Heart of the Swarm - Alternate

by DeltaCadimus

[WARNING - Unofficial Alternate Novelization] The Queen of Blades has fallen. The Swarm was defeated and Sarah Kerrigan has been restored to humanity. The war for the Koprulu Sector is over. Or is it? AU, OC, JimxSarah.

21. Chapter XIX - Writing History

HEART OF THE SWARM ALTERNATE

CHAPTER XIX - WRITING HISTORY

---

WAR CHAMBER, DAELAAM ARK
CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR

It had been minutes since she'd been running around and around the War Chamber, time and again, but now she was feeling the burden heaving greatly on her. She could feel the pain and, equally, the anger coming up on her as she struggled to run more laps with those infernal balls now hurting her wrists and, thus, her arms and her back. Though it was no race, she made an effort to make every lap worth it. Her body clearly became to be tired with both running and carrying the balls.

The fool Biblos believed she'd give up, especially after that ordeal she put her through and the martial fight he put on her, though she was instructed. Still, Lasarra would not be so easily bent. She couldn't, under the most extreme of pains in those chambers, and she wouldn't now. Her anger only increased her will to pass through this. She would not be made a fool or a weakling out of again. She would pass through that trial to prove her point and earn her place, as she would pass through any other said 'trials' Biblos would make up for her. Naviri said he was one that many would hate the most, but would be more than willing to follow into Hell, if needs be. Lasarra, as of that moment, felt that if should she be able to hit one or two times on her instructor, she would rest well past the training. She would absorb what she would learn and not deliver one ounce of satisfaction to the Praetor whom made her life a Hell on those chambers. Still, the tire and pain were increasing by the moment as she ran across the chamber, her three hearts beating in frantic acceleration as her almost whole body ached desperately for a rest. Her wrists suffered the most, the pain reaching to the very bones, where she felt they could break at any time.

Suddenly, she felt herself trip with the wrong step as she fell to the ground, the hurt of bumping with the cold metal floor adding to the body. She lightly gasped in the pain as she felt herself fall down to the weight of the ordeal that gripped her now, despite the fact she attempted to struggle through the pain and tire. A great deal of effort was required for her to get on her feet, focusing on her anger to keep her going. Yet it was a bit difficult when the same pain kept you distracted instead of keeping focused. She resumed her running, knowing that her body simply couldn't take anymore much.

All the meanwhile, the Zer'atai N'arkham had been watching her fighting through her tire and hurt, all still and standing before the crate that held a small, disc like computer. Different from Terran machinery, however, that computer often required a more psionic interaction than a physical one. That computer displayed a hologram screen of the ball shackles that Lasarra painfully hoarded as she continued to tire around another lap in the War Chamber, displaying the integrity of the balls themselves and informations concerning energy feed and the level set. The Nerazim contemplated her running around, displaying either a sign of endurance that only appeared in a few Protoss, or that she had a considerable ounce of non-sense. Perhaps both, as very little would force their continuing after a few running turns with those balls. Those whom did would not last too long, but she was persisting.

Perhaps persisting too far.

Her wrists now hurt more than ever, as Lasarra kept on running, even her insides hurting all at once as she continued to run. Her body parts began to respond erractically, nerves starting to tense up and convulse to try and stop her body before a rupture would erupt. She started to yelp in pain, continuously, yet struggling to stifle what otherwise would be a sign of hurt and tire. Something that N'arkham or Biblos, if the Praetor were present, would relish upon.

That was when N'arkham decided enough is enough.

Suddenly, as she attempted to run, Lasarra noticed the grip of the balls, out of a sudden, had vanished, allowing her to run a tad bit more easily, but only for a few seconds as she continued to run. Then, she ceased running for a moment, noticing the weight was too light again, from when she was first put those shackles.

"What?", Lasarra mumbled, dumbfounded.

"That is enough, Initiate.", a voice said, behind her. She stopped and turned to see N'arkham was walking forward, directly to her. "You may rest for a few moments."

"What?", Lasarra asked, her body aching in pain. "No, dark one, the Praetor would never..."

"Biblos is not here, Lasarra.", N'arkham retorted. "And that is an order. My order. Stand down and rest, now."

"I can still continue.", Lasarra said, not willing to give in.

"You clearly cannot!", N'arkham exclaimed, firmly. "I could sense your body convulsing, aching and desperately needing rest. You have stretched the limit, Initiate, let your corpse rest, it has earned it."

"Not enough for me.", Lasarra said, turning and beginning to run again.

"I ordered you to stop, Initiate!", N'arkham roared.

"I will stop when I am finished!", Lasarra exclaimed back.

Cursing himself for what he'd have to do, N'arkham grabbed the staff where he wielded his scythe-like Warp Blades and threw it at Lasarra's legs, whom were still racing. The staff flew and spun rapidly, strength and energy building up until it hit it's target, enough to both make it hurt and make Lasarra yelp as she tripped and fell to the ground. The Zer'atai started to walk forward, with a bit of hurry, hoping to catch Lasarra before she could get on her feet.

"Stop means stand still, Initiate!", N'arkham said, angry.

"I am aware of the meaning of this word, dark one, thank you!", Lasarra retorted, angry, as she tried to pick herself up. N'arkham picked his staff and wasted no time activating it. Lasarra stopped when she heard the flashing sound, turning her head to see the Zer'atai had his Warp Blades on.

"Have you ever experienced being cut by a Warp Blade, Initiate?", N'arkham said, coldly. "I assure you, youngling, this injures and wounds even more than your hallowed Psi-Blades, almost twice as they do. If you want to have your first experience, defy me by getting on your feet. Otherwise, stand down and rest!"

"And simply deliver you what you want, to be satisfied?", Lasarra asked, defiantly. "So much you as the Praetor had not gone lightly on myself in the chambers. When I would be resting, I would presume you would then make me run again, with the weight on my wrists, all to infuriate me. So why I cannot infuriate you, in the same way?"

"Believe me, Lasarra...", N'arkham said, coldly and menacing. "You never had seen me infuriated. And you may regret yourself, should you make me be..."

Lasarra and the Nerazim only deadlocked stares with one another for some time, both not so willing to give in. When N'arkham tightened his grip on his active Warp Blade, however, Lasarra resigned, though in disgust as well, as she collapsed to the ground, her body more aching than never. The Zer'atai deactivated his Warp Blades then.

"Do you know what separates a warrior from a savage or a beast, Initiate?", N'arkham asked. "'Tis not garments, fighting practice nor how shiny is the armor, youngling. It is restraint. It is knowing when to stop."

"Ironic, given the Executor taught me that no matter if my whole body hurt, I should never stop.", Lasarra said, sarcastically.

"In a combat situation, Initiate, and that is one you are highly unlikely to experience today, or tomorrow, or the next sunturn!", N'arkham retorted, firmly. "Your body is not like a machine that you can abuse and mistreat until it breaks down. It cannot be repaired, nor replaced, should it truly break. If one piece of you breaks beyond recover or is lost, it cannot be restored."

Lasarra cursed herself quietly as she attempted to pick herself up to sit upon and rest her back on the close column where she fell close to.

"Do you believe that you will become stronger and endure longer runs in only one night, Initiate?", N'arkham said. "You are gravely mistaken. And, allow me to early you an advice, you will not gain anything by exceeding yourself. Not even praise."

"Is it not through exceeding that the finest of the Akilae were formed at the Aeon of Strife, Prelate?", Lasarra asked, coldly.

"Even the great warriors of such barbaric times knew when to stop practicing, to allow their bodies rest.", N'arkham replied. "Greater strength, greater endurance, these are things you develop over time, Initiate, at each passing moonrise."

"Mayhaps I may have not this much time, dark one.", Lasarra said, bitterly. "You have seen the fight the Praetor had put up with Disciple Ketal, you have heard the demanded the same level for the next time we fight one another!"

"You are no Oracle of the Nerazim, Initiate, so you do not know when this fight will occur!", N'arkham stood firm.

"So you suggest I get to consult one every day!?", Lasarra asked, ironically.

"No.", N'arkham said, coldly. "What I am suggesting is that you do not force your strength and limits. This is only your first day, Lasarra. Many more will come, and your increase of strength, fighting skills and abilities will come with them."

"How easy 'tis to speak rather than doing...", Lasarra said, bitterly.

"It is the truth, Initiate.", N'arkham said. "And, if may I suggest, you should calm your anger."

"I could, should I manage to repay you all you have done on my initiation.", Lasarra said, closing her eyes. "But I also could go lightly, in retribution for you aiding me to the Recovery Chamber."

"This would only gratify the basic, primal urges, Khalai.", N'arkham said. "This is another thing that makes a warrior different from a beast or savage. Both primal creatures unleash all their anger, fury and rage at once. They do not refine it, do not control it, do not channel it. Warriors train to learn how to channel such anger."

Lasarra simply rested as she listened to the sermons of the supposed instructor before her. N'arkham could easily notice she was not listening or even pretending she was not.

"Are you with so much anger of myself and Biblos, Initiate?", N'arkham asked. "Enough to not even listen to what we have to say?"

"If you declare so, Prelate...", Lasarra said, tired.

"I hardly believe it.", N'arkham said. "I, for one instance, believe you are angry, though not of myself or the Praetor."

"Are you reading my mind, dark one?", Lasarra asked, coldly.

"I do not have to.", N'arkham said. "I can recognize one angry at her weakness, the very moment I see her. I have seen it before."

"Forgive my insolence, Prelate, but I do not think you know what anger lies within me.", Lasarra said, coldly.

"I believe I do.", N'arkham said. "You are angry of your fragile state, that you cannot do anything. You are angry at your incapacity to react, to make a stand. You are angry you feel too small before the greatness of other people. You are angry that, when you are mentioned, nothing but ill or raucous is told of you, even as you try to struggle against fate itself, even though it is a terrible one. Like the quicksand of desert worlds, the more you try to struggle out of that position, the deeper and faster you succumb. The anger ultimately turns to despair, despair turns to insanity, and insanity turns to resignation."

Lasarra opened her eyes, contemplative. She seemed to have those exact feelings, something that the Nerazim could not simply know. Unless there was something else.

"Were you one like myself, N'arkham?", Lasarra asked, looking at the Zer'atai standing tall before her.

"Before he became one worthy of wielding the blades of the Zer'atai, N'arkham was naught but a scribe, yet one with a dream and an aspiration.", N'arkham said. "He accomplished it, though at a greater cost."

"And what was it?", Lasarra asked.

"That is... painful, in itself, to remember.", N'arkham said, looking down, to the ground. "Still, in yourself, now I can see the strength you have within. You truly are committed to this, are you not?"

"I am.", Lasarra replied. "I always have been. And, even so, I was never given an opportunity until now. To prove myself."

"You are already proving yourself, Initiate.", N'arkham said. "Perhaps you are the one who truly belongs as a warrior, even more than Selendis herself."

"I doubt much so.", Lasarra said. "My sister has had practice and expertise over the eons. What do I have?"

"Your will, Lasarra.", N'arkham said. "And this compensates for any training she may have had."

"Is this supposed to comfort me, Prelate?", Lasarra asked, coldly.

"You may have the best of training, instructed by the highest known in Protoss civilization as well as the most deadly art your Khala allows to reach.", N'arkham answered. "One thing that is certain in this universe is that ultimately none is worth without the will to prepare. The will to learn. The will to stand. The will to act."

Lasarra only stared at the Nerazim for a moment. "Quite inspirational.", she said, lightly amused.

"'Tis the truth, Lasarra.", N'arkham answered. "'Tis all it is. Your will to get through this and become something different is strong. I am certain you will pass."

"You believe so, N'arkham?", Lasarra asked.

"I simply know.", N'arkham said. "Now, if you would kindly get on your feet and continue..."

"My body still hurts.", Lasarra said, coldly, as she got on her feet.

"So were of many Initiates in this place.", N'arkham said, dismissively, as he turned to head back to the crate, doubtless to prepare the balls again. "And, Initiate, when I tell you to stop, will you, this time?"

"It does not seem I have a choice.", Lasarra said.

"You do have, youngling.", the Nerazim replied. "Though the other option you may not like."

"As always.", Lasarra said, turning around as she started to run again, preparing herself for the weight that would come once again. And it indeed came, as the Initiate continued to run across the War Chamber. As she would until the time for the obstacle track would come up.

---

COMMAND ROOM, DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - HARKONNEN
DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR

Seconds. Minutes. Hours. Days. Time was no longer relevant. It didn't even seemed to care for General Horace Warfield, anymore. Not after that sight caught his very eyes, and those eyes recorded that sight, as well as the memory tried to accept it. Tried to accept that the last thing he imagined had indeed become true.

She was back. And the frozen frame of the video feed recovered by Sneaker was there to prove it.

Warfield didn't want to believe it. He wanted to believe it was someone else, perhaps the female half-Zerg standing next to the figure of the Queen of Blades, whom was truly holding the cards. But the same pose, the same look, the same tendril hair, even though it was stuck to an attempt at a ponytail... It all said otherwise. And, without a shroud a doubt, there was no need for an explanation. Mengsk's broadcast to every world across the Sector was enough of a motive, if that was true. Though Mengsk too couldn't just be that stupid to eliminate Jim Raynor and make him a martyr. But to see Sarah Kerrigan, a Queen of monsters now fallen, right at the mouth of the monster, in the most ironic representation of the tales of Jonah or Pinocchio, it all made sense on what she was doing, and what she wanted.

She wanted Mengsk dead. Warfield, at least, could live with that. But she'd also want his Dominion burned to the ground, thousands of victims in the name of revenge against one person alone. Something that Warfield would not accept.

"Thousands of lives lost...", Warfield muttered, shocked. "Dozens of ships destroyed... Half the Sector potentially defenseless and the Emperor hammering down on us for our disobedience... Forced to put my trust in a said 'terrorist' and his group, as well as an alien trinket... And now, here we are, finding out all that was all for nothing."

"But how she reunited with them here is what's troubling me, General.", McGrudd, who was at Warfield's left, commented. "Do you think she turned on them? Otherwise she'd never reunite with the monsters!"

"I'm starting to think she put the Raiders out of her way.", Warfield said. "No doubt she wants Mengsk's head and anyone whom gets in the path..."

"Which we are, unfortunately, and we can't move.", McGrudd readily said, in regret.

"And she doesn't want Raynor's boys trying to stop her.", Warfield concluded.

"Horace...", McGrudd called, worried. "You're not thinking what I'm thinking, right? You think she killed him?"

"That's what I'm afraid of.", Warfield answered. "This proves the artifact only removed the make-up. This proves Kerrigan's really dead, like Raynor feared. And that the poor bastard paid the price first hand..."

"And now that she's back, we're on the hit list.", McGrudd said. "And right at worst hour, with those two moons fekking up our comms..."

"But we can transmit it to the Marathon and that bastard Maddox.", Warfield said. "Send that video to him, that may change his mind about moving the artifact out. We need it now more than ever for when she arrives."

"I don't think he'll want to believe it.", McGrudd said.

"He has to, Duncan!", Warfield exclaimed. "That idiot can't just be that stupid or ignorant, he's got to believe it! Send it to him."

"Should I take the opportunity too to check on our defenses, General?", McGrudd asked.

"I'm doing that personally.", Warfield said. "I'll be sure to be ready for when she comes. Get everyone warned and prepared for anything. Yellow alert at all times. Hopefully, she won't have too many Zerg to unleash at the fortress while we hold, at least until we can call for help..."

"While we hold, General?", McGrudd asked, worried. "For two days!? Last time we fought her she was powerful and mighty and capable of tearing a Battlecruiser with a minimum of effort. If she still has that kind of power, making it through a day alone is going to be an achievement!"

"Agreed.", Warfield said. "Though I'd call that a miracle, Duncan. Get to work. I'll start mine."

Warfield turned around to leave the Command Room. McGrudd simply stood there, looking at the video feed frame for a moment before walking forward to the workstations.

"Prepare an encoding, pronto!", McGrudd ordered. "Go to yellow alert! All stations loaded and checking!"

A fast loud klaxon erupted across the Command Room as yellow warning lights now flashed high.

---

HIERARCHY ASSEMBLY, TALEMATROS, SHAKURAS

Hurried steps echoed through the halls of the Hierarchy Assembly, those belonging to one hurried Hierarch whom now walked for an emergency summon, one made by Admiral Urun of the Auriga. Commotion was quite normal, except for Artanis, whom headed as of that moment to attend that summon. Something that could only happen if something occurred, within or outside of Shakuras. And it was rarely a good sign, in such difficult times. Fortunately, only three persons necessary were summoned. Artanis, Urun and Selendis. Artanis found it strange, as Urun could easily spread a grim news and provoke an intentional political backlash on the Hierarch's government. On such a savage area of Protoss society that was politics itself, despite all courtesies and moods, each and every tribal leader, like in the Aeon of Strife, were aiming to come atop one another's throats. Artanis, despite his superior position, was nothing more than a mediator between five of the eight tribes that formed the Protoss society. The ninth was that of the Nerazim, an earned representation given their deeds during the fall of Aiur and the fact the Khalai housed in Shakuras itself. The Venatir, Velari and Sargas tribes had no participation in the Hierarchy, meaning they would have to depend on one of the representing tribes to bring their point or fulfil a request that could take a long time to do so, due to the lethargy the numerous, unrelenting discussions brought upon the Assembly itself.

Arriving at his personal quarters, where two of his most loyal Zealot guards stood by the very portal, he stepped in to meet the High Executor herself as well as the Protoss Admiral, whom stood close to the supposed desk where worked the daily bureaucracy. Like the remainder of the structure itself, the large room was golden clad in walls, ceiling and floor, though there was a glass decoration below with luminescent blue. The Hierarch's personal quarters were egg-shaped in itself, with viewing windows to the right that allowed a gaze of the Nerazim capital outside. Close by, opposing the portal, stood a massive decoration meant to represent and impress the nature of Artanis' supposed position, with several arcs surrounding a pair of blue orbs. In the middle, a large Protoss head with a High Templar headwear stared down with a serene, yet serious look. Below that wall decoration was the Hierarch's desk, and behind it lied two triangular bases in which two small crystals, that glowed high, hovered a few meters above. By that desk stood three half-open orbs with couches within, though they had no support for which those supposed chairs hovered. Close to the portal, on one corner, lied a transmitter that allowed him to open contact when in the quarters, and on the other lied a small hovering slab that allowed the Hierarch to lay down and fall asleep. Despite the fact that there were those whom wanted to make a well-crafted, unique bed for the Hierarch to fall asleep, Artanis immediately refused it, not wanting to forsake his warrior origins. Above the access portal arcs stood the banner of his tribe, the Akilae, that, when seen by a certain angle, curiously reminded the design of a head and wing of an eagle, a symbol many times used by the Roman Empire on Earth, Nazi Germany, the United States, the United Earth Directorate and other governments for it's representation of a bright, yet firm force.

"What is it, Urun?", Artanis asked, as he approached the couple that stood high and tall before him. "Why have you made this summon?"

Urun simply handled Artanis a small scroll, a papyrus of a sory that the Hierarch picked and unfolded it, containing a file written in Khalani, the sacred Protoss language.

"Our outpost in the planet Haven was attacked and destroyed.", Urun answered, coldly. "Almost a dozen brethren lost. Those whom survived have affirmed it was the doing of James Raynor's cohorts."

Artanis listened as, for a moment, he read the scroll and then enrolled it, facing Urun. The Hierarch simply remained silent, with a sad face.

"Will you not say anything, Hierarch?", Urun asked, stressed.

"Would you listen, Admiral?", Artanis asked. "You did not when I first warned you that establishing that outpost was unnecessary."

"And I answered it was necessary, Artanis!", Urun exclaimed, angry. "Infestation is something our people should have taken too seriously, but when the Conclave acted, it was too late! And on a world so close to our very space, this could not be ignored!"

"When James Raynor was very much alive, Admiral, he assured us there was no danger with the Terran refugees.", Artanis insisted, firmly. "His word was one you could trust, but instead you preferred to ignore it."

"According to Selendis' report, it led us to believe he was manipulated by the colonist leader.", Urun said. "A female Terran, very much like the Queen of Blades was, though this one shared no infestation, but had an equal power of persuasion, like the Queen of Blades and every other Terran."

"Not every other Terran, Urun.", Selendis said. "Rosemary Dahl shared none of these traits."

"She was an exception, Selendis.", Urun said. "Every general aspect of a society has an exception. You have not studied the Terran societies as close as I did, Executor."

"This is a narrow and prejudicial view, Urun!", Artanis exclaimed, angry.

"It is the denoting of facts, Hierarch, based on actual observations.", Urun said. "Terrans, apparently, have a capacity for manipulating. And now such manipulating has turned our allies against us."

"How can it be, if we acted first by settling that outpost?", Artanis asked.

"Most of the Hierarchy had approved that action, as I recall.", Urun said. "I remember being immediately censored by someone after suggesting a full attack on that world after the loss of the Purifier!"

"I have asked moderation and prudence that day, Admiral.", Artanis said. "Despite his deeds against our armada and the Tal'Darim, James Raynor continued to be our ally, at the time."

"You seemed willing to forgive him after that transgression, on that day!", Urun said, furious. "The survival of our people cannot depend upon the decisions and acts of one who is not even one of our own!"

"But it also cannot depend on rash, exaggerated actions that waste time and resources!", Artanis retorted, angry. "There are greater dangers outside, Admiral, greater than any group of Terran refugees, infested or not!"

"Dangers that, may I add, we already should have been dealing with, especially in a promising time like this!", Urun said. "Since the fall of the Queen of Blades, the time we wasted debating could have been used to deal a strike of vengeance against the Swarm! We could have eliminated most of the Zerg minions across their space and even close to the Terran primary worlds, or even be nearly completed on the reclamation of Aiur!"

"This decision was already made twice, Admiral!", Artanis exclaimed, furious. "This is not a meeting between all tribes and I will not bring this to debate for a third time!"

"But I am debating it!", Urun roared, livid.

"My Hierarch, Admiral, please, behave yourselves!", Selendis interefered, begging. "Debating by shouting and roaring on one another will produce little to no effect, I am afraid."

"Very unfortunate, I am afraid, Selendis, because 'tis only by doing such that I can get the Hierarch's attention, as of late.", Urun said, all bitter. Artanis simply stared at the Admiral, attempting to contain his anger.

"My Hierarch.", Selendis called. "Despite the fact that all whom once stood with James Raynor are equally our friends, a need for a response is necessary."

"What kind of response, this time, Executor?", Artanis asked, coldly.

"A moderate one, Hierarch.", Selendis readily said, glaring at Urun before he could say something. "Not entirely or considerably in force, but enough to intimidate the Terrans."

"The Terrans would be hardly intimidated by a simpleton display of force, Executor.", Urun said. "The Purifier, that was supposed to intimidate those Terrans at surrendering their crusade for those colonists, is now nothing but a ruin of it's former self. The only display of force we can do now is launch an attack!"

"An attack against a defenseless population is against our very principles, Urun!", Artanis exclaimed.

"These said colonists do not appear to be so defenseless, to having managed to destroy one of our settlements.", Urun snapped back. "They seem capable and willing to stand against our might. Let us not disappoint them, then."

"The other tribes would not agree with such insanity.", Artanis said.

"Perhaps they would, Hierarch.", Urun said. "And they would applaud your initiative, should you take it."

"Out of question, Urun!", Artanis shouted, firmly. "We have not come out of the barbaric days of the Aeon of Strife to degrade ourselves back in supposedly justified massacres! This sort of intervention was what resulted in the Kalath Intercession, in case you do not remember!"

Urun had answered nothing back, seeing that Artanis was not so easily headstrong and stubborn as others would have suggested, having studied the history of his race. The Kalath Intercession, namely, was one of the several shames that stained the supposed image of Protoss nobility, along with their rebellion against their Xel'Naga creators, eons preceding the creation of the Zerg. It involved a civil war of the namesake species that would potentially reduce such a sentient, sapient species, into a state of tribalism much akin to the Protoss' own civil war themselves. Fearing such devolution, Juras, a Protoss scientist assigned to the research observatory built on their homeworld, advised the local Executor to cease the fighting through intimidation with superior technology. This backlashed, however, as the Kalathi turned against the newfound 'invaders' and a general war broke out. It was then that the Executor deployed the feared and towering Colossi, whose Thermal Beam Lances had provoked a massacre incalculable, enough to shock the rest of the Protoss race.

In the aftermath, ashamed with their rash intervention, the Conclave permanently sealed the Colossi and tightened their restrictions, forbidding the Protoss to ever again interfere directly in the internal affairs of lesser races. The exception, obviously, came with the arrival of the Zerg, when the Conclave saw first hand the Zerg colonizing and infesting occupied worlds, consuming their inhabitants and twisting their resources without any pity or mercy. Realizing the Zerg was a menace that could not be understood, reasoned with or controlled, the Conclave dispatched Tassadar, an Executor at the time, to cleanse the infestation through fire, purifying the infested Terran worlds.

"Yes, I do remember, Hierarch.", Urun said, coldly. "But, should we not intervene, our integrity will be questioned far more further than it already is! Otherwise, what do you suggest, in your vast knowledge of the matter, that we do?"

"I would trust what James Raynor once declared.", Artanis said, firmly. "That these colonists are safe and their cure against the infestation is effective."

"You may be willing to trust the words of a Terran simpleton, Artanis, but I stand by the power and certainty of our people.", Urun said, bitter. And my certainty is that the idea of a cure capable of eliminating Zerg infestation is as impossible as it is absurd! He should have realized such in the first place!"

"Yet, he believed it, Admiral.", Selendis said. "His belief was strong enough for him to stand against us. What other explanation could there be?"

"The more obvious one, Executor, and the one I stand for.", Urun said. "James Raynor fell for the duplicity of another female, mayhaps with the best of intentions, but without any reasonable notions of the abomination, that infestation is, she fights against."

Artanis and Urun simply looked at one another for quite some time.

"I will take this matter to the Hierarchy first, before taking any action.", Artanis said, coldly. "I will not have any vessel depart to that world, armed or not, before everything is certain and all is covered. If you do not accept, consider this matter closed, then."

