The Protoss fleet ceased its attack. Selendis's voice echoed one final time, tinged with complex emotion: "You have proven the will to fight for the survival you deem right. The Protoss fleet shall withdraw. The fate of Haven, from this moment forth, is no longer the concern of the Protoss."
jumping away, the golden fleet departed, and peace returned to the sky—though the earth below lay ravaged.
In the camp, people who had survived the ordeal wept as they embraced one another. Raynor removed his damaged helmet, his face a picture of sheer exhaustion.
Dr. Hanson walked up to him, tears in her eyes yet shining with light: "We made it, Jim. The planet is saved. My research can continue."
Raynor nodded, looking over at Osiris and Valerie beside him, saying solemnly: "Consultant, Miss Valerie, without your critical technical support and advice, we wouldn't have held out till the end. The Raiders won't forget this favor."
Osiris gave a subtle nod: "Technical support within the scope of our agreement is complete. Congratulations on winning your survival."
He turned to Dr. Hanson, his pale blue optical lens fixed upon her: "Dr. Hanson, your research direction and results have demonstrated extraordinary value. Far Star Alliance has always maintained an open stance toward biotechnology research with practical application potential. Should you require resources, equipment, or technical exchanges in Haven's reconstruction or subsequent research, we can provide support."
Dr. Hanson was slightly caught off guard, but quickly offered a cautious and polite response: "Thank you for your company's recognition, Mr. Consultant.
Haven's reconstruction and treatment will be a long process, and I need time to clear my thoughts. However... I am not opposed to constructive technical cooperation in the future."
Osiris said no more, replying calmly: "I look forward to your choice. The communication channel remains open."
On the other side, Tychus inspected the damage on his power armor while bellowing at the top of his lungs: "Alright, this mess is finally over. Jimmy, don't forget we still have real business—the buyer for that 'antique' isn't gonna wait around forever." His voice was loud enough for everyone around to hear clearly.
Valerie stepped up to Raynor's side at the right moment, speaking in a clear and professional tone: "Commander Raynor, given the foundation of trust and collaboration we built during the Haven crisis, Far Star Alliance is willing to explore a deeper mode of cooperation.
I can continue accompanying you as a liaison representative, providing deeper support in intelligence, technical analysis, or resource coordination in specific fields. This might help you deal more efficiently with future... complex situations."
Raynor looked at Valerie, then glanced at Osiris standing silently not far away. These people from "Far Star Alliance" had indeed provided decisive assistance at critical moments, and so far had made no unreasonable demands.
He needed every bit of strength to help him fight Mengsk and the Zerg, as long as he kept his guard up.
"Works for me," Raynor said eventually. "Miss Valerie, you're welcome to stay aboard the Hyperion. We can take our time discussing the specific details of our cooperation."
At this point, Osiris's voice chimed in calmly: "Regarding the 'antique' Mr. Findlay mentioned—if it refers to an ancient relic possessing anomalous energy characteristics, Far Star Alliance's exploration division has a specialized research framework for identification, historical tracing, and potential risk analysis for such items. Such objects are often accompanied by unpredictable dangers. If you don't mind, I can tag along as a technical consultant to offer relevant analytical support."
His proposal seemed entirely natural, as if it were merely a routine extension of his professional domain.
Raynor pondered briefly: "Consultant, we've seen what you can do. If you want to move with us, you're welcome aboard. But the rules don't change—I call the shots, and info gets shared."
"Reasonable," Osiris answered. "I will follow your command structure and provide analysis reports within my professional scope."
The matter was settled. Dr. Hanson would remain on Haven, leading the survivors to rebuild their home and continue her treatment research.
Osiris would board the Hyperion, joining Raynor's crew as a "technical consultant" with his sights set directly on that mysterious "artifact." Valerie would continue alongside as a liaison representative to coordinate deeper cooperation.
A few days later, basic repairs on the Hyperion were complete, and she prepped for departure.
On the launchpad, Dr. Hanson said a simple farewell to Raynor. "Take care, Jim. May your path lead to the light."
"You too, Ariel. Build a good home here."
Raynor boarded the warship. Osiris and Valerie also stepped onto the Hyperion, their shuttle docked inside the hangar bay.
On the bridge, Matt reported: "The Haven colony sent over a banner; it's been hung in the bar per standard routine."
"Hang it up," Raynor said to Matt, gazing out the window at the planet shrinking in the distance. "Set course. We're going to meet up with Tychus's 'buyer.' Let's see what secrets that 'antique' is actually hiding."
The Hyperion's thrusters flared, sailing out into the vast sea of stars.
The interior corridors of the Hyperion felt somewhat low and cramped to Osiris.
Exposed wiring on metal walls, an aging lighting system, and the faint smell of engine oil mixed with recycled air were all logged clearly into his sensors.
He maintained a steady pace behind the escorting crew member, his pale blue optical lens calmly scanning every detail along the route: bulkhead structures, fire safety interfaces, and the faint noise spectrum of the artificial gravity generator.
He was evaluating the technical level, maintenance status, and potential modification headroom of this Terran warship.
His destination was the engineering deck. The crew member leading the way stopped upon entering a spacious area filled with louder noise and welding sparks, pointing toward a workbench half-surrounded by various pieces of equipment: "Mr. Swann is usually right over there, Consultant. You can head right on over."
Osiris nodded in thanks, his gaze already locked onto the target.
Rory Swann was leaning halfway out of an SCV construction mech, datapad in hand, shouting down at a few technicians below: "...the main power line coupler in Port Section 3 has to be swapped out today! Look how bad these readings are drifting!
Don't give me that crap about not having enough spare parts—go strip Generator Four, we don't need that thing right now anyway!" His voice was booming and carried unquestionable authority, his greasy work clothes and stain-covered gloves serving as his most prominent signature.
As Osiris approached, Swann happened to turn his head and spotted this unfamiliar figure whose demeanor was distinctly different from any crew member on board.
Raising a thick eyebrow, he hopped down nimbly from the SCV, casually wiping his hands on his trousers.
"New face," Swann sized Osiris up from head to toe, his gaze lingering briefly on the man's overly neat clothing and expressionless face.
"Heard some top expert from the Earth sphere showed up? That you?" His tone was direct, marked by an engineer's pragmatic nature without unnecessary pleasantries.