StarCraft 1. Chapter 1: The beginnings of the terror

StarCraft Fanfiction Academy

Somewhere in the United States, a teenage male was writing a StarCraft Fanfiction. Where does not matter, as all that matters is the abysmal quality of the fanfiction he was writing. Somewhere else, very far away Tassadar and Zeratul stood with the Queen of Blades, Jim Raynor and Arcturus Mengsk. Perhaps the strangest part of this occurrence was that there were no signs of aggression from the Queen of Blades or any of the others. As a matter of fact, they were discussing something with a sixth person, who was Terran.

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"…and so I complete my argument as to why we need to teach them how to write properly." the sixth person finished, pointing to a screen displaying the aforesaid teenage male(and more importantly, his fanfic), just as a fan-made zergling–sue dashed by. Kerrigan absently sliced it in half, and called in a normal zergling to carry it to be absorbed into the Creep. The sixth man lowered his hand, which had been pointing at the Sue (Stu? Marty Sam? What do you call a genderless Sue-creature, anyways?) just as Kerrigan had sliced it apart. "Point." Kerrigan said, with a grin on her face. He grumbled and placed a tally next to Kerrigan's name on the scoreboard.

"_So, why would we teach them how to write well?" _Zeratul sent telepathically to all present. The implied "rather than kill them" did not need to be said aloud.

"Because the method of teaching is highly enjoyable and entertaining.", he replied.

Kerrigan butted it and said, "So what is this method?"

All he said to answer was, "It is violent."

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Some hours later, when he had elaborated significantly, all of them agreed that it was an excellent idea and were looking forward to it. Of course, as the unnamed sixth person had wanted to make this a pleasant surprise for the canon characters, he grumbled a bit. But eventually he agreed that it was for the better, if only very grudgingly. He shrugged and went about designing a building that would suit the needs, but not necessarily wants, of students from all three races, with heavy input from Zeratul, Tassadar, Raynor, and Kerrigan.

Several days later, it was agreed that the administrative building would be based off of a command center, though modified to provide a link to Protoss power. A hatchery would be nearby to provide the creep basis for all needed Zerg structures. Several creep tumors would spread the creep to house up to 300 Zerg students when they rested at night, plus added room for classes. Of course, some lessons would be rather difficult for the larger students, since, after all, none of the races buildings were designed to hold ultralisks or colossi. Especially not colossi.

Despite many difficulties like those I have listed, eventually the academy buildings were ready, the staff was determined, who was to teach what was also determined, and the registration forms were made. Now all that remained was to deliver the forms. By e-mail, of course. Cheap, effective, guaranteed to succeed.

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End of Chapter 1. Chapter 2 is the registration form. Fill one out to participate. And the Principal/Dean's name will remain unrevealed until Chapter 3.

Please Review and send _constructive_ criticism only. Advice given will be applied to future chapters as well as any sequels.


	2. Chapter 2: Registration and Arrival

Disclaimer the first: I certainly do not own StarCraft or any of its expanisons and sequels, as they are the property of Blizzard.

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Disclaimer the second:I do not own the FanFiction Academies and Universities. Those are the property of Miss Cam. If you wish to write one, request permission from her.

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Chapter 2- The registration

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We now return to that teenage male from the first chapter. Outside of his status as a fan of StarCraft, he was a fairly ordinary teenager, with all the regular teenage male concerns: grades, getting a date, catching the night's show, etc. That night, he returned home from school and set his book bag on his bedroom floor. Then he logged on to his e-mail client and started going through his new messages. Spam, Spam, SPAM-Spam, S.... no, wait. That wasn't spam. He looked carefully at the contents, and saw it was apparently a registration for some kind of StarCraft FanFiction event. He clicked the link, then began filling out the following form.

Official FanFiction University of StarCraft

Registration

Name: Alaric Smithson

Race: [Terran] Protoss Zerg

Unit: Infantry [Vehicles] Aircraft

Vehicle: Vulture Hellion Goliath Viking [Thor] Siege tank

Job: Driver [Gunner]

Confirm the following:

Name: Alaric Smithson

Race: Terran

Unit: Vehicles

Vehicle: Thor

Job: Gunner

[Correct, please submit my registration] Incorrect, allow me to edit any or all of the above

A "Thank You for registering" screen popped up, he closed the window, did his homework, and went to bed.

In the middle of the night, a shimmer entered his room, and quietly picked him up, and he disappeared into a shimmer as well. Outside, they disappeared into a wormhole, and it was as if the shimmer had not even been there.

Inside the StarCraft Fanfiction University's brand-spanking-new headquarters building, a wormhole opened and a shimmer stepped out. The shimmer quickly resolved itself into a Dark Templar, and he tossed Alaric into a pod labeled "Transport to quarters".

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End Chapter 2. To register, fill out the form above via PM, not review. For Terran Vehicles and Aircraft, select Driver/Pilot or gunner. The exceptions are the Banshee, the Wraith, and the Vulture, all of which only have one person in them. For the Protoss Carrier, select Pilot or Interceptor Pilot. All StarCraft and StarCraft II Units are viable selections. No removed unit(As of SCII: Wings of Liberty) is an allowable selection. (Examples: Twilight Archon, variations on the Zerg Queen, (Large Queen, etc.). For units with significant differences between SCI and SCII (Such as the Zerg Queen) specify which variant. Hero units (especially Zerg hero units) are not viable selections. Thank you.


	3. Chapter 3: Stunned Shock

Disclaimer: I do not own StarCraft or StarCraft II. The Official FanFiction Universities belong to Miss Camilla Sandman.

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-Chapter 3-Orientation-

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-Note: I will finally be revealing the name of the mystery man from Chapter 1. He will no longer be "the sixth man", or "the other Terran", or anything like that. The name does have a relevant meaning. The meaning is "Clever".

