Disclaimer: don't own Starcraft, characters, blah blah, etc. Takes place before the Starcraft campaign.
Shola Stands
St. Treg walked the halls of the Command Center, worry clouding his mind. Too fast, too furious, these Protoss were. After weeks of assault, the Terran camp was little more than a proving ground for the last 20 marines. He woke from the constant playing of the past horrid battles to see Carla looking up from a handful of papers. Both started, she dropping the sheaf. Muttering his apology, Treg quickly gathered them for her. She offered a shy thanks and continued down the hall. Treg stopped, turned and called back to her.
"Carla!" She turned smartly, facing him with an emotionless face. "Sergeant?" Grimacing at the title, he mulled over what exactly he wanted to say. "Have… have you a tally of our current casualties?" Nodding, her eyes dropped to the page, scanning what was written there. Without looking up, she said, "Currently, our estimated death toll is forty Marines dead, five Siege Tanks, ten Medics, fifty Firebats, and twelve Ghosts. I don't think I need to tell you that our staff has undergone treage in the care and treatment of our remaining military forces."
He had known, of course, just hoped his mental tally had been wrong. "Thank you. Will you tell the staff in the medical bay that we have requested a ship to evacuate the worst of the cases?" Nodding again, she saluted, turned, and continued down the hall.
He finally came upon his unwanted destination, the War Room. Furiously muttering to himself, he strode across the hall and through the automatic doors. His four commanders turned their attention to him, some nodding, some saluting. "At ease, gentlemen. I am sure you all know our current situation?" the four nodded somberly, all too aware of what fate hung over their heads.
Treg crossed the room to the projector. "Lights," he called. The room dimmed. "Map of area forty-eight degrees west, fifteen degrees north." The screen came to life, showing the topographical view of the location. The Southwest corner showed several small blue dots, indicating the Terran base. Several lines radiated from it, exposing various mountain ranges and rivers. Black swaths covered much of the map. "As you can see, our base has been logically and methodically attacked from several key points. We know little of these Protoss, so if anyone has any ideas as to how they are receiving information, I am open to ideas." The four other men looked blankly at each other.
Eventually Yareez stood. "Commander Yareez?" Treg said. Looking around uncomfortably, Yareez expressed himself quickly. "Perhaps… Perhaps they have some inside informant?" Treg shook his head. Unfortunately, I can't believe that, as each of our men is fanatical about their hate of the Protoss invaders. And, no man has ever been subsequently far from the attack points. Obviously, they have some way of obtaining their knowledge without requiring our own men. Map, zoom in on Southwest quadrant of map." The view of their base and its perimeter expanded, showing in greater detail the numerous buildings and troops positions at the moment.
"Look at our base, examine where they have attacked from, and the troop layout at the time," Treg called out several number codes, and red flashes appeared on the screen. "Each time we gathered our troops away from one entrance to another, preparing to move out a force, they hit the weakest of our outer perimeter." Rarg stood. "Sir, it seems apparent to me that they have some way of knowing when we move our forces, and to where," Treg nodded, "Very good, Commander Rarg. Now, gentlemen, I propose a plan. I suggest we move our forces entirely out of one border road, return them to camp, and see what happens. If they attack, then we should be able to pull out more forces from other waypoints, and pool enough of our men together to squash whatever arrives here. Risky, I know, but as I see it, we have no other options. Agreed?" Reluctantly, they all nodded. "Good. Commander Rarg, I want you to have twenty Firebats ready with the order to withdraw to base. I want them with full stimpacks. Understood?" Rarg saluted with fist to heart. "Yareez, I want four Ghosts stationed behind the walls of the entrance we leave open. Keep them cloaked, with Lockdown missiles ready. If they see anything they think can be shut down temporarily, I want it down." Yareez nodded and started counting something off on his fingers. "Geen, I want you to have fifteen Marines' names ready to march at a moment's notice. Each will need two Stimpacks, one for either arm. When they feel themselves coming down, they are to launch themselves so high into the sky they won't be back 'till they're back celebrating the holidays with their families two years from now. Understood?" Laughing, Geen nodded his assent. "Carlos, have your siege and three others waiting in between our buildings. Don't plant yourselves, wait until the enemy is pouring through the wall. Then, let her rip." Nodding sagely, Carlos stood. The double doors opened, and Carla walked in. "Carla, you're late. Have all your Medics on a special alert. They are to be gathered in the square when I call. I want each ready with twenty flares. Ladies and gentlemen, tomorrow may very well be our last day. But, I'm going to take out as many of those alien scum as I can before I kick the bucket." They all laughed, voicing their agreement. Smiling for the first time in days, Treg went to get some sleep.
