Disclaimer: How to not science in 4 simple steps. Step 1, make a fanfiction account. Step 2, start a fic. Step 3, copy and paste these steps into the disclaimer. Step 4, start writing, possibly with a joke about a random quirk of your writing that really doesn't matter as much as you've made it seem to.
(I am uniquely positioned to determine the renditions of transitions, as I am the one deciding its repetitions and traditions)
Yeah, I don't get it either. ~f
(Is that your admission of cognition that I am the superior tactician in this war of attrition with an unclear mission, and that you admit to submission of your own volition?)
That's me saying that there is no literal meaning behind your words so that the readers don't think they've missed anything. He's just being wordy and rhyming every few words, people. If it makes sense, it was by accident. I think. ~f
Catalyst
If Abathur hadn't known better, he would have assumed that his former camouflage was scouting him for a kill. They hid around corners, stalked him through the library and the corridors, attempting to corner him between classes. For weeks, they had been trying to corner him. They were persistent, if nothing else. It would almost have been impressive, if he hadn't known their plans before they made them and been able to feel their minds before they got even remotely close to succeeding. Still, it was beginning to grate on his nerves.
Abathur maneuvered around the crowd blocking the exit to Ancient Runes. The terrans were approaching on the other side, preparing to block him off before he exited the room. They would not succeed. Fortunately, after this, they wouldn't have to. The second he exited the classroom, Abathur turned a corner and stayed there, waiting. With luck, they would no longer be stalking him after this.
It took only a few seconds for his former camouflage to rush by. The humans would have likely completely passed him in a few more seconds. They would only notice him if he intentionally drew attention to himself.
"Cease attempts to contact."
The terrans stopped in their tracks, and rapidly turned to face Abathur. "Where have you been?" Hermione demanded. "We've been trying to find to you for weeks!"
"Am aware. Contact, undesirable. Only purpose here, ending future attempts," Abathur replied coolly.
The silence was deafening. His former camouflage just stood there, frozen in place. Abathur was always glad to see humans getting the message quickly. It saved him a lot of time. He turned to walk away, his business concluded only to be interrupted.
"What, is that it? You're just going to avoid us for the rest of the year?" Harry asked, stepping towards Abathur. Abathur kept a close eye on the wand in Harry's pocket.
"Year, arbitrary. Will avoid for remainder of lives." Abathur stated.
"You can't be serious," Ron said, his face unnaturally pale. Perhaps he was suffering from circulation issues. Abathur could exploit that later.
"Do not understand. Am serious. Statement, unclear." Abathur said. Silence reigned once again. After a long pause, Abathur moved to walk away, only to be interrupted, yet again.
"No, you aren't," Harry said. "You're only pushing us away because you're upset."
"Abathur... we're sorry. We didn't mean to interrupt you, we were just worried, and didn't realize how important is was to you" Hermione chimed in.
If all they were going to do was spout emotion based nonsense, this was even more of a waste of time than he had already thought. Abathur continued on his way to his next class. The declaration had been given, whether they heeded it or not was out of his control. Not that he cared either way. It was not particularly hard to evade them.
"Are you really just going to walk away?" Ron asked. "If that's how much we mean to you, what was the point of being friends with us in the first place?"
That stopped Abathur in his tracks. A chill went down his spine, as he realized exactly what he was doing. Like it or not, he still needed camouflage, still needed a way to stay beneath notice. If he walked away now, he had no cover, no layer of protection, no method of blending into the crowd. If he remained outside a group, Abathur might as well invite the terrans to kill him.
Abathur turned around, and slowly walked back to the terrans, hanging his head low. A sign of submission, necessary to pull this off. When he was within half a body's length, he stopped, and raised his eyes to meet each of their's in turn. "Am..." He took a moment to inhale, as if hesitant over what to say next. He wasn't. "Sorry. Was... angry. Irrational. Interruption, at vital point." Abathur ran a quick probe across their memories for the ideal phrase. "Was not thinking straight. Forgiveness, possible?" It was, of course. This was what Boggart essence was best for.
Abathur felt the emotional change in Hermione first, quickly followed by a physical one. The muscles around her eyes relaxed, and she stepped forward, meeting Abathur halfway. Then, unexpectedly, she wrapped her arms around him. Abathur tensed, expecting an attack. He was actively resisting the reflex to kill her for getting so close, but there was no hostility in her emotions.
"Of course, Abathur. That's what we've been trying to get you to let us
do this whole time."
The other two followed her lead. "Yeah, don't worry about it," Ron said, standing behind Hermione. "We're all idiots sometimes. At least you got over it, mate."
Harry was the next to speak. "Everyone makes mistakes, you just have to admit it."
They expected a response from Abathur. Some form of acknowledgement. "Thank you." Simple and seemingly sincere. Effective.
"Don't worry about it. You can make it up to me by having a rematch in chess. Maybe you'll even learn to play this time!" Ron said.
"You're just asking that because you can't trick me into playing against you anymore," Harry chimed in.
"Still, terms acceptable. Name time," Abathur said.
And so, the conversation drifted to more mundane topics, familiar patterns reasserting themselves. The crisis had passed, for now. At the moment, he needed his camouflage and the cover they provided. If reconciliation was the price to pay for safety, so be it. But Abathur could only deal with them for so much longer. And when he was done with these humans, they would be cast aside without a second thought.
(Transition)
Breakfast and the newspaper were two things that went together in very well in the wizarding world, provided that you didn't mind the occasional owl feather in your eggs. Fortunately, Dumbledore was of the opinion that when feathers did appear, they added an excellent crunch, so he never had a problem enjoying both breakfast and the newspaper with owls flying about, as they were now.
