The Good Doctor

These are interesting times.

Ariel Hanson didn't know who'd coined that phrase. She knew it was in the lexicon well before the Long Sleep, but its point of origin was unknown to her. Yet, the phrase was known, and she knew it to be true. Humanity had lived in "interesting times" for the last six years. Half a decade that had seen the Confederacy fall and be replaced with an equally despotic regime, the emergence of two alien species in the Koprulu sector, the arrival and defeat of the United Earth Directorate, and three interplanetary wars that had taken the lives of billions. As interesting as the times were, Ariel knew a lot of people who'd prefer to have far more boring ones. And despite her profession as a scientist, at times, she was inclined to join them.

"Ariel," the man said.

Right now, this was one of them. She watched as the man looked around the interior of the admin office, his eyes lingering on Haven Colony's scientists, administrators, and militia leaders. "Can we talk?" the man asked. "Alone?"

"Why? So when you stab me in the back, no-one sees?" The man opened his mouth to retort, but she beat him to it. "Fine. We can talk. Just send your grunts packing as well."

She was referring to the two marines that stood behind the one leading them. Gold visors, red armour, gauss rifles that couldn't be held by an unarmoured human due to how big they were. She looked at Joanna, the colony's militia leader. How she was fingering the slughthrower holstered in her belt. Ariel shot her a look.

Don't, the glance said.

Joanna gave her a look as well. It was like the one that she'd given her when she'd allowed the Terran Dominion shuttle to land. She'd pointed out that with a battlecruiser in orbit of Haven, the Dominion could have reduced the colony to cinders if it wanted to, and all her people would be able to do was yell abuse before being incinerated. So, despite her security chief's objections, she'd allowed a single shuttle to land. This was an independent colony, she'd insisted, and its sovereignty would be respected.

As the people and the marines filed out, she was reminded that Haven's sovereignty existed only as long as the Dominion or protoss allowed it. That a fellow terran was here was at least a step up from one of those aliens coming back to this world, seeking to finish what their executor had started. But the fact that the man before her was one that she knew? One that had helped defend this place two years ago?

"So," Jim Raynor said. "Interesting times."

She wasn't sure how she felt about that. Or, worse, how she felt about him. Giving herself time to think, she turned around and headed back for her desk. The one marked A. HANSON – ADMINISTRATOR. One which she sat in and felt under the desk for, checking that the slugthrower was still there.

"See you did something with the place," Raynor continued. He took a few steps forward, his CMC armour making a 'clunk' sound with every step. He looked around, as if he'd never been in a prefab structure before. "Like the…painting."

"Didn't know grey was your colour," Ariel murmured. She leant back in the chair, took off her glasses, and began to polish them. "Or red."

Raynor didn't say anything. Maybe her words had cut through all that armour her wore. If so, good, she reflected. Though nevertheless, after she put her glasses back on, she gave him a look. He hadn't changed much in the two years since she'd last seen him, and the armour he was wearing was black, rather than red. Armour that she hadn't seen him wear before, but armour that he'd referred to during their time together in the Hyperion. Armour that dated back to the Guild Wars, and was dented, scratched, and had no shortage of symbols and motifs.

"Listen, Ariel…"

But he was still with the Dominion, black or no black. He'd still come down to Haven with Dominion marines.

"Can we-"

"Why are you here, Jim?" she asked.

"I thought Lieutenant Munroe made that clear. The Dominion is-"

"No," said Ariel. "Why are you here? You spend years fighting against the Dominion. You rescued me and my people from Agria when the Dominion left us out to dry. Two years ago, you said that you had to finish what you started. And now?" She gestured to him with both hands. "What the hell?"

He looked uncomfortable, and when he spoke, it was with a soft voice. "Times have changed," he murmured.

"Oh yes, I can see that," she snapped.

"New emperor, new regime."

"And you're wearing its colours," Ariel said. He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off. "I know history, Jim Raynor. Six years ago, Arcturus Mengsk made a grand speech about how things were going to change. How the Confederacy was gone, and how something better had risen from the ashes. You think that just because his son is in charge now things are going to be different?"

"Things are different," Raynor murmured. "That's why I'm here."