Taarlin woke from his doze. Several of his brethren stood nearby, keeping a sharp watch for anything the Terrans might be able to muster and send at them. Saaj turned to him. "For Aiur, brother of the blade. Word arrived while our leader slept from the Executor. He has received the report that the road ahead of us is clear. We can make a clean and easy break for the Terran camp." Nodding, Taarlin checked his psionic matrix. His shields at full, his blades powered up, nothing could stop him this day. Today would be the day the Terrans would be eliminated from this holy ground. Behind him, several gyros whirred in anticipation.
Taarlin stomped over to the Dragoons, inspecting their joints for any possible problem. Squat and low to the ground, it took quite a bit of kneeling to make sure his fallen brothers were still ready for battle. "Please, Taarlin, see to the living. Annexing yourself to our service will only prepare you for what you should not be worrying about. All is for Aiur, and the council," One of the Dragoons said through the psi emitter centered just below its Psi Disruptor. Taarlin reluctantly nodded, returning to the other Zealots. Where are the Templar?" he asked of no one in particular. Saaj answered him. "They said they must commune before our final assault was to begin." The trees parted from a nearby clearing, and warp blades sprung to life from every zealot. Through the brush floated a creature made entirely of ether and psionic emanations. "It is we, Yuushi and Petra. Through our communion with our brothers so far away, we learned the secret to a higher form. Now, we are as close to the Khala as is possible," Taarlin had only heard about these magnificent beings before, and he now realized seeing and hearing were quite different. "Very well, Tem… Archon, shall you be assuming command now?" A rumble sounded from the form, sounding as water running over stones. "No, Taarlin, the Executor placed you in charge, and so shall it be. Your will is ours." Nodding to himself in earnest, Taarlin rubbed his hands together, hoping to generate some small amount of warmth in the crisp morning air.
Long weeks had passed, him waiting for this day. It seemed like a dream. Maybe this would be the day he joined his fallen brothers in the steel cocoon of a Dragoon, as he had always wanted. Maybe this would be the day he became a hero…
Shaking the thoughts of his reverie away, he turned to Saaj. "Well, brother, do you know where this breach in the Terran defense is?" Nodding, Saaj took the lead, the rest following a short distance behind, trying to make not noise. The Archon appeared to be trying to melt into itself, vastly decreasing its size to slightly bigger than a Zealot. For the better part of an hour they walked, Saaj slowly slinking along, The rest following a ways back. They finally saw the observer pulling tight rings in the air, sending a constant stream of intelligence back to the Executor and his well-trained staff. Ahead, there were two bunkers that had barely held off the Protoss attacks.
Now, Taarlin ducked, preparing to rush into a deadly fray with his opponents. Saaj halted the troupe with a hand, and walked back. "This is the way through. Both are empty, and we know not why. Perhaps there is a clue within the Terran buildings?" nodding, Taarlin signaled two more Zealots forward, and the group of four cautiously approached the bunkers. At first, he expected muzzle blasts to appear from the slits, but when none came, he increased his pace and straightened to his full height. As he finally reached the first of the set, he peered around curiously, then climbed the steps to a small steel door set in the side of the egg-shaped building. Forming a Psi Blade, he stabbed into the door, cracking the lock. Relaxing his mind, the blade dissipated, and he heaved the door open.
