said. "Our armour's pounding them. We-"

"I know why we're here," he whispered.

"Say again Corporal?"

He looked up at her, through bloodshot eyes. Eyes that had once been young. Belonging to a man who had signed up to fight for the Umojan Protectorate in the belief that it had been the only terran power in the Koprulu sector worth fighting for.

"I know why we're here," he whispered. "We're here, because Umoja wants this city."

Times had changed.

"The hell you on about?"

"Used to be a KM world. Not anymore. Military's bigger now. Got nice shiny Imperio tanks. Better than the Dominion." He spat, blood and saliva landing on the uncaring surface. "Not better are we? We're-"

He stopped talking as he felt something prick his neck. He turned around to the medic. Turned round to the captain. A captain who was now looking very fuzzy.

"Take it easy Corporal," she said. "We'll get you back to home."

"Not my home," he slurred, even as he felt his body give way to sleep. As the medic helped him lie down. "Not home…not anymore…"

He heard the rumble of the Imperio tank. Could hear the footsteps of dozens of Umojan boots trampling over what had once been Kel-Morian soil.

Imperio…imperial…

After that, he heard nothing.

A/N

So, with the skins of the third war chest...well, yeah. Again, this might be looking way too much into things, and could be simple worldbuilding, but there's hints at a growing rift in protoss society (again), and more interestingly (to me), the idea that the Umojan Protectorate is taking a more proactive, more millitant approach to sector affairs, and potentially a darker turn (which would be a bit of a role reversal with the Dominion). Again, might be reading way too much into this, but drabbled this up regardless.