Dogs of War

Hades Site was situated in Dante Crater. So named because it was the result of an Apocalypse-class nuclear missile going far off course from one of Korhal's cities. Back when the planet wasn't an irradiated wasteland, back when it more cities than he had fingers, and back when the worst humanity had to worry about was itself. Someone, at some point, had come across the crater and given it a name befitting the hellfire that had been unleashed on the world. And fittingly enough, when the Cerberus Program had come under the auspices of the Terran Dominion, it had claimed its own stake in Hell.

From what Valerian had read, the site itself had been named by his own father, and he'd given Tamsen Cauley the keys to the Gates of Hell. Because even if his father was a tyrant who'd done to Tarsonis what the Confederacy had done to Korhal, sentencing billions of men, women, and children to die for the crimes of their government, he'd at least been a man of culture. The type who could name Old Earth mythologies off the top of his head and apply them to his pet projects.

Culture, Valerian reflected as he walked through the hallways of the black site. Is it that we've fallen so far, or that we never actually climbed that high?

He couldn't say. A week ago, the protoss had arrived and helped defend Korhal from the Moebius Corps. He hadn't been able to contact their hierarch at the time, and Raynor hadn't imparted much. Only that this was a fight that would involve them all, that it would be fought across all corners of the sector, and that it was a fight the Dominion would have to wage on their own for the most part. Faced with the presence of the golden ships in orbit of his throne world, Valerian had wondered if the protoss had observed what had happened to Korhal fifteen years ago. If it had crossed their minds to finish the job the Confederacy had never finished. Because as powerful as nuclear bombardment was, their lightning ships were another thing entirely.

Still, they were gone. The Dominion had to fight. Two days ago, Intelligence Section had reported the existence of this base, and now, accompanied by a troop complement, he was here, in the control room of Hades Site. Looking at the interior of a base that had been abandoned for a year, operated by a program he'd known little about. He looked around the room – at the techs, at the troopers, at the Royal Guardsmen stationed at the room's entrance. If enough people wanted him dead in this place, he reflected, they had a good chance of finishing the job. He had a personal force field device attached to his belt, but it only had enough power for a few hours, and concentrated gunfire would bring it down.

"Emperor Valerian?"

Or a knife to the gut, as it only activated against fast moving projectiles. Looking at the woman walking over to him, he didn't' see a knife in her possession, nor any murderous intent in her eyes. But then, they were in a piece of Hell, and Hell wanted not for deception.

"Sir?" She handed him a data pad. "Preliminary analysis of the site."

Valerian frowned as he took the pad. "Do I know you?" he murmured.

"Maybe. Possibly." There was a silence, and Valerian got the sense that she was waiting for him to pick up on her. "Captain Hall, sir. Used to be on the Hyperion."

"Used to?" Valerian murmured.

"Matthew, I mean, Admiral Horner is breaking bread with Mira," the woman said, saying the name like it caused her pain. "I'm here as his bequest."

Valerian got the sense that Hall would have much rather been in the presence of Matthew, and not out of distaste for the one who called the shots now. Skimming through the data pad, he allowed himself a small smile. Raynor was out doing his thing. Horner was out doing his thing. A year of helping to reform the Dominion, and it was as if both of them couldn't wait to be rid of it. He glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the troopers he'd brought with him. Men and women equipped with sub-standard weapons and sub-standard armour, drafted into service because the Dominion didn't have the means to give them more powerful technology. He wondered what was beneath the visors that they wore. How many of them were yearning to be free from Korhal as well. Free from him. Because looking at the data pad, it was clear that the Cerberus Program hadn't waited.

"So," Valerian said, handing the pad back to Hall. "Days after I succeed my father, the Cerberus Program packs up."

"That's the gist of it sir. Guess they didn't have faith in you."

The words cut deeper than Valerian had thought they would, given that he'd had to endure a year of everyone doubting him, from the military, to the media, to the plebs on the streets of Augustgrad. "What about you?" he asked.

Hall looked at him. "Sir?"

"Do you have faith in me?"

"I…" She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck. "Sir, it's not really my place to say."

"Quite right. And it's not my place to ask." He walked over and took a seat, one that a tech had scraped the dust off earlier. "But I'll ask you this, Hall – how the hell am I only learning about this site now? How the fekk did this escape my notice?"

Hall shrugged, trying to hide her unease. "It's been a busy year sir. You had lots of stuff to do."

"So much stuff that I'm only finding out about the defection of the Cerberus Program now, Captain?" He got to his feet. "How does that happen?"

Hall said nothing. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, but no words came out.

Valerian snorted. "I'm asking a rebel about disunity within the Dominion military, while dealing with brushfire battles across all of the Koprulu sector. Because of course I am."

Hall was still doing the fish routine, but when the word "sir?" came out, it wasn't from her. Instead, Valerian looked at the man who'd approached him. His uniform marked him as being a member of the Marines, and his chevrons marked him as being a colonel.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked.