Alaric woke up and groaned. Another long day of school, to be followed by homework and maybe a little StarCraft if he got lucky. Wait a minute. He wasn't at home, in fact, he had never seen this place before. As he thought that, Alaric got up and looked around. With surprise somewhat muted by shock, he noted another human, and a Templar of some kind in his room. He began muttering, "This is a dream, this is a dream, this is a dream...". Just as he began muttering, however, a blast akin to a large-caliber cannon firing came from the speaker on the wall right next to his head. Immediately after that, a voice came through, just as loudly.

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"Gooood Morning Students! It is my distinct pleasure to notify you that you have been enrolled at the Official FanFiction University of StarCraft! Please report to the Assembly Hall immediately for orientation! Follow the arrows in order to get there!(Only a complete idiot could get lost) Anyone not there in fifteen minutes will have a detention, and please give us any excuse to give you one! Goodbye, and have a great day!"

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Meanwhile, the staff members were putting together the finishing touches. A Terran technician finished buffing a seam, while several Khalai (the Protoss worker/artisan caste) placed seats (for the staff, of course. Did you honestly think the students would actually get to _sit_? What a laugh.). Euclid (the mysterious Terran) dropped down on one as soon as it was available and nodded gratefully to the Khalai. He had been too anxious to sleep the previous night. Would the detention room be ready? Would the student vehicles be ready? Would everything be ready in time? Would the lessons work? And so on and so forth with the thousand-and-one other details that the head of a new school had to worry about.

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Fifteen minutes later

Alaric stumbled into the assembly hall and groaned. No seats, and almost nowhere to.... whoa. So _that_ was what a colossus looked like up close and personal. Even if the colossus had been scaled down to about seven feet tall, it was still very impressive. Just as he found a place to stand, a bell rang. _Funny_, he thought, _sounds kinda like the bells at school._

Just after that, a Terran stood up and went to the podium. He began speaking with, "Hello, and Welcome to the Official FanFiction University of StarCraft! You are here because we discovered that your StarCraft fanfictions have a distressing lack of quality, and because of that, we are going to make sure that you learn how to write good fanfictions. Now, there are several issues I must address. Number one: If a staff member tells you to do something, they probably have a reason. I would advise you all to duck right now."

'_Duck? Why would we do that?' _wondered Alaric, just as a volley of spines hissed just overhead.

"And that is why you should listen to us," the Terran continued over the screams of several students unfortunate enough to be hit by the volley, "of course, we won't always warn you. Part of the experience here is to teach you how the StarCraft universe works and functions. In universe, you don't always get a warning before an attack. In fact, you rarely do. Therefore, we will only rarely warn you. It is up to you to gain the instincts needed to survive this harsh, unforgiving universe. Now, rules. Listen to staff members. Do not use khydarin crystals provided for homework for anything else. Scourge, please try not to", _just_ as he began this sentence, a Scourge student accidentally bumped into a Ultralisk student's crest, and blew up, "...explode. Reincarnations only occur nightly. Someone make sure to bring that idiot up to speed on the layout of the school. Now, you will find your schedules where you woke up. Hope you can find your way back, and try not to die, for your own sake. It is rather difficult to go to class dead. Bye!" The students walked, stomped, pathetically flapped, and strode out of the room in a state of collective shock. Euclid grunted, "Bet half of them get lost on their way to their first class.", in the general direction of Jim Raynor. Thankfully, most of the students were in too much of a stupor to notice the other people on the stage. If they had, things would have gotten ugly, quick, and it might have been necessary to bend the reincarnation policy. For once, morningitis had been helpful. For the rest of the year, it was unlikely to be.

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-End Chapter 3-

A/N: Next chapter: The orientation for the first students of the StarCraft Fanfiction University. The pain should really start up then, including for Alaric. No, I haven't forgotten about him. As a matter of fact, I have something very special planned for him. Muahahahahaha!

If I made any mistakes with titles, please tell me so I can correct them. As always, please review.

Also, thanks to the anonymous reviewer who corrected my spelling of Khydarin. I had it spelled Khyardin. If you would contact me again, I would like to chat privately with you.


	4. Chapter 4: First Death, and First period

-Chapter 4-

Disclaimer A) I do not own StarCraft, or even pretend to own it. I do, however, play it routinely. StarCraft is the exclusive property of Blizzard.

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Disclaimer 2) The Official Fanfiction Universities are the exclusive property of Miss Camilla Sandman. The Original Fanfiction University is the Official Fanfiction University Of Middle-Earth. I recommend reading it, even if you think this spinoff sucks.

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A/N: Thank you to whoever reviewed chapter 3. Please send more reviews, even if it is just to tell me you like this. As usual, please tell me about spelling errors. Also, to address a suggestion voiced in by a reviewer, I will be doing Zerg students in any sequels I do. I plan on going like this: Terran-Zerg-Protoss. I will have a couple of Protoss/Zerg students here, but not as primary characters.

Alaric hurried in the direction he _thought _was back to his room, but he wasn't sure. While heading down a hallway, he noticed something on the floor. 'Oh, _crud'_, he thought, and started running, hoping to avoid whatever was burrowed there. As he dashed past, he heard whatever it was starting to unburrow. _Crap crapcrapcrap I am so very screwed_, he thought as he dashed towards the end of the hall to run around a corner, but as he felt the soft thuds of spikes hitting his back, he screamed in pain, and for what would certainly not be the last time, died painfully, writhing as the neurotoxin did its job. A Drone came to pick up the corpse, and carried his dead body off to be digested by a Hatchery. That day, the Drones were rather busy carrying off carcasses of students of all three races. Those who survived quickly learned that 1) Protoss students did not get shields outside of combat, and B} Zerg had no compunctions about attacking other Zerg.

Alaric woke up and groaned. He pulled himself up, and noticed that he was in a perfectly black area. "Where the hell am I?", he called to the empty air.

"limbo. a place between death and life.", responded a strange voice, "you will be here until 12:00 midnight, at which time you will reincarnate in your bed in your dorm. Be certain to ask your roommates about the layout of the school. This is a recorded message. Please follow the glowing arrows to your lesson about the history of the StarCraft universe."