Inside, there were cartons of half-eaten food, several pallets on the floor, a table with a stack of odd pieces of lacquered paper, and a small video screen. Approaching the table, he noticed something else under it. A small black box with a red light. He picked it up, examining it. The red light turned to yellow. His brow furrowed, confused. The yellow turned to green. Then, his brow shot up in alarm. The three other Zealots were looking around nervously. "RUN," he yelled, then made a mad dash for the door. He burst through into the early morning sun, Saaj at his side.
The building exploded, sending large pieces of shrapnel everywhere. Many shot at him, but embedded in his Psionic Shielding before coming within a foot of his body. Rolling, he came to his feet, Psi Blades at the ready, facing the destroyed building. Nothing else moved. He hurried back, tossing sheets of burnt metal out of his way. He found his two brethren, their Psi Foci destroyed, steel shafts cutting through their armor and into taught gray skin.
The rest of the party moved forward, mumbling prayers for the dead. Taarlin could only think of his failure. Saaj patted his shoulder. "It is alright, brother. They died in defense of the Executor. There could be no greater cause. We must continue our mission, though, or they will have died in vain." Nodding glumly, Taarlin pulled his gaze from the wreckage of the building. "These pathetic Terran will pay for this," He vowed. The others angrily agreed, the shock of what had happened wearing off.
For ten minutes they followed the road. Then, the palisade surrounding the Terran camp came into view. Flicking his hand in several gestures, Taarlin directed his force into a proper battle formation. The Archon held the middle of the front, Zealots to either side. The few Dragoons that had been given to his command made a clump behind the Archon. Taking one last deep breath, Taarlin ordered the group forward.
Just inside the walls, they all looked about fearfully, expecting an attack at any time. Taarlin could see the great semi-circle of the main base slightly off to the left. To either side were warehouse-like buildings, all closed tightly. Nothing moved.
Then a human stepped out from behind one of the warehouses in the distance. He was dressed in a black uniform, and held a pistol in one hand. "Welcome, venerable Protoss, to our base of operations on the fringe world of Shola. Unfortunately for you, this will be your only visit to our humble abode, and you will not be leaving." Taarlin stepped forward. "Your forces have not had the power to defeat us yet, Terran. What makes you so sure of yourselves now?" The man smiled. "Why, that you have followed my plan exactly as I thought you would. Now you are trapped. All, forces, advance!" the last was obviously a signal, as each of the great doors on the warehouses opened, revealing row upon row of pristine Power Armored figures. They clunked out of their hiding spots, stopping a scant twenty yards from the Protoss invaders.
Taarlin knew that his force would never be able to defeat this. There were far too many. Without turning, he said, "Dragoons, your service has been of valuable aide. I ask you to summon your last resolve and stand behind us as we escape." No reply came. He finally turned, seeing them powered down, unable to move or speak. Figures stepped from the shadows behind the wall, seemingly materializing from it. They wore scant bits of armor over their chest and head, leaving the rest of them exposed to attack. He knew they wouldn't be able to keep him from fighting his way out. There were only four of them, even without the Dragoons it wouldn't be hard. Then he heard the sound of feet outside the palisade.
Another dozen figures crunched to a stop in the opening, effectively blocking his force in. Taarlin finally realized this would actually be the end for him. Maybe his will to fight would be restored to him from the Ether with a call to the Dragoon…
The Terrans guarding the exit suddenly turned. The muzzles on their guns flared to life. Less than a second later half the line of Marines was replaced with red stains and blood-colored mist. The other half soon followed. Taarlin gaped at the carnage before him. It seemed to terrible for words. But, it had saved his men. "Get out of here, now!" he howled, shoving Zealots towards the now clear opening. They started shakily gaining their feet, fleeing. The Archon stared a minute, then silently floated towards the gateway to freedom. The Terran commander was not as happy about this relevation. "Tanks, FIRE! I want those bastards dead! All forces forward!" The troops started forward, flames licking to life in several of the uniform arms.
