Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is StarCraft. Heck, I barely own
anything! All names created by Blizzard, all products, and almost
everything in here is owned be Blizzard. Several new names, created by me,
however, are my creations, and I would appreciate it if you would ask for
my permission to use them. The events depicted in this are completely
fictional (Like AOL's quality service), and any similarities to other
stories are completely coincidental. This story does not, in any way,
change the StarCraft continuity. Thank you, and good day.
1 Notes: The Executor in this, Nagol, is the executor, the one you play as when you… uh, play the game of StarCraft. His Commande Carrier, the Suloea was the name of of the ship another one of my characters commanded from, Prefect Kellix. However, I decided that I wasn't going to do much with him, so I shifted the name over to be the flagship of the Protoss Khalai forces. Oh, and when I type "Khalai", I do not mean the worker class in Protoss society. Rather, I use it to distinguish the main part of the Protoss from the Dark Templar. If they live on Aiur and follow the Khala, they are of the Khalai society. If not, they are Dark Templar. Got it?
2 One last note: this story is post-BroodWar. I really don't know how far after it, but it is several years.
Starcraft
Ii
Insurgence
2.1 Prologue
A disease. Yes, that was what they were, a plague. Once contracted, death was not a possibility, it was an inevitability.
Despite the fact they killed others to further their own goals, it was hard to believe that such things could live; a virus. They spread from world to world; cell to cell. There, they reproduced and sapped the planet of all its natural resources; necropsy of the cell. If they came into contact with a worthy opponent, they merely assimilated them into themselves; illness. If they could not be stopped, they would eventually infect the entire galaxy; death of the host body.
They were the Zerg.
We were the antibodies, fighting at every turn, but we were losing this war. The only way to beat them was to find a cure. As of yet, there was none.
We are the Protoss and Terrans. We are the vanguard of this galaxy, and, perhaps, of all life, all existence.
Zerg Empire border world Krey-shtar
Protoss Command Carrier Suloea
Krey-shtar. Like many of the worlds in the Koprulu Sector it was mostly a barren wasteland. Volcanically active, the planet was the size of a large moon, yet orbited no body. It was theorized that it was once a satellite, and its mother planet was crushed, forming the small asteroid ring around the system's prime.
To the Zerg, it was one of the many out-of-the-way planets, devoid of life that would further the species' collective goal of perfect evolution. To the Protoss and Terrans, it was a planet from which they could extract precious minerals to feed their pathetic war machines. To the Protoss and Terrans, it was imperative that this world be conquered.
Pulses of energy lit the dark red sky, which were directed at blood- maddened monstrosities; large, mostly insect creatures. Alone, each one would personify a mindless creature driven to kill any and all life. In large swarms, such as this, the seemed to maintain a hive mind, strategically directed by an unseen hand. These creatures had thus reigned over nearly an eighth of the Galaxy.
Small, gold Protoss aircraft blanketed the ground with death, clearing a way for their ground troops. The Protoss forces, in turn, were battered and worn. Despite the fact that the Protoss were the most technologically advanced species in the known Galaxy, the sheer numbers of the enemy was slowly overrunning their fleet.
Up above the chaos on the ground, a large, blue, triangular vessel opened up some of its smaller weapons with energy that could not be overcome. Several Zerg fliers either fell to the ground or were destroyed out right, as plasma ate away at their bodies.
Finally, a gold shuttle maneuvered its way between enemy and friendly fire and neared the ground. The vehicle's underside opened, and disgorged its cargo of Protoss warriors. They dropped from the underside hatch down into the ravages below, and fought to clear away land beneath the shuttle. After what seemed to be millennia, a large machine was lowered to the ground by the shuttle's tractor beams. It resembled a caterpillar from the Terran home world of old. The machine's appearances belied its true nature. The Zerg in this area would soon be no more.
Executor Nagol stood aboard the Command Carrier Suloea, observing his crew as they did their best to direct the fire from the ship and the seeming madness below. He was the commander of all the Protoss Khalai warriors, and this was but one of the countless battles he had to wage against the Zerg. He was in his mid 400s, and hailed from the Velari tribe from his home world of Aiur. He wore the enhanced Hostile Encounter battle suit of a Zealot warrior. Although he was proficient in the art of Psionic warfare, he still preferred the personal, one-on-one battles, much like his now-late comrade Praetor Fenix.
"Executor."