Alaric looked around, perplexed, and saw several other students of all races popping into being near him, and heard them asking. Rather than listen to the message again, with its perplexing modulation, he sought out the nearest glowing arrow, and followed the trail to its end. _Hm... looks like I am supposed to press... this button, _he thought, looking at a power button on a terminal that had a glowing arrow pointing to it. He shrugged and pressed it. What was the worst that could happen? Shortly, he found out, as his body was stretched, compressed, and bent in ways that any observer could have seen could not be healthy, then he teleported to Earth Orbit. A voice began narrating... "In 2468, Earth developed warp technology. In order to test it, they filled a warp ship with resocialized criminals, and sent it off. Due to a malfunction, the warp ship ended up in the Korpulu sector and ended up establishing the first colony of the Terran Confederacy. Meanwhile, the Protoss..." and as the voice moved to different areas, the painful teleportation repeated itself. This went on for six hours. By the time it was over, Alaric was twitching in pain constantly, regretting every error he had ever made about StarCraft history in all of his fanfiction writings. Which was a rather large number.

As soon as a clock in the staff quarters blinked silently to 12:00PM, all the students whom had died that day appeared in their beds, twitching in pain. Very few of them slept any longer than two hours that night, which was a pity, since they would need to be wide awake when morning came.

6:00 AM

Alaric jumped out of bed as a foghorn blast emanated from the speaker next to him. He groaned and turned over. "Five more minutes", he muttered sleepily, turning over and trying to go back to sleep. The next thing he knew, he was doused in ice water. At that, he snapped awake and jumped out of bed, yelping in pain, and bumped into his female roommate, who was in the bed across from him. and not wearing much. Wonderfully awkward. Their Protoss roommate jumped out of the chair he had been in a semi-stupor in(he got dosed with ice water too), and landed on the pair of them, squashing them flat onto the floor. Of course, to make things _especially _awkward, the universe had conspired so that they would be in a very intimate position.

"Owwwww", the girl whined, "Get off me you jerks!"

Alaric grunted, "Until this two hundred pound Protoss moron gets off _me_, I can't do much."

At that point, the Protoss, who had, from the security cameras' point of view, been sort of stunned, shook his head and jumped off, and apologized.

_'I apologize. I landed on my head when I fell on you two, and it stunned me. My name is Selanis. What are yours?'_

"Alaric."

"Erin. I can tell from your severed nerve tendril that you signed up as a Dark Templar, Selanis, but what the heck did you sign up for, Alaric?", she inquired, while dressing rapidly.

"Thor gunner.", Alaric replied, grabbing a pair of pants and a shirt. The two of them seemed to have completely forgotten about Selanis, which seemed to suit him just fine, as he looked over his schedule, and departed for his first class: StarCraft Basics, carefully following the map on his Protoss tablet.

Meanwhile, Erin and Alaric finished dressing, in the course of which Alaric discovered that she was the driver of a Thor, and left for their first class, following the maps on _their_ Protoss tablets, hoping desperately that the staff had not decided to turn this into another torture at their expense. Fortunately, they arrived at class on time, if barely. Looking around the auditorium, they saw that Selanis had saved them a couple of seats. They hurried over and sat down in the seats he had saved them.

"Thanks", Alaric muttered, slipping in the seat.

_'It was no problem. The lesson is about to start.', _Selanis replied, then turned his eyes towards the podium, where Zeratul was taking the podium, and at the back of the stage a representative of each other species took seats. Jim Raynor was there for the Terran race, and Sarah Kerrigan, the Queen of Blades sat as the representative of the Zerg.

Zeratul punched a bell, denting it. Unfortunately, this accidental display of his strength did not prevent several fangirls (all of whom who had picked Dark Templar) from attempting to glomp him. Zeratul looked surprised that they would be stupid enough to try, then casually knocked each all the way across the room, and then continued on to the lesson.

_'Now, students. You will note that on your desks there is a khaydarin crystal. It is for today's homework. Simply pick it up, and slip it into the slot on your tablet when you get around to doing your assignment. _

_Zerg students, there is a cerebrate that will help you do your homework._

_Now, today's lesson is on the three basic StarCraft units and their actual capabilities. Now, I am quite certain that all of you think you know the capabilities of the three basic units. Zerglings and Zealots are melee units, and Marines are ranged. Marines can use stimpacks, and have the Uranium two hundred thirty eight spikes upgrade. Zealots have Charge, and Zerglings have Metabolic Boost and Adrenal glands, for movement speed and attack rate, respectively. Zerglings can also mutate into Banelings. Furthermore, Zealots beat Zerglings and Marines at a roughly 2:1 ratio, more with upgrades. All of this is correct. However, it is very much incomplete. For this class, I will be telling you about the Protoss warriors, robots, and starcraft. However, Jim Raynor and the Queen of Blades will be teaching you how things work for the other two races. Now, Zealots are actually fairly close to what is shown in-game. However, they can one-hit kill a zergling, marine, or hydralisk. When talking about units the size of hydralisks or larger, they must hit in the right place. You there, stop talking. Yes, you. Anyways, Zerglings and Marines have several vital locations within easy reach....'_

As he spoke, the students listened, intensely interested. Finally, he finished his lecture, and left. Then, Jim Raynor got up, and lectured about the capabilities of the Marine, and then he left and Kerrigan repeated the process. Each time, several students tried to glomp. Each time, either they were held back by faster-learning friends, or they slammed into some type of barrier, which was never lethal, but always _very_ unpleasant. Kerrigan was particularly brutal, and simply had zerglings drop ten feet from the rafters onto the leaping students. Simple, but it worked. She finished the class with the homework assignment: a five-page essay on the relative capabilities of the three basic units. The students groaned (if they could) and looked about to complain, but the bell rang, and they scurried onto their next classes. For Alaric and Erin, the class was vehicle training. For Selanis, it was the beginning of his training to be an actual Dark Templar, not merely in race, but also in ability. However, because this is Alaric's story, we will follow him.

End Of Chapter 4.

Sorry about how much I babble in the beginning notes. And next class, the pain begins again! This time, though, it is training.

