Tassadar
The cold seeped past Tassadar's bones and nipped at his very spirit. His wakening was not sudden – there was no abrupt start as his mind conjured some horror that forced him into consciousness. Tassadar awoke with the ponderousness of an acolyte with a day of ritualized combat before him, slow and unwilling, scarcely cognizant of his surroundings.
Executor.
His surroundings were unfamiliar. He rose to his full height and found the steel ceiling uncomfortably close to his own head. The ground underneath him hummed with energy, an energy that intensified every few seconds. The ship is continually shifting. Recoil. I am on a warship.
The images came flooding back then, and Tassadar realized where the cold stemmed from. Fear. They are afraid. Khalai, Nerazim, turian, terran… even zerg. All afraid. Screams echoed through the Khala. Tassadar shivered.
He had been placed among row after row of gurneys upon which lay injured soldiers of numerous species, many of whom had bloodied cloth where their limbs had once been. Tassadar looked down upon them with a mixture of sorrow and pride at their sacrifice; they had stood shoulder to shoulder with the mightiest warriors of the protoss and had not shamed themselves. But is that the best we can give them? A good death? They deserve victory.
Tassadar's armor had been badly damaged, parts of it sticking into his shoulder and leg as he walked. It was not enough to cause him much more than mild discomfort, but it conjured forth more images of the creatures responsible for landing him in a makeshift turian medbay. Biotic zerg. The Overmind staring at me from Zeratul's eyes.
Tassadar had never stood upon a turian vessel before now, though he knew on instinct it was the very same ship that had made him contact with him at Mar Sara, months ago. It filled him with a strange sense of portent, as if things had come around full circle somehow. The turians and I… Victus and Tassadar. Linked by circumstance. He staggered out of the room to find the packed with grim turian soldiers. They spared him only a glance before continuing about their duties, shoving past him without issue. Fear. They are more concerned with what is happening below than a rogue protoss aboard their ship.
Following the current of fear, Tassadar half marched, half limped through the trains of turian sailors, trying not to let the twin tides of confusion and dismay dampen his spirit. It is not victory. Perhaps victory is yet to be had? He dismissed the idea that the battle was lost. He knew the ship was firing its weapon. But at what target?
The bridge was closer than Tassadar would have expected, and the atmosphere there was no more joyful. General Adrien Victus was standing bolt upright before a glowing layout of Thessia, staring out at the turians manning their consoles with an unnatural stillness.
"Confirmed hit, no effect," reported a turian to the general.
"Fire again," said Adrien, voice clipped. The ship surged with energy once more, and Tassadar, a sinking sensation in his hearts, started to intuit what they were firing at. What has happened?
"Confirmed hit," said the turian again, his voice betraying not the slightest hint of the fear that Tassadar sensed racing through his mind. "No effect."
"Fire again," said Adrien, mandibles shifting back. He stank of despair.
"General Victus!" said Tassadar, causing heads to turn as he announced himself to the bridge. "I live, though I know not how I came to be here. How fares the battle?"
"Confirmed hit," said the aide, voice now shaking slightly. "No effect."
Adrien sighed deeply, mind coming to a sudden conclusion. "Cease barrage. All ships." His eys met Tassadar's, giving the protoss pause. "The ground offensive is lost. What is left of the Council fleets is trying to flee the Ialessa system. Your fleet still stands – barely – and we control the orbit." Victus gave a mirthless laugh. "It has done us no good. I have spent the last fifteen minutes firing Momentum's main gun at the Overmind. The ground burns, the zerg around it die, but the thing is unkillable. So there is only one recourse left to us." Retreat.
"How?" asked Tassadar quietly. "What happened to the push?"
Adrien pointed to the readout of Thessia. A large swathe of dust now blanketed the Overmind's surroundings. "It pulled an orbital platform on top of our troops. Spirits… how do you fight something like that?" He shook his head sharply. "I… am sorry."
Tassadar felt down below, found only the faintest flickering of life from where he knew his friends had once stood. There, right alongside them, was the Overmind – bloated, gloating, Its eye staring back at him.