"Take this matter to the Hierarchy, if you desire it.", Urun teased, with a light tone of mockery. "In the end, only thou shall be injured by this."

"I sincerely doubt it.", Artanis said.

"Do not tempt fate, Hierarch.", Urun said, coldly. "You may be a warrior and used to pain and sorrow, but this sort of pain and sorrow, of the political, is nothing you know of. Now, if you will allow me, I must depart and check our progress with the Furinax concerning our new weapon."

"You can go...", Artanis said, cold and fed up, as the Aurigan stepped besides him and crossed the portal arcs of the Hierarch's quarters, all tall and proud. Only Selendis and Artanis remained in the office. The Hierarch then stared at the High Executor.

"Do you have something to tell me, Executor?", Artanis asked, heading to the chair before his desk.

"My Hierarch, I venerate you even after what occurred at the end of the Brood War, but Urun attempts to do what is best for our people.", Selendis answered.

"I hardly believe it, Selendis.", Artanis said, resigning, having a seat and then gesturing for Selendis to have a seat as well. "It seems he does so only to raise his prestige within the Hierarchy, like the old politicians of the Conclave, in the past. How did mighty Tassadar managed to withstand them, 'tis a riddle not even the great Khas would be able to answer..."

"Not every political move concerns personal gain, Artanis.", Selendis reassured. "Urun, like his tribe, is passionate with their duty, and this passion only inflamed further with the fall of Kerrigan."

"His said 'passion' could cost the lives of many, Selendis.", Artanis said. "Our people are already on the nigh-brink of extinction. And other Protoss we encounter are acting on their own accord or aligned with the Tal'Darim. And an attempt he makes to reclaim Aiur or directly engage the Swarm, besides, may cost our entire armada. We would be left defenseless as the vultures of Zerg and Terran-kind would come to rummage upon our corpses."

"Urun is well much aware of the risk as every soul walking the halls of the Assembly.", Selendis said. "But even so, my Hierarch, our very government and unity is compromised. The people on the very avenues and alleys of Talematros urge for action, especially now, when times are promising, as he stated. The tribal leaders yearn for the chance to reclaim the lost pride and honor. Our warriors thirst for the opportunity to be taken. Sure you do understand it, do you not?"

"Perhaps.", Artanis said, raising his head. "Perhaps, Selendis. But... If you please... I would like a moment, with none but myself."

"Very well.", Selendis complied, raising from her floating orb-chair. "Should you require something, I shall be available. En Taro Tassadar."

"En Taro Adun.", spoke Artanis, as the Executor turned around to leave the Hierarch's quarters, stepping through the portal arcs and leaving Artanis almost alone with his thoughts, doubts and dilemmas.

Almost.

"Well, I'll give him this, he's got some real thick skin, for your usual politician.", another voice, one that didn't belong to Artanis, echoed across the egg-shaped chamber. "And I thought that was an unique Terran trait..."

Artanis did not have to look anywhere, continuing focusing down on the desk, to realize to whom belonged that voice. It was one he had to get used to since that person entered his life not two years ago, when a Protoss strike force had learned of one of the Terran's most abominable projects and it's product, and they had destroyed it, though the product, apparently a 'slave now freed', as he said it, had done most of the job. Since then, with nowhere to go, he had come to Shakuras, though his reception wasn't that much positive. With such an abomination at sight like a Terran-Protoss hybrid, it rarely was.

A flashing light of blue erupted and lightened more the chamber than it already has as an energy curtain appeared, faded and gradually displayed the very said 'person' that usually remained in that chamber, a monster at a very first sight. This could be very well first seen on his humanoid appearance, clearly Terran, wearing a gray environment suit, with combat boots and gloves and shoulder pads, though other appearances remained irrevocably Protoss, like the chest armor, with a crystal by the chest, as well as wrist pieces where Psi-Blades could be activated.

The more disturbing, however, was his face, the pure denomination of a nightmarish monster, as it had twisted both of it's traits and mixed them together, as any hybrid would. It shared the psionic appendages, gray skin and glowing eyes of the Protoss, but the remainder was clearly Terran, with two ears, a nose and, more disturbing, a mouth with teeth clearly yellowed by the lack of brushing material, as well as a dark blue, almost black tongue and interiors. And that face was now staring at the Hierarch with snide eyes as he lied on a wall, resting his back and crossing his arms.

He was a monster. He was the monster, one not born, but designed by the Terran Dominion in an effort to maximize Ghost potential, pretty much like Shadowblade intended, but through genetic practices that many would consider amoral and illegal, combining Terran and Protoss DNA from captured warriors. A Gestalt. The first Gestalt. Gestalt Zero.

"I believed you would be hardly surprised, monstrous one.", Artanis said, in resignation, as he removed his helmet and rested it on the desk. "Being a Terran yourself, you have had seen politicians before you slaughtered them. They seem to backstab and undermine more than most of the Terrans."

The Gestalt snickered in irony.

"I've not seen every last one of them, but I've got my share, true.", Zero answered, getting off the wall as he started crossing the chamber to the viewing windows outside. "This Urun folk, however, seems quite to be too much for the usual snake type..."

"You believe so?", Artanis asked, coldly. "Now you have become a judge of character?"

"Oh, trust me, Artie, I've got reasons to think this one would backstab you, if he only could.", Zero replied.

"My name is Artanis! And Urun would never do that, hybrid!", Artanis said, upset. "You know nothing of him!"

"Keep holding that thought, boy, you won't be sitting in that floating chair for long...", Zero said, with disdain. "Real comfortable, that thing, by the way."

"Firstly, hybrid, I am not a 'boy', if you are implying the Terran concept of infancy.", Artanis said, bitter and stressed. "Secondly, Urun may be attempting to undermine my efforts due to my staying of hand, but he is loyal enough to the Hierarchy to simply turn arms on myself and my people, if that is what you presume! And, thirdly, maintain your impure, abominable form away from these seatings, for your sake!"

"Well...", Zero said, frowning, staring at the Protoss. "Firstly, Artanis, you are a boy, and I'm implying the Protoss concept of infancy on this. You're almost three hundred years old, and most of these folks but that chick you meet are sure to have gone after the five hundred. Secondly, I think Urun's yet to show his trump card. It's three times you deny him what he wants, and he knows you're on the way of his personal ambitions. I'm warning you, Artie, you should've let me handle him. It'd be clean and quick-"

"They would notice your hand in this, hybrid!", Artanis censored. "As they would notice that I have had something to do with that!"

"You could say it's my fault, because I went mad, devolved back to a destructive state or something, I'm sure one or two would sympathize.", Zero said, like if he didn't give a damn. "'Blame the monster', isn't that what they say of Kerrigan? Why shouldn't it be any different with me?"

Artanis closed his eyes in frustration for a moment.

"Honestly, hybrid, I liked you when you were more destructive and less sarcastic...", Artanis said, holding his 'breath', resting his right hand on his forehead, covering almost both his eyes.

"I can get back to being that, if you want.", Zero said, coldly. "Besides, if you're so worried about the body, I assure you, I've came to know a few places where I can safely dump the Urun folk..."

"What?", Artanis asked, shocked, staring at the Gestalt and getting on his feet. "You have left this structure!?"

"Even one like myself likes to stretch his legs, once in a while...", Zero said, with a bit of irony.

"I told you not to do so!", Artanis exclaimed. "When I first intervened, I delivered my people my word you would no longer be seen on the city's streets!"

"I went cloaked, mommy, if that's what you're concerned...", Zero said, annoyed.

"I am not your mother, monster!", Artanis roared. "But I can very well deliver you a spanking, should you tempt me!"

"I'm sure you would...", Zero replied.

"You should be thanking my benevolence, half one.", Artanis said. "I could have been like the remainder and allowed the Daelaam to destroy you, especially after they discovered what occurred to Muadun! Instead, I intervened for you, believing you could be redeemed."

"And I thank you for that.", Zero said, staring at the Hierarch.

"Then you should be helping me keep my word and remain here, not only to fulfill my word, but also for your own safety.", Artanis said.

"I'm not a helpless blond lady in a pink dress, either.", Zero retorted. "I can very well defend myself."

"That is what many outside the safety of the Assembly are hoping for, so they can then destroy you.", Artanis said. "There are many outside whom have trained and fought with Muadun, many whom would want your head in retribution for his death. Khastiana, the most of all, as she was the more vocal on the matter."

Zero simply frowned, yet he could understand a little bit of the pain the Ash'Arak female Zealot-turned-Immortal apprentice was feeling. It was never easy to stand the sight of one whom simply murdered her mentor and was still awake and breathing, freely roaming the outside world.

"Still, not even the most patient Protoss could bear to stand in a cage, you know that.", Zero said. "Even if it's a comfortable cage, like this one."

"Try and hold, hybrid, 'tis all I am asking.", Artanis said.

"Well, if you don't want a corpse, then at least let me find something dirty on him.", Zero said. "It never hurts to have a little leverage, especially against the likes of him..."

"The last thing I shall do, hybrid, is compromise and stain my honor, if that is what you expect of me!", Artanis stated firmly. The phrase, however, was enough for the Gestalt to crackle and laugh out loud. Artanis simply tightened his eyes in disgust.

"Honor!? Are you serious!?", Zero asked jokingly, laughing a bit more before he calmed down. "And they say you Protoss have no sense of humor..."

"I mean that!", Artanis exclaimed, offended by the laughter.

"For crying out loud, boy!", Zero said, disdainfully. "You really expect to be honorable and hope the others, especially that Urun, won't go up your back!? Politics, as I learned, is a brothel, and you're quite the virgin on this matter."

"I told you, hybrid, I am not a boy!", Artanis exclaimed, furious.

"You are and will continue to be until you grow up a pair!", the Gestalt then said, suddenly fed up. "A little dirt never hurt anyone! You can go the other option, if you want, step out and let Urun take charge and do whatever he wants with his crap-filled head, but if you don't want to, you better step up the game and get a little more compromising."

"Get out of my sight.", Artanis ordered. "Now!"

Zero simply stared at him with disappointment and pity.

"You just won't change, will you?", Zero asked. "Don't complain later if you fall to a coup, or something. Not even the UED were that arrogant..."

With this said, before Artanis raised his head to yell at him, the energy curtain ran over the Gestalt's body as he disappeared from normal sight again.

The Hierarch then lowered in head in frustration and anger. That was when he, a few moments later, to vent such anger, he slammed both hands on the desk.

---

ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK PEAKS, CHAR
ONE HOUR LATER...

It was practically hard for her to stand there and rest now, much less close her eyes or even try to fall asleep. It wasn't, as it normally would, either the cold touch of the side seats in the cargo hold, whom had no couch to rest upon, or the tight spot that didn't allow her to move much and find a comfortable position to rest. Sarah Kerrigan was simply restless. She simply couldn't rest, as her body was un-needing of rest and her mind was too busy, boiling itself as she tried to think something concerning the Harkonnen stronghold the Zerg would assault very soon.

Still, it wasn't easy, given how Warfield and his men locked in themselves pretty tight, against any chances of infiltration or suprise attacks whatsoever. Practically there wasn't a single option, at all, a weakness, that could be exploited to facilitate the fight and, hopefully, reach the Xel'Naga artifact before it could be fired. That, besides all the artillery and firepower Warfield had, including nuclear ordinance, made it all the more impossible to break the fortress and drive the Terrans from Char. For, as long as the Terrans had their confidence in firepower, they'd continue to put up a fight until they were dead, and that was something Kerrigan didn't personally want. She just wanted to provoke enough damage for Warfield to retreat and deliver a message for his Emperor. That, at least, was her personal plan.

"My Queen? My Queen, are you awake?", Kerrigan heard a flanged voice too familiar as she got up, sitting on the seat and noticing the Brood Mother Za'gara right outside the cargo hold of the wrecked Umojan Dropship, staring deep within though not wanting to touch the cold metal floor of the vessel.

"Shouldn't you be working, Za'gara?", Kerrigan asked, looking down and rubbing the back of her neck, not in the mood for conversation. "Picking up stray Zerg for the assault?"

"I have gathered a considerable number of minions, my Queen, yes.", Za'gara answered, nodding. "But this is not what I wanted to talk with you."

"What is it, then?", Kerrigan asked.

"As with you, I am certain, my Queen, I have been placing efforts in thinking a strategy concerning General Warfield's stronghold.", Za'gara started.

"You've been thinking?", Kerrigan said, ironically, letting out a small snicker. "That's scary, given you'd just strike head-on, like you said in the caves..."

"Actually, my Queen, that conversation have had it's share of productivity.", Za'gara said, humbly. "It has caused an effect unknown to me, by then. Out of my own initiative and thirst, I had started to consider new strategy to employ in combat, alternatives to direct assault. Such was increased when you told me how you had defeated me in the test of will."

"That's absurd, Za'gara.", Kerrigan said. "You can't just have learned too much in just a small talk like that. Besides, whatever strategy you made up probably would not work on that place. These are things you learn with time, not all at an instant..."

"I have belief that this strategy may be effective.", Za'gara said. "Yet it is not original, it is just a concept of what you have done against me."

"You're talking about distraction?", Kerrigan asked.

"Yes, my Queen.", Za'gara answered. "As you can recall, the Terrans had just established a second foothold, correct?"

"Yeah, what about it?", Kerrigan asked. "And why bother, we don't have that much numbers to strike at two places at once."

"We can grow more, expendable, in time, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "But the concern is the strategy itself and the Xel'Naga artifact which can potentially destroy any hope for an attack against the Harkonnen emplacement. But, what if it was the other emplacement which was attacked, and not that of General Warfield?"

"Warfield wouldn't fall for it.", Kerrigan said, looking for a moment at the Brood Mother, than returning to look to the cargo hold floor. "Besides, that second place might not have the bigger guns installed yet, but you can bet it's as heavily guarded as the fortress outside."

"True, my Queen, but what if this attack were much more than even the Terran's most powerful weaponry could handle?", Za'gara said. "What if the situation were to spiral out of control, so that the only thing that could save it's destruction would be the Xel'Naga artifact?"

"Za'gara, look, I know, you want to learn, you're trying hard, but you forgot that Warfield ain't stupid.", Kerrigan said, dismissively, staring at the Brood Mother. "He'll notice the distraction and won't move the artifact, at all."

"Then perhaps he may notice you, my Queen, if you are seen in the second Terran stronghold, in the open, leading the assault.", Za'gara said. "This may instigate him to move the artifact afar from Harkonnen, believing he is safe while actually we have a massive force awaiting to assault the stronghold."

"Za'gara, Warfield won't fall, don't you get it?", Kerrigan asked, stressful. "And even if he did, for how long would it take until he decides to turn around and take the artifact back? Have you even considered the time?"

"We could have one hour, my Queen, perhaps two, given that the Terrans established themselves on the other side of Char.", Za'gara answered. "Izsha had been tracing the new Terrans with the aid of Overseers that I provided for her, and that Abathur extracted from my genetic knowledge."

"One hour or two?", Kerrigan asked. "It doesn't seem like we could do much in one hour or two, with all those guns..."

"We could, my Queen.", Za'gara assured. "If done correctly, we could succeed in this battle."

"You put too much faith in a plan too unlikely to work.", Kerrigan replied, getting to her feet and closing in on the Brood Mother, stopping by the access ramp of the cargo hold. "First, Warfield has been for years in that commanding-a-war business, we're practically two novices. Second, even without the artifact, Warfield has enough guns to hold the place without needing to worry, just having to hold until the artifact gets back, charges up and roasts us all to hell. Third, unless you're suggesting I use the Nydus for fast transportation, there's no way I can be in one place and then in another, much ahead of the ship carrying the artifact."

"Perhaps there is no need to, my Queen.", Za'gara said, after a while, when Kerrigan turned around.

"What?", Kerrigan asked, dumbfounded, turning back. "Didn't you say Warfield might be convinced if he only saw me by that second base? How am I supposed to be there and yet be here, leading the fight? I can't be in two places at once, Za'gara!"

"This is possible, with Zerg, my Queen.", Za'gara replied, humbly.

"Possible!?", Kerrigan asked, not understanding. "What are you talking about, you can actually clone me?"

"Not exactly, my Queen.", Za'gara answered, shaking her head.

"Then what do you mean with that?", Kerrigan asked, crossing her arms.

"It is a quite difficult to elaborately explain, my Queen.", Za'gara answered. "Yet, if you will follow me and behold what I will show you, you may be enlightened."

"Follow you to where?", Kerrigan asked.

"The Evolution Pit, my Queen.", Za'gara answered. "It is where Abathur is keeping one of them."

"One of them?", Kerrigan asked. "You're not talking about an infested Terran and Abathur did something too awful to him or her, are you?"

"No, my Queen.", Za'gara said, plainly.

"Then what is it?", Kerrigan asked, losing her patience.

"Come, my Queen, please.", Za'gara asked. "It is what I ask. There, you will see."

Seeing as there was nothing else to do, Kerrigan stepped out through the torn ramp door and stepped back into the soft, slimy, warm flesh floor of the Leviathan.

"I'm gonna waste time with this, ain't I?", Kerrigan asked, fed up.

"It is the last thing you shall waste, my Queen, I assure you.", Za'gara assured, as both the Brood Mother and the Puppet Queen walked to one of the flesh doors, that would lead to the Evolution Pit.

---

COMMANDER'S QUARTERS, WHITE STAR

Hardscape had spent time on the chair of his desk reading the file that was now at his very hands. The results of the service he recently asked Elgin McCowler to do. The file that now contained about every skeleton on the Dominion's closet, one that McCowler admitted he had help with, but only because the said contact, Lio, he called, had asked to. Something concerning credibility and such, though McCowler didn't want to believe, neither Hardscape.

Still, the file was there. It was there and it detailed, step by step, every black ops efforts to aid the Dominion in the never ending war against the Zerg and Protoss, many of them performing practices that would, first hand, be abhorred and returned with disgust by the common masses. Such were the example of Project Gestalt and Project Shadowblade, which only had one thing in common, and that was the utilization of Terrazine. Other than that, it involved different processes, from aggressive mental resocialization and chemically altering the subjects or worse, modifying the very bodies in a way so horrid, like it was with the Gestalt Zero, a lost specimen, utilizing Protoss DNA and technology. Things that Hardscape could see that had every reason to remain a secret as the backlash would be enormous, and that would cost allies and public support the Dominion could need in the future. Other than these projects, there were a number of smaller efforts that were ultimately ignored or shutdown in favor of such projects. Two examples were Operation Inhaler, which attempted to combat Zerg through chemical warfare, but became ineffective due to the fast adaptations of the Zerg specimens, and Project Steelheart, an attempt to construct and employ an expendable automated army, with it's own functional AI, in an attempt to combat the Zerg with acceptable to no losses in manpower at all, but the excessive need for resources, those who've been ignored and denied, ensured the close to equal doom as the Inhaler.

Still, despite all the pages of technical details, financial and logistical reports, scientific and military logs and many other documents, none called his attention more than the repeated mentions to a particular project particular named Second Genesis. Something that wasn't anywhere on the file that McCowler brought along. According to McCowler, it wasn't anywhere on the Dominion Network. Yet, there was the problem that McCowler didn't even bother to check on this 'Lio' person, simply trusting on him.

That would have to be looked at first.

"You simply trusted him?", Hardscape asked to Elgin, whom stood at his feet at the other side of the desk. "And you didn't even bother to check on him?"

"On the third time I attempted, Cap'n, he got all fed.", McCowler said. "He said why the curiosity on him and... If by any case I wanted to bed him."

"Have you ever thought that this Lio could be, by a chance, someone from Internal Security?", Hardscape asked. "It wasn't the kindergarten you were snooping around, after all..."

"I don' know, lad, he never told me.", McCowler said. "But he given me what ye asked, so I don' be complaining much."

"This is serious!", Hardscape roared. "We both could be in great trouble for this!"

"This Lio assured me there won't be.", McCowler defended himself. "He also said he'd call any second."

Suddenly, a beeping sound came from Hardscape's desk, getting the attention of both people on the room. Hardscape grinded his teeth, not liking that.

"Is that some sort of joke?", the Captain asked, as McCowler frowned.

Resigning, Hardscape simply pressed the button flashing as the intercom opened, connecting the Commander's Quarters with the Bridge.

"What is it?", Hardscape asked.

"Sir, we're getting a transmission from an untraceable source.", a male voice came through the video. "Audio only."

Hardscape only glared for a moment at McCowler.

"Put it through.", Hardscape said.

"Well, well, well, well...", suddenly, a flanged snazzy voice, yet like if it was distorted by electronics, spoke through the radio. "McCowler did his job right, d-didn't he? Good boy. Just don't mind if I don't have a cookie..."

"Lio, I presume...", Hardscape said, coldly.

"Quite correct, Captain Hardscape.", the voice, Lio, said. "And I presume it was you whom ordered our Irish friend to get looking for skeletons in Mengsk's locker, right, right, right? But wait, why to presume when I can be sure, Captain?"

"Who are you?", Hardscape asked, stressful. "What do you want?"

"Straight to the point, huh?", Lio asked. "I was hoping to have a little chat, it's been too much of a while since I had a conversation..."

"So what have you been doing all this time?", Hardscape answered, with an incredible sarcasm. "Fishing a lot?"

McCowler had a burst of laughter he tried to stifle in his mouth, but it was simply too funny.

"Nice joke.", Lio deadpanned. "And answering your questions, Captain, I'm me. And I want what you want. That simple."

"And what would it be that, Lio?", Hardscape asked back, with some irony.

"Answers.", Lio answered. "An enigma solved, a charade unmasked. Though I thought you'd be like the others, not being as stupid as being too curious to know what Mengsk is cooking, to simply go and snoop in those files like the small brother reading the big sister's private diary. Did you know that curiosity killed more cats than men throughout history?"

Hardscape's face lost it's defiance with the words of this person. "What are you talking about?", Hardscape asked.

"Please, please, Captain, let's not pretend to play innocent, alright?", Lio asked. "McCowler may have not told me why he wanted the information, but I know you ordered it in the first place. I just got the notice."

"What the- Are you a spy!?", Hardscape asked, livid.

"No, and, just so you know, I'm not working for the ISD, either.", Lio answered, in a very snide way. "If I wanted, Captain, I'd have warned the Dominion of your snooping around before McCowler even started his work. You should be grateful me and Mengsk are not exactly in good graces with each other..."

"So you're someone close to him?", Hardscape said, angry. "For a moment, I thought you were a just punk behind a cheap computer, in a garage somewhere in Augustgrad..."

Lio snickered at that comment.

"Captain, I assure you, I'm much more than that...", Lio answered. "And no, I'm not someone close to him. But let's not stray too far from the topic of the conversation. I have the answers you want, and you have the right question in your hands..."

"Second Genesis?", Hardscape asked.

"Impressive, Captain.", Lio answered, sounding amazed. "You asked that much more quicker than the others. Now, I ask, do you know something concerning that particular project?"

"Nothing more than the name.", Hardscape asked, glaring at McCowler. "And McCowler says he couldn't get anything of it..."

"But I couldn't, Cap'n!", McCowler exclaimed, insulted.

"Be quiet!", Hardscape ordered.

"Captain, Captain, Captain, you could order him to search the whole Black and White Opses up and down, out and inside every trouser and skirt, and he'd still fail, fail, fail.", Lio said, coldly. "And that's because it's simply not there. Something so important wouldn't be in a place so obvious for everyone to try and take a snoop, even if it's well guarded..."

"Where it is, then?", Hardscape asked, stressful.

"In a clear lesson that you should expand your gaze.", Lio said. "Let's forsake the Dominion security and start looking in other places. Beginning with Moebius Foundation, a legitimate research group with an apparently clean record, but a history just too turbulent, akin to a Rollercoaster..."

"Why Moebius?", Hardscape asked.

"Please, Captain, just listen.", Lio said. "Listen and accept the story of a foundation that, prior to the end of the Brood War, a company that once reached it's glory was as imminent to find it's downfall and eventual, natural extinction. But then, six months following the disaster that the battle of Char Aleph was, the foundation was bought and financed by the Terran Dominion, at the very last possible moment."

"As I recall, the Crown Prince was the one whom bought the Foundation.", Hardscape said.

"Publicly, that is true.", Lio said. "But, privately, it had been receiving financial injections and, let's put it this way, solutions to remedy it's deplorable situation. Solutions for new, potential research had suddenly bred out of nowhere, solutions the Foundation blindly followed, and now leads them in the position they are today."

"And I can presume Second Genesis is one of these solutions?", Hardscape asked, concluding.

"Quite correctly, I'm afraid...", Lio answered, apparently smiling at the other side.

"And can I get the information concerning this project there, then?", Hardscape asked.

"I'm also afraid it's not so easy, nor simple.", Lio said. "The security Moebius developed for it's systems it's much more than what McCowler can handle, and he can be easily traced back. Besides, the information that you may find may be incomplete."

"Incomplete!?", Hardscape asked, upset. "So why should I look there!?"

"If you want the truth, Captain, it's the only way you'll find it.", Lio answered.

"Like if I was going to easily trust your word...", Hardscape said, all bitter.

"Well, mister Hardscape, I asked McCowler to take a leap of faith and he did.", Lio said. "Look what he's brought you. Now it's your turn, Captain. To do, or not to do, hence the question, question, question...", he added as he let out a chuckle in the end.

Hardscape simply frowned for a moment, staring at the communicator on his desk and taking deep breaths as he considered the option.

"Well, Captain?", Lio insisted.

"I'm thinking it over.", Hardscape said, rashly.

"I think you already did...", Lio teased. "You just won't admit it. You really, really, really need my help, don't you?"

Hardscape, frustrated, slammed his left fist on the table and took a heavy breath.

"How do I get this information, then?", Hardscape asked, all bitter.

"You will need to look for someone with a certain set of talents, Captain.", Lio said. "Talents beyond those of your hacker. Fortunately, I know of one with such."

"And who is it?", Hardscape asked.

