My name is Dark-Elk, as you may already know. This story is set in the
future, and was written originally about death, but evolved into a story
about a Zealot.and a Dragoon, being the unit that can escape death. So,
here it is. I don't think I have any unique characters in here, so all I
really have to say is that Starcraft is property of Blizzard Entertainment.
Half Machine, All Warrior
Part 1: The Remembering
By: Dark-Elk
Death is something you never really forget. It is a completely unique experience. Like many Terran stories suggest, your life does indeed play itself out before your eyes. Friends, family, comrades, enemies.all can be seen once again, before death claims you. Death is a final experience; the last great, unexplored frontier. And the most unique thing about death is that it can only be experienced once.
At least, for the Terrans, that is. For a Protoss warrior, on the other hand, death is merely a failure upon the path of the Khalai, and the beginning of a new path, a path of rebirth, of strength previously unimagined. Death for a Protoss Zealot, in short, means reincarnation. Reborn.as a Dragoon.
Having never died, you can probably not even imagine the process. Dying, whether of age, disease, or in glorious battle, is the final experience in one portion of your life. After actually dying, your spirit floats in the nether realms of the universe. If you are Terran, or most other species, there is where your spirit remains for eternity and beyond. If, however, you happen to be a Protoss, death is merely the transition between two legs and four.
I can remember my own death quite clearly. One of the numerous, ineffectual assaults upon the Terran Dominion, headed by the son of its creator, Domis Mengsk was the backdrop of my demise. Domis Mengsk, unlike his father, has no tactical ability to speak of. His strategies are almost Zerg-like in nature, involving massive amounts of troops flung haphazardly at a target, in a desperate attempt to overwhelm his opponent. He used this strategy during his attack upon our fortified base on the planet Sena. It should have been an easy rout of his troops; our Reavers had been deployed fully, and our troops were outfitted with the latest technological advances. We had ground, air, and space superiority in every way, shape and manner. His troops would have been slaughtered on the spot.
Then the Hybrids attacked. Specific details are still incomplete, at best. The closest anyone, Protoss or Terran can come, is that a single Hybrid warship entered the area. Not a particularly large cruiser, and certainly not unremarkable in visible power. Our commander knew different. This was one of the most feared Hybrid ships: the Hybrid Chrysalide. A Chrysalide is extraordinarily strong. Plainly put, one has never been significantly damaged, and certainly never near destruction.
An Observor once relayed a transmission from its hidden vantage point near a major Zerg base A Chrysalide had entered the vicinity near a Zerg held planet, right in the epicenter of a massive amount of Scourges. Scourges! Some of the foulest Zerg ever hatched, to be sure. Every single Scourge rammed the Chrysalide in unison in a massive protonic explosion. Body parts and fluids floated throughout the area of space randomly. Finally, after many minutes, the remains cleared enough, and the Chrysalide could be seen again! The Observor had calculated out on-screen, in plain "black and white" as Terrans put it, the approximate number of Scourge hits that were registered.
The New Conclave remained, frozen completely to their chairs, all hopes for victory over the Hybrids totally extinguished. The Chrysalide had taken over 700 direct Scourge hits, and there was no visible damage to the Chrysalide, not even cosmetic! The New Conclave made an instantaneous, unilateral decision later that day. All contact with the Hybrids was to be avoided at all costs. The decision, however, was not completely inspired by the durability of the Chrysalide. Far more horrific was what happened next.
The Chrysalide began moving away from the skirmish zone. All Zerg aerial units seemed to be vectoring towards the Chrysalide, and literally propelling themselves at it, in a desperate attempt to halt its progress. The attempts were to no avail, as the Chysalide continued to close the distance between itself and the Zerg held planet of Talasha. It slowly came to a stop within a fair distance of the planet, and remained. The Zerg continued their reckless assault, and the results were still the same. Then the Observor began registering anomalous energy readings near the Chrysalide, and near Talasha.
Slowly, but steadily, the readings grew in strength. Finally, the Observor managed to manuver enough to relay the situation: the Chrysalide had somehow created a worm hole right next to the planet, and the planet was slowly being devoured. Massive droves of Overlords, fully loaded with all the ground forces transportable fled the planet. But the Chrysalide was not yet finished.
Lances of energy began streaking out from the Chrysalide towards the Overlords and few remaining aerial units. On contact with these, the Overlords exploded, silently spewing forth their cargo. The air units merely exploded, having nothing of value for the Hybrids. The energy beams ceased firing, and other, smaller bolts were fired. The Observor registered these as stun blasts, strong enough to paralyze any Zerg ground unit that may have been rescued. Every ground unit was struck, and ceased their frantic struggling.
