StarCraft Chronicles Episode 17: A Friend Returns to Joeyray's Bar

This is a newly written fan narrative based on the events of the original work. The characters' emotions, dialogue, and scene atmospheres have been reconstructed, and it includes major spoilers.

The Dusty Jukebox and Heavy Memories of Joeyray's Bar

The desolate sands of Mar Sara whipped harshly against the outer walls of Joeyray's Bar, creating a bleak, whistling sound. Beneath a flickering, worn-out neon sign, a dusty jukebox continuously played a mournful country tune. James Raynor sat alone at a dark, empty corner table, staring blankly into a half-empty glass of strong whiskey. His broad shoulders were heavily weighed down by the crushing sense of defeat and profound loss he had carried for the past few years.

His rough fingers traced the worn marshal's badge resting on the table. The pride of his days as the Marshal of Mar Sara had long since faded, and only the cold metallic touch of the badge remained to remind him that he was once a man who fought to protect something. Arcturus Mengsk's betrayal had completely shattered his life, scattering the justice he once believed in like cosmic dust. Raynor let out a deep sigh and shoved the badge back into his pocket.

In a corner of the bar, a flickering holographic screen broadcasted Dominion news. On the screen, Mengsk, with his signature arrogant and confident expression, condemned Raynor's Raiders as a ruthless terrorist group, passionately declaring that there would be no mercy for those who threatened the peace of the Dominion. Hearing Mengsk's detestable voice, Raynor curled his lip into a cold sneer. The fact that he had not yet taken the head of that hypocritical dictator burned constantly in his chest.

Raynor downed the rest of his whiskey in a single gulp. Despite the harsh burn of the alcohol sliding down his throat, the horrific memories of Tarsonis swirling in his mind refused to fade. Sarah Kerrigan's desperate cries, abandoned in the heart of the Zerg swarm, still echoed vividly in his ears. The terrible guilt of failing to save her and fleeing alone dragged him into nightmares every night, making it impossible for him to sleep even for an hour without a drink.

It wasn't just Kerrigan. In the brutal vortex of the Brood War, the Protoss warrior Fenix—his most trusted friend and brother—had been savagely killed due to her betrayal. Fenix's death left a massive, indelible wound and burning rage in Raynor's heart. Though countless lives had been lost on the battlefield, the self-reproach of failing to protect his most noble companion tormented him endlessly. While he continued to resist the Dominion by leading his rebel forces, Raynor's soul was slowly withering away in this seemingly endless, desperate struggle. He did not know how much longer he could bear this heavy burden.

His gaze drifted to the worn revolver resting on one side of the table. That gun was loaded with a single bullet, reserved solely to pierce the heart of Arcturus Mengsk. Raynor unconsciously reached out to stroke the cold barrel, slowly spinning the cylinder. The clicking metallic sound echoed through the silence of the bar. It was the only proof that he was still breathing, and that his sole remaining purpose—revenge—was keeping him going.

At that exact moment, the tightly shut, weathered door of the bar swung open with a harsh, metallic screech. Heavy, massive footsteps shook the floorboards as someone stepped inside. A colossal silhouette, backlit by the intense glare of the outside sun, completely blocked the entrance. An imposing aura, accompanied by a heavy mechanical hum, instantly weighed down the air inside the bar. The sound of those footsteps alone made it abundantly clear that this was no ordinary patron.

Raynor did not look up immediately. Thinking it might be a Dominion assassin or a bounty hunter, his right hand instinctively gripped the handle of the revolver on the table. Holding his breath, he waited for the intruder's next move. Without a moment's hesitation, the massive shadow began taking heavy strides toward the dark corner table where Raynor sat. The dull clanking of mechanical joints grew closer and closer.

An Old Comrade Appears in Blue Armor

The intruder stepped into the dim light. It was a massive, bulky Marine CMC combat suit. The blue armor plating, heavily scratched and worn in places, proved that this man had survived countless battlefields. The man in the heavy suit walked with a characteristically arrogant, leisurely stride, stopping right in front of Raynor's table. Hot steam hissed from the suit's exhaust vents, carrying a pungent, acrid smell that stung the nostrils.

"Jimmy, boy. Still hanging out in these dreary joints, I see." It was a low, gravelly voice with that unmistakable, unforgettable accent. The moment he heard it, Raynor's heart skipped a beat. His grip on the revolver loosened. Staring in disbelief, Raynor slowly raised his head to look up at the giant in the blue combat suit.