"He is currently stationed on the colony of New Babylon, in Cruxas III.", Lio said. "Look for the codename 'Turk'. My only advise is that you watch out for him, he has a reputation for being too undisciplined and liberal for his own kind..."

"How do you know that?", Hardscape asked. "You worked with him?"

Lio let out a chuckle.

"I studied with him.", he said. "I'm sure you'll recognize him too, if you've seen the news. At least, I hope you do watch the news, being in the position you are..."

After that, another beep was let out as the radio remained mute ever since.

"He went off, Captain.", the male voice, from the bridge, said then. "Should we call back or trace him?"

"Negative.", Hardscape said, after a brief pause, pressing the button and deactivating the intercom.

"Okay, Cap'n, the crapper just got more smellier...", McCowler said. "And he said you'd know this 'Turk' lad... Do ye, by any chance?"

"Of course not!", Hardscape retorted, tense. "How am I supposed to know someone whom I haven't met in the first place!?"

"Well, ye followin the lead or not?", McCowler asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll have to ready the coffin too...", Hardscape complained as he pressed the button of the intercom again, connecting to the bridge.

"You have called, Captain?", the male officer asked.

"Have the Helmsman set course for Cruxas III.", Hardscape ordered.

"Sir, we have no assignment related to that planet.", the officer protested.

"Just do it, Number One.", Hardscape said.

"Affirmative. Warming Warp Core now.", the officer replied.

---

Meanwhile...

"What the hell is that?", this was the very first question Kerrigan had ever done the moment she entered the Evolution Pit, with Za'gara, and had seen a very new type of creature unlike any she had seen before, being attended by Abathur as he analyzed it. The chamber, other than that, seemed to have it's normal commotion, despite the fact there was a singular Infested Terran, who wasn't Richter, whom was watching the access to the deep section where the Colonel and his 'men' were.

The creature, clearly, was Zerg, like the rest, though it's appearance was what disturbed the most. The head was alien and insectile, with six eyes, a flesh orb in the forehead and a vertical toothed mouth with limbs in it's chin, neck and shoulders. The body, from the upper waist, was seemingly humanoid, with alien arms and hands, with three fingers and too thin to, apparently, ever pose a threat to anyone. The chest was purple and scaled and the belly seemed to show the vertebral spine, decorated by a line of muscles in the edges that reminded the vertical mouth. The back was filled with pustules divided by a set pf spines that ran alongside the back of the creature.

What was more disturbing was the appearance below the waist, a mingled mess of scaled flesh, with orbs and pustules everywhere and that seemed more slobbering and meant to keep the creature immobile rather than allowing to walk, but the flesh, with a small tail behind it, dragged itself like a slug, leaving a light trail of purple mucus behind it.

"This, my Queen, is a Changeling.", Za'gara answered, as Kerrigan and the Brood Mother walked up close. "A shape-shifting Zerg. One of the strains you have personally overseen it's development, one year prior to our return to the Terran sector, at the beginning of this war."

"Shape-shifting?", Kerrigan asked.

"The Changeling utilizes a protoplasmic substance, my Queen, in order to twist it's form and appearance.", Abathur explained to Kerrigan. "With such capacity, it can disguise itself into a form resembling a Terran, or even a Protoss."

"It can disguise itself?", Kerrigan asked, before staring at Za'gara. "You mean you want to use one of these things to disguise as myself? A copycat of me?"

"That is the intent of the Changeling, my Queen, yes.", Za'gara answered. "To look like someone else, to hide in plain sight, be it as a Terran, a Protoss or a Zerg. We have mostly utilized Changelings as an informational method, to collect and exploit any weaknesses within our enemies' holdings."

"But it can be easily found.", Kerrigan said. "Harkonnen has systems capable of discerning real Terrans from these things."

"The intent, my Queen, is not to infiltrate Harkonnen, but to deliver a false impression to the Terrans of the other stronghold that you are attacking them.", Za'gara said. "Although when, actually, it's naught but a Brood Mother, myself, who is coordinating the assault."

"And you expect that this will help us in the assault?", Kerrigan said.

"This can aid in forcing General Warfield in moving the Xel'Naga artifact.", Za'gara said. "Should you, my Queen, and by you I mean the Changeling, be seen in the second Terran stronghold leading the assault, this can force the Terran General to move away the artifact from his stronghold, allowing us to attack the fortress."

Kerrigan simply looked for a moment at the slobbering Zerg creature. She felt some light of hope come up on her. Perhaps there was a chance... Yet, she shook her head.

"No.", Kerrigan said, in denial. "No, Warfield's just too smart to fall for that. And he'd even suspect, even if 'I' was seen bare and in the open. It's just too obvious, even for him."

"And yet, my Queen, he would not bear to stand still as the Terrans at the second stronghold fall by the minute due to the assault.", Za'gara said. "He will want to do something."

"I doubt it.", Kerrigan said, coldly. "And he will suspect, seeing that I'm there but the Leviathan's still here."

"Then this can lend credence to his suspicions.", Za'gara said, realizing something. "If Izsha approves, my Queen, we can lift off the Leviathan and fly in the direction of the second stronghold. Then, after a few moments, we start the attack on the second stronghold, leading Warfield to believe you are actually striking that emplacement, when we turn around and strike Harkonnen itself."

"We wouldn't have time to land and unload, Za'gara!", Kerrigan protested, angry. "The artifact may be away, but Warfield will only have to unleash a nuke on us the moment we're seen."

"We can lift off with the Leviathan empty.", Za'gara said. "A hive cluster established somewhere close to it, where the attacking force can await for the hour to strike. We could do it in caverns, up close, to prevent Terran thermal scanning, if necessary."

Kerrigan could easily see Za'gara's strategy, though it was too obvious, had some shred of sense, as it consisted in fooling the General in making a move, and even acting to provide legitimacy to the case. Though, too, she hesitated a bit because of the same, explicit obviousness. It seemed too ridiculously easy and simple, even for Zerg.

"But it's just too easy.", Kerrigan said, dumbstruck. "And, again, too obvious, Warfield wouldn't fall for that. He could even let out a scan to check either my thermal body or even my Psi Index..."

"Fortunately, my Queen, this can be easily imitated.", Abathur said, suddenly.

"What do you mean, Abathur?", Kerrigan asked, looking at the Zerg geneticist.

"When you have designed the Changeling substrain, my Queen, you have accounted for the possibility of mental psionic scans performed by the Terrans' psionic Ghost agents.", Abathur answered. "The Changeling can emit an impression of psionic capacity to lead Terrans to believe that is an actual Terran being, not a simulate."

"So even if he scans, he'd think I was there?", Kerrigan asked, shrugging her forehead in disbelief.

"That is the intention, my Queen.", Abathur said.

"But Warfield will notice, don't you both get it!?", Kerrigan said, fed up. "Especially if I'm just standing up a rock and doing nothing but looking!"

"The idea is to be simply seen, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "General Warfield can be easily fooled to believe you are not fighting, but commanding the Zerg. The Changeling can even press the temple at the head, to have Warfield's belief in the false scenario."

Kerrigan simply paused for a moment, attempting to consider the plan that Za'gara constructed. It seemed too easy to fail, but it still held a potential Kerrigan had not accounted for. Of course, given she didn't know of the Changeling strain until then, obviously another information of all that which was lost with the firing of the Xel'Naga artifact.

And the worse was that it didn't even sound like a strategy, but like a theater play where the wrong timing or acting could make the curtains fall, exposing the whole scene and having Warfield realize it was all a ruse. The worse could be if the foul move was done too early, giving him time to move the artifact back or not even move it out, at all.

And it all depended to a creature that could easily be discovered, even if it managed to make as a perfect imitation of Kerrigan as it could. Something that depended on a creature that could behave erratically, it didn't even seem it'd work.

"And that's the best you did, Za'gara...", Kerrigan said, letting out a sigh. "It has everything it needs to get wrong."

"Not if it is done in the correct way, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "With the correct acting, at the correct timing."

"Doesn't even sound like a sound strategy.", Kerrigan said, staring at the Brood Mother.

"It is not, I confess.", Za'gara said. "It is, as you once stated, years ago, a bold move. Perhaps too bold. But it is better than nothing I could conceive, thus far."

"Better?", Kerrigan asked, raising her eyebrows. "You call a plan whose main focus is a simple creature better?"

"The risk, should it not be effective, is minimal, at best, but the return is highly potential.", Za'gara said. "If this plan does not work, we can still run or prepare for the worst. However, if it does, we may have a fighting chance and accomplish a victory thought impossible. A great feat."

"You're being too optimistic, Za'gara, you know that?", Kerrigan deadpanned.

"Perhaps, my Queen.", Za'gara said, humbly. "Perhaps I have a vision..."

Kerrigan simply stared at the Brood Mother for a moment before she closed her eyes and shook her head, letting out a sad sigh.

"You haven't learned a damn thing...", Kerrigan said, lightly disappointed.

Za'gara then bowed and looked below.

"Then forgive me, my Queen, for my failure.", Za'gara said, sadly. "Still, will you at least consider the potential of this scheme?"

Kerrigan simply looked at the Brood Mother, for a moment.

"You said it can take the artifact off Harkonnen, right?", Kerrigan asked, coldly. "But what of the other defenses? What of the Bombard Turrets, the artillery, the land mines, the base turrets, the air force?"

Za'gara closed her glowing eyes.

"I...", Za'gara hesitated. "I am still to plan something concerning these, my Queen..."

"Somehow, I was certain you were.", Kerrigan said, disappointed, as she turned around to leave the Evolution Pit. Za'gara was left alone, with Abathur behind, still tending to the Changeling.

"Damnation...", Za'gara cursed. "An entire hour of production of stratagem wasted..."

"I tend to disagree, Za'gara, out of an individual opinion.", Abathur then said, behind the Brood Mother, with his deep monotone voice. "The stratagem, developed based on logical research of Terran psychology, carries in itself a potential."

"And what do you know of the concept of warfare, geneticist?", Za'gara asked, turning around, with disdain.

"In a profound point of view, my knowledge is non-existent.", Abathur said. "From a technical point of view, however, I understand that warfare derives in more than the application and use of material resources to defeat the opponent. In several cases, it involves an application of psychological reactions to confuse and misdirect opponents into actions that are expected in a stratagem. Your stratagem to relocate the Xel'Naga artifact has a very strong psychological potential that can directly result in a physical probability for success."

"Yet our Queen is not approving of such stratagem, small creature.", Za'gara said, coldly.

"You forsake that our Queen was stripped of the majority of her mental memories, so much as her physical and psionic conditions.", Abathur said. "Perhaps the failure is not in the concept of the stratagem, but in our Queen's incapacity to understand the potential this strategy can affect in the coming assault."

"It seemed she understood it, Abathur, and yet she has not accepted it could be effective.", Za'gara said. "How can this be explained?"

"By doubt, un-knowledge and what the Terrans call their uncertainty in effectiveness as 'lack of faith'.", Abathur answered. "Traits that are exclusively Terran. And our Queen is of Terran origin."

"As unfortunate as it is...", Za'gara said, with a small tone of anger. "Perhaps, if oversee something in the stratagem, I may do something to convince our Queen to consider the stratagem..."

"I am afraid you do not need to conceive anything further, Za'gara.", Abathur said. "What is necessary, now, is dependent on our Queen. On her approval."

---

COMMAND CENTER, DOMINION SECONDARY FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - DOOM HAMMER
DEAD END MOUNTAINS, CHAR

The sight of the nightly sky of Char, with the sight of one of the purple, either Eris or Ate, was what decorated the otherwise fiery landscape of the Dead End Mountains, a collection of endless towering rocks, forming spikes of some type that tethered into the skies above. A large ocean of lava, on the other side, lightened a bit above anything close by, even the supposed coast, actually a cliff tethering below. On some of the rocks, small strains of lava ran down to the ground, lighting up some of the broken crags on the afar entrance of the mountain. Actually, the Dead End mountains hardly reminded an actual mountain, but a semi circle with a steep entrance and exit above, surrounding a small circle of ground that was mostly comprised of cracked ground still running with strains of lava, accessing the small plateau that the Doom Hammer fortress, of the Terran Dominion, was being laid upon. A geographic position mostly stable, though unreliable too, according to some men, because of the lava. Old tales from some soldiers, whom fought in the very First Great War, told that the Dead End Mountains actually formed a volcano, filled with boiling lava in the center. That was before a massive earthquake shook practically the entire southern hemisphere of Char, with enough strength to crack and collapse the volcano atop of it, covering the lava above it and almost shutting it down. The cracked rock towers were told to be remainders of the volcano that remained on their feet.

But none of the history of this place was what interested Prescott Maddox at the moment. What interested him were two things. The first was the construction of his stronghold, where the scaffolding for the base of the Primary Operations Command facility could be seen, as well as the first set of front walls and the gate, whom was still to be completed, as the construction crews worked their pace. The Doom Hammer would extend like a namesake, starting with the cable, by the very coast, where the P.O.C. was practically shielded from aerial attacks and impervious to flanking, leaving only the choice to either circle the volcano and try to hit through the coast access, where a number of Missile Turrets and Gun Batteries would welcome the trespassers, or through the very front door, where the invaders would be welcomed with the same anti-air defenses with the addition of massive artillery, minefields and gun emplacements. For the moment, the artillery was being provided by Siege Tanks in Siege Mode, spread across the temporary installation of Terran structures, that included a Planetary Fortress, landed in the basin and close to the ramp leading to the large, though narrow plateau.

The second thing was when Warfield would accomplish his orders and finally get done with that trinket. He was as much of a traitor as was a weakling, that's what Maddox thought. Since when did a General have to depend on an alien artifact to defeat one whom clearly could be killed with a simple bullet? Since when did someone whom managed to lead five separate invasions against the Swarm need to rely on pirates and criminals? The explanation, perhaps, could be found in his age. Warfield was already past the sixties, thus he must have been going soft and senile on the matter... But not less cunning on his paranoia to not let go the alien toy, saying he couldn't hold against the Zerg without it, even though he had an enormous amount of guns, soldiers and batteries to deal with the numbers of the Swarm.

Maddox often wondered to himself why Mengsk had the idea to bring in Warfield from his retirement to fight the Zerg. If it wasn't to impress the media and calm the masses, like he did when he made the announcement, he couldn't know what else was there... Not to mention Warfield, himself, had the most terrible of all diseases, the one most hated by any political body. Sentimentality. Feelings that should have been stomped clean, with resocialization or indoctrination, were still present and prevailing in the General, he whom abandoned the Confederacy after the nuclear bombardment of Korhal IV. Such feelings were useless and had no place in the modern military of his Emperor.

Duty. Loyalty. Obedience. Strict, direct obedience. Those were the values the Dominion was interested in. Those were the traits he got indoctrinated with, since his resocialization, his fate so much as that of all those UED prisoners of war, captured after the reclamation of Korhal. Now, he was something different. Something more loyal.

Maddox's apparently stern and strong face remained that way, overlooking the only entrance to the Dead End Mountains, the only access for any strike to occur. He was pratically safe, unlike Warfield, whom was exposed to aerial agressions from practically every direction. Not to mention the very front entrance was wide and enough to launch a thick attack force, even with all the artillery that Warfield had.

"General Maddox.", a voice called on Maddox' intercom, a male one.

"What is it?", Maddox asked, in his arrogance.

"Transmission, sir, from Harkonnen.", the voice said, no doubt coming from one of the Command Centers or the Planetary Fortress. "They say it's urgent."

"So they have finally moved the Xel'Naga artifact to the Marathon?", Maddox asked.

"Please, sir, hold on...", the voice requested. "Negative, they haven't moved it out of Harkonnen, yet."

"So they're under attack?", Maddox asked, with a bad taste in his mouth.

"Negative, sir, they don't seem to be.", the voice replied.

"Ignore them, then.", Maddox ordered.

"Sir, are you sure-", the voice started asking.

"I made it strictly clear to that imbecile Warfield that he's only to call me if the Xel'Naga artifact is aboard the Marathon, and that I intend to keep this word to the latter, officer!", Maddox interrupted. "And as I've made my word, you are to keep it. Is that understood?"

A brief pause than proceeded.

"Affirmative, General.", the officer said. "Will ignore. What of the annex file?"

"That goes away as well.", Maddox answered. "No doubt, it must be a scientific video with claims the artifact is unstable and such. Excuses, if you ask me, from Warfield to keep the damn thing. I can't even imagine what he does with that thing, that is not adult related..."

"Yes, sir.", the officer replied. "Done."

"Good.", Maddox said. "If they persist, officer, keep ignoring them. They will learn, one way or another, that orders are orders and they are to be fulfilled. Am I strictly clear on this?"

"Crystal, sir.", the officer said.

"Something else, then, officer?", Maddox asked.

"Negative, sir.", the officer said. "Coming off now. Base out."

Only silence proceeded then, as Maddox continued looking forward as people around him worked around the clock. For one way or another, the orders would be obeyed and accomplished.

One way or another.

---

LOWER HALLS, DAELAAM ARK
CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR

Tire and a bit more of pain got up again as she walked out of the War Chamber, this time, having been cleared with the blessing's of N'arkham, to now proceed at what Biblos called the obstacle track, though still with those ball shackles on, activated and weighing down on her. For two more times she had stopped and rested when ordered, though this time she talked almost nothing to the Zer'atai. Though it was unknown if Protoss could sweat or not, it was clear that Lasarra had worked an entire day in developing her strength. Still, however, the day was still far from finished. Now it would come a greater challenge, and it was clear Lasarra would have a disadvantage from beginning to end. Biblos wanted this, no doubt. More humiliation to follow, in attempt to get up on her. Still, she remained strong and willing for more, for the Praetor's soon to be seen distaste. She got used to the pain and the weight, her anger struggling to keep her in check.

She's seen as she arrived then, through the teleporter pad, at the lower decks of the Daelaam Ark, to see the hall ahead of her was occupied with Zealots, all in a line and crowding the hall. She walked ahead then, her head tall, as she waited behind the line that towered ahead of her, those warriors looking all ahead, not bothering to look behind. The hall, golden like the rest, was pretty well illuminated, though there wasn't much she could see. Then, gradually, the hall and the warriors began to mumble more and more silently until there was a dead mute silence everywhere around the Initiate.

On the other side of the line of warriors, Biblos could see and look sideways in the face of each and every one of those warriors as he slowly walked across that hall. Lasarra could her the heavy steps so much as everyone, but she did not have to guess to whom those sounds she heard belonged to.

"I am not seeing her.", Biblos said. "She was supposed to be here, after the ordeal in the War Chamber. Perhaps she took heed to my warning. Perhaps she has stepped away."

"I have not!", Lasarra suddenly exclaimed, from behind a line of warriors that Biblos turned to, slightly behind him. The warriors, by that branch of the line, noticed the short female behind them and opened room for her to pass, carrying the ball shackles many came to remember during their training. Her hands were clenched into her fists, as she stared high into the Praetor whom put her in that state in the first place. The hall was golden, like the remainder, but now she could see there was mostly an open avenue, and that several of the Zealots from the War Chamber were lining against the walls as well as the side accesses and intersections. She could see one or two were carrying a staff of some sort. For what reason, Lasarra could not know. Ahead of her, she could see some of the warriors in Zealot suits in the middle, all standing tall and at their disposal close to an energy line, that glowed high in blue.

"Your stare still does not frighten me, Initiate.", Biblos said, coldly. "Do you feel wearied? Do you feel tired and in pain?"

"No. A warrior knows none of that, Praetor.", Lasarra answered, coldly, continuing to stare at him.

"The simple 'No' would have sufficed.", Biblos said. "And what do you know about a warrior?"

"As little as I can fight.", Lasarra said, struggling to fight the weight of those wrist balls. The warriors chuckled in a small mockery around her.

"Good that you admitted it.", Biblos said, coldly. "Your stare is one of anger, Initiate?"

"It is, Praetor.", Lasarra answered. "Though 'tis not what you believe it is."

"You dare presume what I believe?", Biblos asked, in a threatening tone.

"Of course not.", Lasarra said, bitterly. "I am no mind reader, Praetor."

It was when she heard mumbling instead, one of either surprise or shock at the audacity of the Initiate. Still, a victory small. Biblos approached her, then.

"Insolence, with me, is as rewarded as praise.", Biblos said, threatning. "You will gain nothing with either or both. I will not warn, the next time. Stand by the energy line, behind all others."

Lasarra then walked forward, as she stood behind those warriors whom now looked forward, to the track they would race ahead. Biblos stepped ahead, circling the warriors and Lasarra herself, until he stood at the left corner, by the supposed finish line.

"Warriors. Initiate.", Biblos started, coldly. "Many, like you, say a warrior is someone whom kills for his people. This is not wrong, but it is not right, either. A warrior is a fulcrum of several balances, that tether to one another in an unending struggle for one to weight more than the others. Yet, if this happens, the balance falls. And if the balance falls, so does the warrior. That is why the warrior endlessly practices with exhaustion and commitment, to upkeep the balance. He hones his strength, he controls his anger, he tempers his impulses, he enforces and absorbs discipline, he sharpens his mind and he heightens his senses. In battle, he has no hunger but for action, no thirst but for blood, no fear but of dishonor through cowardice or failure. Yet, he is not foolish to run straight to the jaws of death, he is not arrogant or proud to fight a difficult struggle alone, nor allows himself to be easily taunted, but he also will not admit tales of cowardice or treasonous actions. That is why, when a warrior trains, he swears an oath. An oath to be as strong as the mountain, as flexible as the river, as agile as the wind, as dangerous as the fire."

Lasarra stood by as she listened and tried to absorb the lesson that Biblos was now teaching her, staring at his direction, though the Praetor couldn't see it. The others, however, looked forward. The Initiate had to confess, for one of his kind, he knew how to speak things that otherwise would be called boring.

"Here, you will train your endurance, your strength, your speed, your agility and your instincts.", Biblos said. "The course ahead is long and will have all sorts of obstacles possible. One of you is certain to not pass this training."

Lasarra's fists only clenched further at the insult.

"There will be only one turn to this race.", Biblos said. "The first ahead of all others shall be free of the remaining burden of training, but will dedicate this day to focusing his concentration on the Khala. The last behind of all will train twice as harder than the others. The remainder will not change anything."

Biblos then walked slowly to the right corner of the room. Lasarra could notice some of the warriors were focusing, like if they were getting ready to run. She could feel like it was the time.

"Go.", Biblos said. It was the last word on the matter, as Lasarra and all others took off and ran. Though Lasarra was the only one whom ran normally, even with the balls weighing down on her. As for all the others, a flash of blue energy trail erupted as the Zealots flashed forward at a speed twice than that Lasarra was currently running, but only for a brief moment. Still, it was enough for all of those warriors to move a bit far ahead of the Initiate. A technique that many Zealots learned with the passing of eons from those whom fought in the Brood War, the ability to turn their bodies into pure energy, if only for a few microseconds, to move at lightning-fast speeds and approaching enemies who'd think they were at a safe distance, particularly Terran Marines, whom had the audacity of pulling back and back as they fired against the approaching warriors of the Daelaam.

Lasarra widened her eyes at the ability of those Zealots to Charge, and how they used it to gain an edge too early in the race. All the meanwhile there she was, with those balls shackled and hurting her wrists. Biblos' insult was more of a fact, as he did it on purpose, no doubt. He was aware that the initiate would not succeed in her race and would arrive last. Her day would be a burden far greater than the others. Curse that bastard Praetor, she thought, curse his arrogance and his apparent abuse, curse the velocity of those Zealots whom were more prepared and experienced than her in the matter, and curse herself for her weakness. Those were the curses that now ran on her mind as she ran with all the strength she had to the end of the first straight track, turning left by a corridor. She could see the intersections were blocked by transparent, circular containers made of glass, filled with hexagons and energy running along those glasses, no doubt borrowed from the scientific expedition to that world for the purpose of the exercise. They alone denoted the limits of the track and cut off any hopes for shortcuts or any alternative routes any of the warriors or Lasarra could take.

Ahead, she could also see the first set of obstacles set ahead of her, no doubt positioned to form slaloms of sorts to test the agility and speed in curves. It was practically empty, as she could see the warriors ahead have already made it through. She didn't stop, however, as she arrived and made the curves of those slaloms, also made from the containers. Though, too, the slaloms seemed rather too wide for the running type. Nothing happened, by then, as there was a small section of clear road ahead and then a turn to the right, also clear, then another to the left, where she could see the very first of true obstacles ahead, a large stack of chests piled one atop the other, like crates piled by Terrans in their installations, with a passage in the middle, forming a fork of a sorts. Doubtless this was made for those people to climb upwards and proceed on, to train their strength. As she approached the chest stack, she jumped as high as she could, managing to get a hold on the edge of the chest, though the weight of the shackled balls made her loose her grip, making her fall. Growling, she jumped again and she grabbed the edge with more strength, putting all her strength she could muster to climb those crates, growling in pain of the weight the balls caught up. It took more than ten seconds before Lasarra could finally get her forearms, to pull herself up on the crates. Her body tired and in pain, she got on her feet when she reached and followed the forked passage, where it cleared on the other side, where she could then see a depression below, with several hexagons where people must step upon quickly. She then dropped from the stacked chests and followed to the depression where she started jumping in the hexagon pillars, where some of them starting to descend to below and she nearly lost balance, noticing that she'd need to be both fast and precise, though she was tired, too, to do so. On one step, she lost her balance and fell, her hands only being quick to brag one of the hexagon pillars that didn't fell. Her three hearts were beating too quickly as she struggled to hold her grip and eventually rise to that hexagon.

Returning to above the hexagon, she knew that she would never make it, she was already too far behind. She got on her feet and started hopping over the other hexagons, all but wanting to finish the course and pay the price.

'You are not concentrating.'

The female voice had caught Lasarra by surprise, by the time she managed to hop the remaining hexagons and come to the other side. She closed her eyes and decided to continue. She couldn't believe it was happening again, like if in the chambers during her initiation wasn't enough. She turned to the right, seeing that the corridor was clear and decided to proceed forward.

