"Preator Talis- You have command of the adepts!"
For what felt like the thousandth time in this damnable war, Talis had once again been called to action. Her mind warped and stretched for a single uncomfortable moment as her processors adjusted to the shell she now inhabited- in addition to the dozen shells that would act as extensions of her being.
A constant flow of tactical information pierced through from her adept shells- sight, touch, sound, simulations for every conceivable move the enemy could make- all filtered and filed away as it reached her. To a biological mind it would be maddening, but the tactical data web allowed purifier constructs to compute at a rate far beyond anything else the protoss had ever produced. Talis often idly wondered, in moments where she had the spare processing power to do so, whether this was simply a byproduct of their digitized minds, or if it was an innate part of the creation process to endow her kindred with this altered mental state; the conclave certainly wouldn't have been above doing so. She suppose it didn't matter either way, it was brutally efficient and thus invaluable- particularly in dark days such as these.
Shocked out of idle thought by the detection of an encroaching threat through an observer positioned above the group, Talis and her adept shells took formation and leapt forwards. Launching a coordinated flurry of glave disks, the errant Mutalisk flock was shredded and fell to the ground in a pulpy, acidic mess. She let herself feel a moment of pride in vanquishing the disgusting interlopers that had so rudely interrupted her thoughts. It was promptly interrupted by her own bisection.
As her mind jumped to another of the shells in her squad, Talis chastised herself. She'd been lazy, distracted, and was now in a position to ruin the mission. She had immediately seen her folly, while focusing her processing power on the mutalisk flock, she hadn't seen the Broodlord tailing behind them, and it's vile parasites had hit her midsection so hard that the shell had simply split in half. Shells are expendable, and should she fail here completely her consciousness would simply be thrown back to cybros without any body to jump to- the Tal'darim forces she was protecting the flank of, however, would find death a much more permanent experience.
Left with no other option, she simply rushed toward the monstrous foe and her adepts, mindless extensions of her own body, fanned out behind her. Whatever spark of consciousness controlled the parasite-ridden zerg quickly realized her tactics, launching wave after wave of it's spawn at the charging squad and striking them down whenever it hit true. Whether it hit Talis herself or not was irrelevant, with the weak senses it possessed it couldn't tell which shell she inhabited, each shattered shell was one less threat.
Bounding over the shell that had housed her consciousness moments ago, Talis began to feel nervous. Her squad had been reduced to a trio, and their weaponry was ill equipped to pierce the armored exoskeleton of a Broodlord in the first place. An idea stirred within her- or was it a tactical simulation? It mattered little. It was a long shot, but without other recourse she diverted all the processing she had left to planning it. The math had to be perfect.
The dull senses of the Broodlord adapted to the change of tactics as quickly as could be expected. It barely perceived that one of the forms it was tracking had lagged behind, and had they not been so close it wouldn't have noticed the leading to raise their glave cannons above their heads, as if to shield themselves. Something primal and deep within the creature felt uneasy at this turn of events, but the consciousness that directed it either didn't feel the same, or didn't care. They are WEAK. They are POWERLESS. They SUBMIT. The beast couldn't comprehend it's words, but it understood the order. Another volley of parasites was launched, and another robotic foe fell in turn. Had it not been so focused on the enemy closer to it, perhaps it would've noticed the lagging adept pick up it's pace once again, charging right at it's compatriot.
Talis counted herself lucky that the beast was so brainless- or at least, it's master was inattentive. It didn't even seem to perceive her as there as she jumped on to the upheld glave cannon of her last remaining shell, a single shove launching her skyward. Later, thinking back, she liked to think it didn't notice her until her glave cannon was embedded into it's brain. She would also think that, perhaps, she would've liked to gloat over it's corpse. Had it not fallen from the sky and crushed her, that is.
As much as the conversation with the Tal'darim commander had been painful, explaining that his flank was now exposed but that all immediate threats had been taken care of, Talis had only half paid attention to his ranting. As she often did, and as was the upside of having a consciousness built to multitask, she let her mind wander back to herself- the biological self. Records indicated she had gone off to investigate disappearances shortly before the End War had broken out and never reported back. It was certain that she was out there, amongst the Dark God's stolen firstborn forces, and Talis often hoped to see herself on the battlefield. She had given little thought to what she would do if that happened, but she hoped it nonetheless.
As the raving ascendant closed the connection in a huff, Talis resolved to put some thought into what she'd do when her biological self finally appeared. Something would need to be done.
On the dying world of Atrias, buried beneath a pile of ancient stone, rests a slender form. It's golden cannon still embedded deeply within the skull of a crumpled abomination, a twisted perversion of the cycle that moulds reality itself.
No one will ever know of her sacrifice, her vital role in saving the future. There will be no recognition of Talis' heroism, as all those who witnessed it perished in turn. The surface of this desolate world will soon follow suit and crumble, destroying all evidence of what occured here.
But she will not be forgotten.