Preface:

I have taken my own liberty with this story: It does not follow the Starcraft story line, but is an entirely independent story, set in the Starcraft universe. As such, I have taken my own freedom with several units and their apperance, characteristics and abilities are often my own idea. the timeline is somewhere in between Brood war and Starcraft II, as you can guess from the details. As any writer I appreciate Constructive critique, but as I am from Sweden, English is not my native language, so please excuse me for the problems in spelling and grammar which are there, I just can't find em :)

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The darkness of space seemed too shift and blur, distorting itself around a distant spot, forming a black hole which spun space around itself until the very stars were long blurry lines in the spirally vortex which pulled everything in to itself. It sucked in upon itself into an infinite beyond and giving an impression of travelling at impossible speeds. Longer and longer did it bring him, into a beyond way beyond the very edge of space, into the very heart of microcosmos, into the void between the stars. He was being pulled by a force stronger than anything he had ever felt, so strong that it had gripped him almost without warning and accelerated immediately into these imaginary speeds he was travelling. Fuzzy shapes seemed to whizz past him, or gather into coagulating moulds in front of him, only to disappear moments later, as if he was travelling through liquid.

A large, dark shape reared up before him, but it did not disappear like the others but instead solidified the closer he came, as if this was his goal, the force that dragged him. And suddenly he appeared to stop, as suddenly as he had begun to travel. Space floated out into comprehensible shapes, but he still did not know where he was, because there were no stars, suns or planets around. The darkness that was this place was not space, but seemed to be an entity of its own, summoned up to trap him in a personal prison. The shape that reared up was dark, but still darker than the surroundings who still were pitch black. It seemed that the darkness that it consisted of radiated itself upon his mind, so that he clearly could make up the shape of it even though he could not really see it in the darkness.

A pair of glowing red eyes glared out from it high above him, so that it appeared many times taller than him. He knew it was because this thing was immensely more powerful than him, that its very height seemed to be drawn from its power. The eyes stared out above, searched for something. They swept upon the invisible ground he was standing on, seeming to scorch it with its glowing power. He knew only that he needed to avoid this gaze above everything else, but the more he felt he struggled the more he stood fixed, like moulded into his shoes, and the red eyes swept closer and closer, searching for him. He knew now that it was he they searched for. He could feel it. Feel the stare in his head, the eyes were already looking at him. He felt the power they radiated, and this power burned him, flooded into his mind like a great torrent of burning lava, and he screamed with the pain for the eyes had found him found him and were looking at him and laughing and he was going to di

"Grant! Grant, for Zerg's sake, snap out of it!"

Reality awakened with the cool air that rushed to fill his lungs as he woke up. The radio buzzed into his ear with the harsh voice of his squad leader. He struggled to stabilise himself, concentrated on his breathing. That was the key. Breathe. His heart slowed. It'll pass. He reached out his trembling hands and grasped the controls before him. The familiar touch of the smooth handlebars slipping into fit his fingers told him that is was over. He was back. The Wraith had gone into autopilot when his mind had disappeared, and considering they were in the middle of empty space he could have hardly collided with anything, he considered over Lorharn's worry.

"Grant, talk to me. What the hell is wrong with you? Give me status report ASAP!" Sgt Lorharn was used to make commands, so much that even his civil talk was practically shouted, as if he needed to be heard over the 1.2 km of space between him and Grant. Even when asking if Grant was OK he was yelling at him. He was used to it. They all were, all seven of Wraith Squadron Juliet India.
"I'm fine, Sarge" Grant replied." India Alpha, this is India Echo, proceeding with status report." He continued, although he heard his voice was still trembling. "All major systems functional, thrust, weapons, shields, life support, fuel, engine. Currently travelling at medium patrol speed, 182 km/h, patrolling medium rim, estimated time of arrival at turn point 22 minutes. Home base call sign is Tango Juliet. No enemy contact."

"I wasn't asking for your ship, I was asking for you" was the sergeant's quick reply.
"I'm fine sarge, seriously." Damn it, stop trembling. "It was nothing, I just dozed of. Not enough sleep."

That's what he said last time

"That's what you said last time"

In his head, the sergeant sounded really worried. Not often that happened. But no wonder. He didn't know if he had screamed in his cockpit like he had screamed in the dream. If it really had been a dream. He wasn't sure. Not anymore.

That's the third time he has done this…
He looks pale, I wonder what he…
Something is wrong…
I'll show him not enough sleep…
And if that happens then…
We'll just have to…
"Seriously guys, I'm fine" he burst out. "Stop worrying so much"

The voices of his squad members still echoed in his head, but now they were reduced to a mere murmur. He tried to shut them out. He had always shut them out, and gotten used to it. But the nightmares had begun a mere month ago, and since then he had passed out like this twice on missions. Wrong, thrice. Johnson's voice corrected him. He set on autopilot again and buried his face in his palms. It had been so real: The darkness, the staring eyes, the pain, the screams… it hadn't been a dream. He had really been there. His mind had really been there.
He felt like he wanted to sob. Why him, he had asked himself so many times? Why did he have to have these murmuring voices in his head, these powers, what he could do…

He remembered when he was fifteen and it had begun. He read the test answers out of his classmates head. He challenged them and beat them in poker. He played soccer goalkeeper and reacted so fast that he could catch any ball, if it so was kicked from a meter before him. But then he realised that he had to keep it a secret, no one could know. He had heard the stories. What happened to those who could do what he did. They took you away and planted things in your head and body and then you belonged to them, body, mind and soul. Forever. You did not even remember who you used to be, they said.

So no one knew. And no one could know. That's what he had told himself all these years, and it had worked, and no one had suspected anything, besides that he had an uncanny knack for never losing money on poker. But now…
Something had happened, he knew it. When those eyes had found him something had happened. Something had found him.
He shivered. His hands and face were cold from evaporating sweat.

"Grant, come in. This is Tobin. Is there something you want to tell me?"
Tobin was on a separate channel. He didn't want the others to hear. But he could not tell him. He could not tell anyone.
"I appreciate your concern, Tobin, I really do, but right now I just want to complete the mission. It'll be fine.

Tobin did not answer. He seemed content with the answer, but the silence told that he was still worried. Grant and the rest of the squad remained quiet for the rest of the patrol, but in the back of his head Grant could still hear them. As he had always heard them, but now something else was there. A feeling that something far out there had seen him, and begun to stir. And Grant had learned to rely on his feelings.