The Dragoons finally seemed to be able to move, and they snapped into a spider-walk after the Archon. Just as Taarlin moved, the world exploded in a blast of light, knocking him to the ground. Saaj was at his side, helping him up. Mumbling a thanks, he hurried with his friends into the now-forgotten carnage of the former Marines. On the other side, a robot similar to a caterpillar was stationed, servos whirring and beeps emanating from the front. A Marine came into view, and the robot spat out a blue ball of light. The ball of light approached the Marine line now forming. Several aimed at the light, but it was too fast, and their reflexes too slow. As it collided into it's target, the air took on a bluish hue and the light expanded. As it reached the size of the Power Armor, it enveloped the nearest Marines. A scream of terror erupted from them before they burst into thousands of pieces.
Suppressing a shudder at the sight, Taarlin sprinted to the thing and knelt next to it. Saaj hunkered down next to him, mischief lighting in his eyes. Taarlin. Taarlin smiled. The Executor had not forgotten him. I live for your eminence. Do you wish me to assist this tool of your will? He had to wait several seconds for a reply Yes. On its back is a panel. Open it. He did as instructed. Inside, there will be a hole, a button, and a screen displaying a bar and a number. Now, listen carefully. This robot can only hold five or so of those balls of light. If it runs out, the Terran will be able to break through. Insert one of the chunks of mineral I gave you into the hole, then insert another, and another, until you have expended them all. Then, regroup. When the number on the screen reaches zero, attack. Do you understand? Taarlin acknowledged his master, and did as instructed. While he worked, he told Saaj to take command of the troops. His task finished, Taarlin watched in morbid fascination as the Terran ranks were cut down.
The others finally returned, some worse for wear. Taarlin watched the number on the machine intently. It finally reached zero, and he raised himself from his crouch. Looking to the others, he nodded, and raced to the now red entrance of the Terran base. The day was not over, and there were still Terran to kill.
Treg watched in tears as the Dropship left. Pounding his fist on the ground as he sobbed in agony, he mumbled over and over, "It was my fault…" Carla patted his back. "Sergeant, please, none of us could have foreseen the power of those… monstrous creatures. It wasn't your fault. You did your best. Please get up. For me? Please?" Nodding numbly, Treg rose to his shaky feet, staring vacantly at his surroundings. The base was in ruins, not a single building stood. Bars standing as high as his shoulder seemed like fingers clawing their way out of the chaos. Throughout the chaos of the destroyed buildings were strewn piles of shredded Power Armor. The Protoss had proven too strong for the good firepower of Terran weaponry. But the Protoss hadn't escaped unharmed, either. Numerous bodies of those despicable warriors lay strewn about as well. Even the gutted, slime-infested remains of Dragoons lay upon the ground. Once those blue lights had stopped, he thought they were sure to win, even after their heavy losses.
But fate had frowned on them, and the warriors were just as fierce as the blue light. Thankfully, the last of the Protoss had turned and left, leaving nothing but wreckage and scattered remnants of the Terran inhabitants. Once they saw that most of Treg's well-maintained military was gone, they destroyed every building, and left. The few Medics that had been off duty at the time had been mistaken for civilians, and were now out checking for any possible survivors. The few they had found were on that fleeting speck on the horizon. Treg suddenly realized there were Medics surrounding him. Looking down, he noticed a gaping hole in his side. His eyes rolled into his head, and he collapsed.