And then the most horrific aspect of the Hybrid attack began: reclamation. Hybrid Reaper units began exiting the Chrysalide, and adeptly manuvering near the paralyzed bodies. They fired genetic probes into the flesh of every single Zerg unit that had been saved, programmed to do only two things: first, to collect a genetic sample of the unit and transmit it to the Chrysalide, and second, to detonate on command. The Reapers finished their grisly task, and the paralysis began to deteriorate in strength rapidly. The Reapers entered the hold of the Chrysalide. Then the probes were activated. The screen was completely blanked out with the anti-matter flash, and when they compensation for brightness finally activated, the entire Zerg horde, the Chrysalide, and the planet Talasha were gone.
Not even our most intelligent scientists can postulate anything pertaining to the Hybrids, not how they teleported themselves into the area, not how they survived the staggering amount of damage, and certainly not how they created a wormhole. The fact is that the Hybrids are an indomitable force. Their ground forces can be downed, but only after similarly taking extreme damage.
An in-depth look at the Hybrid units is a foul task, seeing the cruel genetic manipulation used. Quite simply, everything of theirs, their units, their technology, everything, comes from somewhere else. Their lowest level ground units, for instance, seem to be simple combinations between Zerg and Protoss units, while their higher level units, far more stronger psionicly, are combinations of Terran and Protoss units that wield arcane, impossibly strong powers. For that matter, everything about the Hybrids is unknown, and unknowable. From their lowest ground force to their strongest star cruisers, they have powers that neither Protoss nor Terran can imagine. The most impossible power that every Hybrid possesses, is instantaneous teleportation. Although the Protoss Arbiter, with its Judicator pilots can teleport other units, each Hybrid unit can teleport itself anywhere in the galaxy. This power is what makes the Hybrids a near- invincible force. After all, what is the point of building an extensive defensive array when the Hybrid ground forces can teleport themselves right next to the Nexus and destroy all the robotic Probes working there?
The Chrysalide had entered the battle area. Our commander ordered a retreat of all forces almost instantly. Domis Mengsk didn't seem to register the Hybrid ship as a threat, but instead decided to pursue the fleeing Protoss starships, intent upon slaughtering them dishonorably. A full dozen Scouts were lost to the ravenous Wraith packs, and then the remainder reached the Carriers. The Wraiths warily regrouped, and then surged towards the Carriers. That area of space was impossibly bright for the next few moments, but when it cleared enough to be visible, the massive Carriers were all destroyed.
A disparate cry went up from the ground troops, and I soon added my psychic "voice". With the Carriers gone, there was little to stop the Battlecruisers from destroying our base at long range. All hopes of victory lost, we resigned ourselves to death, knowing it would come, and the only difference would be whether from the hands of the Terrans, or the Hybrids. The question was quickly answered.
The Hybrid ship chose that moment to attack, and began pulsating with massive beams of energy surrounding it. Arcs of energy sped towards random targets, and all that struck instantly destroyed their target. The full pack of Wraiths was lost almost instantaneously. Then massive explosions shook the ground, as the Battlecruisers succumbed to the energy blasts. The Terrans managed one final act of defiance, an EMP burst launched at the Chrysalide. The Hybrid craft wheeled towards the Science Vessel, and created a wormhole near it, sucking it into oblivion, towards destinations unknown.
Our forces watched the slaughter, the hatred of the Hybrids rising once again. Anything that could kill that quickly, that effectively must be evil. Then the most surprising event happened. The Terran ground commander offered our base a temporary alliance. Logic prevailed, and we reluctantly accepted, prepared for the inevitable backstab. The Terran commander began transporting every iota of his forces to our base, and quickly reached our perimeter. We let him and his forces in, and soon realized he wasn't planning to turn against us. He truly needed our help, and was honorable. Siege Tanks were positioned around the perimeter, and Bunkers were hastily constructed wherever space was provided. Soon every Marine, Firebat and Medic was part of the defense.
Then the Hybrid attack began. One of the largest attack forces we had ever witnessed appeared to the south of us. It consisted of a total of two- dozen units. They quickly began closing towards our defense. They appeared to have forsaken the tactic of destroying the base from the inside, and instead wished to crush us from outside.