'Listen to me. You need help. I can help you pick up the pace, but you must listen.'

"I will not fall for that again...", Lasarra mumbled, angry, as she continued to run through the corridor.

'I am not Laelna, Lasarra, and you are not in the chamber.', the voice said. 'It is me, Naviri. I can sense you are far behind.'

"How?", Lasarra asked, coldly. "How can you sense what I feel and how I am?"

'You forget my connection to the Khala, Lasarra.', 'Naviri' said. 'When we met, we unexpectedly formed a bond with just that conversation.'

"I find it hard to believe...", Lasarra said.

'Just listen, Initiate.', Naviri said. 'Normally, I would not do anything, given Biblos lessons are always meant to humiliate his students, but he now has crossed the limit. He manipulated those hexagon pillars so you would fall on purpose!'

"I, for one, never expected of him to play fair...", Lasarra said.

'He never does, but it seems he has made a special case with you!', Naviri said. 'So you should not play fair, either. I can help you in utilizing the Khala to fortify your vigor and charge, like those Zealots do.'

"If I am going to finish, Naviri, even in failure, I will do it in fighting fairly!", Lasarra said, firmly.

'Now is the worst of all times for you to have a streak of pride!', Naviri exclaimed. 'You have not been in the punishment he places those whom fail the track. Believe me, I went there, before. These balls you carry are nothing compared.'

"But he shall notice, should I do something!", Lasarra said.

'I am making my effort to shield my mind from his reading, but the barrier will not last long.', Naviri said, a bit tense. 'Now, listen to me. You can access the capacity to return your strength should you concentrate yourself enough on the Khala. Concentrate, and you will manage to make it through.'

"'Tis a bit hard for me to concentrate, given the pains I now feel!", Lasarra exclaimed, angry.

'Hold the chains to the balls, then.', Naviri said. 'Swing the ball and hold them with your hands. This should relieve the pressure bringing down your wrists. Other than that, you have to fight through the pain.'

"I cannot simply do this!", Lasarra shouted.

'You can, Lasarra.', Naviri said. 'The barrier has fallen! I have to go! Remember, concentrate!'

"What?", Lasarra asked, as she ran a bit more forward and she turned left, to notice another set of challenges like the first one, coming across a very long corridor, where she could see new obstacles. She could see a set of electric barriers filled with electricity, letting out arcs of shock that no doubt were meant to electrify those whom passed through. One meant to test the resistance. The next, far ahead and past the barriers, was another set of chests piled above, forming a new pathway, though this one was not meant to be seen.

Growling in pain, she advanced forward and running, trying to concentrate herself on the teachings of the Khala, though these ones only covered, for her, the most basic of accesses, the highest being only available by those above the Khalai Caste, Templar or Judicator. She attempted to recite the words of the Khalai in her mind. Still, it was a bit difficult to concentrate, but Naviri told to persist on the effort. That was before she reached the first arc, whose lighting touched her body and let out an immense quantity of pain upon her body. She nearly fell to the ground, to her knees, before the second arc. Angry and fighting through the pain, Lasarra got up from the ground and crossed the second arc, more pain coming up on her from the eletrical current, making her fall. She looked above to see there were four more arcs before it would end and she'd approach the new chest stack. She attempted to fight through it, and cross the third arc. The moment she crossed it, she fell entirely to the ground, the pain and tire simply being too much. Simply being beyond her capacity to get up. She simply could not get to her feet.

'Lasarra.'

A new voice had come up on her mind. A male one, one which seemed to be more wise. She attempted to come up on her feet, but the tire was already too much and exhausting, something those arcs had seen to it.

'You are in pain. You must concentrate. Only then, can you return to your strength.', the voice said again.

Lasarra simply shut tight her eyes in the pain that now afflicted her, to the point of almost fainting.

'You must concentrate, Lasarra. You must allow us to help.'

'I... cannot...'

'Try and repeat with me. I fear not death...'

'I fear... not death...'

'For the Khala is my strength.'

'For... For...'

'Try, Lasarra. Do not stop now.'

'For the... Khala... is my strength.'

'I fear no enemy...'

'I... fear no... enemy...'

'For our strength is eternal. Say it.'

'For our... For our...'

'Continue. Do not stop.'

'For our... strength is... eternal.'

'Again, Lasarra. Do not stop.'

'I fear not death... For...'

'Continue.'

'For the Khala... is my strength. I fear... no...'

'Persist, Lasarra.'

'Fear... no enemy...'

'Persist.'

'For our strength... is eternal.'

Suddenly, Lasarra felt something envelop her body and she could barely look at it. All she could see was a mist of blue, beginning to form around and touch her body.

'Continue. Repeat again, Lasarra.'

'I fear not death, for the... Khala is my strength.'

The mist, then, started to touch her body. A strange current started running along the Initiate's skin, one that stung like a million micro-needles into her body. However, it didn't even seem to hurt, but only putting pressure. The feeling was enough for her to open her eyes further and stare at the mist that seemed to surround her and her alone.

'What is this...'

'Do not stop, Lasarra. Continue. Keep repeating.'

'I fear no enemy... For our strength is eternal.'

Lasarra could feel herself being pulled out of the ground as the mist only grew stronger. Her body now felt motionless and touching nothing as she floated and turned so it'd be on her feet. The energy current now seemed to be neutralizing the pain that now afflicted her body. She could look into her arms and hands and notice that, running through her skin and glowing in microscopic crags, the energy was running, like if it were reinvigorating her muscles.

'Do not stop, Lasarra. You are managing it, continue.'

'I fear not death, for the Khala is my strength.'

'Continue.'

'I fear no enemy, for our strength is eternal.'

The mist only intensified, as it's glow, too. As she floated a few meters above the ground, she could feel her body was feeling much more better than before. The pain was ceasing and so was the tire, her vigor only increasing. Lasarra was as dumbstruck as impressed, her eyes widening as she could feel the very touch of the Khala, unlike what she experienced before, in her reciting and praying prior to her rest, after those hours crafting Khaydarin Crystals for jewelry used in the Protoss suits and armor, or weaving the garments those same Protoss used. This was something more stronger, more powerful, more healing. Lasarra could feel her strength increasing as well. So was her vigor, renewing by the moment.

'Do not stop, Lasarra. Again.'

'I fear not death, for the Khala is my strength. I fear no enemy, for our strength is eternal.'

'Continue.'

'I fear not death, for the Khala is my strength. I fear no enemy, for our strength is eternal!'

'Again.'

'I fear not death, for the Khala is my strength! I fear no enemy, for our strength is eternal!'

'One more time. You are almost there.'

'I fear not death, for the Khala is my strength! I fear no enemy, for our strength IS ETERNAL!'

Suddenly, a flash erupted from Lasarra, though it didn't damage anything or release a shockwave of destruction, as the mist then evaporated and faded away. Lasarra, slowly, began to descend to the floor until her feet touched it. As she then started to notice, she realized practically much of her pain and tire were practically gone, seeming her strength was very much the same it was when she first entered the War Chamber. Even the ball shackles, that were weighting heavy upon her, were not taking such a higher toll, now, like it was when she first came to hold those trinkets. She was impressed as well as hopeful, her spirits renewed. It was something that would allow her to survive the very training. It seemed, in her personal opinion, it was why those whom trained to become Zealots could be able to survive those ordeals and train to become the feared warriors of the Protoss race.

Though the truth of it was far more wider than Lasarra's simpleton view. The Khala wasn't simply a sort of a religion where admiration and utmost respect for their shrines, temples and objects of worship like the Khaydarin Crystals was welcome and obligatory. The Khala was based on a philosophy that maintains a communal psionic link between all those whom practiced it, an empathic link lost when the Xel'Naga abandoned Aiur and the Protoss to their fate of destruction by the Aeon of Strife, but was rediscovered when Khas himself encountered the Khaydarin Crystals, that allowed the Protoss to reunite the link, negate the destructive self-hatred through the embracing of collective positive emotions and put an end to the Strife, beginning the Second Age. The Khala, and those whom practiced, only required a certain loss of the person's self in benefit of all others, but the loss could also be drastic. It was such that drove some Protoss, whom would become the Dark Templar, to sever their nerve cords to cut the empathic link. Others that were severed from the Khala, like the Tal'Darim, often did it through the use of Sundrop, a powerful drug that often provoked mental instability, with prolonged use.

The depth of the empathic link varied much according to the personal choice of the practician, but it is known that the deeper the immersion into the link, the higher the restoration and reinvigoration of the individual. That is what much explained why memebers of the Templar and Judicator Castes immersed deeply several times a day, so much or even more than those of the lower Khalai. It was often necessary, too, so the highest of psionic warriors, the High Templar, could unleash their Psionic Storms or sacrifice themselves, reluctantly, to become the large and feared, though brief, Archons. The strength of the Khala, thanks to most of those whom embraced it, was what could grant the strength to continue and fight on as well as protect the Protoss from assimilation by the Zerg. The psionic link was the explanation, as the infestation process required one assimilated to be forced into the link with the Hive Mind, and the deep attuning with the Khala mostly denied such assimilation, which only led to the death of any Protoss assimilated. In the end, the Khala was not only something that could deliver hope, but something to sustain such hope. It could deliver the strength and the power for it.

Lasarra gazed at the strength renewed she now had as she then looked at the remaining four arcs with the electricity running across them. She now felt she could pass through them, fighting through the pain by passing between the electricity spurted out by each side of the arcs. Preparing herself and gripping her hands on the chains of the shackled balls, as Naviri suggested, she then ran across the four arcs, each jolt of electricity striking her in quick succession as it hit her painfully, while Lasarra grunted and then yelped with pain as she crossed the final arc and fell to her knees. Not willing to give up yet, after she recovered, she started running again, starting to climb the chest stacks and then running past them, where she then could see a new obstacle past it, a series of hexagons, in six rows, though these ones had no depression below to fall to. Still, Lasarra was well aware this could be a trap in itself, one meant to test the thinking speed, as well as body and mental instincts. Some of these other hexagons had glowing blue circles while others had not, clearly distributed to space one another in-between.

Getting down from the second chest stack, Lasarra stepped forward and tried to wonder what would be the best path, even knowing that she could know the correct path, meaning this would have to be through trial by error. Lasarra would have to take a risk. She first stepped into the first hexagon ahead of her, and then the second, to the left, and nothing happened to her. The third, by the right, however, started to let out a violent burst of steam, meant to hurt Protoss that stepped into it. As she predicted, a trap, but fortunately she stepped back without losing balance. She then stepped into the hexagon to the far right, and nothing happened, and then she stepped into the one to the left, where this one blew up the steam right below her. The violent, hot burst, made her quickly jump forward, burning hot in pain, though there was no fire burning atop of her. She then jumped the final row, passing through it as she resumed the run, turning left into the newest corridor, a long one with no obstacles, just the racing, where she started running to end the ordeal, aware of her failure.

However, when she made past half of the long corridor, she also saw something she never expected, especially at that point of the track.

A Zealot, a last one, that was limping, though it was also attempting to run.

Lasarra was surprised, her eyes widening. She believed every last one of them were supposed to have finished by now. Perhaps she wasn't that far behind. A small shred of hope picked up as she started to put her strength in the racing, ignoring the pain and the tire that were returning, especially after crossing four sets electrical arcs and getting over a steam vent. The Zealot ahead did not seem to be running, at all, no doubt believing the Initiate was far behind. However, the sound of coming steps as well as shackle chains making a noise called the warrior's attention.

"What?", the Zealot said, before he turned to look behind, seeing an Initiate hurting to try and reach him. "No! NO!"

Immediately, the Zealot started running farther and farther, ignoring the pain in his right leg, as both raced to reach the final curve to the left. Lasarra put her strength to the test, at least making an effort to try and see if she could get ahead of this one, but the eons that this warrior already trained as a Zealot could only make him run faster, though he wasn't using his Charge, as he could hardly concentrate. Lasarra found it odd, as Zealots were supposed to fight through the pain to concentrate, unless something was truly wrong with his leg, beyond simpleton pain.

"You will not prevail Initiate!", the Zealot roared, though Lasarra ignored. "You cannot!"

The space practically remained the same, only diminishing very little until the supposed final turn to the left, where the warriors and the energy line, the finish line, were on the await. He roared the same as she had, he fighting through the pain in his leg as she fought all the pains she suffered thus far, to that point. Both continued to run, only a medium space separating both, as they reached the line of warriors approaching both.

By the time they arrived to the line of warriors, like the crowds applauding those whom raced, though this one had no applause, the Zealot had turned his attention to looking behind, to see if Lasarra was coming closer, when suddenly something came up on him. Something Lasarra could see. A staff, from one of the warriors whom hit him on the belly, and that made the Zealot lose his speed at the sudden pain. Now the Initiate could see what those staffs were for and what they meant.

Just because the race was at the verge of ending, it didn't mean it was going to be easy. A reprieve, even less.

The space between both Lasarra and that Zealot diminished as a new staff was headed in her way, to her very head. Reacting quickly, she put her arms forward and blocked the impact as she continued running, reminding of the lesson Biblos taught her early. The lesson to not simply stand still at the coming aggression. A second staff had hit the Zealot in the leg, unfortunately the injured one, making the Zealot almost trip and eventually fall down. A second staff came up on Lasarra, by the chest, and that she blocked again, but a third was quick to hit her on the head, making her yelp in pain, but she continued to run. The other Zealot was quick to get on his feet, by the time a fourth staff hit Lasarra in the leg, and it hit hard, making the Initiate fall. Seeing the energy line a few meters ahead, he started to run again, though Lasarra could notice that the warrior had gotten on his feet and she immediately got on her feet as quick as she could, jumping to hit the energy line, finishing the matter. She fell a painful fall, though she did not regret it.

Unless she was mistaken or Biblos would not judge fair, she had not won the race, but she had not finished last either. She got free of that punishment.

"On your feet!", Lasarra heard a gruff voice, roaring livid, doubtlessly belonging to the Praetor. "NOW, INITIATE! ON YOUR FEET!"

Lasarra immediately started picking herself up, standing tall before Biblos, whom now stared her with raging looks.

"YOU!", Biblos said, mad. "What have you done!?"

"Praetor, I-", Lasarra started.

"SILENCE!", Biblos roared. "I cannot believe what I saw! Sixty sunturns of training! Sixty sunturns for nothing!"

Lasarra could see her victory wasn't a welcomed sight by the Praetor, whom was now pointing almost directly at her and shouting accusations.

"You have brought shame upon yourself!", Biblos said, threatning. "Shame upon yourself and those beside you! Have you any idea of the humiliation you cast down on all of us!? Have you any idea of the dishonor you brought!? Losing to an Initiate!? How do you explain this, Anaris!?", he concluded, as he slowly pushed Lasarra aside, revealing the Zealot, who could barely stand.

"I faltered, Praetor.", Lasarra heard an answer behind her, she turning around to see the injured Zealot answering the Praetor's accusations. "I faltered at the final obstacle."

"And you failed!", Biblos shouted, furious, pushing Anaris back with such a violence that he fell to the ground. "Even when you could have concentrated and Charged, you have let her surpass you! One more tired and utilizing shackled balls could come ahead of one of the Proudest, and escape punishment meant for her!"

The Initiate's eyes widened, noticing the Praetor was not even ashamed of admitting he wanted her to suffer twice what she had in the beginning, all for being an Initiate.

"And now, due to your faltering, I cannot do anything and thus will have to treat her with honor, even when she has claimed none!", Biblos shouted.

"Praetor, I-", the Zealot started, resigned and ashamed.

"BE SILENT!", Biblos roared, striking down Anaris with a punch, making him fall down. "This, Adept, is the type of weakness that cost the life of many warriors! This is the type of weakness that could bring the death of those around you! The hexagon vents were meant to test reflexes, reflexes that now I see you have not developed! If you expect to continue on active duty, you will eliminate this weakness of yours!"

Lasarra watched, with a mixed look of horror and fear, as the Adept was explicitly berated by the Praetor. The other warriors, however, looked at the scene and didn't seem not a bit disturbed. They could not. Not with softness and weakness one of their own, one whom earned his place, displayed before one whom was still to earn her own place.

"Not only this, Adept, but you shall cleanse yourself of your shame, as well.", Biblos said, coldly. "You will spend the night in the containment chamber, after you have trained. You will pass the moonrise with the pain of your leg, for your carelessness, and your body, for the training as you struggle to remind who and what you are! May this be a reminder of your dishonor!"

With this, the Praetor turned to step back a bit as he then stopped and turned to face Lasarra.

"And you.", Biblos started, coldly. "What have you to say?"

"Did you actually plan to have me train twice, even after all you have made me pass through?", Lasarra asked, trying to contain herself, anguished.

"I make the questions, Initiate.", Biblos exclaimed, rashly. "And yes, that was the intention. Your muscles are weak and your bones are fragile, clearly requiring strengthening that would only begin to bear fruit within two sunturns. The first day of an Initiate is supposed to be the worst conceived. And now, I cannot perform so, for you earned the right to train the same as the remainder. You have proved to be stronger."

Biblos, however, started walking closely to her. Lasarra's three hearts started beating faster again, with each step the Praetor approached the Initiate.

"Though such strength was not supposed to have appeared, even though you reached far the track.", Biblos said, coldly. "How do you explain what happened in the middle of the electric arcs?"

"I...", Lasarra started, hesitating. "I cannot explain properly, Praetor."

"Why? Are you afraid?", Biblos asked, bitterly. "Afraid that I will punish you? You were not supposed to be able to reinvigorate yourself through the Khala, yet I saw you have succeeded to! How!?"

"I...", Lasarra said, a bit frightened, thinking of Naviri, whom was somewhere, afraid of having to denounce her. "I have stolen, a few sunturns ago, a scroll containing some of the teachings. I could not understand at first, but... but I remember."

Biblos simply stared Lasarra for a moment, before he unleashed a blow on her belly. She yelped in pain.

"Do not ever do that again, Initiate.", Biblos said, coldly. "There are many things a Zealot trains for, one of which is knowing when one is lying. Like you are doing now, with an invented story! You do not look like a thief, you were not educated to be one, so you could not act like such."

Lasarra, recoiling in regret of her answer, resumed her straight posture.

"That leaves only one theory.", Biblos said. "Someone has told you such and showed you how. And this could only have come from one among us.", he added, before he turned around to face the warriors, in both lines.

"The responsible will have one chance!", Biblos exclaimed, staring at all warriors. "Unless he or she steps forward, I will have Lasarra point the culprit, under torture, if I have to! Therefore, he or she whom acts by the back of all, reveal yourself at once!"

However, all remained silent, simply staring at him. After a while, as he walked a bit forward and then a bit back, returning to Lasarra.

"Very well.", Biblos said, loudly. "Let it be warned, however, that what she suffers will be of your fault!"

The Praetor then grabbed Lasarra by her nerve cords, starting to pull her around with him.

"It falls to you now, Initiate.", Biblos said, coldly. "The responsible will be revealed. Whether under few or much pain is only up to you. The more you defend, the more you shall hurt! So, whom is it!?"

Lasarra said nothing, only staring at the Praetor, whom forced his grip on her nerve cords, as she started looking at the warriors. Biblos pulled her harder as he approached his head to hers, staring at her with a menacing look.

"Do not force me to do this, Lasarra.", Biblos said, quietly, close to her. "I can and I will, if I have to! Now, whom was it that helped you!?"

Lasarra's eyes ran rapidly as she began to search the male and female warriors in her sight, all looking at her, like if they were threatening to do something to her, should she run her 'mouth' off.

"Talk, Initiate.", Biblos ordered, before, shortly after, he yanked her nerve cords again. "Talk, NOW!"

Lasarra still remained quiet, as her eyes could not find Naviri, though everyone was now staring at her. Behind her, a Psi-Blade sound was heard.

"You brought this upon yourself.", Biblos said, disgusted, as he prepared to strike.

"Praetor!"

The voice, out of a sudden, a female one that came behind, made so much Biblos turn around and deactivate his Psi Blade, as well as Lasarra, whom was free of the grip Biblos once had. There, both could see a single female Zealot stepped ahead, facing both.

"If you find somewhere to strike that Psi Blade, Praetor, then you need find no longer.", Naviri said, staring straight at the Praetor. Biblos in return, let off Lasarra and walked slowly forward.

"I would have expected this from my most undisciplined.", Biblos said, coldly. "But you, out of all!? You were stronger than this!"

"As you were, Praetor!", Naviri retorted. "But altering the hexagon pillars was too far!"

"It was never supposed to be fair for the Initiate, Naviri!", Biblos shouted, angry. "You should know this better than anyone!"

"Her current state is fragile!", Naviri replied, angry. "Her recovery, if she fell, would take an entire worldturn!"

"So you assume responsibility, Disciple?", Biblos asked.

"I do, Praetor.", Naviri said, coldly. "With all due glad."

"Then you know what comes as your 'reward'.", Biblos said, coldly too. "N'arkham shall be notified."

Lasarra slowly widened her eyes, realizing what would occur.

It'd be the same, if not worse, that she had come through.

"Teor, Semazen, take her away.", Biblos said, turning around.

"Praetor, I must intervene!", Lasarra exclaimed, alarmed, stepping forward.

"This is not your decision, Initiate!", Biblos retorted back.

"Lasarra, do not stand in the middle of this!", Naviri exclaimed. "I accept the punishment, Praetor."

"I cannot accept this!", Lasarra exclaimed, stepping forward.

"You will, Initiate!", Biblos ordered. "Unless you would like to savor the punishment reserved for her, you will accept this!"

Two of the warriors whom were on the line walked forward, preparing to escort Naviri to her fate. Naviri simply stared at the Initiate as she pleaded her, with her look, to not do anything. Lasarra, however, would have none of that, especially after helping her like she did.

"Then I will accept the punishment!", Lasarra exclaimed, in defiance.

Biblos then stared at the Initiate, walking slowly towards her.

"You accept?", Biblos said, bitter.

"Lasarra, no!", Naviri shouted.

"On one condition, Praetor.", Lasarra said, facing the Praetor. "I take Naviri's stead."

"And do you believe you can simply sacrifice yourself for her?", Biblos asked.

"You wanted to punish me, Praetor, succeeding in this track or not.", Lasarra said, coldly. "Even when I suffered enough in your hands, you want to punish me. So be it, then. I shall offer myself. But Naviri shall not pay the price."

Biblos and Lasarra simply stared at one another for a moment.

"So much loyalty...", Biblos wondered, coldly. "Admirable, Initiate. But, as I stated, this is not your decision! Now, return to your position! Teor, Semazen, take Disciple Naviri away!"

"She will stay, Preator.", a new voice ordered, from behind the warriors. Biblos turned around to see Executor Raseac and his aide, Centurion Ilmig, had entered the hall, staring at both. "And nothing shall occur to either the Initiate or the Disciple."

Biblos seemed quite livid with the decision, as Lasarra and Naviri were surprised. No one, or nothing would attract the Executor's attention to a warrior's training, unless it was something truly important.

"Executor!?", Biblos asked, furious. "Do you realize what you are doing!?"

"Only too well, Sargas.", Raseac answered. "And this is my order."

"The law and rules sacred were just broken!", Biblos protested. "As the Protoss dared interfere with the Kalathi, this Disciple dared to interfere with the learning course of the Initiate!"

"We know of this, Biblos.", Raseac said, apparently calm. "I could feel Lasarra's deep attunement with the Khala. One much powerful, even for the standards of Initiates or experienced warriors like yourself. It was what brought me, here."

"Then you know, as well as I do, the proper punishment must the applied!", Biblos exclaimed, angry.

"And Naviri would have attained it, until I have heard Lasarra's emphasized defense of the Disciple.", Raseac replied. "Even though it is the first day for her amongst the warrior caste, she has earned much."

"For disobeying a rule strictly set!?", Biblos asked, upset.

"For defending one whom otherwise did not need, nor want such defense.", Raseac said, firmly. "She was willing to pass through a pain worse than that of her initiation, all for the sake of one whom helped her. This is a clear and most powerful proof of loyalty ever conceived, Biblos. And thus, such loyalty must deserve the respect earned."

"What of the fact she reinvigorated herself through the Khala, Executor?", Biblos asked. "Not only she violated a clear rule, but also broke a sacred tradition!"

"The same was said of Tassadar, Biblos.", Raseac said. "He whom saved us all also broke a tradition, to never search for the Nerazim nor work alongside them to defeat the most dangerous threat our fallen homeworld has ever faced."

Raseac then turned, looking at all warriors.

"When Tassadar departed from Aiur, to rescue Zeratul and his Dark Templar on Char, he betrayed the law of the Khala, the edict of the Conclave and the trust of those whom would support him.", Raseac said, out loud. "For his deeds, he would be executed and his name ill spoken, and for all due reason. Only a few followed him, not for duty, but for belief that his work could save our people, what has clearly happened. Those few chose to abandon their duty to the Judicators and thus follow one branded a traitor and heretic. Now, they are heroes revered, for their extraordinary search for the salvation of our people. Loyalty, warriors, is not only about being loyal to a government or your own species. It is not only about being loyal and obedient to those whom lead you. It is also about being loyal and faithful to one another. You all step into the same ground, speak the same tongue, you travel the same distance, you all, together, shed the same blood. If one falls in disgrace, we are all disgraced. If one finds glory in victory, the glory and the spoils must be shared. If one valiantly defends her comrade in arms, all must join together in support. As one footwear, we walk, as one Psi-Blade, we strike. It takes eons for many of you to understand, but true warriors, revealed and whatnot, readily understand what it is to be loyal. For she would not allow one like her to suffer an injustice so great, nor begrudge her comrade the fruits of a victory well earned, however small it is. And it is for this loyalty that Lasarra and Naviri shall, by my edict, the least expected of all, be left unharmed."

Raseac then turned back, looking at Naviri, Teor and Semazen, whom only stared at him.

"The three of you, return to your positions.", Raseac ordered. The trio then nodded and followed suit.

"And what of the Initiate, Executor?", Biblos asked, bitter. "How is her violation justified?"

"She had not finished as the very last, Biblos.", Raseac answered. "She had earned her place."

