02:40AM September 4th

Zeratul's flagship, outer orbit of Braxis

Zeratul knew the protocol for prisoners of war: discover their motives, negotiate terms of release with their superiors, and then barter them away. The Terrans used to be the easiest to extort, as they would go to great lengths to recover even the pettiest of officers, but they had since become less sensitive and adopted the ways of the Zerg—meaning if release could not be settled, then the unit was simply forgotten. However, Captain Demeter Starling had been preemptively forgotten, and this astonished Zeratul greatly.

All incoming, non-native transmissions—that is, transmissions remote from the Conclave—were manually examined by that Carrier's admiral. As Prelate of the newly formed Conclave, he was naturally the admiral of any given ship he was on, assuming the Matriarch or Artanis were not present. Rarely were such transmissions ever up for his review, so he was sure to pay close attention to the glowing blue file that appeared on the viewer. He selected it mentally, grumbling when he remembered these new computers had not been linked to the psi. He swiped at it angrily.

It was written in assembly language. Zeratul was absolutely puzzled.

That means this is a Terran signal…

That medic must be something. She's already getting messages from home.

It had a viral tag on the front of it, and Zeratul skimmed through the rest of the program idly. Terran viruses could not penetrate Protoss computer systems.

Sent to her helmet…no message attached, though. Perhaps this is a GPS ID signal to triangulate her position?

He stopped abruptly at line 90.

This is a self-destruct command.

The Terrans had sent the medic a termination transmission.

Termination transmissions detonated a small incinerator chip along the dorsal side of the target helmet, which created an acidic rinse with a blast radius of three feet. Used mainly for soldiers gone rogue or those missing-in-action, the termination function was designed to destroy the technology and the body, leaving only a pool of hydrogen-ion-saturated liquid as evidence of existence. She was missing in action, though a typical MIA termination had to wait four months before making the tribunal circuit, where it would stay for another year or so.

Still…

He tapped the screen lightly, calling up the video feed of her stasis cell.

She was in an iso-osmotic high-mineral stasis suspension since most humans' epithelial cells rupture in hypertonic low-mineral stasis. The cool blue light reflected limply across the smooth expanse of her skin, dying the pale pink complexion a light cyan. Her hair was curling in the water and her left eye was twitching, as if in some transitional dream. She was clad in the simple white barracks uniform, which was slightly ruffled on her arm where the cabersol had dissolved through her arm pack.

Zeratul ran his mind along the soft turn of her forelimb.

She tore a red and white sticker off its wax backing and plastered it across the helmet of a severely wounded soldier. He was missing his legs, but his face looked calm and serene in sleep, as if pacified by the pain.

"We have a potentially terminally injured soldier at location 12. Requesting recon orders for myself, Captain Demeter Starling," she said into her commlink. A medic near her was adjusting her gloves—

—and she quickly evaporated in a cloud of blood and dirt.

The colours in her vision began to blend suddenly, as if ripped together in a mixer. The ground beneath her sighed as the earth split, unseen caverns and mineral veins forcing themselves to the surface as a metal pyramid wormed itself tightly into the tiled soil. There were soft glowing green lights humming along the edges of the shape, but otherwise her vision was dark.

A thought cascaded idly from her mind. "Find your soldiers, girl. Heal them. Find your soldiers!"

A shape began morphing out of the bubbles of darkness in her sight, a tall, elongated human with shining bright eyes. Its arm was mottled from a burn and tarnished with melted plastic and metal. Her arm flew out with the Neurostim tip flaming.

The skin shook off the metal before dividing to let the attachment suck out more shrapnel. The gauntlet cauterized the wound with a searing light and smoothed over the incisions with a fresh layer of regenerating skin. A prod to apply the painkiller, and all was right.

An odd sensation flooded her as an alien voice quaked in her mind. 'Thank you, Captain.'

Her vision was waning. "Hoo-rah," she said, and an image of her laughing at the barracks came up before she plunged away into nothing.