Suddenly, the Siege Tanks began thundering, massive shells fired at distant, nearly invisible targets. Many of them seemed to strike, but the strike force continued on. They closed within range of the Marines, and shells began littering the floors of Bunkers as they set their Gauss Rifles to full-auto. The strike force continued. Finally, they reached the Protoss section of the defense, and the Photon Cannon began discharging their globes of energy. The Hybrids all disappeared simultaneously. There was a deathly silence, as all that had began firing stopped, almost in unison. Then there was a number of screams, both psionically and verbally. We searched, and found that the Hybrids had teleported inside the base. Their proximity to the Siege Tanks made firing impossible, and the Siege Tanks were quickly destroyed. Our High Templar began climbing to higher ground to began Psionic Storms, and our Dark Templar began stalking towards the Hybrids. I gave the order, and I along with the rest of our Zealot forces rushed into battle. We slashed at the Hybrids in a fury, and managed to land some hits upon them, when they turned from attacking the Siege Tanks, and attacked us instead.
You cannot even imagine the slaughter. The Hybrids began creating energy webs around Zealots, and constricting them, slicing the Zealots literally to shreds. I was flung backwards with a psionic blast, and struck the ignited blade of another Zealot. I could feel it tear through my armor, and puncture my skin, and stop right after piercing my lung. My breathing instantly became labored, as I struggled to gain precious oxygen. Terrans have a distinct advantage with two lungs. Protoss, however, have but one.
The Zealot behind me shook me free of his blade, and I fell to the ground in a heap. He knelt beside me, and offered his apologies. I told him, amidst gasps of breath that he was not to blame. He nodded, and stood. He strode forward, towards the line of Hybrids. I watched intently, as he pinpointed one Hybrid, and dove through the air nimbly, and sliced its head off. I congratulated him, for after all even in death his slaying of a Hybrid impressed me. I have never seen one die, and I watched as the Hybrid body collapsed to the ground. The body twitched slightly, and then stilled. My comrade turned away, and searched out another.
Then the body of the Hybrid detonated. Shards of superheated carapace and armor sliced through everything in the radius immediate to the corpse, killing the remainder of the Zealots actively fighting, save one. My comrade managed to evade the blast, but the other Hybrids had noted who had killed their compatriot, and encircled him. One caught him in an energy web, but left him there, suspended in the air, struggling desperately for life. A sadistic laugh ran through the Hybrids. They began to create blades of pure energy in front of them. Once they had all created them, they set to work upon my comrade. I never once averted my eyes in honor of him, and my comrade never once screamed in pain. They peeled off his skin, revealing ligaments and muscles. Then they began to hack off parts of his extremities, his fingers being the first to go. Finally, they sliced him in half through the abdomen, ending his torture. I silently wept throughout, for although I knew he had died a heroic death, he had still died by one of the most painful methods I could imagine.
The Hybrids fanned out, and quickly decimated the remainder of the base, turning the structures into rubble. Then they sent out the genetic probes, to collect our genetic makeup. It wasn't enough for them to slaughter us. They had to kill us, and then clone us to serve them. I have always been infuriated by this practice, and when the probe came alongside my body, I sliced it in half with my Psi Blade.
I lay on the ground for a long time. The Hybrids left shortly after the probes detonated, off to raze another planet to dust. I remember very little of that time, most of which was spent staring at the sky, and lamenting over the loss of my life. I knew my end was near, and with no Protoss near enough to collect my remains, I was in the most deepest despair possible. My powered armor, recently outfitted with survival upgrades, nourished my body intravenously, although I was slowly dieing, and breathing was still a hard task.
Then I felt a powerful mental presence inside my mind, and although I had never felt it before, I knew what it was. A Shuttle had arrived, and was searching for bodies of Zealots. I mentally hailed the Shuttle, and it sped towards me. It landed nearby, and two Protoss technicians exited the craft. They asked me what had happened, and I gave them a quick synopsis. I asked them to remove the remains of my comrade, but when they examined them found his cerebral tissue to still be active. Apparently his suit had somehow saved him from death. I rejoiced, knowing that the most valiant warrior I had ever seen would soon fight again.
The technicians returned, and quickly told me their findings. There were no other living beings on the planet, save my comrade and me. And with my death imminent, it would soon be even less. They asked me what they should do.
I lay, thinking of everything possible. Finally, I ordered them to place my comrade and me in Dragoon exoskeletons. They nodded, having expected this. Most Protoss warriors choose this, to continue to serve the memory of Auir. They huddled towards me, and injected something into my arm. The world went became blurred, and slowly faded into tunnel vision, and finally into blackness.