Treg woke to the sound of weeping. Slowly, he opened an eye. Beside him sat Carla, her head on his chest as she cried. He tried to bring his hand up, but she noticed it. Turning to his face with bloodshot eyes, she said, "Why… why didn't you tell me you were hurt? You would have been away from this hellhole." Treg groaned as she sat up. He was horribly stiff, since all they had for him to sleep on was apparently a pallet on the ground. "Well, you weren't on the Dropship, and where would I be without you?" She frowned at him. "You would have been safer. Who knows when those bastards may return to finish us off."
Gasps sounded from the people surrounding them. Treg turned his head, and saw one of those fierce Protoss walking towards him. Carla let out a growl, hurling herself at him. Nonchalantly, the warrior grabbed her wrist and spun her off to the side. She choked in ire as she dropped to the ground, quickly hauling herself up. Before she could launch another assault at the thing, Treg intervened. "Wait, Carla. He's obviously not trying to hurt anyone. Let him be." Carla laughed cynically. "Oh, they meant no harm. They just wanted everyone here killed and the place razed. No harm in that that I can see. Stop playing a fool, Treg. Face the facts. We're gonna have to fight with our last breath. I say kill him now, before he brings another ten down on us!" Treg shook his head and shot her a glare. She started to wander off, muttering angrily to herself. The Protoss looked after her. "You are the leader of these people?" Treg closed his eyes and nodded. "That I am. But as you can see, there's really nothing left here to destroy. Just let us await the arrival of another ship, so we can leave? All that's left are women and workers. Not a fighter left. There's nobody to raise a hand, much less a finger, against you."
The warrior stared at him a moment. "You speak wisely, as I knew you would. Obviously we meant you to live. You seem to understand that not everything must be ended violently. As my master sees it, you started the war, we were merely defending our planet. I am the leader of the mighty Zealots of Shola, Taarlin. If you be so kind as to allow us some privacy?" He said the last staring at the nearby medical technicians, all staring awkwardly or angrily at him. Treg glanced at them. "Leave us, please." Several started at the intrusion of their thoughts, staring murder at him. But finally, they started to wander off. Treg looked at Taarlin. "And now, if you would please lower yourself to me. I'm afraid I am too weak at this time to greet you properly. Taarlin barked a laugh, and sat next to Treg's palate.
"Well met, commander."
"Sergeant, please, commander." Treg admonished. "Please, we have no rank amongst my people but commander and servant. I meant no disrespect to you, sergeant," Taarlin put emphasis on sergeant. Treg sighed. "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with your people, and you obviously did not come here to tell me of them. So if you would get to the heart of the matter…?" Taarlin nodded. "Indeed I will. I would believe you Terran did not know this planet was sacred ground to my clan?" Treg nodded he was correct. "And I would also say you did not know we do not allow outsiders near any holy site?" another nod. "Then it is perfectly understandable that you were unaware as to why you were being attacked. Allow me to say that we Protoss are not normally so war-like, but you must understand that you have pushed us to the brink with this atrocity."
"You also must understand that we were simply trying to extend our knowledge of this area. We were to move on shortly, after constructing an orbital platform over this planet. Would that also have violated your laws?" Taarlin thought a moment. "I do not believe so. I would believe that to do so, we would have had to strike a bargain, but the fact of the matter is you stepped onto this world. That leaves us free of all charges. If you had brought the platform from another place, instead of constructing it here, we would have come to an agreement with each other."
Treg laid back down. "I see. Well, I have sidetracked you far from what we were discussing. Please continue." Taarlin leaned back, trying to find a comfortable posisiton. "Well, I have explained most of our side of the story. Now that we have obviously defeated you, we are willing to strike a bargain. If you wish to come to our base and take up residency with our people to learn our ways, we would consider you an honorary Protoss, and our planet would be as yours. This offer extends to you and any here, but we will accept no military in this contract. Once you have learned of our ways, we will allow you to build your platform. I believe this will satisfy both of our needs?" Treg was sitting up again. "You mean that to build our platform, I have to learn to be a Protoss? Won't that take years?" Taarlin looked at him. "What are several years? They are but water in a pond." Treg laughed. "I assume you do not understand my plight. The platform will take at least ten years to build. And I imagine that learning your ways will take as much as that if not more." Taarlin gave him a blank stare. "I am afraid I do not see you're 'plight.' Could you please explain it to me?"
