Masterminds & Comets

The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself

Date: 2508.07.25

Location: Korhal, Imperial Palace
Time: Morning

The colonists on Tarrin V were very happy to hear the good news from them when they went to retrieve their ship. With a ship of their own, they can move about the nearby systems, and with the Dominion giving a helping hand, they looked forward to help out the other 'hostage colonies'. Nabiros was surprised to see that Tekka, a Tal'darim of all people, seemed to glow with joy and relief as she saw that the Terrans were now in a position to claim their own fate. He suspected that there was something personal behind it but decided not to pry, it would have been untimely. Fate has been kind so far, if somewhat twisted in its sense of humour, and he was certain that an opportunity will present itself when the time is right.

They returned to the pirate base soon after, where they found the pirates in shackles, boarding their transport ship in shock and disbelief. After a short search for Lt. Tailor, they found out that Valerie Jacobson and Konrad Walters have already been transported to one of the battlecruisers' medbays, where they are recovering. To her surprise, when the lieutenant mentioned that the Protoss were keenly interested in the welfare of the odd duo, the medical personnel scrambled to check everything that could be checked, and cleaned and fixed Konrad's cybernetic harness. They even managed to find old cybernetic prosthetic models that can connect with his less than up to date harness. Nabiros made a mental note to familiarise himself with the topic. He found himself increasingly appriciating his mechanical body, since he could memorise and recall information with a speed and clarity that few biological species could match.

When they reached Korhal, the crew of the Explorer could see that it was still in bad shape. Augustgrad was largely cleaned up and its remaining structures were repaired but there was less of them than empty building space, which was filled with ordered rows of pre-fabricated shelters, streams of people moving about like blood in veins, making the overall cityscape look like a healing wound. Unfortunately, the rest of the planet's cities looked much worse, clean-up crews working around the clock to remove debris, corpses, and structurally unsafe buildings. Nabiros felt sorry for the Terrans, knowing that the Daelaam finished tidying up their cities in weeks after the war, and were in the process of getting their infrastructure in shape. He couldn't help but feel that Artanis was aware of the state and progress of the Dominion, and the timing of his aid is perfect: late enough that the Terran government can show the people they can and are getting the job done, but soon enough that there is plenty of work to do. Nabiros felt proud of his Hierarch's shrewdness and clarity, and inspired to improve himself.

Nabiros found the Imperial Palace the single most amusing piece of Terran architecture, as they approched it in a civilian transport. He was convinced that whoever designed it saw a Protoss nexus at least once, and in a fit of awe, jealousy, and minority complex, decided to build a bigger, and arguably better one. Said architect would have felt annihilated if he had seen the cityscape of Aiur before it fell. Still, he had to admit that putting turrets on it wasn't a bad idea, something that new nexus variants meant for combat zones should include as well. Nabiros started to see a pattern in Terran architecture, a logic that went "Is it really, really important? Yes. Would someone want it to be gone? Yes. Then put turrets on it." Considering the Terrans' chaotic and internal conflict ridden society, it made sense that they had an almost instinctive urge to fortify. Nabiros found a twisted sort of reasoning behind the notion "the deepest sense of security comes from the sight of your enemies' bodies littering the landscape around your home". Which in turn, it seems, created the Terran offensive attitude that required at least some feedback from those they defeated, resulting in the barbaric mindset of crushing their enemies, seeing them driven before them, and hear the lamentation of their remaining population. But most confusing of all, this was generally abhorred by the civilian population, even if they took some enjoyment from the sense of domination they got out of conquest. It was like Terrans couldn't live without discord and self-contradiction, creating a society that was very much like a twisted cultural adaptation of Zerg cellular behaviour. Nabiros suddenly felt like it would be easier to achieve peaceful coexistence with the Zerg than the Terrans. Then again, the Protoss were historically a genocidal species, truth be told, and relied on a telepathic network to communicate their thoughts and emotions, so while their culture was admittedly less turbulent, they had very little social skills. It was a humbling revelation.