Half Machine, All Warrior
Part 1: The Remembering
By: Dark-Elk
Death is something you never really forget. It is a completely unique experience. Like many Terran stories suggest, your life does indeed play itself out before your eyes. Friends, family, comrades, enemies.all can be seen once again, before death claims you. Death is a final experience; the last great, unexplored frontier. And the most unique thing about death is that it can only be experienced once.
At least, for the Terrans, that is. For a Protoss warrior, on the other hand, death is merely a failure upon the path of the Khalai, and the beginning of a new path, a path of rebirth, of strength previously unimagined. Death for a Protoss Zealot, in short, means reincarnation. Reborn.as a Dragoon.
Having never died, you can probably not even imagine the process. Dying, whether of age, disease, or in glorious battle, is the final experience in one portion of your life. After actually dying, your spirit floats in the nether realms of the universe. If you are Terran, or most other species, there is where your spirit remains for eternity and beyond. If, however, you happen to be a Protoss, death is merely the transition between two legs and four.
I can remember my own death quite clearly. One of the numerous, ineffectual assaults upon the Terran Dominion, headed by the son of its creator, Domis Mengsk was the backdrop of my demise. Domis Mengsk, unlike his father, has no tactical ability to speak of. His strategies are almost Zerg-like in nature, involving massive amounts of troops flung haphazardly at a target, in a desperate attempt to overwhelm his opponent. He used this strategy during his attack upon our fortified base on the planet Sena. It should have been an easy rout of his troops; our Reavers had been deployed fully, and our troops were outfitted with the latest technological advances. We had ground, air, and space superiority in every way, shape and manner. His troops would have been slaughtered on the spot.
Then the Hybrids attacked. Specific details are still incomplete, at best. The closest anyone, Protoss or Terran can come, is that a single Hybrid warship entered the area. Not a particularly large cruiser, and certainly not unremarkable in visible power. Our commander knew different. This was one of the most feared Hybrid ships: the Hybrid Chrysalide. A Chrysalide is extraordinarily strong. Plainly put, one has never been significantly damaged, and certainly never near destruction.
An Observor once relayed a transmission from its hidden vantage point near a major Zerg base A Chrysalide had entered the vicinity near a Zerg held planet, right in the epicenter of a massive amount of Scourges. Scourges! Some of the foulest Zerg ever hatched, to be sure. Every single Scourge rammed the Chrysalide in unison in a massive protonic explosion. Body parts and fluids floated throughout the area of space randomly. Finally, after many minutes, the remains cleared enough, and the Chrysalide could be seen again! The Observor had calculated out on-screen, in plain "black and white" as Terrans put it, the approximate number of Scourge hits that were registered.
The New Conclave remained, frozen completely to their chairs, all hopes for victory over the Hybrids totally extinguished. The Chrysalide had taken over 700 direct Scourge hits, and there was no visible damage to the Chrysalide, not even cosmetic! The New Conclave made an instantaneous, unilateral decision later that day. All contact with the Hybrids was to be avoided at all costs. The decision, however, was not completely inspired by the durability of the Chrysalide. Far more horrific was what happened next.
The Chrysalide began moving away from the skirmish zone. All Zerg aerial units seemed to be vectoring towards the Chrysalide, and literally propelling themselves at it, in a desperate attempt to halt its progress. The attempts were to no avail, as the Chysalide continued to close the distance between itself and the Zerg held planet of Talasha. It slowly came to a stop within a fair distance of the planet, and remained. The Zerg continued their reckless assault, and the results were still the same. Then the Observor began registering anomalous energy readings near the Chrysalide, and near Talasha.
Slowly, but steadily, the readings grew in strength. Finally, the Observor managed to manuver enough to relay the situation: the Chrysalide had somehow created a worm hole right next to the planet, and the planet was slowly being devoured. Massive droves of Overlords, fully loaded with all the ground forces transportable fled the planet. But the Chrysalide was not yet finished.
Lances of energy began streaking out from the Chrysalide towards the Overlords and few remaining aerial units. On contact with these, the Overlords exploded, silently spewing forth their cargo. The air units merely exploded, having nothing of value for the Hybrids. The energy beams ceased firing, and other, smaller bolts were fired. The Observor registered these as stun blasts, strong enough to paralyze any Zerg ground unit that may have been rescued. Every ground unit was struck, and ceased their frantic struggling.