"By bringing a Dominion battlecruiser into orbit above Haven?"

"Yes. You think if Arcturus was in charge, he'd have let me come at all?"

Ariel stared at him, the implications cutting through her like a knife through ice. It cut deep, and it filled her with a chill. Still, she did her best to contain her surprise. Jim Raynor was still standing in front of her. Jim Raynor was a man who'd saved her life and her people's lives three times over, and at the end of the day, was still a man she couldn't look at without feeling…something. Infatuation, granted. But still, something. Something compounded by the knowledge that regardless of whatever had happened on Korhal a year ago, was the fact that he was now serving a regime that had screwed them both over.

She didn't know how to feel about that. Right now, she didn't know how to deal with it either. She swivelled over in the chair and looked at the Haven flag draped against one of the walls. "Gave you a copy of that once," she murmured.

"Still on the Hyperion."

"And where is the Hyperion?" she asked, swivelling back to face him. "I didn't see Matt on the view screen an hour ago."

"Matt and the Hyperion are elsewhere, fighting against the same enemy that's coming for Haven," Raynor said.

"Yes, your lieutenant mentioned that. Though if this enemy is attacking the Dominion, I don't see why that bothers us."

"Considering this enemy is attacking everyone and everything? Yes, it does. It's why I'm here. It's why I've got a battlecruiser here. It's why I want to start fortifying the colony."

Ariel got to her feet. "No. Absolutely not."

"Ariel…"

"No, Jim," she said. "I'm not letting Dominion forces here. Not after everything my people have been through. You think that after Agria, after Meinhoff, they're going to just let Dominion forces waltz in here?"

"If it means that you survive? Yes."

Ariel snorted. "Then you don't know them Jim. And you don't know me." She folded her arms. "Fekk, maybe I never even knew you."

Raynor frowned. "Maybe not, if you think I'd just stop once Arcturus went away."

She could tell that he was sincere. Which, she wondered, might be part of the problem. They'd talked about things on the Hyperion. How Jim Raynor had gone from Confederate marine, to outlaw, to Confederate marshal, to Sons of Korhal rebel, to rebel leader, to protoss ally, to Dominion ally, then back to a rebel leader. Her father might have said that he was an idealist. Her mother, ever the cynic, would have said that he just needed to fight for something because that was all he was good for. Why she was thinking of her parents now, Ariel didn't know, but-

Hell.

She knew exactly why. And she also saw that he was looking out the window. As if he was damn well trying to make her see him as she once had. Mysterious. Bold. Daring. Handsome. The proverbial space cowboy, come to sweep her off her feet.

"Saw the graveyard on the way down," he murmured. "Still surviving though."

Ariel sighed. "There's more headstones than bodies you know." He looked back at her. "The people infected with the virus? We burnt the bodies. And last year, when we had an outbreak of red rush? Lost people then too."

"Red rush?"

"It's a pathogen native to Haven. Swept through the colony like fire." She began to polish her glasses again. Looking at her hands, remembering when they were covered in both plastic and blood, as the infected's insides liquefied and were expunged from the body. "Found a cure, but…well, we saw what one infection did to us. We weren't going to take any chances again." She looked back up at Raynor. "Don't worry, you haven't been on the planet long enough to have any risk of infection."

"Well, that's good."

"And you won't be on it long enough for it rear its head." She walked back to the desk, picked up a pen in one hand, and gestured to the door with the other. "Exit's that way."

"Ariel…"

"Jim, no. Whatever war the Dominion's found itself part of, I want no part of it. My people want no part of it. We've had peace for two years, and I'm not jeopardizing that."

"Ariel, you don't have a choice."

She glared at him. "Was that a threat?"

Raynor said nothing. He just took a data pad from his waist, attached to his armour via a magnetic strap. He handed it to her. "Just look at this."

She sighed. "Jim…"

"Just look at it," he snapped.

She almost recoiled. Not just from the tone of voice, but the look in his eyes. It was a look she'd seen before. On the Hyperion, in the cantina. It was a look he'd shoot the flatscreen as reports came in of the zerg, of the Dominion, of Mengsk. A look that she'd learnt to quickly steer clear from lest she get caught in the warpath. Or, in this case, to take the data pad and behold the image on-screen.