P.S. If you have any questions, check my profile first. Seriously.

5/17/10 Also, don't expect an update for a bit. Stupid final exams.


	5. Chapter 5: PT and Lunch

Chapter 5 start.

A/N: Zerg students will appear soon. Not sure how soon. I have the plot thought out, but I don't have it divvied up into chapters. Be thankful that this update flipping happened when it did, rather than a week later. Also, be prepared for a lot of shouting.

Disclaimer1: I do not own StarCraft, StarCraft: Brood War, or StarCraft II: Wings of Liberty. They are the property of Blizzard entertainment. If you want them, buy them.

Disclaimer2 : The Fanfiction Academies are the property of Miss Cam. This one may be mine, but the concept is all hers.

Note: Alaric and Erin are all mine. Selanis is the property of Nokamiso, and should be appearing in one of his stories soon.

Note the second: _Italicized text is Protoss speech or thought of humans/zerg. __**Bold, italicized text is Protoss thought.**_

Alaric danced through the halls towards what his tablet claimed his next class was. Erin was behind him, her bright red hair flapping as she spun around someone, slipped past another person, and jumped away from yet another. He was subscribing to the brute force approach, shoving anyone who got in his way to the side. It wasn't working that well, as many of the students were either: A)larger than him, B)quadrupedal (4-footed), or C) both. In the end, he resorted to slipping into the cracks between students, or leaping over them when possible. In the end, Erin beat him by a good ten feet.

As they entered the class, barely on time, they noted a significant lack of desks. As it was listed as Physical Training (hereafter referred to as simply PT) this was no surprise. It wasn't really surprising seeing a marine standing at the front of the class, either. Some part of his mind had been hoping that one of his favorites, like Jim Raynor or non-infested Kerrigan would be teaching the class. No such luck, apparently. Suddenly, the marine rounded on them. "You are LATE! LATENESS WILL NOT BE TOLERATED! DROP AND GIVE ME THIRTY PUSH-UPS, SHITWORMS, NOW!"

At the instructor's rather loud command, Alaric dropped to the floor and started pumping out push-ups, as the rest of the class snickered at the Drill Instructor (DI) . As a result, they got the same number of push ups. By about push up eight, he started feeling the effort. By push up fifteen, he began significantly slowing down. By the time he was in the twenties, each push up was a struggle. Suddenly, the Marine began yelling at the two of them again.

"GODDAMN YOU LAZY MAGGOTS, AND I USE THE TERM LIGHTLY, MY OLD, DECREPIT, GRANDMOTHER WOULD BE FINISHED WITH AT LEAST FORTY BY NOW. YOU ARE A PATHETIC BUNCH OF RE-CRUITS! FURTHERMORE, YOU SHALL REFER TO YOURSELF IN THIRD PERSON, UNTIL YOU GET SOME KIND OF RANK! IS THIS CLEAR, RECRUITS?

"Yes, Sir." The class replied.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY?"

"Yes, SIR!", The class repeated.

"LOUDER! I WANT JAMES GODDAMN RAYNOR TO HEAR YOU!"

"YES, SIR!" The class boomed at him.

He said in a normal voice, "There you go. You now understand the basic principles of this class. All of you are gonna need to be really *expletive deleted* fit, even those of you who are in vehicles and aircraft. I mean, really - how else are you gonna get up to, into, or arrive at your vehicle with any sort of speed? Now, RUN!" he exhorted, verbally whipping them around the track for the remainder of class, carrying their tablets the whole time. Anyone who he thought was slacking got picked up and thrown into the nearest wall. By the time class ended, they were exhausted, sore, and hungry. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, lunch was right after.

Alaric arrived at the cafeteria extremely hungry. He had not eaten breakfast that morning, and believed he was starving. He was not, of course. Starving is if you have not eaten in a week or more. Of course, the body can survive for 14 days without food, possibly more, depending on a person's physical condition. Perhaps the staff was trying to make a point with this or they were enjoying themselves. The food was nothing exceptional, as a matter of fact, it was barely edible.

In the cafeteria, a cannon extended from the wall and fired a blank. After the panic subsided and the casualties were removed (a panicking Ultralisk can do a lot), an adjutant's voice came over the intercom, "Attention all Protoss students, as we were unable to completely replicate the Purity of Form that the Protoss possess, we had to modify it somewhat. Minor nutrient intake is required, and is done through the skin. All you have to do is lay in the nutrient fluid for three hours daily, and you will have fulfilled your nutrient requirements." as it spoke, a holographic arrow appeared over a pool of a neon-blue, glowing fluid," Furthermore, spending too much time in the pools will likely kill you." At that, the intercom clicked off. A moment later, it clicked back on. "Update: Only biological Protoss must spend time in the nutrient pools. Non-biological Protoss units have no need, including Dragoons and Stalkers." The intercom clicked off, and most of the students resumed talking. The Protoss students, including Selanis, walked over to the pool, and gingerly tested the goop. After dipping his toes into it a couple times, Selanis determined that the fluid was fairly warm, and was not too sticky. This determined, he slipped in, careful not to fall in. Even without a need to breath, falling in like that could be embarrassing. As soon as he slipped in, more and more Protoss joined him. A Templar slipped in next to him, obviously a Zealot by his armor, and greeted him.

"_Hello. I am Spencer. As you have probably noticed, I am a Zealot. What is your name, Dark Templar?"_, the other Protoss inquired. Selanis, however much he disliked this overly inquisitive Zealot, decided that it could not hurt to tell the Templar his name.

_" I am called Selanis." _That answering the question, he declined to continue the conversation. Selanis turned away and shoved through the thick goop to the other side of the pool. Much to his annoyance, the Zealot followed him. Selanis turned toward Spencer and inquired, "_Why do you follow me?"_, with an unintended, "_you irritating gnat." _attached to the end. Not realizing that he had sent the last bit, Selanis was puzzled when the Zealot attacked him. _**Oh, Crud. **_Selanis tried to dodge, but the goop kept him from successfully doing do. Fortunately, the pool also stopped Spencer. Meanwhile, in their wing, the staff were watching the events via an Observer and making quiet bets. Occasional curses and whoops indicated when a bet had been won or lost.

