Walk Without Rhythm
A Starcraft: Elizabeth Story
By Violetlight
Disclaimer: Starcraft belongs to Blizzard Games, not me. But the characters Deekah, Dark Templar Drixis and others are mine, so don't use them without my permission. Special thanks to Dune by Frank Herbert for inspiring this fic and to "Weapon of Choice", a song by Fat Boy Slim for reminding me of Dune, which then inspired this fic!
This story takes place at the beginning of StarCraft: Broodwars, sometime before Protoss mission #2.
Author's Note: In the hopes of attracting more readership, (and I had to reformat anyway, stupid I'm reposting this story in four parts, instead of one big lump. Anyway, I hope you'll still enjoy it.
Part 1: Arrival
"Protoss Science Ship Aiur's Intuition reporting. This is Dark Templar Drixis, Praetor of this mission. We are now entering orbit around the desert world of Zz'gash, the homeworld of the Zz'gashi Dune Runners, a Probe-sized insectoid species believed to be the base species for the Zerg Zerglings. We have completed initial lifescans of the planet and were surprised to find Dune Runner lifesigns. It appears that the Zerg did not infest all of the creatures after all. We are proceeding to the surface to study the Dune Runners, and I'm certain that our…unique warrior will be an asset in our observations…"
"Gee, I'm so glad you think so."
"By studying the Dune Runners," Drixis continued, "we hope to achieve a better understanding of their behaviour, and through them, learn more about the Zerglings. This knowledge may save many Protoss lives in battle, ensuring that our warriors live for another day to bring glory to our race! Drixis out." Drixis turns off his comm station, and then turns towards me, his "unique warrior". "You like to make a habit of interrupting me, don't you?" he asks sarcastically.
"But of course! I have to make your pitiful life a little less boring, don't I?"
Drixis chuckles. I think. It's hard to tell with Protoss, whether they're laughing or not since they don't have mouths. You really have to look into their eyes to figure out what they're feeling, and even then it can be tricky, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. I should be, after all this time.
"Deekah, with you around, how can anything be boring?"
Hey, he's right about that! Who but a Zergling could lighten up this bunch of stiffs?
Sorry, am I confusing you? "What is a Zergling doing with a bunch of 'Toss?" you're wondering? Well, I could go into all the boring details about how I'm from a brood of self-thinking renegade Zerg led by our "Queen", an infested Terran named Elizabeth, how we were allied with a group of renegade Terrans (us rebels gotta stick together! That, and Liz and the Terran commander Drais were bumpin' each other like rabbits…what are rabbits anyway?) And I could tell you why I had to run from my brood for the stupidest of reasons (that Medic was asking for it), but then we'd be here all day, and we Zerglings aren't known for our sense of patience. Neither are you Terrans or 'Toss, well, maybe the Protoss, how else could they sit through those over-elaborate speeches they like to make…?
I'm getting off topic, aren't I?
Anyway, after running away, and dining on the oh-so elegant cuisine of Fillet de Rhynadon for a few weeks (Yuck! And you know it must be bad if a Zergling says "yuck"), the 'Toss picked me up, brought me to Shakuras, the Dark Templar's dark, twilighty world, and once I managed to convince their Council that no, I wasn't going to bring hordes of bloodthirsty Zerg to their poor little planet to chew off their arrogant faces, they said I could work for them. Well, it wasn't quite that easy, but you get the idea. Anyway, that's why I, a three-year old, female, Devouring One-class Zergling, am now working for the Protoss. That's what you need to know about it for this story, so be happy!
Drixis leaves me to go talk to some of the Scientists we're escorting to Zz'gash, so I take a look from my corner around the main bay of the Science Ship. It basically looks like a big Shuttle, only with a pilot (I think), room for a lot more than four Protoss at a time, and lots of cool-looking equipment scattered all over the place. One Scientist comes out of the rear room and starts to fiddle with the same comm. station Drixis was just using. He must be checking on the Observer robots following us, since they'll be doing most of the actual observing once we reach Zz'gash. The Scientists will probably just sit on their butts in the Observatory and watch whatever their little cloaked cameras in the sky happen to see. That's why it's so important that the Observers remain intact; Swarm forbid the Scientists would actually have to go outside and do their own observing! The Scientist finishes his work, and finally notices me. His eyes flash an alarmed yellow colour and I swear that his Shelak white scales have turned pinkish. He hurries back to the room where the other Scientists are hiding. It's always the same with Protoss Scientists; they're either terrified of me, or are so fascinated that they won't leave me alone!
I guess I am something of a terror to…what are they called again? The Protoss who don't fight…? Oh yeah! Civilians. After all, my species did turn the Protoss' homeworld, Aiur, into burning wasteland of death and destruction, but hey, I wasn't there, and I'm on their side! There's no reason for them to be scared of me. Anyway, I've heard some Terrans describe me as a "giant cockroach". I'm assuming that a cockroach is a Terran animal of great beauty, if it looks even remotely like a Zergling. I wonder if they too have beautiful, shiny, bright green carapaces like me, a long and elegant spiky tail, or two strong, back legs with wide, clawed feet, two slender, middle legs with three-fingered, clawed hands, or two front legs with long, killer scythe-like claws? Do they have a mouthful of fangs, or a fine-looking head shield extending over their necks to help them communicate with other cockroaches? I wonder…if I ever see any friendly Terrans again, I'll have to ask.