After landing, they were lead through a series of corridors. Battle damage was everywhere, and at one point Nabiros was certain that the Queen of Blades butchered her way past that very hall they passed through, as she fought through the palace guards to execute Arcturus Mengsk, the previous Emperor. He wondered if the Terrans decided that they had more pressing concerns than interior aesthetic issues, or they were deliberately keeping the scars of Kerrigan's passing as a memento of some sort. Nabiros found himself hoping for the latter, especially after Kerrigan's ascension to Xel'naga.

The crew of the Explorer and their escort of four marines reached a large door, that opened to reveal great hall. The marines stood guard at the sides of the corridor, allowing them entry. As they looked around, they realised that the hall was actually a museum, one that only recently received the many items it would hold. Paintings and mementos from across Terran space could be found here, from an elaborate statue of Arcturus Mengsk to a badly damaged but clean green sign that had the words "New Folsom Prison" in white letters. Walking amongst the containers, boxes, and opened items was Emperor Valerian Mengsk, cataloguing each on his data slate. When he heard Nabiros' heavy footsteps (the others' were so quiet in comparison they couldn't be heard), he turned to them.

"Welcome to my museum." he gestured around with a smile, giving him a boyish look for a moment. "Is what I wish I could say. This is where I store the pieces of history that I want secured for future generations. I have already found the place in the city where I want to build the museum, but that will be a task for less occupied times."

As the Emperor talked, the crew of the Explorer slowly walked towards him, looking around at the many items that were gathered here. They halted at an exact 3 meters from the ruler of the Terran Dominion. The Protoss bowed with respect, and Nabiros spoke. "Greetings, Emperor Valerian. I am Nabiros, phase-smith of the Purifiers, and captain of this crew. This is Tekka, librarian of the Tal'darim, and this is the Archon, formerly twelve ancient Nerazim scholars. We are honoured by your invitation."

Valerian raised an eyebrow upon hearing that last bit. "How come such a unique character is left without a name?" That caught everyone off-guard, even the Archon. "You truly have no name?"

"We do not." the Archon rumbled, sounding surprised. "It didn't occur to us that we needed one. We each have our own names, but after being reborn as a single entity, we... We were content with being called Archon, it helped drive home our new way of existence."

Valerian looked at the Archon, appraising it and deep in thought. "You remind me of Hecate (pronounce: 'heket'; the writer), an goddess from our ancient myths. She was usually depicted as a three-headed goddess, or three women standing shoulder to shoulder, making everyone wonder if Hecate was three people or one. Among other things, she was the goddess of magic, and accessing realms past the physical in general. Archons are as good as magical in nature, and their experience of the world is most assuredly different than ours."

"We do have a female majority." the Archon's left head thought out loud, looking at the other two. "And it does fit." the right head nodded in agreement.

"But remember: nomen est omen, as one of our ancient sayings goes." Valerian said, half joking, half serious. "Names are a sign, as much a mark as a warning to others."

"The Protoss have long known of the power of names." the Archon nodded. "We appriciate the warning nonetheless. Hecate sounds good, we already agreed on it but most of us were torn between ceremony and practicality. That solves our problem, then. Emperor Valerian, allow us to ask: how come you have such an interest in history and mythology for someone so young?"

"Some of my teachers would say that I was born old." Valerian laughed, looking like a happy young man again. "I'm an archeologist at heart, I enjoy a historical perspective and a wealth of knowledge." his expression lost its previous enthusiasm, his eyes looking at something he saw before himself. "However, being the Emperor means that I have very little time to spare for simple joys like cataloguing these items, but in exchange I get to do the right thing for my people. That's a good trade in my book."