Treg looked at him as if he had another head. "I know I may look young for my age, but not that young. I'm fifty, so I won't have finished all that I need to before I'm seventy. By then I would be too old to finish it all." Taarlin threw back his head and roared with laughter. "You are only fifty? And you lead this camp? Why, I am two hundred, and many consider me too young for my post. I see no problem with this. You will still have quite a bit of your life ahead of you." Treg's jaw nearly dropped out of his head. "You're two hundred! Apparently there is a great bit of difference between our people. Terran people only live to ninety, if that. Most die earlier than that from disease. No Terran will ever live to the age of two hundred, much less whenever one of your people die." It was Taarlin's turn to stare. "You only live to ninety? How… how do you understand life if you only live to ninety?"
"We don't." Treg muttered. Taarlin shook his head mutely. "This development may indeed throw a thorn into the metaphorical warp matrix." Treg nodded. "This is apparently going to only end with war. Both our people will suffer terrible losses. I'm sorry, commander Taarlin, but there is no chance that I would ever be able to do as you require."
Taarlin rose, sympathy in his eyes for this lower creature. "I understand, sergeant. Well, I will leave you and your followers now. Please, do not harbor ill will against us. If there is a foolhardy attack against us in any way, we will take it to be at your command, and the rest of you will be eliminated. As it is, I believe it will take us years to rebuild this area to its natural beauty." Treg nodded a goodbye and lay back down to sleep.
Taarlin passed into the canyon, terrified of what those Terran must think after living only ninety years. Saaj materialized from the shadows dropping to a knee. "Commander. All is well with your troops. We have had no sighting of these Terran. Peace and tranquility harbor us in their womb." Taarlin tapped his shoulder, signaling him to his feet. "Please, Saaj, be not so formal with me. I may be your superior, but we are still brothers." Saaj looked at him oddly but still nodded assent. "Did you find out why they are violating one of our strictest laws?" Taarlin sighed. "Yes. Unfortunately, I found out much more that has hampered our plans for peace. There is no way they can as we ask. They… they live to be no more than a child…"
"A child, Taarlin? You cannot mean they never go beyond childhood they were a very real threat on the battlefield." He shook his head. "No, I mean for us they never go beyond childhood. The eldest of those at the camp was maybe fifty-five by what I have heard." Saaj laughed. "So you mean to tell me that these Terran cannot even comprehend most of what we know!" Taarlin shook his head, still too horrified by the thought to speak.
Taarlin snapped his fingers. The other five Zealots stepped from shadows around the pass. They grouped around him, preparing to leave.
Then, a buzzing filled the air. Most glanced around nervously. Taarlin grew puzzled. "This is most curious. In all my years, I have never heard this before. Have any of you?" All shook their heads, still trying to find the source of the noise. The ground rumbled. The Zealots all fell to the ground, scrambling to the walls to try and maintain their balance upon straightening. Mounds appeared in the ground, growing by the moment. One burst open, revealing something Taarlin could only describe as a monster. Its body was covered in chitinous plates. Its form was like that of a Dragoon, but more oblong, with shorter, bent legs. Several projections shot from the head area. Three formed a cone, the ends hooked like teeth. Around the cone were half a dozen arm-like appendages, ending in hooked claws.
The other holes burst, revealing more of the things. Several screeched, then ran at the Zealots. The first that reached one opened its strange mouth, and clamped down on the Protoss. His Psi Matrix repelled the attack, leaving the creature gripping mid air, a faint blue aura spreading out from where the violent attack had stopped. It roared in bestial fury, sending the arms into a frenzy of motion. Again and again they smashed into the wall. The proud warrior was too terrified to attack as the thing clawed at him in a futile effort.