And then the most horrific aspect of the Hybrid attack began: reclamation. Hybrid Reaper units began exiting the Chrysalide, and adeptly manuvering near the paralyzed bodies. They fired genetic probes into the flesh of every single Zerg unit that had been saved, programmed to do only two things: first, to collect a genetic sample of the unit and transmit it to the Chrysalide, and second, to detonate on command. The Reapers finished their grisly task, and the paralysis began to deteriorate in strength rapidly. The Reapers entered the hold of the Chrysalide. Then the probes were activated. The screen was completely blanked out with the anti-matter flash, and when they compensation for brightness finally activated, the entire Zerg horde, the Chrysalide, and the planet Talasha were gone.
Not even our most intelligent scientists can postulate anything pertaining to the Hybrids, not how they teleported themselves into the area, not how they survived the staggering amount of damage, and certainly not how they created a wormhole. The fact is that the Hybrids are an indomitable force. Their ground forces can be downed, but only after similarly taking extreme damage.
An in-depth look at the Hybrid units is a foul task, seeing the cruel genetic manipulation used. Quite simply, everything of theirs, their units, their technology, everything, comes from somewhere else. Their lowest level ground units, for instance, seem to be simple combinations between Zerg and Protoss units, while their higher level units, far more stronger psionicly, are combinations of Terran and Protoss units that wield arcane, impossibly strong powers. For that matter, everything about the Hybrids is unknown, and unknowable. From their lowest ground force to their strongest star cruisers, they have powers that neither Protoss nor Terran can imagine. The most impossible power that every Hybrid possesses, is instantaneous teleportation. Although the Protoss Arbiter, with its Judicator pilots can teleport other units, each Hybrid unit can teleport itself anywhere in the galaxy. This power is what makes the Hybrids a near- invincible force. After all, what is the point of building an extensive defensive array when the Hybrid ground forces can teleport themselves right next to the Nexus and destroy all the robotic Probes working there?
The Chrysalide had entered the battle area. Our commander ordered a retreat of all forces almost instantly. Domis Mengsk didn't seem to register the Hybrid ship as a threat, but instead decided to pursue the fleeing Protoss starships, intent upon slaughtering them dishonorably. A full dozen Scouts were lost to the ravenous Wraith packs, and then the remainder reached the Carriers. The Wraiths warily regrouped, and then surged towards the Carriers. That area of space was impossibly bright for the next few moments, but when it cleared enough to be visible, the massive Carriers were all destroyed.
A disparate cry went up from the ground troops, and I soon added my psychic "voice". With the Carriers gone, there was little to stop the Battlecruisers from destroying our base at long range. All hopes of victory lost, we resigned ourselves to death, knowing it would come, and the only difference would be whether from the hands of the Terrans, or the Hybrids. The question was quickly answered.
The Hybrid ship chose that moment to attack, and began pulsating with massive beams of energy surrounding it. Arcs of energy sped towards random targets, and all that struck instantly destroyed their target. The full pack of Wraiths was lost almost instantaneously. Then massive explosions shook the ground, as the Battlecruisers succumbed to the energy blasts. The Terrans managed one final act of defiance, an EMP burst launched at the Chrysalide. The Hybrid craft wheeled towards the Science Vessel, and created a wormhole near it, sucking it into oblivion, towards destinations unknown.
Our forces watched the slaughter, the hatred of the Hybrids rising once again. Anything that could kill that quickly, that effectively must be evil. Then the most surprising event happened. The Terran ground commander offered our base a temporary alliance. Logic prevailed, and we reluctantly accepted, prepared for the inevitable backstab. The Terran commander began transporting every iota of his forces to our base, and quickly reached our perimeter. We let him and his forces in, and soon realized he wasn't planning to turn against us. He truly needed our help, and was honorable. Siege Tanks were positioned around the perimeter, and Bunkers were hastily constructed wherever space was provided. Soon every Marine, Firebat and Medic was part of the defense.
Then the Hybrid attack began. One of the largest attack forces we had ever witnessed appeared to the south of us. It consisted of a total of two- dozen units. They quickly began closing towards our defense. They appeared to have forsaken the tactic of destroying the base from the inside, and instead wished to crush us from outside.
