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Protoss, we can do something about the Zerg.
She took a deep breath. Arcturus will come around, she said, but she sounded
to Mike as though she didn t hold out much hope. I know he will.
Raynor s lips were a thin line framed by his sandy blond beard. I hope you re
right, darlin . . . Good hunting.
He closed the link and looked up at Mike.
We re going after her, said Mike. A flat statement of fact.
You bet your ass we are. Suit up. Bring your gear. We may not be welcome back
here afterwards.
Mike slipped into one of the empty combat suits. Mengsk screwed up in one
other place, he said, his hands now flying automatically over the fittings
and seals. Once Kerrigan engages the Protoss, they re going to treat us as
hostiles. All of us. And there s a lot of Protoss hardware floating around in
the system right now, orbiting Tarsonis.
Raynor grunted agreement as he ran the check systems on his own suit. He had
patched up most of the damage inflicted by Duke earlier, but Mike noticed that
some of the telltales were still flashing a nasty yellow warning beneath his
visor.
So we have to dodge Protoss birds as well as Zerg, said Raynor. It s never
easy around here.
That s why we love the challenge, Mike said, more to himself than to anyone
else. He hefted the knapsack of stolen data and, on the spur of the moment,
shoved his old coat, the gift from the newsroom, on top. It had been singed by
laser fire and spattered with lood and less recognizable fluids, and baked
under foreign suns. It was tattered and ragged and bleached.
A lot like myself, Mike thought, shoving the coat down hard into the backpack,
making everything fit.
There was nothing else he wanted from the locker. He hoisted the sack, slung
it across the back of his armor, and followed Raynor out.
The ship had gone to red alert with the first appearance of the Protoss, and
now Raynor s men moved through crimson-lit hallways to the dropship bays. Mike
could feel the g-forces through the deck plates;
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the big command ship was weaving through something, but he could not tell if
it was debris or enemy fire.
Think we can get off the ship? Mike asked as they stepped into the landing
bay.
Yeah, said Raynor. The dropship pilots are good old boys. They aren t
afraid of Duke s wrath, or anything else for that matter. They can always say
I threatened them into bringing us down.
They may not be afraid of my wrath, but you should be, said General Duke
from the shadows to one side.
The lights flashed from red to yellow, and Mike saw Duke standing there among
the dropships with two squads of marines. They had their weapons aimed at
Raynor s men. Duke was cradling his own weapon, a borrowed gauss rifle, in his
off hand, his right hand hanging uselessly at his side.
Going somewhere, boy? said Duke, a hearty smile appearing above the sealing
rim of his helmet.
There was still dried blood at the corner of his mouth. Perhaps he thought it
was a badge of honor, Mike thought, or a slight to be avenged.
We re going after Kerrigan, said Raynor. She needs backup, regardless of
what Mengsk says.
That girl needs what Mengsk says she needs, Duke drawled. But it s nice of
you to go to the effort.
Now I have solid proof of mutiny, and I can provide the traitors to go with
it.
Mike scanned the marines. They were all neurally resocialized and, worse yet,
already pumped to the gills with stims. Their eyes were practically pupiless.
In this state they were effectively hard-wired into
Duke s nervous system. Once the general gave the command, they would
automatically jump, or fire, or drop for twenty pushups, without thinking
twice.
So the solution would be to keep the general from giving that order.
Mengsk would be very disappointed if you killed us, Mike said.
Duke laughed. I ll just throw one of his old quotes back at him: It s easier
to seek forgiveness than to gain permission. Now, you boys with Raynor, you
drop the weapons now and surrender. I might even let you live if you do.
Raynor didn t move. Behind him, Mike could hear some of their rangers slowly
laying their rifles on the deck.
Then the
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