She was technically a rogue. She had healed the enemy. She clearly had done so out of instinct—instinct she had acquired from Resocialization in her training—but that would make little difference in her trial against the state. The UED was particularly unforgiving on matters of treason. Still, that didn't seem like enough to tip the scales out of her favour…she was the highest-ranked medic in her brigade, and the first medic or woman to make it to Captain. She commanded the entire Bravo Company of the Epsilon squadron. It seemed a bit preemptive to eliminate her without further questioning, considering the monetary investment the UED had already made in her and the heroic symbolism she had to medics and women that had been commissioned for battle.

Still, the situation put her in quite the sticky situation, even with the Protoss. She had not shown hostility towards them and, under general principle and battle honor code, noncombatants were not to be harmed. She was not participating in the actual fighting, but she was helping it by healing her men. Then again, that was her job. But she breached both UED and Protoss protocol when she healed the Scout pilot that had crash-landed next to her.

And it complicated things when the Scout pilot was Artanis, the Protoss Praetor.

Yes, even the Praetor showed her mercy, hence why she was not immediately sliced to pieces on the spot. Zeratul had not spoken to Artanis since the whole ordeal, and, now that the fleet was moving on to Char, he decided it would be in her best interest to consult him before making a decision as to her fate. He called up the Praetor's commlink.

The familiar smooth, yellow-green features of his swam into view. His aura of tranquility was almost visible over the connection. Zeratul bowed. "Greetings, Praetor."

"The same to you, Prelate," he said, quick to speak. "I am guessing this is about the young Captain and her situation on Braxis?"

"Yes," Zeratul said, eyes narrowing. "I have just received a termination signal for her helmet from UED command. It appears she is not wanted over there for some strange reason, which means she is a prisoner of war we cannot gamble back. We truly have no use for her, and I have not decided what to do with her."

Artanis looked deep in thought. "Why would they terminate such a useful and well-decorated officer? It seems like somewhat of an expensive investment to simply throw away after a bad mission."

"My thoughts exactly. There is one other viable option that I have not fully considered, but it is still open: she could have been involved in some sort of inconvenient political scandal, though a violent reaction of this magnitude is atypical for Terrans."

"Perhaps were should rouse her and question her first-hand."

Zeratul nodded formally. "I shall handle the interrogation myself."

"Please, Zeratul, it is not an interrogation," Artanis said lightly. "She is too young to possibly do any damage."

"The younger ones turn it into an interrogation," he said, the reluctance present in his voice. "I expect to hear a long while of her spouting off her name, rank, and serial number, as mandated by Terran POW protocol. The young think those rules will save them."

Artanis sighed as the commlink was severed, and Zeratul sent orders to her medical assistants to remove the sedative feeds. He swept down the Carrier's bridge into the elevator, impatient to start yet eager to get it over with.

She was barely awake when he arrived, sitting unbound in a chair. If need be, he could subdue her with psionics, but he sensed a weird experience about her, as if she knew better than to fight but was still ignorant enough to disobey. She shifted uneasily and tried blinking her eyes to focus her vision. Her blonde hair was sticking in sweaty clumps to her forehead and the braid down her back was unkempt from her transfer and treatment in the mineral suspension.

Zeratul entered her mind in a single stroke. She bolted upright and twisted her neck to see him, still half-blind. "Who's there?"

Her voice was thin and high, tinged slightly with worry. The fear sounded strange in her ringing feminine tones.

"My name is Zeratul, Prelate of the Protoss," he said, bored already. "You are a captured prisoner of war."

She stared at him blankly, clearly unable to focus. There was an odd sheen over her eyes, and Zeratul felt a psi moving through her…she seemed to conduct it, almost.

It is simply an outreach of the Uraj. It is calling everyone, it seems…

She was still blinking rapidly, but she managed to slur out, "My name is Demeter Starling, my rank is Captain, First Class, the Epsilon Squadron, and—"

"—your serial number is STR-DEM-0000-000-02."

She froze—still unable to see—and then slung her head in her hands. "Oh, God, Protoss. Mind-readers. Did we lose?"

"The entire shipyard was razed. Yes."

She sighed. "Dammit. I'm in hot shit, then."