Suddenly, the Siege Tanks began thundering, massive shells fired at distant, nearly invisible targets. Many of them seemed to strike, but the strike force continued on. They closed within range of the Marines, and shells began littering the floors of Bunkers as they set their Gauss Rifles to full-auto. The strike force continued. Finally, they reached the Protoss section of the defense, and the Photon Cannon began discharging their globes of energy. The Hybrids all disappeared simultaneously. There was a deathly silence, as all that had began firing stopped, almost in unison. Then there was a number of screams, both psionically and verbally. We searched, and found that the Hybrids had teleported inside the base. Their proximity to the Siege Tanks made firing impossible, and the Siege Tanks were quickly destroyed. Our High Templar began climbing to higher ground to began Psionic Storms, and our Dark Templar began stalking towards the Hybrids. I gave the order, and I along with the rest of our Zealot forces rushed into battle. We slashed at the Hybrids in a fury, and managed to land some hits upon them, when they turned from attacking the Siege Tanks, and attacked us instead.
You cannot even imagine the slaughter. The Hybrids began creating energy webs around Zealots, and constricting them, slicing the Zealots literally to shreds. I was flung backwards with a psionic blast, and struck the ignited blade of another Zealot. I could feel it tear through my armor, and puncture my skin, and stop right after piercing my lung. My breathing instantly became labored, as I struggled to gain precious oxygen. Terrans have a distinct advantage with two lungs. Protoss, however, have but one.
The Zealot behind me shook me free of his blade, and I fell to the ground in a heap. He knelt beside me, and offered his apologies. I told him, amidst gasps of breath that he was not to blame. He nodded, and stood. He strode forward, towards the line of Hybrids. I watched intently, as he pinpointed one Hybrid, and dove through the air nimbly, and sliced its head off. I congratulated him, for after all even in death his slaying of a Hybrid impressed me. I have never seen one die, and I watched as the Hybrid body collapsed to the ground. The body twitched slightly, and then stilled. My comrade turned away, and searched out another.
Then the body of the Hybrid detonated. Shards of superheated carapace and armor sliced through everything in the radius immediate to the corpse, killing the remainder of the Zealots actively fighting, save one. My comrade managed to evade the blast, but the other Hybrids had noted who had killed their compatriot, and encircled him. One caught him in an energy web, but left him there, suspended in the air, struggling desperately for life. A sadistic laugh ran through the Hybrids. They began to create blades of pure energy in front of them. Once they had all created them, they set to work upon my comrade. I never once averted my eyes in honor of him, and my comrade never once screamed in pain. They peeled off his skin, revealing ligaments and muscles. Then they began to hack off parts of his extremities, his fingers being the first to go. Finally, they sliced him in half through the abdomen, ending his torture. I silently wept throughout, for although I knew he had died a heroic death, he had still died by one of the most painful methods I could imagine.
The Hybrids fanned out, and quickly decimated the remainder of the base, turning the structures into rubble. Then they sent out the genetic probes, to collect our genetic makeup. It wasn't enough for them to slaughter us. They had to kill us, and then clone us to serve them. I have always been infuriated by this practice, and when the probe came alongside my body, I sliced it in half with my Psi Blade.
I lay on the ground for a long time. The Hybrids left shortly after the probes detonated, off to raze another planet to dust. I remember very little of that time, most of which was spent staring at the sky, and lamenting over the loss of my life. I knew my end was near, and with no Protoss near enough to collect my remains, I was in the most deepest despair possible. My powered armor, recently outfitted with survival upgrades, nourished my body intravenously, although I was slowly dieing, and breathing was still a hard task.
Then I felt a powerful mental presence inside my mind, and although I had never felt it before, I knew what it was. A Shuttle had arrived, and was searching for bodies of Zealots. I mentally hailed the Shuttle, and it sped towards me. It landed nearby, and two Protoss technicians exited the craft. They asked me what had happened, and I gave them a quick synopsis. I asked them to remove the remains of my comrade, but when they examined them found his cerebral tissue to still be active. Apparently his suit had somehow saved him from death. I rejoiced, knowing that the most valiant warrior I had ever seen would soon fight again.
The technicians returned, and quickly told me their findings. There were no other living beings on the planet, save my comrade and me. And with my death imminent, it would soon be even less. They asked me what they should do.
I lay, thinking of everything possible. Finally, I ordered them to place my comrade and me in Dragoon exoskeletons. They nodded, having expected this. Most Protoss warriors choose this, to continue to serve the memory of Auir. They huddled towards me, and injected something into my arm. The world went became blurred, and slowly faded into tunnel vision, and finally into blackness.