He had been reading through old newspapers last night, looking for mentions of the Jarens, only to find Faris's obituary, and his wife's, Vivira, before that. At the very least, he didn't have to worry about Thenabar having been influenced by Death Eaters. Faris died to Tom's minions, while Vivira passed away in childbirth. But for now, Dumbledore was done with digging through the past, and was cheerfully going through the vents of the present.
It helped that this day's Daily Prophet was quite interesting. The usual political drivel and gossip was relatively rare, in favor of actual news. It must have been Ms. Skeeters day off. There were some reports on new businesses, events overseas, there was even an article on Muggles for once! Apparently they had stumbled upon a new species of magical creature, right in Scotland in fact.
Intrigued, Dumbledore turned to the page with the rest of the story and began reading. To his surprise, the new species, something the muggles had dubbed recruiter ants, were actually quite close to Hogwarts, almost directly southwest. Hagrid would be quite pleased to hear that. It could even benefit the students to have a new species to study so near to Hogwarts. With a faint smile, Dumbledore continued reading.
As he worked his way down the page, his smile vanished quickly. The ants seemed to be vicious, attacking intruders on their territory indiscriminately. Apparently they had even begun to attack humans just for being remotely near their webs. Dumbledore had to reread the casualty list twice. Several teenagers had been killed by the ants, all of them the similar in age to his students. Distressed, Dumbledore continued down the page, looking for more details.
The muggles had tried to push back the ants, only to find themselves trapped in a rune-based cage. They remained there for hours, until Ministry officials had arrived and freed them. Most distressingly, the ants had just vanished. All the information in the article had apparently come from these muggle pest controllers and the Ministry personnel who'd freed and obliviated them, after getting the whole story.
With luck, those ants would never threaten the students residing within the castle walls. Even if they came to the castle, the centaurs would keep them in check, much like they did the acromantulas. Dumbledore would get Hagrid to ask Firenze whether he had seen anything. It wouldn't hurt for Hagrid to keep an eye out, either. Maybe Hagrid could ask Firenze and the centaurs to do the same?
Investigating Thenabar could wait until he was more certain of the school's safety. The leads that Dumbledore had uncovered weren't going anywhere in the meantime.
(Transition)
There was something comforting to Abathur about being surrounded by trillions of specialized, nearly mindless killing machines who were capable of slaughtering everything in sight, and more than willing to do so at the slightest provocation. He almost felt like he was home again... almost.
The Hive flocked around him, covering trees, plants, and the ground in between. No particle of dust lay undisturbed by the hordes of insects and arachnids modified by his formerly rogue experiment. Before Abathur stood an army that could consume whole planets if let loose, eliminating, adapting to, or consuming anything and everything in its path.
Honestly, he was a bit disappointed.
The Hive seemed to almost utterly lack imagination. Many of the assimilated species were barely modified, with only a few aesthetic changes. The larger species in particular seemed to be almost completely unmodified. Especially considering that those species were ambush predators or armored herbivores, which were poor choices for the rushing masses that the Hive favored. It would be far better to take the traits from these new assimilations and distribute them across the species of the Hive.
The worms Abathur had modified for the Hive's escape were another example. Tunneling creatures almost always had massive utility as transport, ambushers, or constructors. But the Hive had used them as yet another simple weapon, a...chewing creature. It wasn't an inefficient tactic, but it was far from the best use of the worms' essence.
Even their more efficient creations were riddled with flaws. The parasite ridden flyer, for example, had elements of a masterpiece. He believed the humans called it a mosquito, a cleverly designed creature which could infect foes with parasites that quickly fed and grow within their victim, becoming larva which could burst out and attack others around them. Such a unique style of attack was something Abathur wished he'd come up with first. But the use of such a close-range attack nearly eliminated the point of a flying creature, and no effort was made to combat this shortcoming. It was just inefficient, nearly useless in more developed combat.
The smaller independent parasite was another stroke of genius. The humans called these ones ticks, if he recalled correctly. They attacked by latching onto a host and sending them into a frenzy. The concept was nothing new, Abathur had seen the protoss dark archons of the protoss do the same thing. But the actual logistics... The strain was too small to work on larger opponents, and if Abathur made it bigger, then it would be far too bulky to get to and infect its victims. The tick was not designed for rapid movement. The virus that caused the frenzy could still have use, but Abathur would have to find a completely different way to deliver it.
Then there were the Queens. Why on Char had the Hive allowed each of its strains to reproduce independently of each other? A Queen for each species was barely a step away from just reproducing sexually, and that was a poor means of breeding by any measurement. He would probably have to repurpose one species specifically into a breeder to make the Hive more efficient.
The Hive was riddled with problems to a point that bordered on absurdity. Abathur would have to work for days just to get the Hive up to mediocrity, much less something that he could be proud of. He couldn't wait to get started.
Corruptors: Few creatures in the zerg swarm inspire as much terror among the capital ships of the terran and protoss as the corruptor. The tentacled starfighter of the Swarm, the corruptor spews forth molecule disrupting ink sacs, slamming into hulls and annihilating space craft. Corruptors are also able to spew liquid in a solid stream to annihilate structures, or spray a armor weakening substance on any target, depending on the strain. They fly on tendrils of cancerous flesh, carefully regulated and used to produce thrust and lift through the electromagnetic field they create. A fleet of corruptors can shred through ships as quickly as zerglings chew through stalkers. While it is extremely strong on its own, the corruptor is often used only as a transition, a step on the way to yet more powerful creatures, such as the devastating Brood Lord. Whether as a step to stronger weapons, or as a tool to annihilate the enemy, whenever a host of corruptors enters the battlefield, any opponent of the Swarm lives on borrowed time