"Even utilizing a means Initiates should not know yet?", Biblos asked. "If they knew, otherwise, they would grow arrogant!"

"Lasarra.", Raseac called, and the Initiate looked at the Executor head-on. "Was this your first true experience with the empathic link?"

"It was, Executor.", Lasarra agreed, nodding.

"And before, when you had none, did you believe you could surpass this track?", Raseac asked.

"No, I did not.", Lasarra said, truthfully.

"And when you gained this chance, did you believe you could change something?", Raseac asked.

"I did not believe, Executor.", Lasarra answered. "All I desired was to finish the course, predicting all others had already passed. I did not expect for Adept Anaris' condition."

"And how you were when you received such power?", Raseac asked.

"Tired and in pain.", Lasarra answered, lowering her head. "I did not believe I would finish the course. When I reinvigorated, however, and felt my body return to it's willing self, it was like if a light had surged in the darkest clouds of a storm."

Raseac simply then looked at her with utmost respect.

"I do not believe this is any sign of arrogance, Praetor.", Raseac said. "Her mind is clear, her heart is true, her soul is in peace. And when you were on the verge of finishing the course, Initiate, did you want to utilize the Khala again?"

Lasarra hesitated a bit.

"I did not knew how to Charge, Executor.", Lasarra answered. "So I had to effort myself. But, even if I knew how, I felt that prevailing like this, as myself, without any power, at all, was more fair and satisfying."

"Satisfying for whom?", Raseac answered.

"For myself, Executor.", Lasarra said, plainly. "For I had put effort, not depended on anything else."

Raseac simply looked at Lasarra for a moment, before facing Biblos, whose face was one of dislike.

"She deserves this feat, Biblos.", Raseac concluded. "Allow her, so."

Biblos himself tightened his eyes in shame of the decision.

"And Anaris?", Biblos asked, all bitter. "Is he to be spared, too?"

Raseac simply looked at the fallen Zealot, still on the ground.

"Unfortunately, his punishment is welcome and necessary.", Raseac said. "His faltering can have deadly consequences, and has brought disgrace upon himself. You may do with him as it is required."

"Very well.", Biblos said, coldly, turning to the downed Adept. "Get on your feet, Adept, and enter formation."

Slow and painfully, with the limp on his leg, Anaris started to follow suit.

"In other matters, the settlement and the weather shield are soon to be established.", Raseac said to the Praetor. "Very soon, you will be able to descend and perform your duty. You may return to your duties now, Praetor. En Taro Adun."

Raseac turned around, as he then stopped when he started walking, turning to face Lasarra.

"As for you, Initiate, the moment you are finished with the training today, I would to speak to you, in my quarters.", Raseac said. "That is all."

Lasarra's eyes widened a bit, recalling the last time she had been to that place. Raseac then crossed the line of warrior's to the right as Biblos approached her, looking at the Initiate menacingly.

"Do not believe you shall escape from this unscathed, Initiate...", Biblos threatened. "Did I not inform you earlier concerning insolence?"

"You did, Preator.", Lasarra answered, a bit nervous. "But I did not expect for the Executor's interference in the matter."

With nothing but a grudging look, Biblos then stepped away from the Initiate.

"Back to the War Chamber!", Biblos ordered, as all warriors immediately started to disperse. Taking the opportunity, Lasarra tried to see on Naviri, but the Disciple did not care to look back at the Initiate. Perhaps she did not like the intervention or did not want to talk of it for a moment. Perhaps it was best if she would visit the Disciple afterwards.

However, she now got a bit more worried concerning Biblos. Such an interference with his intent to punish Naviri was something he clearly would not forget, and forgive even less. And it would all fall down on the Initiate, for her attempt in saving one whom helped see through the obstacle track. Though, too, the truth was that Naviri only suggested it. She could do naught but wonder whom it was that suggested her to concentrate and recite those words. The voice seemed firm, like a young one, and yet it was wise.

The questions were put aside as Lasarra now worried what would come next, on the War Chamber, as she stepped to one of the teleporter pads, especially concerning Biblos. Because nothing ended with pain, nor sorrow. None but that of the Zealot, Anaris, whom was duly sentenced by his failure. Another question came up on her mind, as she wondered how and where he could have injured his leg, for him to be limping.

So many questions. So many doubts.

But by the moment the teleport pad activated and transported her to the higher decks, there was nothing more to ask. There was no one to answer, down by the empty corridor track.

---

ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK PEAKS, CHAR

Her steps had been going too slow since what happened by the Evolution Pit. Each and every step was soft, but Kerrigan didn't actually mind if she were stepping on the flesh of the Leviathan or in the barren rock of that hellish world. Her mind had been busy, working as she tried to wonder how to better attack Harkonnen, if there was any chance, at all, of bettering the odds, with those defenses and the Xel'Naga artifact, that, no doubt, Warfield must have gotten warmed up and ready to fire the very moment she took a single step closer to the facility. But nothing had come up so far.

One thing that did not leave her mind, though, while she walked, was that plan that Za'gara conceived, to utilize a shape-shifter, a Changeling, as she called it, to distract Warfield and have him transport the Xel'Naga artifact, like if the Brood Mother was confident that Warfield would fall for that. Warfield simply wouldn't. At least, that's what Kerrigan presumed, even though everything could be done to give him a reason she were 'truly' there, like lifting off the Leviathan and departing in Warfield's plain sight, or having the Changeling act like if 'she' were controlling the Zerg. It was so obvious and so ludicrous, a plan too simple for a high-ranked General, servant of Mengsk, to fall to. And there was every factor that could make the plan go south. It didn't seem like if it were going to work, and yet... It was well planned, even for one whom barely was at her baby steps in strategy, like Za'gara was. Oh, well, Kerrigan was very much at that stage, too, not knowing how to command Zerg but a few days ago, when Izsha sent her to that place to 'train'.

The flesh door opened ahead of her as Kerrigan stepped into the Nerve Center, where Izsha was focused on the matter more than ever, on that Fortress from where those fighters duped her long enough for the Dominion to get what they wanted, the very information that Kerrigan was back and command the Zerg Rock 'N Roll once again. No doubt she must have been keeping an eye to see if there was a nuke launching or an alien energy gathering up, meaning Warfield was charging up the artifact. Kerrigan, personally, so much as every Zerg aboard and close to the Leviathan, hoped it wasn't the latter. At least the Zerg could escape a nuclear blast, with a lot of running and that small, usual spice of luck.

"Anything?", Kerrigan asked, as she approached the edge of the Leviathan's mouth.

"Nothing.", Izsha deadpanned. "Or he took the chance and loaded the artifact while you were briefing us on the damn thing, or he didn't at all..."

"Za'gara told me she was finished with recovering feral Zerg, before she paid me a visit.", Kerrigan commented. "How many?"

"Too few, if you ask me.", Izsha said. "Thirty-five thousand."

Kerrigan's eyebrows raised as she looked at the halfling.

"You call that too few, Izsha?", Kerrigan said.

"In Zerg numbers, yes.", Izsha said. "We think a medium force estimates half-a-million, at least."

"Still, it's good enough to sustain an attack on Harkonnen.", Kerrigan said, looking back at the fortress.

"Not in the way we're attacking.", Izsha said. "A single way in, capable of funneling our minions, a lot of air defenses with enough ammunition and rockets to take down a hundred Mutalisks, artillery and flamethrowers, the things Zerg hate the most... At least, if we could surround the fortress, we could have the Zerglings form climbing mounds, like in a very old movie I remember seeing. There was this bug species that couldn't get past the fences of the outpost, freaking thin, by the way, and the bugs, Arachnids, I recall, then decided to pile on one another to form a mound, in which others would use as access."

"That wouldn't be a bad idea.", Kerrigan said. "At least to get past the main gate."

"Wouldn't work either.", Izsha deadpanned. "All the Dominion has to do is blow up an artillery or bring in flamethrowers to roast the mound."

"Warfield wouldn't be that stupid to fire a round and risk damaging the gate.", Kerrigan commented.

"But the gate can resist some flames.", Izsha pointed out, ironically.

Kerrigan let out another sigh. "Damn...", she cursed. "And I'm out of ideas..."

"And who isn't it?", Izsha said.

"Only Za'gara got an idea, so far.", Kerrigan said. "I'm not sure it'll work, but I decided to ask your opinion."

"The Brood Mother had an idea?", Izsha scoffed, in mockery. "Frightens me more than a nuke..."

"Nah, I didn't it was that big of a thing, actually.", Kerrigan said. "Besides, it's just to move away the Xel'Naga artifact, not deal with the defenses. Warfield can easily hold while the thing comes back, if it works like she thinks it will."

"And what it is, out of curiosity?", Izsha asked. "She wants to sink the plateau, at the cost of Nydus Worms?"

"No, it's more about Changelings.", Kerrigan answered. "She wants one to pose like me while she first strikes the other fortress, on the other side of Char."

"A copy of you?", Izsha asked.

"She thinks it will distract Warfield and force him to move the artifact out.", Kerrigan answered. "I, personally, didn't buy it."

"Have you told her Warfield could easily notice?", Izsha asked, raising an 'eyebrow'.

"She thinks that, if we act right, even moving the Leviathan and such, he might fall.", Kerrigan replied. "Hardly a plan, huh?"

"A tad stupid, but lifting off isn't that a bad idea, either.", Izsha answered. "At least, if Warfield finds out, we can run."

"You mean you're gonna give that a shot?", Kerrigan asked, staring at Izsha. "I thought you said leaving was not an option."

"And I thought, when you said we should run, you meant out of Char, with Warfield still standing and strong. Well, there's not many ideas, so it doesn't hurt to try.", Izsha replied. "How big is risk?"

"She says it's minimal, but the return, if done right, is greater.", Kerrigan said. "She says it depends on the actions and timing. It's more of a theater play than a strategy."

"From what you learned, and this was transferred to me, too, part of the war is making your enemy do what you want him to do.", Izsha said. "Confuse him, making him think he's taking the right step, when he's actually slitting his throat."

"What, you became the military philosopher, now?", Kerrigan joked.

"Truth be told, this came to work when I picked you up on that dustball.", Izsha answered.

"What?", Kerrigan asked, her attention caught.

"You must have seen our Leviathan, right?", Izsha asked, raising an eyebrow. "At least, how it was hurt?"

"It was night time, Izsha, I could barely see any wounds, if there were any.", Kerrigan deadpanned.

"Then let's try a different question.", Izsha said. "Before I picked you up, the Dominion knew where you were, right? Didn't you think it was a little bit strange, how no backup or air support to tear down that Dropship were showing up in time?"

That very question raised up a light on Kerrigan's mind.

"Yeah...", Kerrigan mumbled, impressed. "I even remember reading the mind of one of their Marines, complaining of the backup's delay to get to the platform..."

Kerrigan then stared at Izsha as she raised her eyebrows.

"That was you!?", Kerrigan asked, dumbstruck. "But how did you manage that, especially with the whole Dominion fleet on Verhoeven?"

"Well, those people wanted something to fire at.", Izsha answered, smiling. "So I gave them."

"What- You engaged the entire Dominion fleet?", Kerrigan asked, approaching her a little. "But how you're still alive, if you managed that?"

"You can thank luck and Mengsk's laxity on that.", Izsha said, looking at the Harkonnen fortress far ahead. "That imbecile had four years to prepare and expand his military, and yet he didn't do it. He didn't even get stronger weapons, on how pathetic the fighter and Battlecruiser shots were. The only ones that did something were the Yamato Cannons."

"You're outright insane, I'll give you that.", Kerrigan said. "Never thought all Mengsk had to do was to fire a nuke or something?"

"Well, here's the catch: He didn't bring any nuke along.", Izsha commented.

"So that was his screw-up?", Kerrigan asked.

"Don't blame him, little girl.", Izsha said, letting out a chuckle. "He and the rest of the fleet came to Phaeton knowing they'd only face a band of pirates and the security of the research lab. We only made a surprise, showing up and then showing off..."

That talk, however, also brought up a question on Kerrigan's mind, one that had to be already answered.

"Wait a minute, Izsha.", Kerrigan said, dead serious, staring at the halfling. "So, if you engaged the Dominion fleet... Why didn't you take the shot and killed Mengsk?"

"I was wondering when you'd make that question.", Izsha said. "Well, I was more concerned with you, and for that I needed the Dominion off my tail."

"Yeah, but if you killed Mengsk, the Dominion would be in deep now!", Kerrigan exclaimed, crossing her arms. "Never thought that?"

"Well, there was a little bit of a 'fun' factor in this.", Izsha said. "I wanted to see him rage mad at how close he was to get you and couldn't make it."

"You like toying with people, don't you?", Kerrigan asked, disgusted.

"Hey, haven't had fun in the last four years, I kind of deserved that...", Izsha said, sounding cynical.

"And you wouldn't have needed to get me, too.", Kerrigan said.

"Hey, I needed you, Kerrigan, because of the Brood Mothers, remember?", Izsha asked, deadpan.

"Maybe I would've helped you, if you did the favor of ending that son of a bitch...", Kerrigan said, all bitter.

"Kerrigan, you really think I'm an idiot?", Izsha asked, sarcastically. "I was very well aware there was no way in hell you'd join us willfully. Besides, killing Mengsk and not having anything to steer you into? That wouldn't be much of a puppeteering plan..."

"You're saying you're counting on my anger on Mengsk for your purposes?", Kerrigan asked, starting to get angry.

"Kerrigan, don't play the Saint, you fit every role in the Row but that one.", Izsha said, serious, staring at the Puppet Queen. "Yes, your wanting to get payback on the Emperor is what I counted on the most. Isn't that why I offered you this chance, in the first place?"

"Y'know what, you just made me feel like a plaything, toying with my feelings like that!", Kerrigan exclaimed.

"You agreed to be a puppet, remember?", Izsha asked. "Being toyed with is part of the job, and quite mandatory!"

Kerrigan and Izsha simply stared into one another, for a moment.

"And Jim?", Kerrigan asked. "I suppose you wanted to get him, too."

"Well, I needed a bargaining chip, something to keep you in check.", Izsha answered, coldly. "Too bad that's not possible, but, hey, his death worked just fine too, don't you think?"

Kerrigan clenched her fists in anger, not believing Izsha would simply talk of her dead lover that way, seeing like if she just didn't care, at all. She'd kill her, were not for the fact Izsha was Zerg and that her infestation probably had something to do with her issues.

"I think it's better we stop it right here.", Kerrigan said, coldly, trying to control herself.

"If you want it...", Izsha said, frowning. "Anyways, getting back in the track, the war business is much of physical issue as it's psychological. It can have an effect that seem stupid, at first, but that delivers something you'd never expect, in normal circumstances. So, this 'theater play', if it's done right, it can help us a little bit."

"But you really don't believe Warfield would just fall, do you?", Kerrigan asked, coldly.

"I don't, but you can't always know...", Izsha answered, contemplative. "If he can fall for it, who are we to complain, later? Though, if this works, you know you'll have to thank Za'gara later..."

"The thing I want the less...", Kerrigan said, in regret. "Thanking a monster hag that tried to kill me not a few days ago."

"Life is a bitch, Kerrigan.", Izsha deadpanned.

"Like I was?", Kerrigan said, sounding too ironic.

"I don't know, you tell me...", Izsha replied, frowning. "But have a little hope, at least. You get too realistic and things are sure to never happen."

"That plan will just the move the artifact out only, if it works, and we wouldn't have much time to get past Warfield's defense.", Kerrigan said, a bit sad, letting out a sigh. "Never thought planning for something like this would be a living hell..."

"Well, think of this as a school evaluation.", Izsha said. "You studied a bit, but the teacher's got you by playing unfair."

"And is anything fair on this freaking universe?", Kerrigan asked, walking forward, stepping into the rough, hot rock ground.

"Not much, I'm afraid.", Izsha said. Kerrigan, as she stepped forward, heard then a sound of rocks collapsing. She turned around to see something she never thought she'd see. She's seen Vipers pulling out rocks far and away from a section of the mountain, like cranes with loose mouths, pulling some of the boulders as smaller rocks and rubble rolled down.

"What are you doing?", Kerrigan asked, curious.

"Making an escape tunnel.", Izsha answered. "Like a condom, it's better to have it and not needing to use it than the other way around."

"Your Nydus Worms can't do practically the same?", Kerrigan asked.

"They're all busy digging to the other side of the world.", Izsha replied. "The positioning of the Terrans on the other side has given me an advantage."

"Why's that?", Kerrigan asked.

"They chose to pick up the worst of all places to stick a flag.", Izsha said, letting out a chuckle. "The Dead End Mountains. That thing was a volcano in the past, but the rocks collapsed and made it a 'safe' hole to travel inside. The people in there think they're safe, because there's not much space to maneuver in the air and the only entrance is a steep walk into the mountains, up and down. Of course, whoever's leading is not accounting for the possibility that we could dig new attack routes."

"Across an entire planet?", Kerrigan asked, amazed. "Don't these worms have a length limit?"

"Well, one stop here to set a Canal, another there, details.", Izsha said.

"Figures.", Kerrigan said. "So you're going with that plan?"

"We're gonna have to strike at the other fortress, one way or another.", Izsha said. "I'm just taking the opportunity while the moons let us."

The Puppet Queen only let out a sigh.

"I don't like this, Izsha...", Kerrigan said, a bit worried. "Funneled in, only a small time left if Warfield gets distracted, the amount of artillery, nuclear ordinance... I don't think that thirty-five thousand or more will be enough."

"It's not about 'thinking they'll be enough', Kerrigan.", Izsha said. "They have to be. Unless a miracle or a better idea shows up..."

Kerrigan simply stepped forward, looking at the facility as she tried to think something concerning the battle ahead. The problem was just the idea was simply impossible to come up, given how well Warfield set up his defense. It kind of reminded on how Raynor could easily command the battles and problems ahead of him, though it was never known if he had command experience. Still, the battle of Antiga was an example of how easily he could lead his men, even better than what Kerrigan could lead a team of Ghosts, when she served the Confederacy, and not fighting against it with Raynor and Arcturus Mengsk, once one she could believe, now a backstabber, a murderer, war criminal and a tyrant.

Those were the good times, back then, when missions at least weren't that impossible than what with the fortress in her plain sight. Where a flaw could be explored, like it was on Antiga. She reminded something she didn't want to, because it reminded her enemy as well, as both discussed the recon Kerrigan did earlier, hours prior to her meeting Raynor, in the briefing room of the secret installation the Sons of Korhal used in their struggle against the tyrannical rule of the Old Families.

---

The briefing room was quite dark, as to direct the view to the monitor holding the photographs, orbital views that the Hyperion, orbiting one of the two moons to avoid interception, had taken for the mission. Photographs of the primary Command Center the Confederate Alpha Squadron, under Edmund Duke's grip, stationed with the main Confederate officer to keep a leash on the Antigan people, whom were sparked and ready to revolt, bolstering Mengsk's numbers, especially at the eve of the Zerg invasions to the Fringe Worlds. The Command Center stationed on a large military base in a plateau, that contained a good number of gun enplacements and combat walkers, making a direct assault a hard option for the revolutionaries and impossible for those whom revolted outside the perimeter.

However, so much the local militia, forgotten like those in Mar and Chau Sara, as well as the local populace were fed up with Confederate rule, even now that the tales had spread out of the alien invasions and the massive loss of life, and the Confederacy's willingness to ignore the dangers and lockdown entire worlds. All they needed was a reason and a chance to fight, and the Sons of Korhal would soon give it to them. All there'd be needed was a single shot. A shot from a Ghost, whom would easily infiltrate the Command Center. The Confederates were clearly sloppy in the matter, believing infiltration attempts would not be possible. The very installation lacked surveillance systems, thermal-sensitive systems, motion trackers, the very works even the least sensitive Confederate installations had.

Kerrigan, who back then stood with her white environment suit and her lush, fiery red hair, looked at the screen and the information besides Mengsk. The revolutionary whom she once believed, but that would soon play his hand on Tarsonis.

"Another day, another stronghold...", Kerrigan commented, letting out a sigh.

"Unlike the others, Lieutenant, this one is quite easy.", Mengsk replied. "I'd actually call it a walk in a park."

"You're sure they'll rise up the moment the bullet hits the officer's skull?", Kerrigan asked.

"They have had enough with the Confederate goons, as they graciously said themselves.", Mengsk said, smirking his arrogant smirk. One Kerrigan got used to, so much she being briefed with him as with Confederate officers. "Trust me, Lieutenant, as you had before. This will work."

"What of that Captain you told me, Arcturus?", Kerrigan asked. "Jim..."

"Raynor?", Mengsk asked. "Yes, he will meet you and will escort you to the perimeter."

"I didn't need protection before, Arcturus.", Kerrigan deadpanned. "Besides, that escort might call attention."

"I need Raynor and his ex-Magistrate friend leading those men and having their baptism in command.", Mengsk said. "Besides, think of him as a contingency plan for any unwelcome surprises you might face on your way."

"And the officer?", Kerrigan asked. "He'll be there?"

"My informants confirm it, and I trust them. They haven't failed on me, before.", Mengsk answered, perhaps too confident, something that just didn't fit him too much, even for the Ghost. "He'll be sitting all tranquil, arrogant and lazy like a king in his castle, unaware of what it's coming to him. Something curious, in itself..."

"What, the officer being there?", Kerrigan asked, staring at Mengsk, dumbfounded.

"Castles, Kerrigan.", Mengsk answered. "How imposing they are, their importance, and how easily they can fall, if exploited right."

"Well, this is just putting someone with a cloak inside.", Kerrigan said, gesturing at the monitor screen with the photograph.

"True, but I'm more interested in the ancient ones, in their history.", Mengsk said. "Of the battles that occurred in such places, on old Earth. Of course, back then, infiltration was not very popular as it is now, leaving only the mass assault and the aid of siege engines to breach the walls and towers of such castles."

"Siege engines?", Kerrigan asked. Mengsk only let out a chuckle.

"Forgive me, Lieutenant.", Mengsk said. "Many times, I forget that you did not have an education in History, a courtesy of your former benefactors. What you must know, however, is that the Arclite Tank wasn't merely called Siege Tank because the name was pretty or it's ability to change from a tank into an artillery battery. Many say that the siege engines were all invented on the medieval age of Earth, but it's incorrect. It was on the medieval ages that the siege weapons became popular the most, amongst the common folk. The first to ever conceive the idea of siege engines were the Assyrians and the battering rams, then the Greeks with the catapults. Machinery, though primitive, but the first machinery to be purely conceived with the intent of waging war. Before then, many thought that cities and fortresses were impregnable, unless the way was open from within. Though, my most favourite, and the most historical one, in medieval terms, was the trebuchet."

"The what?", Kerrigan asked, not understanding the name.

"Trebuchet, Kerrigan.", Mengsk answered. "A machine meant for long range artillery. The very first of it's kind, before the gunpowder fever came. A machine meant to sling it's payload atop the walls and buildings of cities or fortresses, or even castles. With a good number, you could surpress the defense of the walls for days, until the wall collapsed. If, however, you wanted to hit above or beyond the wall, all you had to was adjust the aim. However, given that age was not so advanced, it had to be dismounted and packed before it could move, unlike the mobile artillery, like catapults and onagers, whom could be moved somewhere, but did not have the same accuracy, range or firepower the trebuchet had. This siege engine truly deserved it's mark in the history of warfare, Lieutenant. And it was the very inspiration of the one whom idealized the Siege Tank in the Guild Wars. Although, while it took an entire day to mount such a machine, our tank can become a cannon in at least five seconds."

Kerrigan simply stood there, listening to Arcturus Mengsk's apparently expert knowledge, seeming so small in knowledge, compared to the erudite leader of the Korhalian revolution. "Impressive...", it was all she muttered.

"I know, Kerrigan.", Mengsk said. "You should read a little concerning history, it was it's fair share of impressive feats and facts, although it also has it's share of horror."

---

That, in the end, ended up as something Kerrigan came to read about, out of her own volition, something she couldn't as an assassin for the Confederacy. By then, all she could read were military reports and files, all with information strictly controlled by the program. One of the few things she could do, free from control of anyone. For that brief moment, she felt free.

From what she read then, very curious by then what a trebuchet was like, she's seen an image that she considered to be the most messed-up machine she had seen yet, and it wasn't even metal. It was like a stationary launching machine, with a large and long wooden base below, the very front serving as the base of the weapon, with a stair close by. The base of the weapon was quasi triangular, holding what seemed to be the arm of the weapon. On one of the extremities, stood a large and seemingly heavy crate, filled with weight. On another, lied a nearly open pouch held by two strings, which, Kerrigan was insulted to know, served as the hold of the ammunition, that were either rocks or metal, incendiary and whatnot. After that, Kerrigan never complained of cannons ever again. And, given how large was the siege engine, she wondered how was the life of the poor person or persons assigned to unpack and assemble these the whole day, as well as the other way around.

She simply remained there, regretting the memories of the one she hated the most now, as she looked at the Terran fortress ahead of her. Another sound of falling rocks was heard as boulders more heavy were pulled by the tongues of the Vipers, rolling down the hill and nearly crushing a Zergling or two, whom, angry, roared at the creatures above, like if they were common people shouting a 'Hey, watch it!'. Kerrigan turned around for a moment to see progress on the work, that involved a new cavern hole opening, as Drones within no doubt used their claws, meant to pierce through thick minerals, to excavate the tunnel. So far it had been going well, apparently. She's seen then a Viper pick up one of the boulders and savagely sling it away before she returned her sight to the fortress, to continue thinking, after that brief cooling of mind. Still, no matter the effort, now the damn medieval siege engines couldn't leave her mind anymore. She silently cursed herself, as she looked at that futuristic simulacrum of a castle. Funny how it now sounded, especially that horrendous thing in the horizon, covered by walls and such, just like a castle.