Nagol turned his head to the right to see a young Protoss acolyte, obviously Khalai caste. No matter what caste in Protoss society you were from, it was almost inevitable to be trained in the ways of a Templar warrior, even if you weren't going to be sent to the front lines in this terrible war.
"Executor," the young Protoss repeated, "a shuttle has succeeded in penetrating the Zerg aerial defences and has landed several Reaver automatons. We expect the Zerg forces to break at any time…" The Khalai paused, and glanced down at the data pad that he held in his right hand. "Several more shuttles have landed. Once we establish a base here, this planet shall be ours."
Nagol grimaced at the acolyte's cockiness. "Do not underestimate these Zerg, young warrior," he reprimanded. "They can easily pull a victory from certain defeat. Indeed, however, I doubt that they will put up a good battle for such a backwater planet."
Nagol looked at a nearby display screen. It depicted several Protoss Scouts flying by, launching their remaining inventory of anti matter Pulse Missiles at a building that seemed to be alive. Indeed, everything that the Zerg had was alive.
The main Hive construct collapsed in on itself under the withering barrage. Zerg seen on the ground surrounding the Hive fled its death.
Nagol mentally sighed, then ordered an adjutant to convey an order of retreat.
"Executor," the acolyte at Nagol's side said, shock clearly detectable in his telepathic voice. "We need not retreat from this place. The Zerg are now small in number, and our forces can surly do away wi— "
"Acolyte," empathed the Executor firmly, but quietly, "you must do more research on our enemy."
It took all of the acolyte's strength from stepping back as Nagol tore his gaze from the view screen, his eyes producing a golden radiance as he stared at the younger one's ignorance.
"Have you not noticed that the Zerg, when their respective Hive is neutralized, begin to lose unity? In orbit, we can evade their mindless wrath and they will eventually destroy themselves. No more of our warriors need be killed this day." Nagol turned back towards the view screen brusquely. " You are dismissed."
The young Protoss bowed with exaggerated grace. "Adun toridos."
As the acolyte withdrew his presence from the bridge, Nagol turned to watch the receding figure. A sadness filled him. If that young one represented the once feared armies of the Protoss Empire, this war is already lost.
Notes from the author: This is my first fanfic ever, so please do not scald me too much with them flames. I can take them and use them to ignite a rocket that's pointed right in your face =P. How do you like dem apples?
This is merely the prologue to a much bigger story. If you have any questions, comments, observations, complaints, etc., please fill free to post them in the review. Criticism is welcome. I want to further refine my story and writing.
1 Notes: The Executor in this, Nagol, is the executor, the one you play as when you… uh, play the game of StarCraft. His Commande Carrier, the Suloea was the name of of the ship another one of my characters commanded from, Prefect Kellix. However, I decided that I wasn't going to do much with him, so I shifted the name over to be the flagship of the Protoss Khalai forces. Oh, and when I type "Khalai", I do not mean the worker class in Protoss society. Rather, I use it to distinguish the main part of the Protoss from the Dark Templar. If they live on Aiur and follow the Khala, they are of the Khalai society. If not, they are Dark Templar. Got it?
2 One last note: this story is post-BroodWar. I really don't know how far after it, but it is several years.
Starcraft
Ii
Insurgence
2.1 Prologue
A disease. Yes, that was what they were, a plague. Once contracted, death was not a possibility, it was an inevitability.
Despite the fact they killed others to further their own goals, it was hard to believe that such things could live; a virus. They spread from world to world; cell to cell. There, they reproduced and sapped the planet of all its natural resources; necropsy of the cell. If they came into contact with a worthy opponent, they merely assimilated them into themselves; illness. If they could not be stopped, they would eventually infect the entire galaxy; death of the host body.
They were the Zerg.
We were the antibodies, fighting at every turn, but we were losing this war. The only way to beat them was to find a cure. As of yet, there was none.
We are the Protoss and Terrans. We are the vanguard of this galaxy, and, perhaps, of all life, all existence.
Zerg Empire border world Krey-shtar
Protoss Command Carrier Suloea
Krey-shtar. Like many of the worlds in the Koprulu Sector it was mostly a barren wasteland. Volcanically active, the planet was the size of a large moon, yet orbited no body. It was theorized that it was once a satellite, and its mother planet was crushed, forming the small asteroid ring around the system's prime.
To the Zerg, it was one of the many out-of-the-way planets, devoid of life that would further the species' collective goal of perfect evolution. To the Protoss and Terrans, it was a planet from which they could extract precious minerals to feed their pathetic war machines. To the Protoss and Terrans, it was imperative that this world be conquered.