The Zealots sitting in the main bay with me smile to themselves, with that weird way Protoss have of smiling just with their eyes, at the Scientist's rather abrupt departure. I've been with these guys ever since I joined the Protoss forces, and they're used to me now, so seeing other Protoss' startled reactions at me is a joke to them. I get up, stretch, scratch, (my carapace gets itchy when I'm in space too long) and walk over to one of the Zealots, who is looking out the window.
"I cannot believe that we were sent to this dump," he complains. "We should be preparing ourselves for battle, not watching wildlife."
"I'm actually looking forward to our mission." I inform him. He grunts in annoyance. I try to ignore him. Zealots are Templar-in-training and to "prove themselves" they never want to do anything but fight, but if there's one thing I've learned from my sentience, it's that youdon't experience new things, don't learn, then your life isn't worth living. As I look out the window at the caramel-coloured planet below us, I do want to go down there, right away. I want to see my ancestors, the Dune Runners; see how they live on this barren world. I want to learn more about them…and about myself.
"Zz'gashi field report. We have arrived safely on the planet and have set up our base camp. Observers have been deployed, but despite the orbital scans, so far there have been no sightings of the Dune Runners."
There goes Drixis again, blabbing into his comm. computer. I don't know how he can stand it, making all those damn records, putting in every little detail. He should add in "oh, by the way, the sand is yellow and the sky's blue." Heh heh heh, that would get the Council's heads scratching.
We landed on Zz'gash with no problems, and have set up camp near a bunch of minerals and a Vespene gas geyser we found up on a rocky hill, which ends rather abruptly with some impressive cliffs. The view from the top is amazing, sand, sand and more sand. This place makes Korhal look like a Terran larva's toy sandbox! You wouldn't think when looking out over the endless seas of dunes that anything could live here, but life can exist in the strangest places. I've seen the one-eyed, reptilian Ragnasaurs crawl across the magma fields of Char, and small, furry animals living on the icy plains of Braxis. I, like other Zerg, can live just about anywhere, even on an asteroid or space platform, completely exposed to harsh radiation and other dangers of the Void. Even in the most unlikely places, Life will find a way.
As I look over this "barren" desert, gazing at the golden sand, the bright blue sky above, I feel like I've come home. This is the homeworld of the Dune Runners, my ancestors. They ran across this desert sea for aeons before the Overmind found this world and decided to incorporate them into the Swarm. I feel almost like I imagine I would feel if I could be with Phoenix Brood once more, back with my brother and sister Zerg, even back with our Terran allies…back with him. Deekah, stop thinking about that! You're not making it any easier…
Luckily, a group of idiot Zealots interrupted me before I could sink even further into my past. While looking out at the desert, I spotted them at the bottom of the cliffs, starting to walk out onto the sand. As I watched their wide, four-toed, bird-like feet carrying them effortlessly over the dunes, I could almost hear their footsteps echoing as they move through the sand, shift shift, shift shift, a grainy, but even beat. Shift shift, shift shift, it's like it's calling to me… SHIFT SHIFT, SHIFT SHIFT, NO! GET OFF THE SAND! GET OFF THE SAND NOW! I scramble down the rocky path to the bottom of the hill. I don't know why, but something just tells me the sand is dangerous! Don't walk on it with beating footsteps! Walk without rhythm…
"Get back here now! Your lives are in danger!" I call out to the Zealots. It's a good thing the translator built into my Protoss armour carries my voice such a way. They turn, and look at me, confused as to why I'm acting this way. They're not the only ones confused. I just don't know why I have this strong feeling to stay off the sand, all I know is that it's too strong to be ignored. I yell at them again to get back. They raise their brow ridges in confusion and go on; they must be too far away now; they can't hear me! Despite my instincts, I dash across the sand towards them, and grab the nearest Zealot's armoured forearm in my mouth, being careful not to bite him. "Come on, you've got to get out of here!" I mentally yell at him. I try to pull him back towards the rocks, but he shakes me loose.
"Zergling, why are you acting so strangely?" the Zealot questions me. "What is wrong?"
"I'm sorry to startle you, but you have to get off the sand now!"
"Why should we? We must explore this land to know our advantages should enemies arrive." The Zealot rebuts.
"Let the Observers do the exploring. I can't let you put your lives foolishly at risk. You want to die honourably in battle one day, not stupidly in an alien desert. Please listen to me!"
"Why are you walking like that?" another Zealot asks.
"Walking? What are you talking about? I'm walking normally."
