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08.07.904.M38
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POV Dominion Trooper
"Are they mobilizing us for war?" I asked, a knot forming in my stomach as I watched our captain. He was a terran about my age, the son of Royal Guard officers, with a presence that commanded authority even before he spoke.
"Of course," he replied without hesitation. "That's what troopers exist for. To go to the battlefields in the name of the Dominion. The Lord Regent has ordered a general mobilization of all available forces. An alien race has threatened our sovereignty, and we will carry out preemptive strikes." The sound of his CMC armor echoed between the ranks, amplified by the absolute silence of the soldiers.
I had left everything behind. My family had been relocated to another planet, the capital of the Terran Dominion, where the Regent's Throne stood. The change had been abrupt. From one day to the next, our old planetary governor was overthrown and replaced by a new regime aligned with a government that still proclaimed its devotion to the God-Emperor.
In those first days, the world changed brutally. The gangs that infested the lower sectors vanished without a trace. No one stole again, no one extorted again. The new rulers took security with absolute seriousness. Within hours of seizing power, they had exterminated without mercy anyone who opposed their total authority.
Many of us believed that, at last, our home would prosper. The young Lord Aurel had taken control of the planet and promised order, stability, and growth. But we never had time to see the real results of that new government.
Just days later, we were sent to colonize another world: New Korhal.
Our families were compensated for the forced resettlement with shares in several companies dedicated to industrial chip production. Overnight, our economic situation changed in ways we never imagined. We no longer lived on nutrient bars. We could afford fresh food whenever we wanted, walk through multi-tiered markets, and even eat grox regularly, depending on how prices fluctuated with demand.
My parents worked in factories, received dividends from their shares, and took occasional jobs. We had never had so much.
And yet, one thing never changed.
To the new rulers, we were still mutants.
No one ever explained exactly why. They only said that, on a genetic level, we were not like them. That we were "less human." That the terrans were the true heirs of humanity, direct descendants of a planet called Earth, destined—according to them—to rule the stars.
That was what they always repeated.
In theory, the terran government wanted to share that promise of ruling the stars with the rest of humanity. There was the possibility of approaching the genetic clinics and "correcting" your genome to become like them. Terran. Equal. Perfect.
The problem was the waiting list.
My turn for genetic treatment was scheduled for fifty years from now. Fifty. And if you wanted to stop being just another nobody, the rule here was clear: you had to be terran. Every position of trust in the government depended on that. Without a terran genome, you could forget about working in administration, in state-critical factories, or anywhere that actually paid well.
They didn't hide it. On the contrary, they repeated it constantly. With genetic normalization, we would be taller, stronger, more resilient, less prone to disease, and—according to them—even more intelligent.
That was why almost everyone wanted access to the treatment.
Private clinics, which controlled much of the market, charged fortunes. Practically everything a family could earn in years of work, just to go through the process. A promise reserved for a few.
I found another option.
I could undergo the treatment immediately if I agreed to go into debt with the Dominion. Full genetic normalization, no waiting, in exchange for signing a service contract with the troopers for two decades. Twenty years of my life.
The pay wasn't bad either. Around twelve hundred credits a month. For someone like me, it was a golden opportunity.
So I accepted.
For the last four years, I had done almost nothing but train. Constant training—combat, simulations, marches. Nothing ever seemed to change. I was just waiting for those two decades to pass without major incidents, hoping the service would be quiet and that, in the end, I could live like any other terran.
But the recent news hit me head-on. Now I would have to fight the enemies of the God-Emperor.
Our mobilization was swift. It didn't take long before we regrouped with our companies and regiments and began boarding the massive transport ships. We were among the first to reach the colossal vessel that would carry us to the front, and as soon as we stepped inside, we began organizing—choosing bunks, assigning shifts, distributing duties, and making sure everything was in order before departure.
Once that was done, we were assigned to help with cargo storage. Although we had a large number of servitors handling the heaviest loads, there was too much delicate military equipment that required direct supervision.
"Hey, bring that crate over here. I need to check that the cargo is in order," the captain ordered, looking at us.
A fellow trooper and I dragged the metal crate in front of him. He opened it immediately, revealing the weapon inside.
"B-2 High-Cal LMG… the marvel of terran ingenuity for erasing enemies," he said with a crooked smile.
We leaned in to take a closer look.
"Is it like the gauss rifle? Can it only be used with CMC?" I asked.
"No," the captain replied. "The Dominion's brainiacs figured out how to massively increase power while brutally reducing recoil. Its penetration is only slightly below that of a gauss rifle, but with a higher rate of fire. One hundred and twenty needles per second. This thing can make a battalion disappear in seconds. And the best part: it's designed to be used by troopers."
"Wow…" my companion muttered, trying to scratch his head and only hitting his helmet.
"That said, you'll only have the privilege of using this beauty if you're assigned to the vanguard. That's where you can earn glory for the Dominion and for our Emperor, Arcturus Mengsk." The captain raised his fist.
"So we can't use it under normal circumstances?" I asked, still staring at the weapon.
The captain locked eyes with me.
"Of course not. This weapon is worth more than you." He paused. "I'm not joking. It's worth more than you… and more than all of you." He slammed the crate shut. "At best, you'll stay in the rear, making sure the Earthsplitter Ordnance has enough ammunition to fire nonstop. So don't get any ideas about rising through merit. If you're not lucky, you'll spend the campaign hauling ammo."
We kept working. Crates and more crates. There was specialized equipment for troopers that literally cost more than our lives. The Hailstorm Launcher, a shoulder-mounted missile system with heat- and magnetically guided projectiles. Portable flamethrowers with reinforced armor. Tools designed to kill quickly, with zero margin for error.