The Protoss looked at each other, nodding. "We have seen many rulers in our time." the Archon said, its voice rumbling gently. "They were all people, like you and us, but the greatest of them all were those who retained their character even under the heavy burden of leadership. Have faith, young Emperor, for you show great promise. We would be honoured if you called upon us whenever you need us. Speaking of which, we should get down to business, we have probably spent our pleasantry budget ten times over. Nabiros, relay Hierarch Artanis' message to Emperor Valerian."

"Yes." Nabiros nodded, still having images of a happy Valerian planning his museum float around in his mind. "Hierarch Artanis would like you to know that the Daelaam will be ready to assist the Terran Dominion with rebuilding it, once the next 3 months have passed. If you choose to accept, he asks that you have a list of requests ready for him to discuss with his Executors to decide how best the Daelaam could help with each given issue. He warns, however, that any request for any piece of Protoss technology in any way will be denied, however small, as well as a military alliance against the Zerg Swarm. The Hierarch hopes that calmer minds would prevail, and a stable peace could be established in this sector."

The Emperor considered the message for a few moments before replying. "I appriciate the Hierarch's offer of aid, and I will gladly accept it and agree to his terms. I will also support any and every diplomatic effort to create peace in the Koprulu sector. However, I am unsure if the Zerg could be trusted. They might have agreed to a cessation of hostilities, but they can rebuild so much faster than either the Daelaam or us that I'm afraid we cannot avoid war for more than a year or two."

"If I may advice, Emperor." Tekka bowed as she spoke. "I am Tekka, librarian of the Tal'darim. Examine the situation from the Zerg perspective. All major factions would feel safer if they were exterminated, some of them would even believe that justice would be served. However, during the war against Amon, they have proven themselves able allies more than once, which was the entire basis of the Terran and Protoss part of the ceasefire agreement. This is an opening they could capitalise on, which is my estimation of what they intend. Their safest course of action would have been to leave the sector entirely, preferably settling down in an uninhabited region of space where they could rebuild in peace. However, they chose to risk staying here, which suggests a different plan. I'm sure you have your own reports that lack any mention of aggressive expansion and regrowth, which also reduces the likelihood of a hostile attitude. If they attempted to bring Feral Zerg back into the Swarm that would be immediately noticed by the other factions, who would obviously unite to exterminate them, which would be a severely one-sided war that would be over in weeks. Therefore, I would recommend giving the Swarm a chance, though no more than one."

"A convincing argument, I will remember it." Valerian nodded in agreement. "Was that the entirety of Hierarch Artanis' message?" he asked, turning back to Nabiros.

"Only that until he can rally more substantial aid, he instructed us to aid you in any way we can." Nabiros gestured to himself and his crew. "Wherever a small team is sufficient, I believe we can succeed. Our ship and we ourselves are self-sufficient, so it is unlikely that we would requisition anything other than information."

"I will have to consult my advisors, but rest assured that you will never have a dull moment for the next 3 months." Tekka could see the tide of ideas swarming through Valerian's eyes. "We like to tell the people that we are doing well, which is mostly true all things considered, but there are plenty of security issues that could use a small and elite strike team. I cannot in good conscience promise that it will be glorious or even worth telling as a story, but you could save a lot of my soldiers' lives and let us secure valuable supply lines."

"It's not like we have anything better to do." the Archon's left head muttered.

"We will do our best." Nabiros said quickly, to divert attention from the Archon's less than necessary comment.

"Very well. En taro Tassadar." the Emperor said, dismissing them.

"En taro Tassadar, Emperor Valerian." Nabiros said as they bowed and left the hall.

Halfway between Valerian and the exit Tekka asked the Archon. "Are you serious about the name?"

"We are." the Archon nodded enthusiastically. "We will speak more of this later. All these exciting people got us itchy for some slaughter."

Tekka glared at it. "I don't want to know how those two things are connected."

Their marine escort were thankful for their visors, otherwise the Protoss guests might have been put off by the fear on their faces as they listened to the Archon's horrifyingly excited cackling.