It wasn't much. It was a single ship, one that she recognised as being protoss in design. But having seen protoss ships two years ago, she could also recognise that this one had variations. It was black, rather than golden, barely visible against the background of space. If not for the red glow and protruding crystals, she doubted it would have been visible at all. She looked up at Raynor. "What is this?" she asked.

"Protoss ship. Carrier-type. And also one that's been exposed to Void energies to the extent that it's warped its hull." He gave her a dark look. "You don't want to see what the crew looks like."

She took his word for it, but nevertheless asked, in a low voice, "and what does this have to do with me?"

"Because that carrier is only eleven light years ago. And from what Intelligence has told us, once it links up with some other capital ships, it'll head for this system."

Ariel's heart stopped.

"No prizes for guessing which planet they're interested in."

Stopped, and experienced the sensation of an icy hand squeezing it. "They…they're coming back?"

"These protoss, yes. Same protoss that have been killing everything and anything they can. Same protoss that have been fighting alongside terrans and zerg. Protoss fighting protoss, protoss fighting terrans, protoss fighting zerg."

Ariel stared at him, before putting the data pad down on the table between them. "That's insane," she whispered.

"Ariel, I was on Korhal, and I've been on half a dozen planets since then. 'Insane' doesn't begin to cover it."

Ariel looked up at him. Met his eyes. Looking for something, anything to indicate that he was boscrapping her. But to no surprise at all, there wasn't. James Raynor was many things, she reflected. But he wasn't a liar.

"How…" She took a breath. "How long?"

"Days, hours, weeks, don't know. Only reason we know of this at all is because of a missive Artanis sent us."

"Who?"

"Artanis. Protoss hierarch. Kind of like an emperor, except without the whole genocide thing."

Ariel wasn't sure about that. She'd been alive in the Great War. She'd seen images of what the protoss had done to various worlds. Genocide seemed to be their M.O. And that wasn't even mentioning what had happened here two years ago, when a protoss fleet had arrived with the intent on killing all of her people because some, just some of them were infested.

"This is the war," Raynor said. "Might be the last war. Might not. I don't know. All I know is that Artanis is doing what he can, Sarah's doing what she can, and I'm sure as hell going to do what I can. Which means either you agree to let me fortify Haven, Ariel, or it's going to lose all claim to its namesake mighty soon."

It took all her willpower not to ask who this "Sarah" was. Her, Jim…it was over. Heck, it had never really started. Whatever had happened since was none of her business, she'd told herself. She'd offered him a life here. He'd refused. That had been the end of it. Only now, fate, if it existed, had thrown them back together.

"Ariel," Raynor whispered, "I need an answer. Heck, I needed an answer an hour ago."

Ariel didn't believe in fate. But she did believe in doing the right thing. And while not entirely sure what the right thing was these days, she whispered, "yes."

"Ariel?"

"Yes," she said, looking up at him. "Haven is…Haven is yours. To fortify." She leant back in her chair, letting the enormity of the words sink in. "Do…whatever you have to do." She pressed her desk's intercom. "Joanna, get in here. You've got some liaising to do."

"Doctor Hanson?"

"Now, Joanna." She shut the button off and looked at Raynor. She smiled, but he didn't return it. Maybe because he knew what was coming.

"Well then," she murmured, "best get to it."

"Right." He looked around. "Liaising."

Ariel watched him. Looked at him as he got on the radio, informing the battlecruiser above that they'd be staying, and asking about the prospect of reinforcements. From the sound of it, those didn't sound forthcoming. Like two years ago, it appeared Jim Raynor was going to be alone in this fight. And unlike two years ago, when the protoss had backed off after the destruction of their mothership, it sounded like this one was a battle that would be fought to the end.

But he was here. That counted for something.

And for her, much as she hated to admit it, counted for a lot.

A/N

So, fun fact, data exists for Hanson as a commander in the map editor, or so I've read. Hence, this. You may be asking why now, as opposed to when she's released, but to that I say that's more a question of "if?" But I figure that of all the potential terran commanders or mission givers in the mode, Hanson's a logical choice either way.

Whatever the case, drabbled this up.