With a sharp hiss of depressurization, the suit's helmet visor slid upward. A rugged face marked by deep scars, a thick cigar clamped in his teeth, and that signature sly yet boisterous grin. It was Tychus Findlay. The very man who had committed countless crimes alongside Raynor in the past, only to end up locked away in the cold cells of New Folsom Prison in Raynor's stead. A man Raynor thought was either dead or rotting in prison for life was now standing right here in a Mar Sara bar.

Raynor kicked his chair back and stood up abruptly. "Tychus? How in the..." His voice trembled violently with shock and bewilderment. New Folsom was the most notorious prison in the Dominion; no one who entered ever came out alive. Raynor's mind raced with a thousand questions, but all that managed to escape his lips was a breathless, stunned gasp.

Tychus exhaled a long stream of cigar smoke and chuckled. "Let's just say I got paroled for good behavior. And this fancy suit was a little going-away present." He patted his blue armor, replying with casual nonchalance. But Raynor knew better than anyone that the Dominion would never simply release a class-one criminal like Tychus. Under Mengsk's regime, 'parole' was a non-existent concept.

A deep suspicion clouded Raynor's eyes. Tychus's sudden appearance was far too unnatural, and the state-of-the-art combat suit he wore only fueled those doubts. Yet, the relief and joy of seeing his old friend after all these years were also genuine. Suppressing his complicated emotions, Raynor decided to lower his guard for now and welcome him. Demanding answers right away wouldn't work anyway; Tychus was never one to volunteer the truth so easily.

With a heavy thud, Tychus slumped into the chair opposite Raynor. The worn-out chair groaned under his massive weight. He grabbed the whiskey bottle from the table, poured a generous amount into an empty glass, and downed it. "Ah, nothing beats the taste of freedom." The two clinked their glasses briefly, raising a silent toast to their reckless past. It was a fleeting moment, but the tight bond of old comrades flowed between them.

Yet, the air in the bar remained thick with tension. Tychus's small, glinting eyes constantly scanned the surroundings, calculating something. Raynor had a gut feeling that Tychus would never have sought him out without a purpose. This cunning old wolf always moved with his own hidden agenda. Raynor took another swig of whiskey, quietly sensing the approach of an impending storm.

The Crisis at Backwater Station and the Raiders' Deployment

Outside the bar, the reality of Mar Sara was far more wretched than Raynor's gloomy depths. Massive Dominion holographic billboards erected throughout the streets constantly broadcasted Mengsk's propaganda, forcing a false sense of security upon the citizens. Armed Dominion Marines in red armor patrolled the dusty streets, ruthlessly crushing and oppressing any residents who showed even the slightest hint of discontent. Mar Sara was like a giant prison.

Raynor's Raiders were waging a grueling guerrilla war against this Dominion tyranny. They raided Dominion supply lines to seize resources and protected the unjustly oppressed local residents, barely keeping the embers of resistance alive. However, faced with the overwhelming military might of the Dominion, the Raiders' size and resources were woefully inadequate, making every single day a desperate struggle for survival.

In a calm tone, Raynor explained the miserable state of Mar Sara to Tychus. The Dominion was ruthlessly scraping away the remaining resources of this barren planet, leaving countless innocent residents to fall victim to starvation and violence in the process. Tychus chewed on his cigar as he listened, but his expression showed far more interest in how to exploit this chaotic situation than any sympathy for the suffering of others.

Just then, the bar door burst open, and a local militia member covered in dust ran in, panting heavily. Pure terror filled his eyes. "Commander! The Dominion's stirring up trouble at Backwater Station again! It looks like they're planning to level the whole base this time!" At the militia member's urgent shout, the air inside the bar instantly froze. Backwater Station was one of the last remaining sanctuaries for the people of Mar Sara.

Raynor's eyes turned sharp. He picked up his C-14 Gauss Rifle from the table and slammed a fresh magazine into place. He was a man who had once sworn to protect the people as the Marshal of Mar Sara. Even if his badge was stuffed deep in his pocket, he could not ignore the cries of the oppressed. Stroking his beard roughly, he walked toward the bar door with a look of grim determination.

Tychus spat his cigar onto the floor, crushed it under his boot, and grinned. "Time to stretch my legs, Jimmy. I was starting to get stiff in that freezer anyway." His massive combat suit hummed loudly as it powered up. Though it was a desperate situation with lives on the line, Tychus's eyes gleamed with a primal hunger for the coming slaughter and destruction. He was a man who thrived on violence.