"It shouldn't have ended like this," said Adrien, voice calm, but his mind wracked with exhaustion, guilt, and fear. Fear above all. "We united a disparate galaxy – quickly, even – sacrificed so much to get here… but that Thing just sits there, deflecting our efforts at the very last moment! The killing stroke turned out to be the only one that mattered." Adrien coughed, trying to bring himself back under control. "I am sorry, Tassadar. Artanis refuses to fall back. I do not have the time or the means to take you to him, if that is what you want. Third Fleet… gets to limp away once again."
Tassadar looked to Adrien, and then to the readout. The dust swirled thick. The Overmind stared back.
Is this how it ends? Was the fate of the galaxy's peoples simply to be twisted into monstrous forms at the behest of some vile intelligence? Tassadar stared at the exact position of his enemy. Fear. Fear smothers this vessel. Victus's. Mine.
…the Overmind's.
It was undeniable. The emotion roiled through Thessia, thick as the dust the orbital platform had kicked up, coating Momentum with it. Tassadar reached out, tried not to recoil as zerg minds brushed with his, attempting to establish the most tentative of contact. The Overmind met Tassadar and recoiled. I… I am the cause of Its fear. But why? No Dark Templar remain to slay it.
"Seven Nerazim," Zeratul had said, the memory of his voice leaping unbidden into Tassadar's mind. "Wielding the Khala alongside one of our blades, Tassadar…."
Tassadar looked to his wrist, tried to activate his weapon. It sparked futilely, lighting up once before deadening. It did not react again.
"You must understand that this is not about power," Zeratul had said once as they trudged across the wastes of Char. "In some ways, this is not even about knowledge. It is about perspective."
The Overmind's perspective. It fears me. Tassadar's arms ached from numerous wounds. His hearts thudded dully in his chest. The Khala was drowned with the despair of too many close by Templar. Tassadar opened a hand and closed it, channeling a small amount of Void energy up his arm. As the ribbons of purple energy wormed their way throughout the woven flesh and spirit, the fear intensified. I… I see.
"When you merged the energies, your body began to die." Zeratul had looked to him with as if they had always been brothers, his eyes both noble and sad. "Nothing irreversible, but such connections are inevitably fatal if held for too long. Adun burnt away into nothing, protecting us. How did you feel?"
Zeratul… I felt afraid.
"General Adrien Victus," said Tassadar quietly, directing the thought to him alone. "I can win this battle, but I need you. I need Momentum. Order your men off the ship."
"How?" Adrien's response was blunt, and thought rather than spoken. "The protoss have worked miracles, but this is an enemy that cannot be slain."
"Take a trajectory directly to the Overmind, collision course," said Tassadar. "I… I will handle the rest. Are you willing? Do you trust me?"
Memories flashed through Adrien's mind, snatches of horror. Relentless drifting lifeless through unknown space. Tassadar declaring in no uncertain terms his distaste for the Council and the people within it. The protoss offensive collapsing underneath the Overmind's might. Then… a turian, a younger turian. I so often forget how frequently other sapients breed. He is a father while I am not. I am so sorry.
"We hold similar ideals, Tassadar," said Adrien, all fear and doubt fading. "Our peoples, I mean. Honor. Glory in battle. Victory through sacrifice. Even if this fails… I die knowing I did all I could for my son. For the empire." His thoughts turned again to his son. "I… would have liked to see him in person, one last time. I would have liked to walk upon Palaven, again."
"All ships, all crew!" bellowed Adrien, startling the other turians on the bridge, "this is General Victus. I will shortly be ramming the Overmind at Tassadar's suggestion. Grab the wounded and get to the evac shuttles. It has been an honor." Adrien looked to Tassadar, a steely glint in his eye. The turians around him were scrambling for the doors, half of them quite certain their general had gone mad. Those that saw the ribbon of dark energy coursing up Tassadar's arm, however, began to think otherwise. "It is your turn, Tassadar. It will take me some time to establish a vector. Then it is a matter of accelerating and… then we need not do anything at all."