We were storing all of that when the big dogs finally arrived.
Light walkers—Bulwark Company Goliath-class. The Fenrir squad. Shock-division tanks. Black Hammer units. A large portion of the transport hangar was saturated with heavy equipment, ready for whatever ground combat we might be ordered to fight.
As we worked, rumors began to circulate. They said another ship was carrying something even bigger. A combat walker similar to the Black Hammer, but of colossal dimensions.
They called it Odin.
Apparently, it was the most powerful combat walker the Dominion had ever built, developed in the Hoplon system and now being deployed for field testing.
Once everything was ready, the journey began. We didn't know how long it would last. Some merchants spoke of voyages that stretched on for months, so I expected something similar.
But it wasn't like that.
We had been traveling for barely an hour when the highest alert was triggered. There was combat in space.
The news completely threw us off balance. In seconds, we grabbed our ferromags, locked our weapons, and prepared for a possible boarding action. No one spoke. For about five minutes, we were in absolute tension, alert to any jolt, any order, any sign that it was our turn to fight.
Then the captain's voice echoed over the speakers of his CMC."All right, little chickens. We won the engagement. The small, weak xenos fleet is now debris. We have total control of space."He opened his CMC helmet, letting us see his grin as he continued receiving communications.
"Stand down. We're going to conduct an orbital bombardment to soften up the planet's defenses, and then we'll launch assault waves."
That was it.
I put the safety back on my weapon and returned to rest. In the mess halls, they began handing out grox meat and an absurd amount of food that, in any other context, would have been unreachable. Many of the troopers ate as if it were a celebration.
Three days passed like that.
From our perspective, nothing was happening—or at least nothing we were told about. According to the rumors spreading through the corridors, the planet was being relentlessly pulverized by the fleet, with constant strikes against orbital defenses, cities, and anything deemed troublesome.
I was getting familiar with the ammunition we were supposed to move, and the idea of staying behind the front lines suited me just fine. So when the order came to begin insertions, I was genuinely calm knowing we'd be descending into an already-ruined civilian sector, where our job would simply be to deploy artillery and support bombardment against the fortresses still holding out.
Then I heard the captain's voice behind me."Hey. Think fast chucklenuts."
I turned just in time for something heavy to land in my hands.
A B-2 High-Cal LMG.
"Uh… but… that means…" I started, stammering as I looked at the weapon.
"Exactly," the captain replied. "You were paying attention, and I'm glad to see that. You'll have the privilege of being part of the assault vanguard. You're lucky. Second Company of the Aegis had an issue with one of their men, so they were short one aegis to complete their insertion pod. When I found out, I used a few of my uncle's contacts so I could go instead." He leaned closer to me.
"BUT,They were going to bring more support equipment, but there were two hundred kilos of free cargo capacity. So I offered one of my troopers. They accepted. Don't disappoint me."He patted my shoulder with his CMC armor.
"Y-yes… I hope to honor the God-Emperor… by killing xenos…" I replied, my voice tight.
The captain frowned. "Aren't you forgetting someone in that sentence?"
"Of course. Our Emperor Arcturus Mengsk… and the Lord Regent," I said, raising my fist.
"Exactly. And you'll earn a lot of glory for our company. Go to insertion pod one-oh-two."
My legs wanted to give out, but I moved anyway. I walked down the insertion pod corridor, where members of the Royal Guard were already preparing to be the spearhead of the offensive.
Several of them glanced at me as I approached.
"Look, the corpse just arrived," one of the Aegis soldiers said, stepping closer with a twisted grin.
"I thought it was a joke that they'd send us in with a trooper," another added, sizing me up.
"Two thousand five hundred credits says he doesn't last five minutes down there," a third said, raising his hand.
"That junk he's carrying won't hold up to anything," the first one said. "Not worth betting."
"All right, enough, idiots." The voice cut through the air instantly. "Hey, calm down. These morons like jokes before an assault to relax. Now, to your positions."
We entered the pod. Inside were members of the Aegis Guard and me. My section was packed with supplies, ammunition crates, and auxiliary equipment.
"Hey, take this radio. We were planning to leave one of ours behind for this, but you can help us. Just stay back and don't peek out. Our armor can take the punishment; yours can't," the squad leader said.
"Y-yeah… sure, I can help with that." I smiled nervously as I put on the gas mask.
We stayed silent for a few minutes. I watched as the leader opened a compartment integrated into his armor.
"Here." He handed me a vial with a syringe. "Troopers don't get combat drugs, let alone the Royal Guard's chemical cocktail. But since you're tagging along, you're entitled to use it."
Before I could reply, the pod was launched. The acceleration was so violent I almost dropped the vial.
"How do I use it?" I asked, trying not to sound like a complete rookie.
"You stick it in your arm and press the injector. That's it," replied the Aegis guard beside me.
"All right. Orders are clear," the leader said. "We're to seize control of this planet's fortress. The Lord Regent wants the leadership captured for interrogation and research. Once inside, try to take unarmed prisoners. Any of them could be one of the targets."
The pod shook as we descended.
"Entering the troposphere. Prepare to deploy," the leader announced.
I secured the communications pack and held the B-2 tight against my chest. I felt pressure in my feet as the pod began to decelerate. The hull vibrated violently, mechanisms screeched all around us—and then, suddenly, the doors blew open.
"Go, go, go!" the Aegis troops shouted.
I heard the thunder of powered armor slamming into the ground as they exited. Before I could react, one of the Aegis guards drove the syringe into my arm and triggered the injector.
The world slowed down.
I followed them almost by reflex, feeling my heart try to burst out of my chest, blood roaring in my ears, every muscle responding with a strength I had never felt before.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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