The two stepped out into the street, bathed in the harsh glare of the Mar Sara sun. Having been contacted, Raynor's Raiders assembled and followed behind them. It was a ragtag group of raw volunteers and hired mercenaries, but under Raynor's command, they were braver than any other warriors. Raynor gave his squad a brief, sharp hand signal, and they began moving stealthily and swiftly toward Backwater Station, where the Dominion forces had dug in.

The skirmish on the outskirts of Backwater Station was brief but terribly intense. The Dominion Marines, caught off guard by the Raiders' sudden ambush, saw their formation crumble. Raynor moved nimbly between cover, taking down enemies with precise shots, while Tychus charged ruthlessly, absorbing the enemy's line of fire with his massive frame. Fighting in perfect sync as if they had just fought together yesterday, the two successfully pushed the Dominion forces back and reclaimed the station.

The Mobius Foundation's Proposal and the Alien Artifact

Once the situation at Backwater Station was somewhat settled and the retreating Dominion remnants had fled, Tychus finally brought up the real reason he had come to Mar Sara. Brushing the dust off his armored gauntlets, he spoke of a mysterious alien artifact that the Dominion had recently been excavating in secret nearby. He explained that it was an object of immense value, on a completely different level from ordinary minerals or gas.

"An outfit called the Mobius Foundation is paying top dollar for these things. All we gotta do is liberate it from the Dominion boys. Simple as that." Greed dripped from Tychus's voice. He persuaded Raynor that stealing this artifact was the perfect opportunity to stick it to the Dominion while filling the Raiders' empty coffers. The prospect of ruining one of Mengsk's top-secret projects was certainly an appealing offer.

Raynor was uneasy about the name 'Mobius Foundation.' Getting involved with a mysterious, massive organization always carried risks. However, he could not ignore the reality that the Raiders were currently running dangerously low on weapons and rations. Furthermore, if it was an artifact Mengsk was putting so much effort into excavating, stealing it would deal a significant blow to the Dominion. After a brief moment of contemplation, Raynor accepted Tychus's proposal and decided to head to the excavation site.

The Raiders mobilized quickly toward the Dominion's excavation site. As expected, the site was heavily guarded. Massive Siege Tanks had their cannons aimed, and fortified bunkers surrounded the perimeter, making a frontal assault tantamount to suicide. The Dominion had deployed a substantial force to protect this artifact. From a ridge, Raynor carefully studied the enemy's layout through his binoculars, racking his brain to find a breakthrough.

Using his signature tactical intuition, Raynor split his forces. While a small strike team led by himself scaled the side cliffs to bypass and neutralize the enemy's radar network, Tychus would draw the enemy's attention from the front with his massive armor and heavy minigun. The plan worked flawlessly. While the Dominion defenders were thrown into chaos by the ruthless firepower Tychus unleashed with a roar, Raynor's strike team breached the defensive line and infiltrated the central command center.

Inside the command center, within a massive containment field, a strangely glowing alien artifact fragment floated in midair. Unrecognizable ancient glyphs were etched onto its surface, and the blue light radiating from the entire artifact made the surrounding air shimmer. It looked somewhat similar to Protoss technology, yet it emitted a fundamentally different, alien, and profound energy. A complex mix of emotions flickered in Raynor's eyes as he stared at the artifact.

As he drew closer to the artifact, Raynor felt a chilling shiver run down his spine. An inexplicable, ominous vibration set his nerves on edge. Though he had encountered numerous alien lifeforms and relics during the Brood War, he had never felt anything that radiated such a primal and overwhelming aura. He instinctively sensed that this artifact was not just a simple payday, but a dangerous object that could shake the very fate of the universe, and he shuddered.

Paying no heed to Raynor's unease, Tychus roughly deactivated the containment field and stuffed the artifact fragment into his suit's cargo compartment. "See that? We're in the money now, Jimmy!" he shouted, intoxicated by victory, but Raynor's gaze was already fixed outside the command center. Amidst the blaring alarms, Dominion dropships carrying massive reinforcements were kicking up dust as they descended from the sky.