"Act quickly," said Tassadar, concentrating on his arm. Slowly, he felt his psi appendages begin to light, and his brothers rejoiced to sense his presence again. His other arm started pulsing with heat.
"Tassadar, what are you doing?" Artanis sounded frantic. "Such energies… what are you doing?!"
Tassadar shut his eyes, trying to calm the fluttering of his hearts. He extended his will further, blanketing the scarred surface of the planet, seeking out the faint heartbeats of those he had fought alongside.
Kerrigan. Raynor. Fenix. They were dying so slowly, protected by their suits but still suffocating under the layers of ash and dust, of flesh and filth. The Overmind had called down the orbital platform on top of one Its own hive clusters – an act of desperate vengeance against the foes that threatened It. It killed scores of Its own children to do this...
"Our people hold similar ideals," sneered the Overmind, latching on to Tassadar with a hideous strength. "Victory through sacrifice. You do not understand My purpose. Our peoples are to be one. You think Me to be the greatest horror you have ever beheld, but I represent victory for all organic life. I am the end of the cycle. My death would make certain its recurrence. You would surrender this galaxy to the hands of machines?"
If it means Your death, then I am quite willing. Tassadar frowned, his hearts beating faster as he reached the limits of his ability with the Khala. The Overmind's grip fell away, having weakened in the face of Void energies. I can feel every living creature on Thessia. I fear not death, for the Khala is eternal… but I accept death regardless, for in the end all is Void.
The darkness of the Void slithered further up Tassadar's arm, reaching his collarbone. Close. Artanis was panicking, and Momentum had begun shedding shuttles and escape pods as its crew evacuated, fleeing for the closest cruiser, confused and scared.
"Tassadar?" Artanis yelled, his voice echoing through Tassadar's mind. "Tassadar!"
His psi appendages flowing behind him and glowing a luminescent aqua, Tassadar felt for the Element Zero core of Momentum. It flared at his caress, causing Victus to shout in alarm as his instruments went wild. Tassadar paid him no mind, focusing intensely on the sensation of cold wrapping slowly around his neck, trying to reconcile it with the Khala, with the teachings he had followed all his life.
"We are bound in this together, protoss!" snarled the Overmind, grabbing Tassadar's being only to begin slipping almost immediately. "The xel'naga willed Our union. Would you defy your gods?"
The Overmind fell away as quickly as It had appeared. Fear rippled through Thessia. Not a single zerg obeyed the Overmind's command to approach Momentum.
Tassadar stilled. He was one with his brothers in the Khala, terrified as they were, and the numb darkness had almost reached the base of his scalp, the very foundation of his racial gestalt. This is the moment. The moment I either surrender myself completely… or fall back and find another way.
There is so much still to be done. The Conclave waits for the rebels to face justice. The geth require salvation. The Council peoples lie shattered under the zerg onslaught. The terran people still stand divided. The Nerazim remain outcasts.
Tassadar's eyes opened.
But first, the Pretender God must be slain.
"Trajectory locked," said Adrien, the ship beginning to shift under their feet. "Tassadar… I am ready." Victus faltered and then stiffened, staring into the Overmind on the readout, a wry smile on his face. "It ends as it began."
With a final lurch, the scintillating dark energy locked with Tassadar's appendage, creeping up through the base and into the very foundation of his being. Tassadar gasped, his hearts thundering in his chest as if they were fit to burst. Silver light burned its way from his skull, and his mind became unbound.
With a gesture, a halo of dust and ash spread from the place his friend's bodies lay, bringing air and heat where there had been none. A trifling matter. Tassadar forgot why he had done such a thing as soon as he had finished. His mind sped through the stars, ricocheting across the consciousness of sapients.
The krogan have barricaded themselves on Tuchanka, laughing as the rest of the galaxy burns.
A thousand thousand elcor mourn the countless families torn apart.
The quarians look to each other in fear as they sense the reverberations, praying that the geth will not be attracted by the energy spike.
The Council has lost contact with their people. They will see only the aftermath, and understand it not.
Arcturus Mengsk waits with bated breath, wondering if his ploy had worked, if perhaps he should have stayed his hand and fought harder against the zerg to begin with.