It took a while before Kerrigan then looked at the fortress again and then at the Vipers, reminding the irony of it. She looked at both again, suspicious this time, because now it seemed something brewed on her mind. Too ridiculous to sound, yet too strong for her to forget. She could see the Vipers had tongues and flew along, like the cables to those pouches the siege engines used. But, unlike the weapons, the creatures could control their tongues, letting out when they wanted. They also apparently could see, though they had no eyes with them, meaning they could aim better. Aim... Just like Mengsk told her...

'If, however, you wanted to hit above or beyond the wall, all you had to was adjust the aim.'

She then looked back at the walls of Harkonnen, walls meant to contain the Zerg movements as well as shield the Dominion soldiers from Zerg ranged assaults, so much in vision as with the thick Neosteel they bore. She could see some of the artillery platforms, the Bombard Turrets, above those walls, to allow a better diameter of firing. They were exposed more, thinking they would be shielded so much in ground as in the air, with the base turrets protecting them with their fragmentation cannons. Only ranged Zerg could reach those, and this would take massive losses and time.

Unless...

'However, given that age was not so advanced, it had to be dismounted and packed before it could move, unlike the mobile artillery, like catapults and onagers, whom could be moved somewhere, but did not have the same accuracy, range or firepower the trebuchet had.'

'Accuracy... Range... Firepower...'

Kerrigan then looked at the Vipers behind, seeing a potential she didn't fathom until now. If the Vipers could see, they could aim. If they could aim with accuracy, then the strength to launch, if made stronger, could make them cover a distance. A distance safe from the range of anti-aerial defenses. And those were exposed, and walls were irrelevant to this.

Then she saw the mobility of the Viper. The tongue already provided an answer as well as the quick thought brewing on the Puppet Queen's mind. The Viper could fly, but, unlike the machine, so much as the Siege Tank, it didn't need to unpack, at all. If trouble came in brewing, it could easily turn tail and run off!

She then looked back to the very Terran fortress, those walls, those defenses, whom could reach far, but not far enough. Even to something that could strike longer than those, hopefully longer than that of the Bombard Turrets... She then reminded, again, that Vipers flied, so they could aim overhead, not only over the walls, but also what was amidst the rows... Where the other artillery, the Siege Tanks, would be... Not only those, but the trooper divisions that could welcome the ground visitors, should the front gate fall...

'Accuracy... Range... Firepower...'

Firepower... Kerrigan wondered what she could do concerning that. That was a problem. What could be more powerful and destructive, especially to make an artillery.

The moment she turned around to see the Vipers again, she noticed a green mass crawling slowly, trying to come uphill to circle the Leviathan's head to the other side. A Baneling. The sight, that took two seconds, was enough to recall the memories of that battle in the cave. The main distraction that was the battle, where the Baneling exploded. Then those others, whom busted the defenses on one of the clearings containing a major egg cluster and the land bridge leading to Za'gara's Hive Cluster.

The power of Zerg concentrated acid, that could corrode even the strongest of neosteel, if she remembered right. Firepower.

She took a final look in the Vipers so much as the Terran fortress ahead. Now she could see it! She could see the bombardment clearing those defenses, putting a fair fight to an invasion! She could see the metal corroded with the acid as Banelings rained down the sky, blasting everything upon impact and coating on their acid, not just damaging opponents but instilling terror, from both the unknown of the new weapon as well as the moral effect of the acid splashing around, making armor technically useless!

However, as she looked at the fortress, she also, unfortunately, had seen a patrol of three Vikings patrolling. Something she didn't account for. Warfield had a strong air force, ready to react. Even more with the aid of those damn base turrets and other anti-aerial defenses, the moment the aerial Zerg got in range.

'Range...'

That word boomed a bit in Kerrigan's head, before she then understood a bit. If it were out of range of the Bombard Turrets, so it'd be far away from other turrets as well. So far that Warfield would have to send the air force away from the cover. And, with the numbers of Zerg minions, the air force's numbers would clash with the flying minions... A perfect cover! Perfect so much in air as in ground! Only one way in, only one out! Where the ground forces, that Warfield would send to provide anti-air, would clash with the attacking Zerg!

A light brew on Kerrigan's mind, and it only grew stronger and stronger. Her mind was clear, then. Her thought, resolute. A vision in sight.

She had found a solution.

She then turned around, starting to walk slowly two steps and then walk faster and faster until she ran, past Izsha, whom was caught by surprise at the Puppet Queen's rush.

"Whoa!", Izsha snapped, surprised. "Where's the fire, little girl?"

Kerrigan did not answer, however, as the flesh doors to the innards of the Leviathan, where she ran inside and deep.

"Where are you going!?", Izsha asked, not understanding, connecting herself, then, to the eyes of the Leviathan as Kerrigan ran as fast as she could across the corridors. Corridors Izsha was familiar with. Those led to the Evolution Pit. Noticing Kerrigan discovered something, Izsha immediately recoiled herself back to the hole where she hanged from, starting her peristaltic travel, through the open ways where she could connect to all the chambers of the beast, to the Evolution Pit.

The running took as long as she could remember, but she didn't care. The very energy of the idea gave her the strength to run to the Evolution Pit, where she could talk to Abathur concerning the solution. There was no tire, because of the evolution Abathur gave her prior to the battle with Za'gara. By the time she arrived at the Evolution Pit, the flesh doors opened and she rushed in, meeting Abathur and Za'gara, whom was still there.

"Abathur!", Kerrigan called, sounding urgent.

"My Queen.", Abathur replied. "Your cardiac acceleration suggests-"

"Abathur, answer me something.", Kerrigan interrupted. "You can modify Zerg strains, can't you? Can't you!?"

"Affirmative.", Abathur answered, coldly.

"I want you to do something to the Viper.", Kerrigan replied. "Put a big modification on it."

"The Viper strain, my Queen?", Abathur asked.

"Did I just hear that right?", Kerrigan heard a voice to her right, as Izsha came out of the flesh hole, dumbfounded and surprised. "Why the hell would you want to mess with my Vipers?"

"I found a solution, Izsha.", Kerrigan answered, anxious. "Something to help us in the assault."

"What, this out of nowhere?", Izsha asked, not understanding.

"Abathur, I need you to give those Vipers some good strength and aim.", Kerrigan said. "So they can throw stuff at the stronghold."

"Throw stuff, my Queen?", Za'gara asked, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, Za'gara throw stuff at them, like those old medieval weapons.", Kerrigan answered. Za'gara simply looked at her, not understanding, at all. "Y'know, like the catapult or that other thing, the... The..."

"Trebuchet?", Izsha asked, trying an answer.

"Yeah, that one!", Kerrigan readily replied. "Can you do it, Abathur?"

"But why would you want to turn the Viper into a...", Izsha started, before she silenced herself, her eyes widening, suddenly understanding. "You idiot!"

"What!?", Kerrigan asked, suddenly, widening her eyes, shocked. "But I just-"

"Not you, Kerrigan, me!", Izsha interrupted, angry at herself. "Of course, it was right on our faces! And we didn't want to see it!"

"See what, Izsha?", Za'gara asked, dumbstruck, not understanding the scene.

"The solution, dammit!", Izsha retorted, smiling, her eyes shining. "Aerial artillery... And I readily took that off the list because we didn't have any Brood Lords!"

"But we didn't need them, Izsha.", Kerrigan said, excited. "All we needed was to find an alternative."

"Forgive my interruption, my Queen, but may I inquire what are you both talking of!?", Za'gara interrupted, having had enough, doubt driving Za'gara to a particular edge. "What sort of solution is this? And what is this 'Trebuchet' you continuously speak of!?"

"A very old weapon, Za'gara, that we Terrans made up, in a forgotten time.", Izsha answered. "Before we got to this Sector, hell, before we even left the Earth, in very old times, we fought one another, in castles and cities. Many thought these places were safe, until the idea for an artillery machine came in. The first true artillery. This machine, the trebuchet, stuck a projectile in a cable, that were to be launched when the weight on the other side fell down. The cable swinged itself and unleashed the projectile, that flew fast and at longer distances to hit it's target. But it was very large and very messy to set one up at the time."

"But we don't need any of that Izsha.", Kerrigan said. "If we give enough strength and a sense of precision to the Vipers, we can have them throw the load even better and faster than the wooden artillery. And at a distance safe from the Bombard Turrets, and thus of the base turrets. And, since they're airborne, there won't be a problem of picking targets or moving, if things get dicey."

"But what we'll throw?", Izsha asked.

"Banelings.", Kerrigan readily answered.

"Banelings?", Izsha asked, a bit confused. "Isn't it better... Of course! If you can't get them there, and the Terrans won't let because they fear that acid, throw them! Of how fast and flying the Banelings would be, the Dominion couldn't get them in time!"

"Exactly.", Kerrigan said. "And when they hit, because of the speed and sudden impact, they explode. Just like..."

"Artillery.", Izsha concluded, smiling. "Basic physics. And Warfield definitely won't see that one coming."

"He'll see, but he just won't believe we found something to bust him open.", Kerrigan said.

"But, my Queen, and what of the Terran anti-aerial defenses?", Za'gara asked.

"They'll be out of range, Za'gara.", Kerrigan answered. "And they cannot move more closer to hit at the Vipers."

"But what of the Terran flyers, then, my Queen?", Za'gara said. "These can approach our Vipers and neutralize them."

Izsha, then, lost her smile. "Yeah...", she said, in sudden disbelief. "She's right, Warfield can intercept them. And we can't fight them."

"We couldn't, if our flyers were to be in range of the ground anti-aerial defenses.", Kerrigan said, trying to reassure Izsha. "But the Vipers would be far out of range of these defenses. And if they're out of range and the Dominion can't fight back from the ground..."

"Warfield will only have two choices.", Izsha finished, the light returning. "Either he takes the bombardment or he'll have to move his air force far from safety."

"Where we can fight them.", Kerrigan concluded. Both stared at one another for a time, a common agreement relevant between both, their spirits higher than ever.

"Abathur, you heard Kerrigan's request.", Izsha said. "Do it. I'll get the Vipers back and starting making the Banelings."

"Za'gara, help her out with that.", Kerrigan ordered the Brood Mother, turning back to leave. "We're going to need all Banelings we can get."

"But what of the Xel'Naga artifact, my Queen?", Za'gara asked. Both Kerrigan and Izsha stopped, then. "Even if the Terran ground defenses cannot reach, nor the Terran flyers can retaliate them, the artifact can still save the fortress."

Kerrigan and Izsha simply stared at one another, for a moment. The artifact, something they forgot to consider. The power of the artifact was enough to counter any potential attack. There was still this problem to consider.

Or not.

Kerrigan then approached Za'gara, her head straight.

"That plan of yours, about utilizing the Changelings...", Kerrigan started. "If it's done right, can it deliver?"

"But I believed that you have not accepted this plan, my Queen.", Za'gara said.

"Just answer my question.", Kerrigan said. "If done right, can it do what you say it will do? Can it move the Xel'Naga artifact away, for a while?"

Za'gara simply looked at Kerrigan, briefly, afraid of the answer and how it'd provoke the reaction on the Puppet Queen.

"It is possible, my Queen.", Za'gara answered, resigned.

Kerrigan then nodded and turned to Izsha.

"Izsha, can you set a meeting, later, when Abathur's done with his work?", Kerrigan asked.

"What is it, Kerrigan?", Izsha asked.

"I think I have a plan brewing up...", Kerrigan said, confident.

Izsha could feel that confidence.

"Abathur, you have one hour.", Izsha said. "Start now. You too, Za'gara."

"I'll help out.", Kerrigan said, flexing her shoulders and her neck, turning to leave the Evolution Pit. Izsha retracted back to the hole she came from. Abathur then picked up his web to start his work and accomplish Izsha and Kerrigan's requests.

Za'gara simply stood there, dumbstruck at the scene that now unfolded, almost unable to assimilate what she had witnessed. An idea that originated from something Za'gara practically knew nothing and now her Queen, whom once refused an idea, now was willing to attempt it.

"Terrans...", Za'gara murmured, frustrated. "So chaotic, so confusing. A race one can never understand..."

"Agreed.", Abathur answered, deadpan.

---

DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - HARKONNEN
DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR

"He's refusing to answer!?"

A question every one in the courtyard could hear a furious Horace Warfield shout, as he kept a keen eye on the commotion of the Harkonnen stronghold, where preparations were being made for an attack that could come at any moment. Shouting and frantic orders for haste and decent work, all at once, were high in the air. The news were spread amongst those in the facility. The Queen Bitch of the Universe, like a boxer whom just got hit by a heavy-weight champion and rested for a while, was back for a second round. A second round where she'd no doubt hit hard. There were those whom felt the despair and paranoia reeking in the stronghold were quite unhealthy. After all, they still had the artifact, and it punched Kerrigan hard. So why would she try again, knowing that wave after wave would be repelled not just by the artifact, but by the guns of the fortress that Warfield properly prepared, with the time he had? Even so, those who fought in the Brood War knew better what Kerrigan could do, concerning getting back up. Such happened when the Overmind was tamed by the UED expedition and their use of the Psi-Disrupter. Still, despite the fact she was on the verge of losing, she got up and turned the tables. So she could, even if all were going well, as those fools presumed.

Marines, Marauders, Firebats, Reapers and many others on foot ran, running endless drills and taking battle stations on the walls and bunkers and other emplacements. Ammunition, in crates and cargo trucks, circled to stockpile in the stations to allow a fast reload when ammunition were empty. Drills for emergency scrambles were underway on the hangars and pads housing the aircraft of the facility. Such similar drills occurred on the launch silos were the nuclear missiles were now in stand-by. Every sort of simulation was now running in the P.O.C., under every possible scenario, for a rapid threat assessment. Every corner of the Harkonnen stronghold that could be searched was now under a double-check lookout, for the case of Zerg parasites or anything else were spying on the fortress, on the hopes a weakness could be found. The Hercules transports landed were on hot stand-by and being checked twice, in preparation for a possible evacuation scenario. Minefields on crucial sections and the land access before the frontal gate were being checked time and again. Positions for optimal shots were being set for the artillery, to fire a continuous and strong barrage. Vectors for aircraft to fly into and flank the main attack force were now being considered.

The message was a clear one. Si vis pacem, para bellum. If you want peace, get ready for war. In that case, it was more about the lives of those men and women whom now stood atop the Dauntless Plateau, rather than peace.

In the middle, coordinating everything or almost, was the tired old General that hardly believed that, in the event of such an urgent time, there were people not willing to communicate. Even when it was truly important, and that Prescott Maddox would definitely understand. But the last conversations seemed to have proven something otherwise, Maddox' view of the Xel'Naga artifact being moved away from Char being the most adamant of all.

"We're trying to send the damn message time and again, General.", McGrudd replied, from the radio. "Even with the damn video annexed, he just won't get it! It's like we're dealing with a spoiled child, here!"

"Keep on trying, dammit!", Warfield ordered. "Threaten the son of a bitch with firing a nuke the next time he bounces off, if you have to, just make sure he gets to see Kerrigan!"

"We're doing it, sir.", McGrudd said. "Can't we send in a transport with someone to carry the freaking message and shove it on his face?"

"Son of a bitch may order his men to shoot down the transport, for all I know...", Warfield said, frustrated, letting out a sigh. "He wants that thing out of Char, no questions asked! And right at the worst hour! And he'll nuke us, that's what's the greater bitch!"

"He'd really do that, General?", McGrudd asked, nervous. "Light up the defenses and be responsible for Kerrigan's return?"

"By the time Mengsk realizes, it'll be too late.", Warfield said, closing his eyes. "What of the drills, how they're going?"

"Stress is high in here, sir.", McGrudd said. "People are already on the edge with so much pressure, almost breaking."

"They better not, Duncan, it's with Kerrigan we're gonna deal with.", Warfield warned. "Hammer it on their heads, make them get the idea anything can come down us, even if it's harmless, if they think so. I won't be caught with my pants down, and I'll tuck everyone's belts tight to make damn sure of that!"

"Doing now, Horace.", McGrudd said. "Hope it takes some time before she tries that, it's just stupid, she knows we have the artifact."

"It'll be more on desperation, Duncan.", Warfield replied. "That might gives a little favor in the odds. Now get to work."

"Aye, sir.", McGrudd answered.

"And McGrudd, make sure to have everything refitted, especially Vikings with the afterburners.", Warfield ordered. "Have the Warhounds ready, too."

"On it.", McGrudd answered, as the intercom went off. Warfield let out another heavy breath, as he looked forward, his war face looking old, though fierce on the mountains where the beast now rested.

Where she rested, like a snake ready to give the bite, just awaiting the least expected of hours. Where she would strike with fire and fury, that was a certainty concerning the Queen of the Swarm. All that mattered was when. Or where, considering she could also strike at Doom Hammer. At least that'd give that imbecile General Maddox a lesson in listening. But Kerrigan wasn't one to run away from a fight, even though this one was practically impossible to win.

"I'm here, Kerrigan...", Warfield muttered, cold and bitter. "I'm just waiting... Your move."

---

COMMANDER'S QUARTERS - BATTLECRUISER 'AGAMMENON'

The private quarters of the Captain of the Dominion Battlecruiser Agammenon, Mitchell DeForrest, seemed like a one more fit for a Captain. The quarters seemed rather more clean and shining than the rest, despite the fact it was metal in ceiling, wall and floor. Decorations of eagle heads, pretty much like the wolf heads of Mengsk's White Star, lied on the corners of the wall as well as the flag of the Dominion, hanging behind the chair and his desk, where small glass of water rested, as well as the files of the day, a book copy of Moby Dick and a small globe decoration, the planet being Korhal IV, the very throne of the Dominion. Below the flag, the viewing window where DeForrest could look in the space beyond. The bed and wardrobe were strictly clean, polished and organized in the most metric military style possible. On one of the walls, a painting hanged in the wall, of the battle of Tarsonis, the bloodiest day conceived in the history of Man in the Koprulu Sector.

However, DeForrest was not alone on his quarters, by then. A surprise visit, in the form of the Captain of the Vengeance, Lilith Daniels, and her aide Feud Thorne, was now in his office. DeForrest, himself, was intrigued by Lilith's wish to talk to him in person. Of course, the supposed second nature was immediately put down when Thorne was at her side, making it an important visit.

"I must confess, Captain Daniels, this visit was quite a surprise.", DeForrest said, sitting on his chair as both the visitors took their respective seats. "Though I don't think it mustn't have been for something casual, I suspect."

"We'd like to talk something concerning one of your crewmembers, Captain DeForrest.", Lilith replied. "Get to know one or thing or two about her."

"Keitel, isn't it?", DeForrest asked, presuming. "I thought that issue was dealt with since the meeting on the bridge."

"Not entirely, I'm afraid, Captain.", Thorne said. "Indeed, it's much low, now, but it can escalate. We'd like to have something in line, in that case."

DeForrest frowned. "Well, if you think that's the best...", DeForrest muttered. "Fire away, then."

"What do you know about her?", Lilith asked. "Both person and soldier?"

"As soldier, not the traditional officer crap, she's one of the best in her job.", DeForrest said. "One of the best in the Valkyrie pilot business, coming from previous service. She was one of the UED expedition, four years ago. Prisoner of war, got turned to our side, the works. Doesn't falter on the job, gets it done and has the kinks for teamwork. As person, however... She's quite peculiar."

"By 'peculiar', you mean...", Thorne said, pretty suspicious.

"She acts perhaps a bit too social concerning off-duty.", DeForrest said. "Getting to know too much of people she'll get to work with. She even gets to know people by force, if needed."

"By force?", Thorne asked, surprised.

"Doctors say she has a strong social appetite.", DeForrest said. "To the point of utilizing intimidation techniques. An effect of a resocialization that went wrong when she served the UED, that's what they tell."

"Intimidation techniques of what kind, exactly?", Thorne asked.

"By what some people told me, she likes sneaking up on people and hanging a knife on their throats, when she gets the opportunity.", DeForrest said. "Just hearsay, if you're curious."

"Just hearsay?", Lilith asked. "This is serious, DeForrest."

"I wouldn't worry, Captain, she just intimidates people.", DeForrest said. "But it doesn't take a knife as her 'too friendly' behavior already does that job. Still, she's quite a nice person, once you give her the attention."

"What do you mean by that?", Lilith asked.

"She just likes to talk, try and compensate her instability as much as she can before she heads into action.", DeForrest said. "But she's no killer of friendly people, I assure you. And a good person. Just give time."

"Can I trust your word?", Lilith asked.

"Funny, I made the same question to the previous Captain.", DeForrest commented. "You can. And just give Keitel a job, it'll be okay."

"I hope you're right, Captain.", Thorne said. "Henderson's one of our best too, and we like to play safe."

"It's safe, mister Thorne, I assure you.", DeForrest said. "Anything else?"

"I think we're done.", Lilith said, getting on her feet along with Thorne. "We'll keep an eye on her, just in case. Thank you for your time, Captain DeForrest."

"Appreciated.", DeForrest said. "My door is open, if you need something..."

"We'll remember that.", Lilith said, as she and Thorne turned and started to walk away, to the access door that automatically opened. As both crossed and the door closed, DeForrest let out a sigh as a beeping sound came from his desk. He pressed the flashing button, activating the intercom.

"You've done quite well, mein herr...", said a soft, female German voice through the desk's speaker. "Your acting, your lines... I think you would deserve a reward..."

"I don't think so, Greta...", DeForrest said, sadly. "They've grown suspicious, especially after I told them of your preference for a blade. You're it was okay to let this one out?"

"Of course, mein Herr, of course...", Keitel said, letting a chuckle. "Not telling would grow a certain 'indiscretion' within this cruiser. Now they will be busy while I get my prize... and yours."

"You better know what you're doing, Greta...", DeForrest said. "I'm keeping my end of the deal, woman!"

"And I'm keeping mine, herr Kapitan...", Keitel said. "And I assured you once, since I helped you, that once der Strom has ran it's course, everyone leaves happy..."

"Ich glaube es, wann Ich sehe es.", DeForrest said, coldly, letting out a sigh. Keitel let out a chuckle.

"Do not worry, mein herr.", Keitel said, smoothly. "It will be. Also, 'ze photos will continue secure, if you wonder... Yet."

DeForrest widened his eyes as the intercom shut down and nothing had or could be said since.

---

WAR CHAMBER, DAELAAM ARK
CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR

Since the return to the War Chamber, it had never been as more moved as it could get. The commotion was high as the warriors exercised their bodies and their minds, when Biblos made questions that required memory, all across the chamber.

The exercising for Protoss was very much different than that of Terrans. Only a few things remained similar, like obstacle tracks, like the one Lasarra faced, or the long-distance running, that normally would be done rather on a planet than within a ship, as to put the Protoss in a sense of survival the classic Man versus Nature jogging alone could deliver. The Protoss, to increase their strength, often used, in their exercising, the shackle balls like the ones Lasarra still did, escalated a stack of chests like the one set in the chamber, where they raised, went down and circled around, waiting in line to escalate again, or pushed one against another in a duel of strength where no fighting was allowed, the only instrument being the hands, to force the other to the ground, akin to the Greek-Roman fighting of past times, without the fighting techniques, like two or three couples of warriors were doing as of then. Other than that, there was no flexing of muscles like the ones seen in Terran military training. There were no push-ups, no abdominals, not even equipment fit for exercising other than the stacked chests or whatever was available on the War Chamber, including the Protoss themselves. Protoss were somehow unknown and not familiar with Terran methods of flexing or exercising their muscles, not to mention the aliens felt it was better the strength was tested and then grown on something or using something, like the shackled balls, so far the only instrument for exercising.

In the middle of it all those warriors, like if they trained normally, stood Lasarra, whom still wore her shackled balls and entered again the line of ten warriors to escalate that stack again, something she was assigned to by Biblos. Her eye remained suspicious concerning the Praetor, knowing he would not forget so easily nor forgiven what occurred moments ago on the obstacle track below. Her own mind even attempted to assimilate the event herself, as well as that of the reinvigoration she could experience due to her first deep subsuming of the Khala. So much events, all that happened in one day. All in her first day, in that training that did not seem so special, anymore. The light and shine of warriors, the inspiration and glory that made Lasarra join, like gold old and rusty, started to lose it's shine.

Her eyes also remained focused, for long moments, on the Disciple that now pushed against the other Zealot in that exercise. Lasarra tried to wonder how Naviri must have been, since she intervened for her when she needed the most. That was when her turn came to escalate that stack again, the ball shackles weighting down again on her wrists, Lasarra's muscles hurting. Though, now, it was a pain she now was getting used to. In the background, Biblos recited out loud his lessons as he walked around.

"Brothers. Sisters. Disciples, Adepts, Initiate. Regardless of standing, or experience or physical form, you are all Protoss warriors.", Biblos said, coldly. "As warriors, you uphold values and strive for perfection in the way of war. As you have learned so clearly, no thanks to our dear Initiate, Loyalty is a value to be upheld and as important as Honor. Yet, these are not the only values. We also uphold the values of Duty, Obedience, Strength and Faith. As warriors, Strength is the value we held in esteem the most, above all else. Many believe that Strength is limited alone to the physical prowess. This is the most inaccurate. For it encompasses so much the Strength of the Body as the Strength of the Mind, as the warrior trains to think quickly and thus act, and the Strength of the Soul, which the warrior reinforces his courage and removes his fears. All warriors strive to strengthen all three. And only a true warrior makes such accomplishment. It is what separate him or her from the savage beasts of the Zerg, the immoral mercenaries of the Terrans or the honorless bandits of the Tal'Darim. To become a true warrior, one capable of mastering all three Strengths, is more than an achievement, warriors. It is also an obligation. One that you are to partake, every moon and sun of your lives, until the Khala comes to collect you from this mortal plane."

Biblos then stopped by the stack of chests, where Lasarra was climbing the second chest.

"Initiate!", Biblos called. Lasarra, however, did not stop. "Do you know what a warrior is? What it means to be a warrior?"

"A warrior is a fulcrum of balance, Praetor.", Lasarra said, fighting the tire. "A fulcrum of several balances. He... He hones his strength, he control his anger, he...", she tried continuing before her mind got stuck, as so much the effort of the exercise as the lack of effort in remembering disrupted her. "He..."

"He what, Initiate?", Biblos asked, coldly.