The Shadow of the Zerg Looms Again and a Desperate Evacuation

Before the Dominion dropships could even land, the barren ground of Mar Sara suddenly began to vibrate slightly. The tremors quickly escalated into a massive earthquake, causing the Raiders to lose their footing. Through the clouds shrouding the sky, not Dominion ships, but swarms of massive, hideous organisms began to pour down. Flapping leathery wings and emitting bizarre, screeching cries, they were Mutalisks.

"Zerg? Here? No way!" A shocked gasp escaped Raynor's lips. A cold chill ran through his veins, making his skin crawl. Since the end of the Brood War, the Zerg Swarm had remained secluded on Char, never once showing themselves for years. Why on earth had they suddenly appeared now, on this fringe world of Mar Sara? Horrific nightmares of the past flashed through Raynor's mind, threatening to paralyze his reason.

Terrible screams and distress calls began flooding the comm network from all over Mar Sara. "Help us! The monsters are overruning the colony!" "The perimeter's breached... Argh!" Caught completely off guard by the sudden Zerg invasion, Dominion outposts and civilian settlements were instantly turned into bloodbaths. Hearing the sounds of tearing flesh and crushing bones over the comms, Raynor clenched his teeth. There was no time to worry about the artifact anymore.

Having already retrieved the artifact and returned to Backwater Station to prepare for evacuation, Raynor immediately issued new defensive orders to all his troops upon facing the sudden Zerg onslaught. 'All hands, defensive positions! The Dominion boys might be busy running away and abandoning the colonists, but we are going to protect these people! We hold the line here until the Hyperion arrives!' His voice carried an uncompromising firmness. Just as he could not abandon the people when he was the Marshal of Mar Sara, this was the final line he had to hold as the commander of Raynor's Raiders.

Tychus patted the cargo compartment holding the artifact and grumbled in frustration. "Are you out of your mind, Jimmy? We barely got enough skin to save our own hides, and you want to drag along dead weight? We need to take this artifact and get the hell out of here now!" But Raynor stepped up close, looking ready to grab Tychus by the collar, and glared fiercely into his helmet. "I protect my people. You either help, or you run away on your own. Your choice." Faced with Raynor's murderous gaze, Tychus reluctantly adjusted his grip on his gun.

The Raiders established a defensive perimeter around the starport and began a desperate battle to buy time for the civilians to board the dropships. The endless waves of Zerglings rushing through the red dust were like a massive tidal wave of sharp teeth and claws. The relentless muzzle flashes of Gauss Rifles mingled with the bizarre shrieks of the Zerg, turning the battlefield into a literal living hell. The stench of blood filled the air.

Raynor pulled the trigger again and again until his rifle's barrel glowed red-hot. Right before his eyes, a militia member was brutally impaled and killed by a Hydralisk spine bursting from the ground. The red blood splattering everywhere and the desperate screams perfectly recreated the horrific memories of that day on Tarsonis. A mixture of guilt and rage tore wildly at Raynor's chest. Roaring like a beast, he poured a hail of bullets into the Zerg.

Though the dropships carrying the civilians began taking off one by one with heavy engine roars, the sheer volume of the Zerg showed no signs of thinning. The Raiders' ammunition was running dry, and their defensive lines were collapsing in multiple places. Raynor, Tychus, and the remaining squad members were completely isolated in the middle of the starport. The surrounding Zerg swarm slowly tightened their noose to deliver the final blow. The shadow of death was tightening around their throats.

The Descent of the Hyperion and Matt Horner's Arrival

Just as the desperate defensive line was about to collapse, the dark clouds blanketing the battlefield tore open violently, and a massive shadow swept over the land. A majestic, deafening engine roar shook the atmosphere, causing even the Zerg swarm to hesitate under the overwhelming vibration and look up at the sky. Descending through the clouds was a colossal steel fortress—the Hyperion, flagship of Raynor's Raiders. Its massive hull blocked out the sun, casting a shadow of hope and salvation over the battlefield.

Blinding energy condensed at the bow of the Hyperion, and a massive pillar of light erupted. The Yamato Cannon struck dead center into the swarm of Mutalisks hovering in the air, triggering a colossal explosion. With a flash of light, dozens of Zerg flyers evaporated without a trace, and the burning debris raining down onto the ground crushed the Zergling packs, scattering them in panic. This overwhelming display of firepower instantly turned the tide of the battle.