"Yes, you-"

"No," Valerian said, silencing Hall. "Of course not Colonel Moseley."

The colonel gave Hall a withering look. How Hall looked at him, Valerian didn't know. His eyes were fixed on the colonel himself.

"How's the sweep of the lower levels coming?" Valerian asked.

"Good sir. Though that's what I came to you for. There's something that…well, I think you should see this for yourself."

Valerian smirked. "Colonel asks me to come down to the lower levels, out of sight from everyone. Why, if I didn't know better, I'd think you wanted me dead."

Moseley turned very pale, very quickly. "Valerian, I would never…I mean…"

"Emperor, Colonel. Or sir. And of course, that isn't going to happen, because the Royal Guard will of course be accompanying me."

Moseley was regaining some of his colour. "Yes sir. Of course."

"And Captain Hall will be accompanying me as well."

"She is?" Moseley asked.

"I am?" Hall asked.

He looked at her. "Horner wants you to keep an eye on me." She opened her mouth to object, but he kept talking. "Don't deny it. And don't worry, I don't have enough men left to send to the firing squad at every little charge of sedition." He gestured for the Royal Guardsmen to come over to him. "So, it's down to the lower levels for us, Captain. When we're out of the hole, you can tell Admiral Horner all about the squirming I did."

Hall looked ready to do some squirming herself. Good, Valerian reflected. He wasn't his father. But that wasn't to say he couldn't learn some lessons from him.

One being that it was always good to instil a bit of fear in those around you.

##

It was a tight squeeze in the elevator, what with five terrans being in it, two of which wore power armour. They'd had to take a cargo elevator, and even then, space was at a premium. No-one spoke a word, which gave Valerian the excuse he needed to take back the data pad and continue reading.

"This Subsourian fellow is an odd one," Valerian murmured. "Former Moebius Foundation, but transfers to the Cerberus Program. Colleagues notice intense interest in the subject of Alexei Stukov." He scrolled down the report. "Also that he went through quite a few interns during his research."

Hall shrugged as best she could in the tight confines. "What can I say, sir?"

"I don't know." He closed the file. "But assuming that Subsourian and the Program are out there somewhere, and so is Stukov, according to preliminary field reports…well, I'm not sure if that's a match made in Heaven or Hell."

"But he is a traitor sir," Hall said. "Keep that in perspective."

Moseley grunted. "Perspective. Of course."

"You want to say something, Colonel?" Hall asked.

Valerian saw Moseley glare at her. "Word of advice, Captain. Just because you're no longer on the Hyperion doesn't mean the dirt is off you."

Hall went to retort, but Valerian rose a hand, silencing her. He looked at Moseley. "The Hyperion is the flagship of the Dominion Fleet, Colonel. It deserves respect."

"I have every respect for a warship in our navy, sir. It's the people on it that I have reservations about."

Valerian's eyes narrowed. "Something you want to say, Colonel?"

The elevator came to a stop with a 'thunk.' Everyone swayed except for the Royal Guardsmen, who stood there like silent sentinels. When the doors opened and he regained his footing, Valerian met Moseley's eyes. Saw, for a moment, a fire behind them. One that rivalled the fire that had scorched the surface above.

"No sir. Nothing to say sir." He gestured to the elevator's exit. "After you sir."

"No, you first colonel. You're the one who has something to show me."

Moseley forced a smile. "Of course." He stepped out of the elevator. "If you'd follow me."

Valerian lingered for a moment, before following. They were in some kind of underground hanger, one large enough to hold a destroyer. Hall stepped out too, and whistled. "Large enough to hold the Hyperion in here."

"Not quite. Too big."

"Too big," she snorted. "I mean, did you hear what the colonel said about it?"

"Yes, I did." He looked at Hall. "And you'd do well to keep your mouth shut."

"But sir, I-"

"Hall, you're a captain in the Dominion Navy. Moseley is a colonel, and you will afford him the respect the rank deserves."

"But he-"

"Do it, Hall. And when you send your report back to Matthew, tell him I told you that. Because even if Commander Raynor seems intent on doing his own thing, Matthew might actually listen."

"…yes sir."

No more words were spoken as they walked along the catwalk, looping around to a second hanger. No sound, apart from three sets of footsteps making soft sounds, and the clunk-clunk-clunk of the power armour the guardsmen were wearing. There were a few troopers around, no doubt the soldiers Moseley had brought with him, but they were equally silent. Valerian wondered if they might actually prefer it here. Korhal was reeling from two invasions, but it was still the safest planet in the Dominion right now.

"Here," Moseley said. He came to a stop on the catwalk, gesturing to a section of the hanger. "Behold, the Dogs of War."

Valerian came to a stop as well. His eyes widened. His mouth opened, as he searched for something to say.