"No, you are not. Your steps are very odd. Here, I will show you," the lead Zealot kneels down to me, lifts up the metal mask covering most of my face as part of my armour, and places his hand on my head, between my eyes. Protoss are very powerful telepaths and although this Zealot has nowhere near the power of a High or Dark Templar yet, he has enough to show me his thoughts. Suddenly, I'm seeing the world through the Zealot's eyes! My view from the tall Zealot is much higher than I'm used to, and I can see the other Zealots around him. He turns his head, and I see…myself, running across the desert towards them. I am running rather strangely. Instead of running evenly with my backlegs and forelegs, with my middle legs up in the air for balance like usual, my back feet and forefeet are hitting the ground unevenly, with random, unbalanced beats. Even my middle hands hit the ground at times, throwing off even this unusual beat of my footsteps.
The Zealot lets go of my head then, breaking the mental contact. "You're right," I tell him, "I was running strangely, and I didn't even know I was doing it."
"It must be a deeply embedded instinct for you to run that way on sand. Maybe you are right about the dangers of this world if this instinct of yours still exists, even after all the genetic changes the Zerg made to your race." the Zealot speculates. "This danger you sense must be a natural feature of Zz'gash; we cannot fight it. We will come with you back to the base."
"I think you're right about my instincts. Thank you for listening…um…"
"I am Nageer, a First Zealot of the Akilae tribe." he supplies.
"Well Nageer, just remember to walk without rhythm."
I start to lead the Zealots back towards the cliffs and I can't help but laugh to myself when I see the spectacle the Protoss are making of trying to walk unevenly on their long, bird-like legs. One throws himself off balance and falls, hitting the ground with a dull thud. A few others trip, but steady themselves in time. It must be very difficult to walk on two legs to begin with; to walk so oddly must be even more of a challenge. It's times like this that I'm so glad I have six legs.
Nageer seems to be having less trouble than the rest. After a few uneasy steps, he starts to get used to the offbeat and is soon striding confidently beside me. He looks at me with his glowing orange eyes for a minute, as if he wants to ask me something. He looks away when he notices me watching. "What is it?" I ask him.
"It is not important," Nageer replies stiffly. He turns away, appearing to be concentrating on his footsteps.
"Come on, it's no big deal. If you want to ask me something, go ahead."
"Zz'gash is the homeworld of your ancestors, the Dune Runners." Nageer states.
"Yeah. And?"
He sighs. "How does it feel to walk on your species' home planet once again?"
"Well…I don't know. It's kind of hard to explain," I begin. "I've never actually been to Zz'gash before; I don't think any Zergling has been here in centuries. But it feels…somehow familiar, but also very strange at the same time. It's like I belong here, but I don't; I have come home, but I haven't." Nageer is looking at his feet again. I suddenly realize why he's so upset. "You miss Aiur, don't you?" He says nothing. We continue in on in silence toward the cliffs.
"Guys, come on! Open up, I know you're in there!" This isn't fair! The Observers just collected the first pictures of Dune Runners, (as I overheard from Drixis in one of his many one-sided comm. reports) and the stupid Scientists aren't letting me see! I bang on the door to the Observatory with my big back feet. "Come oooonnnn! Let me in! I won't bite…much."
"Deekah! Are you tormenting the Scientists again?"
"Um…no, oh great and mighty Dark Templar, sir."
"How many times do I have to tell you to leave them alone?" Drixis sighs. "You know they…aren't used to you."
"Well they can get used to me! I wanna see the Dune Runners! They are my ancestors, after all." I argue. Drixis hates it when I argue with him, but I have just as much a right to see those vids as any other warrior here! "Drixis, tell them to let me in! I don't see what they're scared of; it's not like I'd rip off their limbs and eat their guts or something. I've never even eaten Protoss, and besides, I heard it's too sinewy, not worth picking out of the teeth."
"Do you have to be so graphic?"
"Well I haven't, and that's what I heard."
"I don't even want to know where from. Just leave them alone Deekah. That's an order."
"Yes, my Cere…" I begin, but Drixis smacks me on the snout. Hard. "I mean, sir. Yes sir." Drixis is a fair commander but he doesn't take any crap and sometimes, I admit, I can be a pain in the tail. I deserved it; comparing any Protoss to a Zerg Cerebrate is definitely pushing it.
As I rub my sore snout, one of the Zealots, a younger, less experienced one by the look of it, approaches Drixis. "Dark Templar?" he asks.
"Yes, Arvix?"
"A few of us were wondering if we could take the Shuttles and go exploring. The Scientists won't let us look at their findings, and we would like to see the Dune Runners for ourselves."
"That and you're getting bored of just sitting around the base, doing nothing." Drixis calmly remarks. I swear, if that Zealot had had a jaw, it would have dropped to the ground! "Don't look so surprised," Drixis smiles, seeing Arvix's shocked expression. "I too was a Zealot at one time, eager to prove myself; I understand perfectly how boring this mission must seem to some of you. You have my permission to take the Shuttles to explore, but do not set foot on the sand, understood?"
Arvix nods. "Yes sir. Thank you sir." He then turns to me. "Deekah, would you like to come with us?"
"I thought you'd never ask."