One such domino first falls here, in the remote world of Deadman's Rock.
Chapter 0
Where compromises must be made - "I really mean it when I said I didn't sign up for this shit" - An idea - In which our protagonists show themselves to not quite be heroes - Memories you aren't sure you like
Paul was sweating, a biological response that belied his otherwise wholly cool demeanour. More than a day had passed since the job had ended, and given how it went the Lieutenant was confident in switching the "AWOL" to "Deceased" of the team members. All that was left insofar as he knew were him and the ghost woman. At least he wouldn't feel bad about having pawned of that damned adjutant. The contractor was also dead, neither of the mercenaries saw the body but between the broken signal and the rumours the duo heard upon landing at Deadman's Port it was the only conclusion possible once applying Occam's Razor. They had no friends really. Having picked up many contracts here at most Paul had working acquaintances, and he assumed it was no different for his counterpart.
The officer took a momentary look at Maya. He could of course blow her brains out and take the money for himself, but given she was a Ghost and very well might be listening to his thoughts he reckoned it was an incredibly stupid idea. Nevertheless he loosened the holster of his pistol lest the Ghost had a similar train of thought with a different destination. All they had to their name was their equipment, that dropship, the truck they carried the adjutant on and enough credits to make their life expectancy about a day long given the people around them.
He looked to his colleague, and then in the rear view mirror. One of them had suggested that they get their own ship and leave this forsaken rock and while the thought was born of fear it slowly made more and more sense to the Lieutenant. "Let's go." he said, igniting the vehicle's engine and getting it moving. "I know a place." he explained, loading up a map of the locale on his display. A few turns and maybe twenty minutes through a tunnel had them come out in something of a junkyard. Yeah, the ships there were all old, battered, and full of other words with a negative inflection. But they worked, and they'd mean they wouldn't have no credits left to fuel them up. From small fry like valkyries and wraiths to a whole Battle Cruiser in the distance one could find anything here. Slowing down and eventually parking Paul rubbed his forehead, tightening his mask to help with the barely breathable air as he stepped out of the truck. Motioning for Maya to follow, he took out his and did a quick check before putting it back in the holster.
"A ship. That's what we need." the Lieutenant stated. There wasn't a need to say much more because he assumed that Maya agreed with him. After all, they could both see this was the only way out. "Keep an eye out for something you like and keep your eyes away from the people." It was a vile place with the colour palette alone sickening the soldier. But hey, on the bright side they wouldn't be here very long with just a little bit of luck. "I'm thinking a science vessel. Yeah we won't really be armed, but its not like just the two of us are going into any proper dogfights." the man reasoned. He stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. Lt. Nordlund didn't know if he could trust the Ghost, but its not like he had a choice. Thus, the proposition: "We've worked well before. We'll take something we can do a few jobs in before we've got the money to part ways, alright? Maybe then some transport ship would be better, that way we can do some gigs... well, transporting shit." Paul looked at the woman before him, waiting for some input. Knowing the shit ghosts had jammed into their brains he had not doubt she'd suggest an armed ship. Of course as an experienced Lieutenant Paul knew he could pilot a good chunk of the ships out here and give any OPFOR a run for their money in a fight. But he didn't want to take that risk, especially since the only thing he could really pilot with only a single crew member helping him would be a small guncutter — at that point it wouldn't be as if their weapons mattered much against anything more than a few small flyers.
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The Otter
Following the Brood War the Koprulu Sector found peace... of sorts. Though the Overmind was defeated and the forces of Earth routed animosity of all sorts remained. The malice of the human race could not so simply be erased and on the periphery of human space the Protoss and Zerg persist. Beneath the notice of the Milky Way's denizens many dominoes fall that will be felt by millions. 
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