"It would appear so," Zeratul said primly. "Perhaps you can enlighten me—we just received a termination signal sent to your helmet, obviously meant to kill you, as your helmet was transmitting healthy vitals."

She froze again, fear climbing her body, but Zeratul continued. "After reviewing your record, it would seem to be an unwise course of action to terminate a soldier in the prime of her career. I am hoping you might elucidate on the matter at hand, Captain."

She stared at him open-mouthed, clearly in disbelief, and, clearly, she was none the wiser. Zeratul sighed. "We are not in the habit of killing our prisoners, Captain, but nor do we simply release them without terms of exchange. The UED has shown enough to prove that they are not even mildly interested in your return, which is peculiar, to say the least."

"What happens if I don't' have a good excuse?"

"You will be stripped of your rank and belongings and placed under military arrest until further notice," he said. Before he could ask his next question, he caught the thought running though her mind. 'My helmet…'

UED soldiers own two things: their dress uniform and combat helmet. Each helmet transmits a unique frequency and is usually customized to the wearer's liking. Demeter had upgraded her helmet to suit her fancy, including things like air conditioning, sweat proof spray, and sniper vision to supplement her Zipper 12. For these reasons, it was against protocol to leave helmets outside of living quarters—this was enforced socially as lost helmets were vandalized and hung out for all to see—or to remove them during battle.

Zeratul noted a spike in psionic activity as she mumbled, "Where's my helmet?"

"Have you no defense, Captain?"

She looked at him for a while, attempting to scry an emotion out of his bleak features, but then hung her head. "No."

She was going over the last few things she remembered—talking to Holcomb, radioing Command for recon probes, then the Scout cash-landed next to her and nearly killed her, but she healed something, a shadowy figure who could speak with his mind…

'Alexei,' she thought. 'Too perfect. This is all too perfect for du Galle…Alexei will come to save me.'

"Then, Demeter Starling, on behalf of the Protoss Conclave, I am here for your arrest. Your helmet has been consolidated. I will need your consent as a prisoner of the Conclave to renounce your rank as Captain."

Instantly, she retorted, "Dream on, baldy."

Zeratul's eyes narrowed, and he cloaked himself, pressing into her mind. Her eyes told her she was alone, but her head… her head knew better. He was still here, lurking distantly…

You will never be alone, Starling, unless you renounce your rank. The other option is significantly more permanent.

She gulped, weighing her options.

'Goddammit, Alexei.'

"Alright. I'm not a Captain anymore."

She wanted to cry. Being a civilian permitted crying, though her honor didn't. Zeratul flashed back into sight and she jumped. His eyes were still narrowed in annoyance. "Good. I would have disliked killing you."


Back at the bridge of his ship, Zeratul received a transmission from Artanis. Aldaris, the Matriarch, and Kerrigan were present as well. "Prelate, we are having problems summoning aerial units through the Warp Matrix. The mission will have to proceed entirely on the ground."

Kerrigan cocked her head to the side. "That's fine. You might want to land all important units in case they attack from the air since we won't be able to get back-up for anything going on over our heads."

"Kerrigan has a point," Artanis conceded reluctantly. "Zeratul, land the prisoner. She cannot remain in the air if we are attacked. We need to keep our hands clean of UED blood."

"UED?" Kerrigan said inquisitively. She had the hungry look in her eyes again. "I thought just the Dominion was down here."

"The UED is holding a blockade on the eastern side. I expect we should encounter them on our way out," Zeratul said curtly. Kerrigan was not among his favourites.

"Mmm, I love the UED," she said evilly. "What's this about a prisoner?"

"It is none of your concern," Aldaris snapped.

"Silence, Judicator," the Matriarch said with the sharp intonation of a flicked whip. "Artanis captured a noncombatant. She is being held captive until we can negotiate a release."

"She?" Kerrigan said, her face lighting up. "It's a girl?"

"There will be no release," Zeratul said, ignoring the Terran. "The UED has sent a self-destruct command to her unit, essentially erasing her from their sensors. For now, I am holding her until the Conclave can determine a better use for her."

"Well, bring her down, boys!" Kerrigan said excitedly. "I haven't laid into a UED bitch in a long while."