"He...", Lasarra tried to remember, but it was difficult. Too difficult. "Forgive me, Praetor, I cannot remember."

"You will stay one more hour, then, training this carcass you dare call a body.", Biblos said. "You will not reinvigorate yourself. May the pain and tire reinforce your mind and sharpen it, as you try and remember the answer, and any other you may have forgotten. Is this understood, Initiate?"

"Aye, Praetor, it is...", Lasarra said, trying to control her anger as she reached the atop of the chest and turned to get herself down and off the stack. She cursed herself and her lack of memory as she then returned to the last in line, taking a chance to snoop at Naviri. She was holding herself steady as she continued to fight the other warrior, until she fell down as her strength finally gave in. She got on her feet, nodded to the warrior whom outmatched her, as she got on her feet and started running around the chamber. A while passed, Lasarra having passed over the stack two times, before a loud noise echoed across the chamber, like a large bell.

"Warriors!", Biblos roared. "Close in!"

Immediately, all warriors, including Lasarra, ceased their duties to take their position in the very base of the altar. Biblos himself stepped up the altar as N'arkham stood by his side.

"Another day finishes.", Biblos said. "Another day, in the long road of war, for many here. But for one, 'tis just the first. The first where much was learned and where much effort was put. The lessons learned here, today, are not only for her, but for all. Remember these lessons, warriors. Remember the meaning of these lessons. You are the light of Aiur, a light that is still to shine again on our home long lost. And when dawn shines, I have every confidence it shall be the last dawn. For it will shine forever. Go now. Remember your training. Remember your vow. Remember your duty. Anht Zagatir Nas!"

"UHN ORE'KI ATUM!", all warriors roared. All but Lasarra.

"Und lara khar.", Biblos dismissed, waving with his left hand. "En Taro Adun."

With this, all warriors started to immediately disperse. Lasarra looked around to search for Naviri, but she could hardly be seen. She went looking for her, with a bit of a hurry, before the Disciple would leave the War Chamber. She walked back, towards the crowd, and searching amongst it, as she called Naviri's name repeatedly, but no answer came. Then, after a hurried search, she came to see Naviri, whom slowly walked just because of the crowd, and Lasarra quickly caught up.

"Naviri.", Lasarra called as she approached.

"Talk not with me.", Naviri said, coldly.

"I wanted to thank you for what you have done for me.", Lasarra insisted.

"And what have you done?", Naviri asked, bitter. "You simply offered yourself for sacrifice!"

"You were going to pay dearly!", Lasarra exclaimed, shocked. "I was simply repaying you for what you did!"

"I did not ask to!", Naviri exclaimed. "And now, because of you, Biblos himself is infuriated!"

"I never expected Raseac to intervene in my behalf!", Lasarra defended herself. "If Biblos wanted to injure me, I was simply granting him the allowance."

"The punishment was not yours!", Naviri retorted. "And I could handle with what he would do to me. You would not. Do you believe what you suffered in your initiation was the worst? You know nothing of it!"

"Well, forgive me, then, for aiding a friend!", Lasarra said, offended. "For aiding one whom helped me when no one would!"

"I was doing my duty, Initiate!", Naviri stated, firmly. "Biblos had crossed the line. You did not have to do this. And now, I stand in debt with you, something he wants the less of his warriors. 'Tis the Inititate whom must be in debt with the Disciple, not the other way around. Hierarchy, Lasarra! The lower learn as the higher instructs! It has been before and must be from now onward!"

"Initiate! You are not insolent to leave when I told you not to, are you!?", a roar was heard from behind, as Biblos looked for Lasarra. She looked behind for a moment and looked at Naviri one last time.

"Then... forgive me for breaking such tradition, Naviri.", Lasarra said, sadly.

The Zealot simply said nothing as she turned around to leave. Lasarra never felt to injured within in her own existence. At least, not in such manner.

'Thank you.', Lasarra thought, as she turned around to return to the center of the War Chamber. The Disciple stopped for a moment and looked behind, in regret.

'Lasarra... Thank you.', Naviri said, sadly.

Lasarra simply stood before Biblos, determined to face what was coming before her, with the ball shackles hanging down before her. Biblos simply stared as N'arkham watched. Besides the trio, only the failed Zealot, Anaris, stood in posture and in the await, staring at the Initiate.

"N'arkham.", Biblos called, as the Zer'atai Dark Templar approached. "Remove the shackles. Then leave."

With this, the Prelate approached the very crate where the shackled balls could be operated from and worked a command with his mind. With this, the shackles immediately opened, as the balls fell to the ground and let out a noise that echoed through the chamber. Lasarra simply stared at Biblos for quite some time, as N'arkham went to pick up the shackled balls and place them back on the crate.

"Do you think you will still intimidate me with such stare, Initiate?", Biblos asked, coldly.

"I do not.", Lasarra answered. "You still wish to punish me, Praetor?"

"You clearly deserve it.", Biblos answered, coldly. "Unfortunately, duty stays my hand.", he added, as he then pointed at the chest stack organized in the center of the inlay. "Go. Continue the exercise. But Anaris will do it twice in every turn you do."

Lasarra looked for a moment at the stack, and then at the crate where the shackles were ultimately put in.

"Without the shackles, Praetor?", Lasarra asked, coldly.

"Do you want them?", Biblos asked back, cold as well. He then turned to Anaris, whom was still limping by his injure, provoked on the obstacle track. "You will go first, Anaris! NOW!"

With this said, the injured Zealot walked to the first row of the stacked chests and started escalating them, though the strength to climb up was minimal. So was at the second degree. However, it was in the descent that Anaris could feel the pain, as the descent had hit hard his injured leg in both two drops. Anaris could yelp in a pain understandable.

Lasarra only looked as the Zealot attempted to climb again and again, and drop again and again, but, after the first drop, the pain impacted on his leg and he lost balance as he fell from the stack to the ground, the hurt just being too much. Lasarra's expression was one of horror and wanting to help, but she stood still, as she knew this would bring further trouble with her said 'superior officer'. Biblos remained indifferent, standing tall. In the back, N'arkham had placed the crate on it's original place of belonging as he started to step down the degrees of the altar, starting his long walk to the exit of the War Chamber.

"This one does not count, shameful one.", Biblos said, coldly. "You must accomplish it entirely. Get on your feet and do it again."

Grinding in pain, Anaris slowly got to his feet as he limped to the start of the chest stack to escalate it again. Lasarra only stood there, her face one of disgust as she looked at the Zealot warrior, all wounded, with a startled face and then at Biblos with a look of disgust as she clenched her fists. The Praetor, however, only stared forward, raising his eyebrows at the hurt Zealot.

"You are angry.", Biblos said, coldly. "I can sense it from here. Is it pity from the one whom embarrassed himself? Speak, you have earned this right."

"He is wounded, Praetor.", Lasarra said, her temper growing. "'Tis not a simple pain that recovers, something occurred to his leg."

"You wish to help him.", Biblos said.

"He clearly needs so.", Lasarra said.

"You cannot.", Biblos said. "Only Anaris can help himself. Only you can help yourself. His shame is not yours to cleanse. As your weakness are not his, nor Naviri's to resolve."

"Weakness?", Lasarra said, growing angry. "I could barely recover myself by the electrical arcs!"

"You were not the only whom fell to such.", Biblos said, coldly. "Anaris had his turn, as well, I assure you. Do not feel yourself so special, Initiate."

"How can you be so cold is beyond me...", Lasarra said, disgusted.

"Eons of war, Lasarra.", Biblos said. "You will get to ignore such as well, on the day you step in this Chamber not as student, but as Instructor."

"If I would, by some sunturn, become that, I would act different.", Lasarra said.

"Helping those whom can only help themselves?", Biblos mocked. "A weakness not fit for a warrior?"

"I would not let one clearly wounded to pass through this ordeal, again and again!", Lasarra said, angry.

"Enough!", Biblos shouted. "He will pass through this ordeal, Initiate. Even if it takes this and the next moonrise, he will. He will injure himself again and again to cleanse himself of his shame. And you will do nothing, unless you would like to share his wound as you both take turns, both legs injured."

Lasarra widened her eyes in disbelief of the Praetor's threat, as Anaris started to escalate the stack.

"There is no painless way to clean a stain of shame, Initiate.", Biblos said. "None at all. The Terrans of very ancient times understood this quite well. Those ashamed, in their cultures, stabbed their primitive blades in their bellies or had their heads or reproductive organs cut. Those ancient Terrans understood the concept of shame and honor. Pity that now, despite they evolved to allow space travel, they devolved to a paternalistic culture, where their weakest are condoned and treated lightly, not mattering to shame or honor, at all. Now, behold the results: They fight one another, as their societies grow corrupt with greed and powerlust, and an overvalued thirst for primitive mating rituals, so that they have despicably turned into a commercial area. While the Zerg are the most dangerous of species, for their innumerable breed and relentless thirst for destruction, the Terrans are the most corrupting. Particularly their female breed, as one even now incorporates the Swarm and has driven it to become the pure embodiment of evil incarnate. That is why we value Strength more than all others. Only the strong, with a mind without doubt and a soul hardened, can stand against such evil. We do what we have to do. We stand against evil, Lasarra, even though now it is weakened, with the fall of the Queen of Blades. And to stand against evil, we must cut weakness like the rotten fruit from a tree, or a limb too infected to save, so the body may survive. Faith before Fear, Action before Doubt, Zeal before Weakness."

As Biblos had finished, Anaris had succeeded in finishing the second climb, even after he fell another time and started over again, opening room for Lasarra, disgusted with Biblos, whom now looked at the Initiate with an expression too indifferent.

"Pretend you can deny it, Initiate, but at least your hatred of me is honest.", Biblos said. "But know that I am counting on such hate. The more you hate me, the more you will learn."

The Praetor simply gestured at the chest stack as Anaris now rested his back, his eyes shut tight as he tried to cope with the pain.

"Your turn, Lasarra.", Biblos said, somewhat mocking. "And when you can, come and get me."

Bristling at his insult, Lasarra immediately went to the stack to escalate it. Somehow, she would teach such a cold Praetor a lesson. The thought and mockery flashed high on his mind.

'And when you can, come and get me.'

A single thought that now drove Lasarra to a new edge. Her initiation, the attempt to punish Naviri, and now such a cold punishment, one that crossed the clear, thin line between instructing and abusing. There was no more pain. No more sorrow.

All thoughts, for Lasarra, now focused on one thing, one that now was synonymous to Biblos, for her.

Hate.

---

ZERG LEVIATHAN, BLACKROCK PEAKS, CHAR
ONE HOUR LATER

The flesh doors to the Evolution Pit had opened as Kerrigan herself, her head high and Za'gara stepped inside the egg-riddled chamber. Abathur, whom worked on his web, turned around and watched at both as Izsha also came in. The air of optimism and excitement were high on the air, particularly on Kerrigan, whom now set up the plan made up so much from Za'gara's idea to utilize the Changeling as well as the inception a single memory brought on her head, one that Warfield would not see it coming. If, of course, the distraction would work. The stakes were perhaps a bit higher than what Za'gara estimated, but much higher were the rewards. Kerrigan was no strategist herself, but she knew now this was a plan too good to pass down. Not to mention that was the only plan, and the time to make a next one could mean the end of the blackout period Izsha was counting on, which would mean the Dominion fleet would arrive in time. In the end, it all based on the oldest of dillemas: All or nothing.

Still, excitement was high, a light of hope, a word unknown to the Zerg, had come up shining. It usually happened in a prelude to what would be the fiercest siege Char had ever witnessed. That is, if Zerg Hive Clusters didn't count as sieges, after all...

"How's it going, Abathur?", Izsha asked. "Is it done?"

"The modifications you have requested to the Viper have been performed.", Abathur said. "As requested, the Viper has had it's strength duplicated to sling large or small objects, like Banelings, at large distances. Also, a sense of precision was added, although this may require a more clear visual acquiring for the intent to utilize the Viper as a siege weapon to be effective."

"What does that mean?", Kerrigan asked. "We're gonna need a spotter for that?"

"I am afraid this is the only solution, my Queen.", Abathur answered.

"Are you kidding me?", Kerrigan asked, her face serious. "Serious, are you joking, Abathur?"

"With permission, this can be easily remedied.", Za'gara readily said. "Our Overseers, the evolution our Overlords can perform, were meant to sacrifice their ventral sacs and other functions but minion control so they can have an augmented line of sight and audition, to cover the entire Dauntless Plateau, in terms of range. Therefore, we can station one, though at a safer distance, but not with the loss of visual contact."

"Izsha stands correct, my Queen.", Abathur said.

"That's not a bad idea.", Izsha said. "Okay, this problem is solved. Now, what of the plan, Kerrigan? What you cooked up?"

"Well, it's definitely a first, has everything to fail, but, if done right, this might be talked for years.", Kerrigan said, allowing herself a smirk.

"And what isn't?", Izsha asked, casually. "Fire away, I'm all ears."

"Okay.", Kerrigan said, taking a deep breath. "This one will mostly depend more on Za'gara's idea, to utilize the Changeling. But, as the Brood Mother graciously pointed out, this depends on being done right too. So here's what we're doing. By the time we start this, and the Changeling becomes me, though I confess I'll be a bit freaked out, we're gonna depart the Leviathan, or at least take-off and have it pretend it's heading to the other stronghold, which Izsha told me it's on the Dead End Mountains, a place that is supposed to be safe, but she's taken precautions for new assault paths."

Kerrigan paused a bit and saw everyone was paying attention to everything she said. A small shiver went up her spine, but now it wasn't the time to budge to that.

"Now, Warfield sure as hell is not stupid.", Kerrigan said. "He must have used these hours preparing for everything we might do, including our possible departure. He may not want to fall for it, if he's smart enough to recognize a distraction plan, but he won't want to sit idle when the distress call from the second stronghold comes up. Za'gara, this is where you start it all. Timing is everything, here, you'll have to be patient on this one. The moment the Leviathan takes off and starts heading, you must wait one hour and then launch the attack. Then, wait five or ten minutes, if you'd like, to have the Changeling show up in plain sight, and be sure to pick a very good spot, preferably atop a rock, watching the fortress. Don't spare anything, force them to call for help. But Warfield will probably already want to send men before the artifact, first, so deal with those, too. Make Warfield believe we mean business on that stronghold. But be moderate, do not destroy everything that quickly. The idea is to get the artifact off the base, and until that's done, don't be too much aggressive. Just enough for Warfield to send out the artifact. Understand?"

"I understand, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "As it was with our primary battle in the caverns, as you collected eggs while I sent minions."

"Something like that, but a little notch down.", Kerrigan said. "Now, the moment the artifact leaves the base, we'll notify you. Wait until it shows up and then you get the hell out, Za'gara."

"Retreat, my Queen?", Za'gara asked.

"Yeah, you haul your ass out.", Kerrigan said. "It doesn't matter if you're losing or winning, you're there to get Warfield's attention. When the artifact shows up, get out and get over here to help us rid of Harkonnen. Now, the fortress itself. There is just one way in and one way out by land. That's what Warfield's counting to counter the ground assault, hence all the artillery many of it directed to the front. Not to mention the aerial defenses, to prevent us from taking to the skies. Fortunately, the Vipers can handle this, and we can rain down the Banelings to strike down the turrets or the welcoming committee behind the gate. Still, the gate is still a problem. Until we can take it out, the wave will be stuck and will clutter, becoming a perfect meat grinder for artillery."

"The gate may not be much of a problem.", Izsha said. "We got the trebuchets, we got the battering rams."

"Battering rams?", Kerrigan asked, a bit confused, looking at Izsha. "Ultralisks?"

"They finally hatched.", Izsha said, smiling. "Not to mention that Za'gara managed to recover some on her part. We can send them to the front. They'll absorb the artillery as they deal with the gate. And, with the confusion the Vipers will be causing throwing those Banelings, a defense will be complicated to form, in time."

"It could be, but it's too easy.", Kerrigan said. "Warfield mighty have accounted for this as well. He may have mined the way before the gate, to prevent this."

"We send expendable minions first, then.", Izsha said. "If there are mines, they will clear them out. You said Warfield had new mines, right?"

"Widow Mines.", Kerrigan answered, another light growing up. "That's not a bad idea, Izsha. Those minions will force the mines to fire and grant a safe passage to the Ultralisks."

"And the moment the gate falls, the Zerg will do what they do best.", Izsha said, smiling. "They'll swarm."

"Even with the gate down, they have a considerable amount of flame-based defenses, to deal with our Zergling and Baneling numbers.", Kerrigan said. "This fight will be everything but easy."

"Even with all their defenses, it'll be too much for them to hold against.", Izsha said.

"What of the Terrans' nuclear missiles, my Queen?", Za'gara said. "Warfield can very well launch them, as he efforts to hold the gate."

"Good point.", Izsha deadpanned. "Damn."

"If he does, we pull everything back, as far as we can.", Kerrigan readily said. "We'll make Warfield waste ammunition. I suggest you do the same on your attack, Za'gara. The people there may have nukes as well. Pull back your minions a bit, wait 'til the explosion happens and the blast clears and then get back to the fight. You can do this, can't you?"

"A strategy strange, my Queen, to retreat a bit because of nuclear ordinance, but it can be done.", Za'gara answered. "Though it is nearly the same as retreating due to the appearing of the artifact."

"No, that's different.", Kerrigan quickly correct. "When you see a nuke launched, you pull back to clear the blast area and avoid heavy losses. When you see the artifact, you get the hell out for good, winning or losing. See the difference?"

Za'gara bowed, then. "Clearly, my Queen."

"Now, getting back to the battle, Warfield won't stand idle or simply hold and launch nukes.", Kerrigan said. "He'll want to launch the air force to counter the Vipers, the moment he sees them. That's where the flyers come in. They'll shield the Vipers."

"These flyers may have afterburner engines to evade our minions, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "They can retreat quickly when they destroy a Viper to then return and strike again."

"Don't remind me...", Izsha closed her eyes, still a bit angry in reminding that.

"Our minions will be close to the Vipers at all times.", Kerrigan said. "We won't fall twice. If they run away with their boosters, we'll let'em. What matters is covering the Vipers."

"And what of the Overseer, Kerrigan?", Izsha asked. "Warfield won't be stupid to know there's a spotter for those things. He can strike the thing down, for all I know."

"He'll be too much under pressure, by then, to realize that.", Kerrigan said. "A ground assault, bombardment, his defenses countered and not working as he'd like... He'll want results fast. He won't think sideways with that much pressure, around."

"Funny, since when you've became the strategist?", Izsha asked, reminding what Kerrigan asked in the Nerve Center.

"Arcturus taught me a thing or two concerning pressure.", Kerrigan answered. "A guy gets too pressed, he's liable to make mistakes or not do anything that solves."

"Makes sense.", Izsha said.

"Continuing, then...", Kerrigan said. "The moment we breach the fortress, Warfield will try and put a fierce fight, at every turn. I think that, if we want to use our Ultralisks, we'll have to focus on the bigger guns, then."

"The Thors, you mean?", Izsha said. "They're pretty tough for a few Baneling slings, you know that, right?"

"We'll have to try.", Kerrigan said. "At least until the Thors are at the range of the Kaiser Blades. The real fight will get when we come to the Primary Operations Command. Warfield will want to concentrate the defense as a last-ditch effort, buying time for the artifact to return."

"We'll probably have cleared most of the defenses, by then.", Izsha said. "We can approach the Vipers and pound the defenses. Warfield will be made short work of, once we breach the P.O.C."

"No.", Kerrigan said.

Izsha stared then at Kerrigan, not understanding, but also her suspicions increasing.

"What?", Izsha asked.

"You desire for the General to live through the siege, my Queen?", Za'gara asked.

"Yeah, I want him alive.", Kerrigan said. "He'll deliver my message to Mengsk."

"Message?", Za'gara asked, dumbstruck. "Of what sort?"

"Ain't it obvious?", Kerrigan asked, raising her eyebrows. "That we're alive, we're back, and we're coming for him, but when we want and where is our choosing. Any problems with that, any of you?"

"I would hardly recommend it, my Queen.", Za'gara said. "Neutralizing Warfield has an advantage in neutralizing a strategic asset. Besides, if he is allowed to escape, he can return and attain a larger army."

"After I'm through with him, I doubt he will...", Kerrigan replied. "And you, Izsha? Any complaints, like the other times?"

The halfling, however, instead of getting angry, as Kerrigan presumed, only frowned.

"Fine by me.", Izsha said. "Mengsk will even lose time chasing a Ghost once we're done and leave, if you ask me..."

"Leave?", Kerrigan asked, staring at Izsha, dumbstruck. "You mean, once we win, we're getting out of Char? I thought we'd stay here and get to work rebuilding!"

"I thought so as well, Izsha!", Za'gara said, upset. "What sort of a 'prank' this is!?"

"Hardly a prank, Za'gara...", Izsha said, letting out a sigh. "If you want the truth, ladies, I never intended to stay once Warfield was dealt with. As I've learned with Jim Raynor, particularly after his stunt on Korhal, it's better to just keep moving and get mobile. You build roots in a place and you're liable to be caught and not run away in time. Besides, we have other Brood Mothers to get, remember?"

Kerrigan let out a sigh. Izsha had a point on that matter. After all the Swarm, despite the strength they were gathering, probably wouldn't still be enough to handle the wrath of the whole Dominion fleet, whom would no doubt come with all their ordinance, this time. They would need to get on moving. Plus, the probable fact Mengsk would no doubt want to jump on Kerrigan the moment she'd be spotted delivered a bit of an advantage in misdirecting the enemy. Something the Sons of Korhal did with the Confederacy many times over, flawing up only twice, on Chau Sara and Antiga Prime. Or Raynor's warband, in their campaign against Arcturus himself.

"Yeah, we have.", Kerrigan said, not wanting to give Izsha the feeling she was right. "Well, that about summons it for a plan. What do you think?"

"Only one big flaw, and it's right at the distraction.", Izsha answered. "We're gonna have to be too convincing to get Warfield to move the artifact."

"As I once said to my Queen, Izsha, the Terrans always protect and fight for one another, when necessary.", Za'gara said. "At the very dangerous apex of the attack on the second Terran stronghold, and at the sight of your 'presence', my Queen, Warfield will not want to stay idle as those like his own men die in battle, even though he is aware this can be a trap, which I doubt, as he'll see our Leviathan leaving this region. The moment he knows the reinforcements he sends may not be enough, he will want to move the artifact, to save them."

"Brood Mother Za'gara is correct, Izsha.", Abathur said. "The concept of warfare involves not only physical factor, but also psychological factor. The capacity this stratagem has, of a psychological influence on a physical factor, is something not to be easily discarded."

"Warfield might get a little too paranoiac to move the artifact, even with a convincing acting.", Izsha said. "He'll even suspect Kerrigan on the spot, in plain sight, for all I know."

"It is something he will not expect, true, but he will not want to stand idle, if this happens.", Za'gara said. "He will want to act, even though this may put the artifact itself at risk. We can even shoot down the transport carrying it, neutralizing this threat, if necessary."

"Probably the trinket will be all juiced up and he'll fire it with the Dropship moving to clean any hit we try to pull. Then all he has to do is get it back and not move it, anymore.", Kerrigan said. "No, it's better he keeps on moving the artifact unharmed, or he'll get suspicious too early."

"Well, this better work, then.", Izsha said.

"It HAS to work, Izsha.", Kerrigan said. "We have nothing else."

"Then all that's left is the time.", Izsha said. "When?"

"Let's wait a bit, first.", Kerrigan said. "A couple of hours. We have to make Warfield think we're not going anywhere."

"Agreed.", Izsha said, nodding her head in assurance.

"As do I.", Za'gara said. "And then we depart, my Queen?"

"You're going early, if you ask me.", Kerrigan said. "Twenty minutes earlier, or a half-hour, with the Changeling. You'll get things ready for the attack on the second stronghold."

"I understand, my Queen.", Za'gara said, nodding. A bit of silence then proceeded, like if all were waiting for something to happen.

"Well...", Kerrigan said, as she let out a sigh. "That's about it."

"Then I shall prepare myself, my Queen, with your permission.", Za'gara said, as she bowed.

"You can go, Za'gara.", Kerrigan said. The Brood Mother then turned to leave. Only Abathur and Izsha continued to look at her.

"It's over, Abathur.", Izsha said.

"Affirmative. I will resume my work, then.", Abathur said, as he turned around to work on the web. Kerrigan only let out a sigh as she looked around.

"Anxious?", Izsha asked, as she closed in a bit.

"And who isn't?", Kerrigan asked back. "The most heavily fortified installation, shielded by a trinket that can burn Zerg at an entire region and we're going to hit it. And we're counting on the most unlikely of strains to do it."

"Yeah, we're writing history here, little girl.", Izsha said, letting out a sigh. "But I like to think this will be a preview to main event. The siege of Korhal."

"Shame it'll take long, as we'll be getting back the Brood Mothers.", Kerrigan said. "Mengsk will have got himself stronger, by then."

"He will. But we'll be strong too, when we get there.", Izsha said. "I just hope you remember the good times we've had when the end comes."

Kerrigan simply smirked, ironically, at Izsha.

"I wouldn't count on that...", Kerrigan said, as she turned around and left the Evolution Pit. Izsha then scoffed a bit, almost laughing, when she recoiled back to the hole where she came from.

---

NEW CANAAN, TYRADOR IX
NIGHT TIME

The night sky was quite starry as it was a bit warm. A cold breeze blew as Nova Terra could feel the refreshing cold touch her skin, reminding her to be awake. She sat on the every edge of the rooftop, her grip on her C-20A tight as her blue eyes kept a very keen watch on her surroundings, her ears open and ready for any possible sound that was everything but natural of the town or climate. Or even close, someone attempting to break in. She was a bit exposed from the point of view of that plain rooftop, that had it's ventilation system, an access door, an antenna and the power terminal, but she chose to be there. She wanted to do everything but to sleep, to avoid those memories again and again. At sleep, the mind could be caught easily off guard. When she was awake, Nova could put up a fight and focus on the job, though at the cost of some physical strain from tire, due to not sleeping to pass through the next day.