Back in the cafeteria, many of the other students watched, amused, as Spencer chased Selanis around the pool, making their own side bets, though with homework, not currency, as the medium of trade. Which is to say, a month's of homework that the Zealot catches the Dark Templar, etc. Eventually, Spencer managed to catch Selanis because Selanis tripped over an unseen bump on the floor of the pool, and began mauling him with both fists. Unfortunately for him, Spencer formed his fists so his claws punctured his own flesh, which allowed Selanis to rend an opening in his abdominal wall with his claws. In turn, Spencer raked Selanis' face, and it became somewhat of a catfight. New bets were made by staff and student alike, until both were too injured to continue, Spencer with severe abdominal damage, and Selanis with severe damage to his limbs. A pair of Medics walked in, visors down, and dragged them on the floor to the infirmary.

The Infirmary was, by first appearances, a completely normal hospital. Inside, a quick glance confirmed it _was_ a normal hospital. Mostly. Certain accommodations had to be made for eight to nine-foot students, and students whose size could make things difficult. One of the Medics carefully placed Selanis on a cot, and began looking over his injuries. _Nothing too severe,_ she thought, _so it should make good practice._ She shrugged mentally and placed a call. "Hello? I want a student who signed up to be a Medic down here. Yes, I said student. No, I didn't go insane. I just think that a case that just came in will make good practice. Who? I don't know, I haven't even seen any of them yet! Just get one in her armor and down here. After all, I don't want this guy to miss any classes.", she finished with a slightly evil grin that looked completely out of place on her fairly innocent-looking face.

Further disclaimer: Spencer is the property of DimensionsTraveler.

Updates should come a bit more often once summer gets into full swing.


	6. Chapter 6: Mini time!

Chapter 6 - Whatever could go wrong next?

A/N: Never, ever, ever say the title of this chapter aloud. Ever. It just tempts fate. And, um, PIE TIME! Also, sorry for the delay. I was busy watching HD Starcraft and Husky Starcraft cast SC2 games, as well as working on my SC game, period in anticipation of the holy 27th.

Notice: Now taking submissions for Minis! If you find the name of a character has been misspelled, send me a link to the chapter you found it in. I made Jmi up, though.

Disclaimer: Starcraft belongs to Blizzard. Not to me, not to you, and certainly not to anyone else (especially the government, whatever else it may think)

Disclaimer: students belong to whoever earlier disclaimers say they belong to.

_**Protoss thought**_  
_Protoss speech_

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Selanis

Selanis shook his head, trying to clear the foggy state his mind was in. Slowly, the room around him came into focus. _**Great, a hospital. I wonder what will happen next. I get hit by a baneling and a scourge from opposite ends? Ah, good. It seems that Zealot recovered from his abdominal removal.**_ He forced himself up, and gingerly tried moving all his limbs. Just as he was swinging his left leg over the side of the bed, a medic scurried over from her station and helped him up.

"Seems you're awake. Good. Classes resume in about fifteen minutes, so let us get your tests done and you out the door, eh?" As she said this, she pushed him over to a machine that looked vaguely like a CAT scanner. "Now please hold still, or this will take a lot longer than it has to.

Selanis groaned mentally, though apparently he transmitted this, too, judging by her reaction, and did his best to remain still for the 2-minute scan.

"Alrighty! Shoo! Get to your next class, and hope I never see you again!", the medic chirped _far_ too cheerfully.

Selanis hot-footed it out of there, barely avoiding the "motivator", which looked like a miniature ultralisk, spikes and all. He slid the tablet out of the perfectly fitted pouch on his belt, and searched it for his next class. _**Hmm. "Dark Templar 101: How to create a warp blade and other essentials of being a Dark Templar". What a redundant class name. And it is... all the way across the school. Wonderful. **_With that, he took off through the halls, desperately jumping over, under, and between other students on his way to the classroom. However, he was unfortunate enough to run through a hallway where a staff member was.

"Jimmie-poo! I wuv you!", a slight female Terran shouted, leaping a ridiculous distance (read: 4 feet) at Raynor, who had an 'oh $#!' look on his face. Her shout triggered a stampede of Raynor-lusters dashing at their object of lust, heedless of all obstacles, such as bumps, other students, walls... Fortunately for Raynor, a large number of the miniature Ultralisks Selanis had seen earlier unburrowed from the ground by Raynor and slammed into the stampede, knocking them all onto their asses. Hard. More unburrowed on the other side of the suddenly halted stampede, herding the terrified students against the wall. A couple of Mutalisks hovered, ready to stop any shenanigans by any particularly stupid flyer before they even finished thinking about it. Meanwhile, Raynor had made a quiet escape out of a convenient door. Selanis, meanwhile, had gotten trampled by the stampede, gotten up, and ran for his class, sporting a number of cuts and bruises.

-  
Alaric + Erin

Meanwhile, Alaric was hustling in the precise opposite direction, towards 'Thor 101: How to not lose your expensive damned Thor, or, if you do, kill as many enemies as possible before losing it, because you all seem to be morons.' Rather than redundant, this title was insulting. However, unlike Selanis, Alaric was fortunate enough _not_ to be in the same hall as a staff member, and thus avoided any stampedes. This time, he beat Erin in their race, and both arrived on-time  
As Alaric caught his breath, he began looking around, and froze in awe. Three-story Thors, Crucio Siege Tanks the size of houses, Hellions, Vikings, Vultures, Goliaths, all went on to the walls of the depot, obviously very far away.