"Commander, looks like we made it just in time. Though things seem pretty rough down there." Matt Horner's voice over the comms was calm and rational, as always. Hearing that unwavering voice, the tight tension in Raynor's stiff shoulders melted away. Having a young, capable captain who always came to rescue him in moments of absolute peril was the only comfort Raynor could lean on in this hellish universe.

The Hyperion's lower hangar bay doors opened, and several dropships dove toward the ground. Hovering in midair, the dropships laid down heavy suppressive fire to keep the Zerg at bay while Raynor, Tychus, and the surviving Raiders quickly threw themselves inside. As soon as the last soldier boarded, the dropships blasted upward on pillars of fire, narrowly escaping the Zerg claws and returning safely to the Hyperion's hangar.

As Raynor entered the Hyperion's bridge, catching his breath, Matt Horner approached in his neat uniform and offered a crisp salute. Even during the past few years when Raynor had drowned his sorrows in alcohol, Matt had been a truly loyal officer, quietly maintaining the ship, rallying the scattered rebels, and keeping the Raiders alive. His moral compass and upright gaze held unwavering trust and respect for Raynor.

Raynor patted Matt on the shoulder with a faint smile. "Thanks, Matt. If it weren't for you, I'd have rotted in that Mar Sara dust bowl forever." Matt offered a weak smile, but his expression quickly hardened into a serious frown. On the bridge's large tactical map, not only Mar Sara but several adjacent star systems were flashing with red warning signals. It was not just a localized skirmish, but a massive invasion threatening the entire sector.

As the Hyperion fired its main engines and ascended into orbit, Raynor stared intently at the tactical map. Like a hungry beast awakened from a long hibernation, the Zerg were simultaneously ravaging the Dominion's fringe worlds. Even Mengsk's proud, invincible fleet was being pushed back helplessly by this sudden offensive. What on earth had set the Zerg in motion again? An ominous premonition began to coil in Raynor's chest.

Matt Horner opened his heavy lips, confirming Raynor's dark premonition. 'The Queen of Blades has returned. The Zerg Swarm is moving under her control once again.' The moment that name was uttered, a pain like a sharp dagger piercing his heart washed over Raynor. Sarah Kerrigan. The woman he had loved, whom he had ultimately failed to save due to Arcturus Mengsk's vile betrayal, and who had now become the worst monster in the universe, was finally on the move again.

The Grim Reality of the Hyperion and a New Contract

Raynor dragged his heavy steps toward the ship's armory. The moment he opened the armory door, the pungent smell of grease and the sound of sparks flying from welding stimulated his senses. Chief Engineer Rory Swann was tearing off the armor plating of a half-destroyed Goliath, his massive mechanical arm whirring. Spotting Raynor, he wiped the sweat from his brow with a grease-stained rag and began pouring out complaints in his signature gruff voice.

"Well, look who decided to show up! Keeping these buckets of bolts running is breaking my back. We're short on parts, the gas tanks are bone dry, and it's a total nightmare!" Swann's grumbling was no exaggeration. As rebels constantly fleeing from the Dominion, the Hyperion's supply situation was at its absolute worst. Combat suits were covered in patches, ammunition was always scarce, and they suffered from a chronic lack of resources that made even basic ship repairs nearly impossible.

Raynor patted Swann on the shoulder with a bitter smile. "Hang in there, Swann. I'll find a solution soon, somehow." Leaving the armory, he made his way to the ship's science lab. There, the eccentric scientist Egon Stetmann had his nose buried in a microscope, excitedly observing a Zerg tissue sample freshly harvested from Mar Sara. All sorts of complex equipment and holographic data were scattered messily around him.

Stetmann, muttering to himself without realizing Raynor had entered, finally looked up, pushed up his glasses, and made a fuss. "Commander! The genetic structure of these Zerg samples is absolutely marvelous! If we can study these properly, we could develop technologies to drastically upgrade our Raiders' weapons and armor! Of course... we'd need a massive amount of funding to conduct that research right away." Stetmann's voice trailed off at the end.

Entering the ship's cantina, Raynor looked around with a bitter expression. There, rough mercenaries who had joined the Raiders to make a buck were drinking and engrossed in holographic games. To stand against Mengsk's regular army and the Zerg Swarm, their combat prowess was absolutely necessary, but they only picked up their guns when a hefty sum of credits was deposited. The noble cause of revolution alone could not sway their barrels.

