Putting out the call

[Jim Raynor]

Jim sucked on his cigar, listening to the abundance of newcomers to the room. He started to wonder if leaving his CMC-400 armour in the foyer was a wise move, considering the belligerence of these other denizens of the Omniverse that had responded to Doctor Regal's distress call. So many of them seemed unstable and ready to slaughter anyone else for the slightest provocation, especially that skin-and-muscle creature with the metal underwear. In Jim's experience, touchiness to that extremity was a sign of poor self control, or in Tychus' case, being stuck between a rock and a hard place. That was concerning, if he was forced to work with any of them. His left hand gripped the cigar in two fingers, smoke curling from the tip, while his right climbed down to his side and paused on his revolver. If things got heated, Jim knew how to handle himself. He'd been in plenty of bar fights in his time, even started some of them, but he rarely lost.

In any case, he had promised himself he would hear out the doctor. Jim didn't have to commit if things weren't on the up and up, but he wouldn't leave a soul in need of assistance. In fact, the more time he spent with those gathered, the more Raynor thought Doctor Regal was digging himself deeper into trouble. Then again, his mind drifted back through portals to the Town With No Name. Swann had better been getting along with Karax. Perhaps that was the fire he was supposed to be putting out, rather than sitting silently through a bunch of threatening bravado. Jim felt an itch that he couldn't scratch, the itch that arose when he was sitting around doing nothing for too long.

"All right, all right," Jim said, smoke abandoning his mouth in one large cloud, briefly shrouding his tired face. "We all get it. You're all very scary. Why, I think I may have ... " Jim punched his chest lightly with a fist, as if trying to clear an obstruction. "Yes, I think I had a tiny heart attack, I'm so afraid." Jim took another drag of his cigar, his brow furrowed, and jetted the smoke from his nostrils. "Now that we've all established that, maybe the good doctor can fill us in on these computer chips."

Jim had to wonder what was so special about it. The tiny chip rested easily in the palm of Regal's hand. What was in it? A virus, or some sort of enhanced AI? Maybe crucial intel? It was all up in the air till the doctor said something, and Raynor hoped that all these blowhards would find the restraint to sew their fat lips shut so that Regal could finally reveal their purpose.