"Ye like it, eh kiddo?" a coarse voice inquired from behind, causing Alaric to jump to attention, looking like a deer caught in headlights. A harsh chuckle emanated from the source of the voice, as the man wandered around to the front of the students who had, by now, assembled by the door. "Well, that's not so strange. Everyone becomes awed at first sight o' this. Hell, I was, five or six years ago. O' course, there warn't any of those Thors. But y'all are here t' learn just what one of those gigantic war machines is there for, and the large number of things it isn't there for." Thing number one: It is definitely not there to counter a large zergling attack. If you see a large zergling attack on the way, only shoot it if you absolutely have to, despite their rather high rate of fire. Thor hammers do splash, yes. They cause explosions. But they are not designed to kill large groups of units. Call for extraction or reinforcements. Number two! If you have support, then go ahead and shoot. However! Prioritize your targets, as shooting Zerglings is rather idiotic when there are Ultralisks or other higher-priority targets. Whatever the _hell _you happen to be fighting at the moment, it is necessary for your own well-being to follow target prioritization! Do you understand?" he said, booming the question, and somehow managing to imply that only a complete moron could misunderstand.

"YES SIR!", the class shouted back, showing unusual lucidity. Perhaps it was the trail of blood outside the cafeteria... or maybe it was that mini-ultralisk sitting in the back. Just where had they COME from, anyhow?

"Very well," he said, snapping his fingers," let's move on to what the proper targets and priority list are." As he snapped his fingers, a number of desks rose out of the ground, as well as a blank screen. "I will leave you ladies and gentlemen here with Mister Computer." The class groaned, evidently not thinking clearly, as the mini in the back trampled them, then roared something that certainly sounded like an expletive. It was unclear which expletive though, as it stomped back towards its spot in the back of the room. As the students got up, nursing large numbers of wounds, they stumbled into desks and prepared to take notes. "An' tha's Jmi. How on Earth, Korhal, Char, Aiur, or Shakuras you could misspell a name as simple as Jim, I don't want to know. The remainder of the class was decidedly... muted of enthusiasm, and full of wariness directed towards Jmi."

Selanis

Selanis stumbled into the classroom barely conscious. Unfortunately, this meant that he fell into a pit full of a fluid. Fortunately, the fluid was a healing solution, and set to work healing the wounds he had obtained in the halls. Painfully. The class, including Zeratul, winced at the psionic screech he let out (by accident, he hadn't yet learned to control his mental speech perfectly). If you wish to know what it sounded like, imagine fingernails screeching across a chalkboard, plus the squeaking of wet shoes on a vinyl floor, plus one other extremely annoying sound of your choice. All in all, very unpleasant.

After Selanis managed to extract himself from the healing vat, he dashed over to the back of the crowd, desperately hoping to evade notice. Meanwhile, Zeratul noted that classes on controlling mental voices were in order for next year. He was fairly certain that screeches like the one he'd just suffered through were not going to be uncommon.

_"All righty then. Seeing as everyone is here, let us move on to the subject matter." _As he stood up, a number of fangirls stampeded towards him, hoping to get their arms on their lust-object. Fortunately for Selanis, he wasn't in front of _this _stampede. Unlike the stampede Selanis had been crushed by, no minis appeared to aid Zeratul. Instead, he met it with his warp blade out, and a mad whirl of violence. Each of the fanbrats recieved a deep cut across the chest or abdomen, then a kick or punch into one of the vats. Zeratul simply grabbed the last one by the foot and swung her through the air and into a vat on the far side of the classroom. He then grabbed a psi screen and put it on, waiting for the class's reaction to the cacophony of screams to fade. _**I love this job and this piece of Terran tech, **_he thought.

Several minutes later, the screams finally faded and the class was once again on the floor in front of him. Zeratul stood and looked straight at them. _"I am not going to pretend this class is going to be something that can be remotely described as easy. It is going to push you to the limits of your bodies' new capabilities, as well as to the limits of what your mind can do. You are going to do what generally takes one of the Nezharim years in months. You will become Dark Templar, as opposed to Nezharim. Make no mistake, you are not Dark Templar yet. If I hear any of you referring to themselves as a Dark Templar, I will personally make sure that you experience pain on a level you would never have believed possible._"

-  
End Chapter 6

A/N: Well, the major classes are introduced, so this part is over. Now to the fun stuff, like fangirls, battles (Wouldn't be SC if there were no battles of epic proportion, right?), pain, more pain, and even more pain for the students. For the staff and the readers, endless amusement at the characters expense. 


	7. Chapter 7: Hell, it's about time

Chapter 7- And we discover the only thing stronger than Hormones: Sequels.

A/N: Remember, when they left home it was April. Otherwise this chapter won't make sense.  
Also, I apologize for the lack of spaces in Cef's speech. It _is_ intentional. Kerrigan and Infested Kerrigan are referred to as such.  
Finally: Hell, its about time. StarCraft 2 released today, July 27, 2010.

At dinner that night...

That night, the cafeteria was loud, raucous, and full of students complaining about: A) their reading lists, B) the cruelty of the staff, or C) How long they had to wait until StarCraft 2 came out. Selanis lounged at the edge of the nutrient pool by the table where Alaric, Erin, and a Zerg student, Cef, who tore into the tray of offal that rose out of the table with, if not relish, then determination. As in "I hate this, but I will eat it because if I don't, I will doubtless fall prey to something bad."

"So", Alaric inquired, "Why did you pick Dark Templar, instead of High Templar, Selanis?"

"_I picked Dark Templar because I do not like the High Templar as much. They are defenseless on the battlefield, only useful because of their, admittedly, impressive Psionic Storm, and ability to merge into an Archon."_ He saw one of the minis glaring at him, and finished, "_IamnotaDarkTemplar,justoneoftheNezharim!"._ That seemed to satisfy it, and it charged off into another Nezhar who had forgotten to say that. The unfortunate flew out through the door and hit the wall with a sickening *cruuuuunch!*. This time, the Medics didn't even bother bringing him to the infirmary, just patched him up there.

Cef threw back his head and gulped down a bit of something that I will, in the interest of keeping the reader's stomach contents where they belong, not describe.

"Veryveryinteresting! , buthaveverydifferentroles! Ifyoudon'tusethemfortheproperrole,."

