Snippet #1388082

Four more days until the deadline.

UNN Field Reporter Kate Lockwell was sifting through the pile of papers on her desk: written reports, intercepted transmissions, bursaries and even Emperor Mengsk's grocery lists, glancing over each of them before crumpling them viciously and practicing her three-pointer with the trash can. Unfortunately, she was never any good with sports, so by the second hour mark the floor had been littered with crumpled paper balls, and some dashes of torn-out jet-black hair.

Ten rumors investigated, leading to nine dead ends and one repulsive discovery about the hygiene standards of Terran Marines in an interview, and she has not even a draft for her editors. No scoop. No breaking news. This was the end of her short-lived journalist career.

Kate was promised high-octane frontline action when she came aboard the UPS Washington, but the only action she witnessed was when one of the ship engineers cheated during their game of bridge and they had to toss him out the airlock. She supposed she could write a story about the psychological effects of prolonged travel in space, but that was as bland a headline as you could get. Things like 'Zerg', 'pirates', 'Raynor'. Those got the people's eyes widening.

Sometimes Kate wished that her story would come so easily as to be shouted out via loudspeaker clear enough for her to hear. Today she got her wish.

"We are about to debark from Umojan orbit. Our mission is simple: we are to attempt to find a connection between the Delragan Pirates and the Dominion, whom the latter we believe may be supplying the former with highly advanced weaponry with the intent of further hampering our trade. Needless to say this cannot be taken lightly. In order to do this, we will be paying the Delragan port of Plymoth a visit. You will be receiving further details about the mission later."

Her head that had been lying flat on the desk suddenly shot up, a paper clip fastened obstinately on her tresses.

"Though chances of orbital combat are slim, I ask any civilians who may not wish to place themselves at risk to leave immediately. You have eight hours to make that choice before we leave. After that, I will not turn this ship around for anyone. That is all."

"Like hell I'm gonna leave now," she said under her breath, simultaneously reloading her camera and cocking her pistol. Or was she cocking her camera and reloading her pistol? It didn't matter. As long as she knew when to shoot which.

___________________________________

She reached the bar much longer than she intended. The UPS Washington was a large ship, and she was never good with navigation.

"Commander Alexander," Kate greeted confidently, with the professional, aloof air so demanded in her line of profession. She offered her hand, her microphone in the other, "Kate Lockwell, Universe News Network. I understand we are about to engage in some orbital combat against pirates. I understand the need for military confidentiality, but is there anything you would like to share with the people back home about the war we are facing here?"