Pulses of energy lit the dark red sky, which were directed at blood- maddened monstrosities; large, mostly insect creatures. Alone, each one would personify a mindless creature driven to kill any and all life. In large swarms, such as this, the seemed to maintain a hive mind, strategically directed by an unseen hand. These creatures had thus reigned over nearly an eighth of the Galaxy.
Small, gold Protoss aircraft blanketed the ground with death, clearing a way for their ground troops. The Protoss forces, in turn, were battered and worn. Despite the fact that the Protoss were the most technologically advanced species in the known Galaxy, the sheer numbers of the enemy was slowly overrunning their fleet.
Up above the chaos on the ground, a large, blue, triangular vessel opened up some of its smaller weapons with energy that could not be overcome. Several Zerg fliers either fell to the ground or were destroyed out right, as plasma ate away at their bodies.
Finally, a gold shuttle maneuvered its way between enemy and friendly fire and neared the ground. The vehicle's underside opened, and disgorged its cargo of Protoss warriors. They dropped from the underside hatch down into the ravages below, and fought to clear away land beneath the shuttle. After what seemed to be millennia, a large machine was lowered to the ground by the shuttle's tractor beams. It resembled a caterpillar from the Terran home world of old. The machine's appearances belied its true nature. The Zerg in this area would soon be no more.
Executor Nagol stood aboard the Command Carrier Suloea, observing his crew as they did their best to direct the fire from the ship and the seeming madness below. He was the commander of all the Protoss Khalai warriors, and this was but one of the countless battles he had to wage against the Zerg. He was in his mid 400s, and hailed from the Velari tribe from his home world of Aiur. He wore the enhanced Hostile Encounter battle suit of a Zealot warrior. Although he was proficient in the art of Psionic warfare, he still preferred the personal, one-on-one battles, much like his now-late comrade Praetor Fenix.
"Executor."
Nagol turned his head to the right to see a young Protoss acolyte, obviously Khalai caste. No matter what caste in Protoss society you were from, it was almost inevitable to be trained in the ways of a Templar warrior, even if you weren't going to be sent to the front lines in this terrible war.
"Executor," the young Protoss repeated, "a shuttle has succeeded in penetrating the Zerg aerial defences and has landed several Reaver automatons. We expect the Zerg forces to break at any time…" The Khalai paused, and glanced down at the data pad that he held in his right hand. "Several more shuttles have landed. Once we establish a base here, this planet shall be ours."
Nagol grimaced at the acolyte's cockiness. "Do not underestimate these Zerg, young warrior," he reprimanded. "They can easily pull a victory from certain defeat. Indeed, however, I doubt that they will put up a good battle for such a backwater planet."
Nagol looked at a nearby display screen. It depicted several Protoss Scouts flying by, launching their remaining inventory of anti matter Pulse Missiles at a building that seemed to be alive. Indeed, everything that the Zerg had was alive.
The main Hive construct collapsed in on itself under the withering barrage. Zerg seen on the ground surrounding the Hive fled its death.
Nagol mentally sighed, then ordered an adjutant to convey an order of retreat.
"Executor," the acolyte at Nagol's side said, shock clearly detectable in his telepathic voice. "We need not retreat from this place. The Zerg are now small in number, and our forces can surly do away wi— "
"Acolyte," empathed the Executor firmly, but quietly, "you must do more research on our enemy."
It took all of the acolyte's strength from stepping back as Nagol tore his gaze from the view screen, his eyes producing a golden radiance as he stared at the younger one's ignorance.
"Have you not noticed that the Zerg, when their respective Hive is neutralized, begin to lose unity? In orbit, we can evade their mindless wrath and they will eventually destroy themselves. No more of our warriors need be killed this day." Nagol turned back towards the view screen brusquely. " You are dismissed."
The young Protoss bowed with exaggerated grace. "Adun toridos."
As the acolyte withdrew his presence from the bridge, Nagol turned to watch the receding figure. A sadness filled him. If that young one represented the once feared armies of the Protoss Empire, this war is already lost.
Notes from the author: This is my first fanfic ever, so please do not scald me too much with them flames. I can take them and use them to ignite a rocket that's pointed right in your face =P. How do you like dem apples?
This is merely the prologue to a much bigger story. If you have any questions, comments, observations, complaints, etc., please fill free to post them in the review. Criticism is welcome. I want to further refine my story and writing.