Erin grunted, "Could you try to slow it down, Cef? I know it's hard for you, but I have a hard time understanding when you talk so fast." That said, she returned to her meal, just in time for the announcement cannon to fire.

When the students had recovered from the shock, a enormous stage rose where there was usually an extra row of tables, with a large screen suspended above it. On it, was the StarCraft 2 logo, and eight screenshots from the game. The entire staff walked on stage, preceded by the minis. The students got up and stared at their lust-objects, and several flung themselves, only to be intercepted by Minis competing for the weekly prize, with Zerateul leading by three intercepts. Alaric bounced off Kerrigun, and Erin bounced off of Reynr. Their resulting trajectories caused them to impact Spencer as he flew towards Razgal. The observer keeping score blipped in amusement and gave them extra points for those intercepts. Eventually, all the fanwriters who were going to attempt a glomp had, and Matt Horner stepped up to the podium.

"Attention, students. I am happy to announce StarCraft 2 has released today, and, as a result, you each get a free copy! It is waiting in your quarters, along with a computer compatible with your appendages or lack thereof. But first, let me show you a video." he announced, smiling broadly. The screen switched to the Ghosts of the Past trailer, a video which is, frankly, awesome. "Now, you still have to do homework, but you are allowed to play. Good luck, and have fun!"

The students looked at their lust objects for a second, then stampeded... straight to their dorms. Even the burrowed units waiting in ambush decided that a few kills were not worth being crushed under a stampede.

Staff Section  
-

Euclid looked up from the *very* large pile of paperwork on his desk with an expression that suggested that he welcomed any distraction from the never-to-be-sufficiently-damned paperwork. When he saw that it was Matt Horner, he grinned. "So, how did it go? Pretty well?"

"Certainly. I think we discovered the single thing that could overpower their hormones. It is a pity that it will take so long for the expansions to come out. Oh, and could you please try to put some soundproofing on the wall between my room and Jim's? I do like to get some sleep, and it is a bit difficult with the lovebirds in the next room."

Euclid grunted. "It's in the paperwork. It'll be there when you find it. I wonder how long it will take for the students to figure out where our quarters are."

"_Hopefully a very long time. In the meantime, have you seen some of the footage from the wave of initial attempts to glomp us? It seems that it was worth the wait to properly evolve their brains, as their sense of humor made the Overmind laugh." _Zeratul winced, then continued,"_That is a sound I would not mind waiting a very long time to hear again. Watch the video of the announcement when you get a chance."_ Judging by his body language, Zeratul was highly amused by the night's events. "_Well, En Taro Adun, and enjoy your evening."_

"En Taro Adun." Euclid replied. It had become the (Near) universal greeting/pleasant goodbye, by dint of the fact that (Almost) everyone on the staff could properly pronounce it and wasn't offended by it.

-  
End Chapter

A/N: Two things: 1) Yes, the lovebirds are Raynor and Kerrigan. A bit over a decade after Raynor's wife's death, the two of them became extremely close. More specifically, during the events of the Terran Campaign of StarCraft, they became very close. Blizzard has stated this. 2) I initially wrote this entire thing on July 27 as a sort of "celebrate the release" sort of thing. It uploaded when it did due to proper editing and beta-ing.

Please visit my profile and answer the poll there. I am curious as to my readership's favored new units.


	8. Chapter 8:SPOILERS! Exposition&Lecture

Chapter 8: Exposition and Lectures.

SPOILER ALERT: The events of the Wings of Liberty campaign are referenced, including major spoilers! Please do not read if you have not either played through the Wings Of Liberty campaign or watched a playthrough of the campaign. You have been warned! Do not post a review to complain about spoilers.

Author's Note: Well, I have been absorbing the SC2 campaign for long enough and it is high time I got back to writing this. Something important: I am trying to go with speech patterns of characters such as Mira Hann, but they are so obscure that it is kinda hard. Also, characters are slightly weaker upon being created, so they are more easily stunned. Secondly, I apologize for the skipping around. I promise it's only the first three paragraphs.

-  
3 hours before the assembly...

Matt Horner walked down a corridor in the Hyperion, intent on visiting Euclid. The new staff members were supposed to be arrivi- Suddenly, Mira materialized out of thin air onto him, flattening him against the floor. With an "Oh, crud!" look on his eyes, he pushed her off him and sprinted off to Euclid's office.

Mira recovered from the shock, and murmured, "Now that wasn't kind, Matthew. I suspect he has business to take care of. Oh, well. I will get him eventually."

-  
Principal's Office

Meanwhile, Euclid chuckled as he watched the cameras scattered about the ship. Hm. So that was where General Warfield materialized. Off to the cantina, then. Might as well grab a drink. God knew one would be nice. Damned paperwork!

Jim laid on his bed, groaning from the pain four years of memories suddenly popped into his head. Damn, but it hurt. He got up and headed out for a drink and some kind of aspirin. Maybe just a drink... or six. The events of four years, such as the return of the Queen of Blades to her human form and his enigmatic meeting with Zeratul, had given him a lot of things he would rather not think about.

-  
One month after the assembly, breakfast in the Mess Hall.

Alaric groaned as he stumbled though the mess hall, bumping into and barely shambling by other students in the same sleep-deprived state as he was. Even Zerg students, with their reduced sleep requirements and irregular sleep cycles seemed to be sleep-deprived except the rare one or two that had actually managed to get the two to four hours that they required. As he stumbled to his spot with Erin, Cef, and Selanis. Alaric glared at Selanis, thinking 'lucky Protoss, only needs 1-2 hours of sleep a night... wonder what he does the rest of it though. Probably meditates and does homework. Lucky bastard. Doesn't have to give up on sl...' , suddenly, Alaric's train of thought was broken by a scent. An elusive scent... What was it... what was it... it meant wakefulness, and brought memories of mornings at home... Coffee! Some lucky sonofabitch had a flippin' cup of coffee! Instantly more alert, he snapped his head up and scanned the room, searching for the source of the elusive scent. There it was... in the hands of a staff member. Alaric grumbled and snatched a piece of hardtack-like toast and a plate of bacon so rare you could hear the pig squeal, as well as green and brown eggs. Stupid food service, it could be barely be called food. Still, he supposed it could be worse. He could be having to eat like Cef. He wondered how the guy put up with the taste in his mouth. Ick. Intestines, liver, etcetera, and wondering if they were perhaps yours... Selanis had it so good. Coincidentally, Selanis was thinking the exact same thing, only in reverse. He longed to eat again, to taste food in his (now nonexistent) mouth.