Jack Harper speaks with a shadowy being whose rage and grief knows no bounds. "Duran" scowls and turns as he feels my presence, but he is no concern of mine.
Daggoth shakes in his nest, screaming at his brood warriors to approach the vessel that threatens his Father. The chrysalis beside him throbs with life and warmth.
The Conclave looks up at the sudden surge of energy, their minds aghast at the power they bear witness to. Their rhetoric halts, and they find themselves at a loss of words for the first time in a millennia.
Far away on a planet that was once green, instruments spike as my consciousness seeks them out. A terran admiral sputters in confusion before demanding an explanation from his baffled intelligence experts, his iron convictions momentarily shaken.
And in the darkness outside the galaxy, the Reapers slumber, still unaware of how badly things have gone awry.
On and on the images cascaded, each as beautiful and yet no more significant than a raindrop in a raging thunderstorm. Before the body that had once housed Tassadar stood Adrien Victus, facing away from the glowing figure and staring resolutely at the foe he had failed to slay.
All that power… all this knowledge… The psi appendages that had once been Tassadar's smoldered, burning towards the back of his scalp, their purpose having been met, and then exceeded. What had once been Tassadar's bones blackened and his hearts charred, but his mind was alive with ecstasy, intentions almost forgotten.
The bridge was coming alive with warnings, red flashes indicating an improper altitude for a dreadnought that was accelerating at improper speeds, bound for an improperly solid destination. Tassadar was not there. His mind had punched toward the layers of the universe and found them feeble, unworthy of his respect or attention. The journey neared its end.
All these moments… lead to here. If only I had known there was no need for all of that fear… all of that rage. Only a single thing yet vexes me, in these last moments of corporality. Brothers and sisters, bound by stardust, how can I explain the glory that awaits you?
The body of Tassadar, fading fast inside the growing bubble of light that flashed between the darkest of purples and the brightest of golds, found itself temporarily tethered by frustration at the lack of words that could clearly express what lay ahead. Tassadar's smoking sockets locked with Victus's retinas, who looked back in a mixture of incalculable fear and utter confusion. Tassadar bowed his body's head, trying to remember how to make it clear that what he said was of import.
"They should… have sent a poet!"
The Element Zero pulsed, and psi lightning arced through the meaningless metal. Adrien's form was flung from the vessel as the hull gave in to the tremendous stresses, large strips of metal ripped away by titanic and unknowable forces. Tassadar's body stood among the wreckage, willing his surroundings into their true form – that of pure energy. The Overmind, that feeble, wretched thing, had opened some pathetic rift in an attempt to escape. Experience eternity with me, brother. What had once been a ship closed the distance.
With a final groan, Tassadar's body evaporated completely, consumed by the energies he had harnessed. Tassadar rejoiced in his spiritual liberation, at the sense of reckless dispersal brought about by the total cessation of his form. His atoms flowed through the universe in a manner far more natural than his body ever had, and Tassadar almost forgot, for a moment, what he had originally intended.
With a ghostly shrug, he let the forces he had unleashed grab hold of Momentum's gutted carcass, let the combination of harsh physics, cold Void, and burning Khala do with the Overmind what it would. The Overmind, seconds from escaping, watched the approaching wreckage with Its single eye, which widened in fear. There was enough of Tassadar left to find that amusing.
Momentum collided with the Overmind with tremendous force, her splintered prow spearing the Being through and through. The Overmind screeched in agony as the Void penetrated Its writhing mass and reacted violently with the cosmic energies the Being had once claimed proudly to wield. Its eye blackened from the heat, and Its pain was so great that zerg across the galaxy fell dead in shock. Glowing orange cracks appeared across the Overmind's form, and the creature shook violently.
With a final heave, the Overmind burst entirely, showering Its former surroundings with carapace and gore. The heavens flashed white as the creature left Its body behind, forcibly severed from Its progeny. What was left of Tassadar marveled momentarily at the sight before losing interest. His final coherent thoughts were a fond farewell to the bipedal beings that gasped and awakened on the surface of the planet.
He wasn't sure, but they might have been important once.