The Soulless and the Soldiers

Joeyray's Bar
He was home.
Which was impossible, of course, because the Zerg had infested it, killing nearly the entire population. Shortly thereafter the Protoss had turned the whole surface to ash.
But he was home.
The smell of the Fous Trees wafted pasted him. In all his years he had never smelled anything that was half as pleasant as the aroma that was produced by the thin, frail trees. It was possible that it was only the nostalgia that made them so wonderful. Reger tilted his head back and breathed deep, inhaling as much of the sweet, soft scent as possible while taking in the gentle blue skies of his birth world. Memories flooded back to him as he filled his lungs.
He craned his neck forward to meet the gaze of his old sweetheart, her broad, warm smile filled him with hope that was long lost. Behind her stood his parents, they were waving at him. He didn't have the strength to return the gesture. Next to them was his childhood friend, a strong yet withdrawn boy. He didn't register that Reger had been gone, or that he had been dead, only greeting him with his trademark deadpan glare. Behind them was the flimsy wooden farmhouse he grew up in, it was often the target of ridicule from those who had more modern homes. Behind that rotten mess were the fields that he worked throughout his childhood, it wasn't unusual for him to spend hours on end working the machinery that planted, cultivated, and reaped the sow. Further past that was the town, where he went to school and played with friends.
Reger was too busy trying to stem the flow of all his old memories to realize the girl of his dreams was saying something to him. He snapped out of it just in time to hear her say:
"... you don't have to keep fighting, Reggie."
Had this been just after the invasion, he would have been brought to tears.
But that's not him any more.
"I know."
He didn't show any emotion, he was simple stating a fact.
She opened her mouth to reply, but her voice was drowned out by the siren.
He couldn't tell where it was sounding from. He didn't remember any alarm systems near his farm. Then the cold hit him. It was always hot on his home planet, always.
That's when he got up out of his bunk. Barely coherent enough to realize he was going through the alarm procedures that had been drilled into him during training.
The grogginess quickly wore off, and Reger remembered his place. Home was a distant dream, he's a soldier now.

I'll be updating this erratically.
And I'm not prewriting this on anything.
Aaaaaand I'm winging it with the story, barely a basic structure for a plot line.

Half an hour later Corporal Reger Reac was fully suited and prepping his squad for an emergency drop.
Their Battlecruiser had gone head to head with a flight of Mutalisks. The Zerg fliers had all perished in a fiery laser fueled storm, but one of them must have scored a critical hit because the ship was being evacuated.
Usually this meant that everyone on board would be dropped onto a nearby asteroid with enough supplies for a couple weeks, months if your lucky, and left to die. Fortunately they were stationed by a colonized world, so they can drop into a planet with breathable atmosphere.
But if there is one thing Reger knew about the Zerg, it was that they always finish what they started.
If some Mutalisks had attacked them, it wasn't by chance. They were most likely a scouting party, sent ahead of a brood to find planets viable for infestation.
More of them will come.
Without backup or a proper evacuation of the colony, everyone there would be dead in weeks.

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