Alaric slipped into his seat, grunted at his friends, and began soldiering through the plate. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Cef was doing much the same, though in his over-enthusiastic Zergling way. Oh god, the guy could eat... many times students wondered just how much of a Zerg bioform was stomach. A Zergling could somehow effortlessly out-eat most adult humans. Hydralisks were far worse, let alone Roaches and Ultralisks. Alaric didn't even want to contemplate what the larger Zerg air units were eating in their Spires.  
Eventually, Erin, Alaric, and Cef finished eating, with a loud slurp as Cef gulped down the last of his… meal. Cef turned his head to look at the others.

"So,howdidyouthreedoon thelasttest inBasics OfProtossSociety?"

"You mean Tassadar's class? Barely passed that test. I don't get the point of that class. I mean, I'm trying to do well so I can get my license and all, but it doesn't seem that useful for writing fanfiction," Alaric replied.

"So? Neither is me learning to be a Dark Templar or you learning to be a Thor gunner, or any of us learning to be the units we signed up as, "Selanis interjected. "I suspect that some of these classes are for- Ouch!", ending his sentence as he was crushed below an overzealous mini for forgetting to add some kind of reminder that he was not yet a Dark Templar. One exceptional student had managed to get the hang of cloaking for the epically long time of five whole seconds. All any of the rest of the students could manage was to become sort of blurry. Blade work was at least going somewhat better, with students managing to form the shadowy beginnings of the blade/double scythe, lasting for 15 minutes at the high end and 10 minutes on the low end, allowing for extensive lectures and note taking while simultaneously attempting one of two strenuous activities: cloaking or maintaining a blade. Inevitably, one or the other suffered, resulting in massive pain and a pointless resolution not to fail again. Which they did, starting the cycle again. Hooray for educational pain!

Breakfast finished, and the students dispersed for another day of classes, the less fortunate toward Tassadar and the other lore teachers' classes, the more fortunate towards the exciting tactics/combat classes. Perhaps the least fortunate, however, were those heading towards study hall, where doing anything that wasn't studying resulted in significant bleeding and a trip to the hospital, if the Medics assigned felt like bringing the injured individual. If the Medics did not, then all in the study hall got a very in-depth lesson on internal anatomy of whatever the injured party happened to be. Roaches didn't even get Medic attention, however. Roaches got to writhe in pain until their incredible regeneration fixed their body, taking an average of 36.82 seconds of unbelievable pain, depending on the viciousness of the mini delivering the pain. Ocasionally, a Reaper would pop in, shoot the offender, and leave a pizza on the desk. Stupid Blizzard gag quotes and the Reapers taking them a little too literally. Oh, and because the pizza was delivered in under 30 minutes, the Reapers left bills for the pain and the pizza, usually looking like so:

Pain: $30.40

Pizza: $ 6.98

Cheese: $ 3.98

Crust: $ 7.35

SubTotal: $48.71  
Tax: $97.42  
Total: $146.13  
Failure to pay by the end of the day will result in additional pain, brought to you by Reaper Pain and Pizza Inc. Thank you for shopping at RP&P, and have a nice day!

To add insult to injury(or perhaps just another injury), the pizza was of terrible quality. Always. Still, what did you expect from a company formed and staffed by a large number of criminals so extreme, resocialization doesn't work, and because of this, they are chemically altered to be hyperagressive. Now put them in an environment with nothing to do, a list of their gag quotes, and a lot of time on their hands. Are you really surprised at the result? No? Good. So the Stalkers were in anoth-

"Get on with it!", Euclid called in minor annoyance, avoiding the few bricks that came off the fourth wall, and levitating them back into place with his minor talent.

Fine, fine. Have it your way. Hmmph. I go off on one tangent and-

"Get on with it!", chorused the staff in the lounge, punching, kicking, and telekinetically launching fallen bricks from the fourth wall back into place.

Alright, alright. Getting on with it. I suppose what Selanis was doing is as good a place to start as any. He was sitting in the corner of "The Caste System and Why It Is Not Like Hinduism", the course that Karass had been convinced to teach in exchange for being allowed to head the Templar forces in the field. All in all, and exceptionally boring class, and all the more necessary for it, as many students seemed to have decided that Protoss=giant Hindu society, as a result of not doing their research thoroughly enough Since the staff seems not to like me getting off on tangents, I'll just say that it is a very heavily research-based class. As we enter, Karass was in the middle of his lecture, saying "now, a specific difference to look at is the difference between the Brahmin Hindus and the Protoss Judicator castes. The Judicator are the judges and rulers of our society, but they are no higher than any of us. All protoss are…?"

"Equal.", the class chorused to him, evidently having heard this line several times before.

"Correct. Or rather, all Protoss are equal until they prove otherwise. A prelate is higher than most other Protoss, subservient only to the Council and the Executors. The exceptions are the Dark Prelates. The High Executor is superior to all other members of the military, and is currently the supreme commander of the Protoss race, due to the lack of a Council. I could show you the amount of paperwork Selendis has to deal with daily, but I think most of you would fall unconscious from shock. What? You thought we don't have paperwork? Just because the Xel'Naga gifted us with purity of form, that doesn't mean that we are above needing bureaucracies."

Yep. A thoroughly boring lecture. The rest of our main characters were attending equally boring lectures, though they were on: Thor maintenance procedures and just what all those blinking lights mean (Alaric and Erin), and what constitutes healthful food for eating in the field, and when to eat(Cef).

End Chapter 8  
A/N Action next chapter, I hope. That or we will see more of Zeratul's teaching methods.


End file.

StarCraft