"Absolutely not," Artanis injected. "I will not be accused of war crimes with the UED. We do not need any more enemies. For now, the Zerg is quite enough. She is under my protection until stated otherwise, and you shall not lay a hand on her, Kerrigan. I mean that."

"Artanis, you old softie, you're going to execute her anyways. At least let me get a good look at her before you whack her down."

"She is a medic, Kerrigan, and we are not sanctioned to execute noncombatants by Khala law," Artanis whined.

"She was carrying a sidearm quadruple the size of a normal medic," Zeratul remarked. "Medics typically carry a semi-automatic Stingerette to provide cover-fire for their patients. She was carrying a Snapdragon Zipper 12, equipped with a sniper scope and six Snapdragon charges for taking down small machines. The next upgraded gun would have been the C-10—"

"—Canister rifle, for ghosts," Kerrigan said. "Don't sound much like a noncombatant to me. Ghosts don't tote around pop-guns."

For a brief moment, Zeratul was reminded that she herself was once a Terran. Kerrigan was one of the best, Jim had always said, and he theorized that half her hatred had come from the robbery of her career as Mengsk's top ghost. Zeratul could see very little human left in her anymore.

"Regardless, we are forbidden to allow any harm to come to her until the Conclave decides her fate."

Kerrigan pouted. "Well, damn. You all are no fun. No wonder the Xel'Naga ditched you."

"Watch your tongue, Zerg witch," Zeratul said crossly. "We have not forgotten your crimes against us. You would do well to not forget that."

"What are you doing with her until then?" Kerrigan asked, ignoring the Prelate, much to his chagrin.

"After she is flown down, I will meet with her to see if we can ascertain why she was terminated. Zeratul suspects political scandal. I suspect treason."

"Scandal? The UED has scandal? And here I was, thinking they were a bunch of worthless brats with mind-control microwave ovens."

"She kept mentioning the Vice-Admiral in her thoughts," Zeratul said. "She refers to him by his first name. She made it sound has if the Admiral was trying to be rid of her. She could be having an affair with the Vice-Admiral that affects his work, and du Galle could be trying to eliminate her."

"Not a very subtle guy, huh?"

"Yes, it is quite bold, even for Terrans," he said, careful not to anger Kerrigan. She said nothing, and he continued. "Uncharacteristic, but still believable."

"Well, shit, Zeratul, you've got a perfectly good UED medic in your lap and you're just gonna let her rot away in the name of your precious Conclave?" Kerrigan laughed at the irony. "If you won't let me eat her and you can't return her, you might as well make her earn her keep and put her to work."

"Her technology is incompatible with anything non-Terran."

"I could use a healer."

"If her healing you consist of you consuming her, then no," Zeratul said flatly.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Zeratul. You know I'm right. You just want to be unreasonable to prove a point."

"Other than to support you, she has no reason to go out, nor can we trust her to go out. I don't think she would even provide that much support."

"Bullets do slow me down. And you know I'll keep an eye on her." Kerrigan grinned maliciously. "No treason on her end of the stick if I've got my set on her."

"Why are you so interested in her?" Artanis asked.

"Nostalgic. I wonder what's happened last I left the UED. And there sure as hell weren't combat medics when I was serving. Gotta stay with it."

Zeratul disliked speaking with Kerrigan. She had an odd way of backing him into corners he did not care to be in. Sighing, he said, "She might as well. If the Matriarch approves, then I will clear her to go."

Raszagal hummed quietly over the commlink. "If she is not a direct threat to the mission at hand, she may go. I think we all will agree that if she begins to interfere with the collection of the crystal, she must be killed."

"What if we are charged with war crimes?" Artanis said.

"If even her own UED has tuned its back on her, then I doubt we will be charged with anything. If she killed, then we may point out that the UED attempted to murder her while she was alive in our possession."

"The Matriarch is right," Zeratul said. "She is not a prisoner of the state; she will be Kerrigan's aide until she exhausts her purpose."

With that, the commlink closed as all ships prepared for landing. Zeratul had the odd feeling that he had just catalyzed a huge mistake, but he drowned it with a prayer to the Khala for strength.