But, in military, especially in the special forces branch the Ghost Program was, remaining awake was quite a common thing. Some kept themselves awake for a modicum of roughly seventy-two to ninety-six hours. Some like Nova, whom now stared at the far horizon of the New Canaan city, not much lights on, particularly these three hours past the midnight, A.K.A, three in the morning. Only the more irresponsible of teenagers on their parties and bars, security guards working shifts and people like her remained awake, though Ghosts did it at times. She took a deep breath, continuing to look at that horizon, as another memory was struggling itself to come up. While outside she seemed serene and calm, within her mind she fought an endless struggle against an enemy that didn't seem to want to die, always coming back, only getting weakened when she pan-brained her mind: Herself. Her memories. Scars of the mind, in her opinion. She simply suffered too much to want to remember those things.

Fagin... Tosh... Nadaner... Each and every last devil in her mind, whom liked to haunt her at times. Painful memories, of the massacre on the Terra Skyscraper, of the experiences on the Gutter. It all sounded crisp and clear. It all remembered with a far more nitid view than any other person could recall. The corpses of mother and father on the ground, her friends and employees of the Old Family, all cut apart by those rebels, whom were granted access by one she trusted the most. One whom spoke against her father, Constantino, when he sent her to that shuttle to that resort world because of the alien invasions. But Edward Peters only wanted her to stay so she could die along with the rest of the family. She closed her eyes for a moment as she took a deep breath, working to forget that and return to focus on watching ahead, when suddenly, a light caught up to her.

A red light, aiming right between her eyes.

Quickly reacting, she moved away and got on her feet, dashing to the left as she got back and aimed the rifle. But, when she aimed her rifle, the light was missing. Her breathe was heavy and fast as her heart raced. She kept her grip on the rifle, aming it at the skyscraper where the light came from. However, the light didn't return since. She still kept aiming it, before she lowered her rifle, her face an angry one. The shiver in her spine tingled.

Someone was playing with her. Otherwise he or she would take a shot, not just play with the targeting laser.

---

EXECUTOR'S QUARTERS, DAELAAM ARK
CLOSE ORBIT TO KALDIR

Slow, bitter steps echoed in the empty halls of the Daelaam Ark as the Initiate put back her wrist pieces containing those Psi-Blades she gained from the pains she suffered in her initiation. Her blue blood boiled with anger seen only on the Aeon of Strife, when the empathic link was still long lost and the tribes fought one another in a murderous civil war. She could hardly believe such a cold blood, coming from one whom should have been the example of instruction in that Chamber. One whom simply let out one clearly injured to perform an ordeal so painful, again and again. A cruelty unfitting for a Protoss and unbecoming of a warrior, as Biblos liked to proclaim.

Oh, how she wished to be able to let out those blades and draw the blood out of Biblos' vessel... How she wished to repay what he did to her and others whom suffered equally or worse than her, one cut at a time. She knew it'd practically impossible. Biblos was her instructor, as he was of others whom shared the same golden armor of the Daelaam Zealots. To face him would be a violation of discipline simply unforgivable, one that not even Raseac himself would shield her from. Not to mention she knew little of the practice of combat. Biblos would no doubt subdue her or his warriors would, or even Sentries themselves, as she experienced in the Recovery Chamber.

She cursed everything since she could finally leave, leaving Anaris to his fate with Biblos as both male Protoss stood at the War Chamber. She cursed that Praetor for all the pain and suffering and sorrow. She cursed those other warriors, whom apparently would do nothing, as self-assured and so alike him that they were. She cursed herself, for her weakness and literally so few skills in combat.

And Naviri... What kind of a retribution was that? After she stood in the line for the Disciple, it would be expected that she'd be grateful to Lasarra. Yet, she wasn't, reprehending the Initiate with talking of hierarchy and the fact Lasarra offered herself for something she knew it was far worse. Something that Lasarra would understand as minimal concept of Honor. The most basic of concepts. When one does something to help you, it's expected you repay him back in kind or better.

An air of nervousness gripped Lasarra's hearts as she closed on the entrance the Executor's Quarters, a place where her first dues of pain were delivered, by Raseac himself. Hesitating at first, she crossed the arc entrance, where an energy barrier stood by, as she's seen the Executor standing by the viewing energy window of the Ark, overlooking the Iceworld where Lasarra, it was told, would come down to work at times, at the new settlement being formed at a planet that, it was told, was practically unwelcoming to all but it's scarce fauna. Raseac turned around, feeling the Initiate's presence, as she bowed in respect to the commanding officer.

"You are late, Initiate.", Raseac said.

"I spent one additional hour after today's training session as punishment.", Lasarra answered. "I failed to answer a question the Praetor asked me. I could not remember due to my tire and physical pain."

"And he is correct, Lasarra.", Raseac said. "You tire and suffer pain now so it will not come so easily in the heat of battle. You train your mind so you will not forget. And you train your soul so it will be ready when the most difficult of challenges and requests come. But that is not the concern, Initiate. For now, I would like to talk with you concerning today. Your first day. I must say that you are one whom considerably improved in your progress, unlike others."

"You refer to my incident with the Khala in the obstacle track, Executor?", Lasarra asked.

"Hardly an incident, Lasarra.", Raseac said. "For one that almost fell in the electrical arcs in the first day, this is no small feat, for one of your standing."

"Biblos hardly believes so.", Lasarra replied, bitter.

"Praetor Biblos, Initiate.", Raseac corrected. "But one such thing is the most unusual of all, as well. Not many were able to subsume themselves so deeply into the Khala as you did. An Initiate, one to yet trail the Path of Ascension, even less."

"Is this an accusation, Executor?", Lasarra asked, worried.

"Of course not.", Biblos said, a bit offended by the question. "I am simply pointing out a fact of something that seemingly, for one like you, would be practically impossible."

"In all due honesty, I believed so, as well.", Lasarra commented, humbly.

"Yet, even so, while you have progressed, I would ask you do not fool yourself to believe you will shortly become a Disciple.", Raseac said, firmly, yet soft. "Like all others, for their sake and yours, you will continue to train normally, and learn with the proper time. The trail of Initiates takes at least five sunturns to complete it's course. And I must ask you to not fall in the temptation to subsume yourself again for the duration of this training, even if it is in the most difficult of challenges. A warrior knows he must fortify himself, and you must utilize your strength from your current physical condition. Do you understand this, Lasarra?"

Lasarra closed her eyes, but then nodded in obedience, though she now was a bit sad and still a bit angry, at the events occurred earlier.

"Good.", Raseac said, returning to his desk, apparently now restored after Lasarra's last 'visit' to the place, if that could be called one. He sit himself down as Lasarra walked forward to the desk, standing on her feet. "Now, how much did you study of the Khala, prior to your initiation?"

"Only the most basic of teachings, Executor.", Lasarra answered. "Before then, I did not believe such could happen with myself."

"Humble to end, I see, Initiate.", Raseac said. "An admirable trait, though a small one, too. As is your loyalty to defending Disciple Naviri. It was she whom assisted you with the subsuming, was she not?"

Lasarra hesitated a bit, as she looked at the Executor in the eye. "She...", Lasarra started, hesitating a bit, still. "She has only suggested it to me, and I did not know how. It was another Protoss whom assited me."

Raseac had his attention caught, as he leaned forward, deadlocking the Initiate.

"Another Protoss?", the Executor asked. "Are you certain of this?"

"I do.", Lasarra said. "The voice was completely different from that of Naviri. It was wise, while Naviri's was immediate. It was persisting, while that of Naviri's was immediate. And this voice was a male one."

"You can recall this voice?", Raseac said. "Can you recognize it, should you hear it again?"

"I believe I can, Executor.", Lasarra said. "It was this voice, not Naviri, whom aided me say those words, whom revigorated me."

"We call those the Rites of Strength.", Raseac said. "The very basic words a warrior can ever learn. But listen carefully, I do not want you listening to this voice, no longer, Lasarra. Clearly there may be one among us whom is attempting to facilitate things for you, when this must not be. If this occurs again, you must resist and inform me, when possible. Do you understand that?"

Lasarra nodded.

"Well, then...", Raseac said, leaning back. "And even though she did not told you these Rites, you defended her?"

"I was aware the... Praetor would do things worse to her.", Lasarra said. "Even though she admitted such, which was not true, I could not stand her to suffer."

"And thus you went in her assistance?", Raseac asked.

"I did.", Lasarra said, lowering her head. "Though she did not appreciate it. When I went to talk with her, she said she never asked for it, and that now she was in debt with me, something she damned herself for. She claimed it is an Initiate whom must be in debt to the Disciple, not the other way around."

"And it is.", Raseac said. "Though this is not something too bad in itself. She may say this, as to not gather the fury of Biblos, but, far inside, I know she is thankful for your intervention."

"A prediction too optimistic, in my opinion, Executor.", Lasarra said.

"It is the truth, Initiate.", Raseac said. "Many of the greatest bonds between two souls were rather made by one being indebted to another. Though remember that this debt is not something to be spent lightly. Only on what you need the most important."

"I understand.", Lasarra said, lowering her head down. Raseac noticed her posture.

"Is this sadness I feel, Lasarra?", Raseac said.

"Anger, as well, Executor.", Lasarra said.

"Of what?", Raseac asked, sounding patient. "Or whom?"

"It would be inappropriate to say this, foremost to you.", Lasarra said.

"Why do I have the anticipated feeling this concerns the Praetor?", Raseac asked. "I have stopped him from harming you or Naviri, as I recall, Initiate."

"But not Anaris.", Lasarra said, bitter, looking at the Executor. "You have not seen what Biblos did to him in the War Chamber."

"I have given him the permission, Lasarra.", Raseac said, apparently not showing a slight sense of interest. "He has done what had to be done."

"And that is forcing one who is clearly injured into an ordeal, Executor?", Lasarra asked, angry. "Anaris was clearly injured in his leg, doubtlessly a wound that is not normal nor natural. And still, Biblos has forced him into that, with me watching him fall and tumble again and again!"

"I am well aware of Adept Anaris injury, Lasarra.", Raseac said.

"What!?", Lasarra asked, widening her eyes. "And even so you allowed the Praetor-"

"He is an Instructor, Lasarra.", Raseac said, his tone firm. "He must not allow weakness to compromise those he leads in combat. And you cannot do anything for Anaris."

Lasarra was then disgusted at the Executor's lack of action.

"Then...", Lasarra started. "I suppose you will not do anything relating this."

"I will not.", Raseac said. "But perhaps you can."

Lasarra simply stared at the Executor, dumbstruck.

"What do you mean?", Lasarra asked.

"Has he taunted you, Initiate?", Raseac asked. "Provoked you into a battle?"

"He did.", Lasarra answered. "But I have not heeded, as it would be a breaking of discipline."

"'Tis something he does with those Initiates he considers strong enough or with the best of potentials.", Raseac said. "With you, I believe, he had done so because you are the only Initiate. Nevertheless, he has challenged you, and one day you are to meet it. You must be prepared, by then."

"I shall definitely be bested, by then, like all others...", Lasarra said, in regret.

"A prediction too pessimistic, then, in my personal opinion.", Raseac commented.

"He has more strength and physical training than myself, Executor.", Lasarra said. "This is all but a prediction, but rather an enunciation of a fact. It may even be too sooner before I am properly trained and prepared."

"Or too late, Initiate.", Raseac assured the Initiate. "One thing that is certain is this will not be today, nor tomorrow. So you will be able to prepare yourself. Even with assistance, if needs be."

"Assistance?", Lasarra asked, dumbstruck. "But, Executor, I thought Biblos told me that my weakness is mine and only mine to resolve."

"And it is, Lasarra.", Raseac said. "Though not always. When most needed, one warrior always assists the other. Indebted, or not."

Lasarra did not understand it, at first, but then a light came up on her when she got to understand those words he said.

"Executor, you suggest that-", Lasarra started.

"Do not say anything, Initiate.", Raseac censored, even with his large, thick hand. "Though I am surprised your mind was clever to understand this, and quite fast, as well. In any event, you should take a rest, Lasarra. A long day lies before both of us, tomorrow. You, on your training, and mine on my duty below, by our newly set settlement. You can go now, Lasarra. En Taro Tassadar."

Lasarra simply bowed to the Executor and then turned around to leave the quarters, the suggestion Raseac told her in mind. Something perhaps too unorthodox, even for one of his standing to do this to an Initiate. But now, as she crossed the entrance to the Quarters and returned to the golden clad halls of the Daelaam vessel, her focus was clear. She had something to handle two problems at once. A debt would be paid and a friendship restored. And preparation, coming from one versed in the ways of war, would come, hopefully as more forgiving than Biblos ever were.

Curiously, the Terrans had a term to resume that. Two rabbits with a stick.

---

DOMINION FRONTLINE OPERATIONS STRONGHOLD - HARKONNEN
DAUNTLESS PLATEAU, CHAR
TWO HOURS LATER

The large service bay section from the Harkonnen fortress was crowded and working at all due speed at the time, refitting and preparing the vehicles and aircraft for the battle that would occur. From the lightest of Hellions to Siege Tanks, Vikings in their assault mode and the humongous Thor stationed by one of the scaffolding construction sites, sparks flew up high as mechanics and their welders did their work concerning preparations. Fuel Tanks for vehicles and Hellion flamethrowers, as well as crates and ammunition stacks, ranging from bullets for Viking and Goliath autocannons to gigantic rounds for the Thor's cannons, were spread around or moving, in addition to crates with repair and construction tools as well as green barrels, filled with Vespene Gas.

But it weren't the tanks, nor Thors, nor Goliaths or other vehicles that mattered to Horace Warfield, but rather what was a bit more beyond the service garage, by the far end, where the taller, but thinner Kel-Morian Warhounds were being refitted. He, along with the chief mechanic of the stronghold, Mercer Groves, walked through the service bay, beneath the super-structure, above the courtyard, where the primary Dominion base lied. As both Groves and Warfield walked, with a bit of a hurry, it could be told, the General could feel a bit of fatigue due to the non-stop work those mechanics had been under the last couple of hours. Still, given that what the soldiers out there would face, the fatigue somehow would be worth it, hopefully. Groves was already a tad older for a mechanic's standards, though younger than the war-torn General whom walked at his side. He wore a black gray jump suit as well as a vest with the tools strapped, so much as the tightly laced black boots he wore. He had a short black hair, blue eyes and an old, pale white face with a long nose.

When both General and Chief Mechanic arrived, Warfield could see the tall Warhounds, noticing subtle, but significant changes on them. The Warhounds were painted with the red color of the Dominion, as well as the Dominion Shield in every last one of them, but this was the smallest of things to be noticed, just a paint job. There was a second missile pod installed on the other, empty shoulder, but this pod was a bit more longer in length, with smaller rocket holes installed. A second arm with a shield, replacing the pure shield arm from behind, now contained a large cannon barrel as well as a small autogun below it, with the bullet magazine exposed and connecting the gun to the large ammunition box at the mech's backside. On the sides of the cockpit, where smaller plating with an X depression were at, now lied two smaller cannons, meant to launching grenades of a sort, but these were a secondary function. The original left arm, with the railgun, suffered no alteration but the addition of a smaller twin barrel below, with a hose connecting the weapon to the tank below. A flamethrower. Below the cockpit of the mechanoid, a small turret with a machine gun, akin to those used on the Goliaths, stood as it's small barrel aimed forward. Sparks continued to fire by it as the Dominion mechanics on the scaffolding performed the final touches to the refit work the General requested.

"I'm seeing those things now sound a bit more convincing in a fight.", Warhound said, looking at one such Warhound. "Alright, mister Groves, you have five minutes. Impress me."

"Well, General...", Groves started, a clear British tone. "As you and the late Colonel Richter requested, you wanted the Warhound to be in a decent fighting shape, so, obviously, we had to shove a bit more of weaponry than we'd have liked, making it a multiple solution for most situations, though at a cost of a bit of a speed and armour. Starting with the original missile launcher, we replace the Haywire Missiles with Hellfire packs, for the traditional air Zerg situation. The other launcher, as you may have noticed, contains Hurricane missile packs for rapid anti-air rocket fire, manual targeting available if needed. Given we need every weapon we could have available, we decided to preserve the main railgun cannon, adding only a compact flamethrower. Not so powerful as those of Firebats, or Hellions or even these new Hellbats, but they can handle small Zerg pockets as well. The other arm, however, has a more tactical function. It carries a compact battle cannon, that fires 15mm explosive rounds at a moderate rate of fire, meant to pierce moderate Zerg carapace, found in Zerg Roaches. Below it, a mounted 7.5mm autocannon for standard combat. Two grenade launchers for medium range fire, one shot every ten seconds. Small radius blast. Finally, a small automated gun turret, for fire support."

"Sounds decent enough.", Warfield said, staring at the mechanoids. "Though I'm pretty damn sure those Zerg won't hit with puppies alone. Can any of these weapons perform a scratch or two on an Ultralisk?"

"Only two, and they'll be better used combined.", Groves answered. "The railgun itself and the battle cannon. If you'd like, you can use a barrage of the Hurricane missiles."

"How long until we can load and get them into the field?", Warfield asked.

"The final welding to the armor plating is under way, General.", Groves replied. "With the additional delay for fully loading ammunition, roughly half-hour."

"I want them ready in at least twenty.", Warfield ordered. "What of the other vehicles?"

"All checked up and nearly good to go to the brawl, sir.", Groves answered.

"And the refit I asked you perform on all Vikings?", Warfield asked, a bit tense. "Is it done."

"All afterburners accounted for.", Groves replied. "They're only awaiting ammunition load."

"Get every Viking back to the courtyard now.", Warfield ordered. "I want them on air as soon as-"

"General!", another British voice, this one belonging to Duncan McGrudd, suddenly came up on Warfield's intercom, sounding alarmed. "Horace, are you there!?"

"I'm here, McGrudd, what is it?", Warfield readily asked. "Kerrigan's doing it!? She's launching the attack?"

"No, sir, it's the beast, it's getting off the ground!", McGrudd answered, alarmed.

Widening his eyes, Warfield immediately stormed, running like hell to the outside of the fortress and back to the P.O.C., his aged heart hurting due to the effort the General was putting, his old legs getting tired as well, all as he circled around to atop a wall, where he could see the vision of the Blackrock Twins, where the Zerg Leviathan, in all it's glory and horror, now stood afloat, rock and dirt raining from the below the creature. Warfield's expression was a fearful one. It was going to happen, after all, and she'd already do it all using the monster, much before the massive losses from smaller minions occurred. People ran frantically, assuming battle stations, all preparing for the worst.

"McGrudd!", Warfield shouted, alarmed. "Tell me the nukes are being armed!"

"Sure as hell they are, sir!", McGrudd ordered. "Loading up and heating in five!"

"Load up the artifact in the gravitational field generator, get it to charge now!", Warfield ordered, before he saw the beast then began to move. It slowly turned to the right, in Warfield's point of view, as it raised from the ground, as if it were going somewhere else. It was then that he noticed the beast started moving forward, apparently not headed directly to the fortress' position. He gradually looked at the beast as it moved aside, to somewhere else but Harkonnen.

'What the fekk...', Warfield thought.

"General, are you seeing this?", McGrudd asked, surprised. "The thing is moving, but it's moving away!"

"Yeah, I'm seeing the damn thing, McGrudd, but keep tight, still!", Warfield ordered. "She may be trying to flank us, don't lower the guard!"

"Roger, sir!", McGrudd complied. "Should we dispatch our air force to handle it!? Take an opportunity?"

"I doubt the rockets and missiles can do a scratch on that, McGrudd.", Warfield said. "Damn thing can handle Battlecruisers, fighters are nothing but flies harassing the thing. Keep them here, where our ground anti-air can help out. I'm not taking chances!"

"Aye, General.", McGrudd replied.

However, for a couple of minutes, so much Warfield as everyone on the station just looked at the gargantuan Leviathan as it moved away and away afar. It didn't turn, it didn't strafed or did nothing. For a couple of times, as precaution, Warfield looked at the mountain to notice it was empty, nothing coming out of it. Warfield was dumbstruck. It didn't even seem Kerrigan was going to fight, at all.

"It's not even turning...", Warfield said to himself, suspicious. "That's not normal, Kerrigan wouldn't just chicken out of a fight like that."

Unless...

"Duncan, on the direction the thing is headed, where do you think it's going?", Warfield asked.

"Hold on, General...", McGrudd said, tense. "General, this is not good."

"What is it?", Warfield asked.

"The Leviathan's direction, sir...", McGrudd said. "It's headed to the Dead End Mountains."

Warfield then started to see what was going on. She was going to pick up a more easier fight. The standard plan for when a position was too strong to take over, just like in an old movie he'd seen. Take the positions around Harkonnen, one at a time, minimize chance for reinforcements. And there was only one base on Char, other than that of Warfield's.

Doom Hammer.

"Get transports loaded and ready to take off!", Warfield ordered. "The moment they send distress calls, I want backup on the air!"

---

X

---

FINAL COMMENTS:

Okay, let's head first into the two-week delay. You guys must remember, when I told you when I released Chapter 7 (Calm After the Storm), concerning that new place the firm I worked for opened on another state and that, as a result, I'd have to postpone three weeks to help organize it as a consultant. I was recalled there past week, in Wednesday, when the fic was practically at half the work done, because of technical issues that brewed there as a result of the new person's lack of experience. Goddamn people, a lot of work to straighten things up and just a few days to ruin it all! As the problem-solver, they immediately shoved me in a plane five hours later, couldn't even straighten the bags, and I hoped I could solve this in a day or two. But it took the rest of the week and weekend, all to teach that boy, the company ordered, some redhaired punk I won't mention his name, and I only managed to get back home this Monday. So excuse the lack of news or the delay, please, understand that this is not my fault.

Now, then, if that's solved let's talk of the chapter itself. As I assured, it'd be three final chapters to conclude the Char arc, and now the first, the prelude to battle, is now done. And I can't believe I freaking managed to make a chapter larger than the one from the battle of Verhoeven! More than 40k words! But then, I didn't want to break that limit, that's it, we're getting done with the Char arc once and for all and period! It took twice the size, enough to fill two chapters, but now everything's set for the next course of the game.

But I can't just leave it by that without delivering a few personal notes concerning some things on this chapter. First, the plan concerning Harkonnen. There are those who'll call it silly, by the idea of transforming Vipers in trebuchets themselves, or the idea of utilizing Changelings, but first let's concern a few concepts that are being introduced with this on the Zerg. Lateral thinking and innovation, something that Terrans are well aware of and that was even introduced on the Ghost Academy comics. As Abathur clearly denoted, war isn't just about numbers, or firepower, or supplies, but also concerning psychological warfare, fooling one person into doing or not doing something. That is something that many of the times, in modern strategy, is often considered and even applied. The very first example, the explicit, I mean, was the very Trojan Horse itself. Though here we're dealing with fooling someone by appearing in plain sight, and not even being there. But it's still an example of fooling an opponent, something that can rather be applied in real life as in StarCraft, with a distraction when you bring transports to the backdoor of the base, the works. Then, there's innovation, and that concerns the Viper. Actually, many will say that's nothing new, but to the Zerg it is, because, until Kerrigan was brought in, they weren't that much into lateral thinking, always wanting or developing a direct solution, where every situation A needed a solution B because no one thought that the solution C could work, too. And that came from something old, something the Zerg wouldn't know or even care to know! On that, on a personal note and if you're curious, the original idea was to utilize the Fatty, the old Infestor model, as a cannon for Banelings, but then I realized it was a bit too silly. Then, seeing a match video on the net and the use of the Viper's abduct made me remind of Age of Empires II, that reminded me of trebuchets, then, and then I realized 'Hey, it's not that bad.'. Well, sue me for that if you want, I liked it.

Then, following, we get to Hardscape. Good pace, good development, getting to parts people will get extremely familiar with, especially those whom've read the Ghost Academy saga. I intend to follow a bit on that, on my own style. And I think you'll like that one, too, especially coming from someone as... different, as Lio is.

The introduction for Gestalt Zero, many will tell, is a bit odd, given he left, though not with the Protoss, but ask yourselves, where else he's supposed to go? He's not got a pretty good face, right now, to mingle back into Terran society, the Zerg would try assimilating him and probably fail, so that leaves the Protoss. Still, they're not so forgiving with the fact that not only he's a monster, but also a murderer and such. The change in persona can be explained by the years he spent, developing his sarcastic attitude. In most accounts, a Protoss Ezio di Auditori.

Lasarra, however, I confess, was one of the hardest segments I could ever conceive to write and such. Two factors contributed to such difficulty, one was the lack of knowledge of how a Zealot was trained, other than in the Frontline comics, and that only covered the Zealot's precog ability. There was also a lack of knowledge of how exactly is the experience of subsuming in the Khala, hence the almost irritating scene that was Lasarra's recovery, that sounded a bit *too* religious for my taste, but had to be done and I was out of ideas. If anyone would like to criticize or correct such things, feel free to post them in the review. The second factor was the timing. I was so compromised to not messing with it, to avoid killing the flow, that I didn't realize I might've already done with introducing the Protoss on Chapter 8 (The First Warm Breeze), when actually it should've been done in The Puppet Queen. Now I may have to rush things a little bit, and that's something I never liked doing, concerning writing. This simply kills the magic of Fanfic, rushing stuff.

But it's already a tad too late, and the next chapter is restricted to Char, the final battle and getting things to be settled, as well as the introduction of someone new in the chapter after. After the battle, I'll see if I can give Lasarra some fighting skills, even though they're the most basic of all, for an important scene that's related to the story. Chapter 21 will also first introduce to Kaldir, before the Zerg arrive, and I'll extend in at least one mission, making four, for Kerrigan, that is finding a way to adapt to that world and it's infernal flash freeze storms.

Well, I said enough. I'm back, sorry for the delay, comment, critique, review, the works, ladies and gentlemen. Until next week. Hopefully, I'll have that time, depending on how things go from now on, at that new firm site...