In a corner of the cantina, Tychus had gathered some mercenaries and was bragging about the alien artifact they had just stolen from Mar Sara. "This little rock right here is easily worth a whole Dominion battlecruiser! Those Mobius Foundation boys are waiting for us with bags of cash!" When Tychus locked eyes with Raynor, he gave him a knowing wink. It was a silent pressure, implying that if they kept finding the artifacts the Mobius Foundation wanted, they could solve all of the Raiders' financial troubles in one fell swoop.

Raynor leaned against the bar counter, lost in deep thought. He had to save innocent people from the Dominion's tyranny and stop Kerrigan's Zerg Swarm, which was poised to swallow the universe once again. To do that, he needed to repair this aging ship immediately, pay the mercenaries, and fund Stetmann's research. To achieve the noble goals of revolution and salvation, he paradoxically, desperately needed the most worldly thing of all: money.

Ultimately, there was no choice. Whatever the Mobius Foundation's true identity was, and why they were gathering these dangerous alien artifacts, did not matter right now. For survival, and to wage the massive war ahead, Raynor was willing to make a deal with the devil. He resolved to fully accept Tychus's proposal. Even if it was a path leading to ruin, it was the only step he could take right now.

A Leap Toward the Stars and a Renewed Resolve

Standing alone in his dark cabin, Raynor silently stared at a small holographic photo active on his desk. In the photo, Sarah Kerrigan from her days as a Ghost agent smiled brightly, her red hair blowing in the wind. It was her image from before she was trapped in the hideous shell of the Zerg, when she still possessed her human warmth. Raynor's fingertips reached out to caress her face floating in the air, only to coldly slice through empty space.

He closed his eyes tightly and switched off the holographic device. The cabin plunged into deep darkness, leaving only the terrible confusion and guilt swirling inside Raynor in the shadows. While his reason knew that the universe could only survive if he stopped the Queen of Blades, a foolish hope of saving the human Sarah Kerrigan still breathed in a corner of his heart. This contradictory emotion was driving him mad.

But now was not the time for sentimentality. Amidst Mengsk's oppression and the Zerg's slaughter, countless lives were waiting for their salvation. Raynor splashed water on his face, steeled his mind, and stepped out of his cabin. Instead of his previous helplessness, his steps now carried a firm resolve to face his inescapable destiny head-on. As he entered the bridge, the entire crew held their breath, waiting for the next command to fall from their leader's lips.

"Matt, where's the next artifact the Mobius Foundation wants?" Raynor's voice was firm and powerful enough to echo across the entire bridge. A flash of joy and relief crossed Matt Horner's eyes as he stood before the navigation console. This was the true leader, standing tall once more after ending his wandering. Matt immediately activated the holographic star map, projecting a chart of the sector into the center of the bridge.

On the star map, several planets where unrecovered artifacts were hidden flashed as red dots. "Most of these are heavily fortified Dominion strongholds, or danger zones where the Zerg Swarm has already begun its invasion. No matter where we go, it's not going to be an easy fight," Matt reported in a concerned voice, quickly analyzing the tactical data. Every single one of them was a perilous journey requiring them to risk their lives.

"Since when did we ever take the easy way, Matt?" Raynor replied with a grin. Unbridled combat spirit burned in his eyes. Leaning against a corner of the bridge, Tychus chewed on his cigar with satisfaction and gave a thumbs-up. It was a tacit agreement between beasts embarking on a new hunt. Raynor switched on the ship-wide intercom microphone, clearing his throat so that every Raider on board could hear him.

"Listen up, people. We're not just rebels anymore. We're going to stand against the Dominion's tyranny, save lives, stop the Zerg from swallowing the universe, and gather these damn artifacts to keep our fight going. Neither Mengsk nor the Queen of Blades is going to stand in our way." Raynor's speech was brief, but it was more than enough to ignite a burning fire in the hearts of the despairing Raiders. Cheers erupted from all corners of the ship.

"Hyperion, prepare for warp jump. The universe is waiting." As Raynor's final command fell, Matt Horner immediately operated the navigation controls. The main engines of the massive battlecruiser flared fiercely, letting out a roar that tore through space-time. Leaving the orbit of Zerg-infested Mar Sara, the Hyperion made a massive leap toward the endless, unknown depths of deep space. The curtain was finally rising on a long crusade.

Sources Verified

Official Blizzard StarCraft Chronicle

Official StarCraft II Campaign Introduction

Developer Lore Q&A: Connecting Characters and War

Official StarCraft II Downloads and Campaign/Nova Purchase List