"Holy shit," Hall whispered.

As it turned out, the captain had found the words for him. Because looking down at the creatures below…well, how else would you react to the presence of thousands of zerg, all of which had emitters attached to their craniums? Valerian felt a chill run down his spine. The empty hanger they had seen when they first descended. Had it never been filled? Or had the zerg there been taken?

He looked at Moseley. "Dogs of War?" he murmured.

"That's what the data calls them."

"Dogs of War," Hall repeated. "What, like mercenaries?"

"Yes, though I assume that even zerg aren't people your type would want to rub shoulders with," Moseley murmured. He took out a data pad and began typing on it. "Though one does ask questions as to your presence at Augustgrad a year ago."

The chill returned. But whatever Moseley thought or knew about the Raiders' actions in light of Kerrigan's attack on Korhal a year ago, they weren't voiced. Instead, he finished typing on the pad and showed Valerian a file.

"Cerberus Program zerg," he said. "As approved by your father."

Valerian took the pad. "My father approved this?"

"Well, considering his use of psi emitters on Tarsonis, one shouldn't be surprised," Moseley said, giving Valerian a dark look. "But yes. These zerg are taken from the Maguro Brood, and were operated by the Cerberus Program. Rudimentary control via their implants, overriding their connection with the hive mind. Can't tell them much more than to just attack, but zerg being zerg, well…" He trailed off, and Valerian didn't blame him. Zerg attacked until they were all dead or the enemy was. Even under Kerrigan, she'd applied the same tactics of overwhelming the enemy through sheer numbers.

What the hell did you get yourself into father? Valerian wondered. He continued scrolling. Using zerg as a weapon. How the fekk did you think this would play out?

He lowered the pad, realizing that he already knew the answer. He knew it, because his father had known it. The Confederacy had been playing with fire, but the idea of using the zerg to clear out their enemies, avoiding the backlash they had from Korhal…there was a genius to it. And Arcturus Mengsk, for all his faults, had been a genius as well. Genius enough to take from the Confederacy's playbook.

He looked at Moseley. "How'd you get this anyway?"

"There's data terminals here. We did our research."

"Funny," Hall said. "There was nothing about these zerg upstairs."

"Then either Cerberus was very careful, or your techs are incompetent," Moseley said. He looked at Valerian. "So. What should we do sir?"

Valerian blinked, and Hall took advantage of the silence. "Do?" she asked. "Well, destroy them of course. We-"

"Colonel," Valerian murmured. "You said that these zerg could follow basic orders, correct?"

Hall stared at him, aghast. "Valerian, what are you-"

"Emperor," Moseley said, correcting Hall and addressing his superior at the same time. "The Dogs of War can do that, yes. We'd have to get our techs up to speed, but in theory, we could use them."

"How soon?"

"Two weeks, maybe more."

"Make it less." Valerian handed the pad back to him. "Get on it colonel. My father wanted to use these zerg against the Dominion's enemies? Well, let's use them."

Moseley saluted. "Yes sir. On it sir."

He walked off, sounding a bit too happy for his own good. But Valerian let him go. Moseley was loyal to the Dominion. Everything in his record suggested as such. As long as the Dominion remained under attack by this enemy force, this "Amon," then Valerian could count on him to stick his guns in the right direction. Which left only one issue to deal with. He turned to look at Hall.

"Spit it out Captain. Let's get the moral outrage part out of the way."

She looked affronted. And after a glance around, and asked, "you're seriously thinking of using the zerg?", sounded affronted as well. Even if she tried to hide it.

"There's zerg fighting against zerg right now. It appears we share the same enemy."

"That's not the same, and you know it," Hall protested. "Your father used the zerg as weapons. Twice."

"And the second time, it allowed him to overthrow his enemy." Hall opened her mouth to protest, but he continued. "You've seen the reports. The Moebius Foundation isn't even really human anymore. And if there's any outrage about me using the zerg as weapons, there'll at least be people left to voice that outrage."

"People like Raynor?" Hall asked. "Like Matthew?"

"They're free to do so. But bear in mind that they worked alongside the zerg only a year ago when it served their purposes."

Hall looked around nervously. Like his father before him, plenty had theorized as to the convenience of him taking the throne right after the zerg attack on Korhal. Like his father, outright confirmation would be very different from people just having those suspicions. But, there was no-one within earshot. Only the Royal Guardsmen, and Valerian could count on their silence. Especially what with them being resocs – a practice he detested, but waste not, want not, as the saying went.

"So then," Hall asked. "What are you going to do?"

Valerian walked to the edge of the catwalk, and looked down at the creatures before him. Creatures in silence, waiting for an order to be given. Someone to give them life. Purpose. Someone to use the zerg as the killing machines they had been created to be. Waiting for an order from their queen.

"Cry havoc," he whispered, "and let slip the dogs of war."

Or an emperor.