Ever so slowly the blue started to fade, until it disappeared. The thing sprang forward, latching its mouth onto his head, snapping and clawing at him. Taarlin, seeing the death of one of his brethren, finally regained his nerve. The other things were attacking other Zealots, all too afraid to move against them. He roared and launched himself at the one that had finally broken the poor Zealot's shield. It turned to face him, but its chitin wasn't strong enough to repel his psi blades. They cut through two arms at a time, leaving the thing with nothing but a snapping beak. It tried to grab his head as it had the other, but it all it could catch was air. Taarlin took the opportunity to slam one of his blades deep into the base of the beak. The thing squealed, then crumpled to the ground. Several Zealots had been shaken back to reality, and were fighting back.
As suddenly as it had started, it ended. The last of them wailed and fell to the ground writhing in pain. He took status of the situation. Four of the seven were on the ground, heads gone or torsos gored. Saaj lay against the wall, one of his arms several feet away. His head lolled to one side, and his entrails gaped from the wounds in his stomach. Taarlin could take no more. He ran at one of the writhing things, mauling it with his weapons. Again and again he drove them into it, tendrils of blood flying everywhere. It splattered against his shield, hiding him in a cloud of red.
Several of the survivors pulled him away, trying to restrain him. They tried calming him, saying, "Be at ease, Taarlin. We share your pain. Please, you must keep your head." And "Who will lead us out of here if you are off on some hunt for wherever these things came from?" He slowly regained sanity. His voice was choked, as he spoke, "All… All I can see is his body in my head. Gored, and for what purpose? These… Thing's enjoyment! I couldn't save him… He was too young to die." One of his brethren patted his shoulder. "Let's get going, Taarlin. There's nothing left we can do." He let himself be dragged along by them.
Halfway through the canyon, he raised his head. "Be easy, Taarlin, we will take you home." He pulled himself away. "No! I can't allow this to happen?" The others looked uneasily at each other. Had their commander gone mad? He may be in charge, but illness would revoke his command. He ran off, back the way they had come. None of the Zealots cared to lose their heads to those things. Wishing him the best of luck, they moved onward towards home.
Taarlin slumped to the ground, exhausted. One of the Terran stood over him. "Well well, back to gloat some more, you scum? Or have you reversed your stance and come to slaughter the rest of us?" Taarlin pushed himself to his feet, gulping air after the long run. "I… must speak… with Sergeant Treg." The man spat on him and walked away. He shook his head, not comprehending this action.
Slowly Taarlin circled the camp, asking anyone he saw. Most yelled or spat at him. Some followed him, throwing rocks that bounced off his shield harmlessly. He finally found the Sergeant, on his pallet, sleeping peacefully. That woman was sitting next to him, stroking his hair. As his shadow fell over the pair, she looked up at him. Her eyes narrowed, hate filling them. "You again! Haven't you toyed with us enough! Why not just bring in that horde out there and finish us off! We ought to kill you now, before they fall on us again!" Taarlin sat, staring at the man on the ground. "Will he… recover?" Her hate faltered as she, too, looked at Treg. "I… I don't know. He is very weak right now," Her hate and fear returned. "Because you and your friends destroyed everything here! Leave now, or you may find you're not as strong as you think you are." Suddenly, he couldn't take this woman's effects any more. She had pushed him over the brink, and now he couldn't return.
Taarlin stepped towards her. "Will you never understand! I did that for my planet and my people! You will never know how much it hurt me to do those things. To kill so many lives for nothing…" He gazed into his memories. She edged nervously away, seeing the wrath blossom in his eyes. His gaze finally turned to her. "You are blinded by your ignorance. I should leave you to your fate. I came again to warn you. Warn you that there is something on this planet that will kill us all. But now I see you won't believe me anyways. So I will leave, and hope you live through the storm that is about to come." She stared as he walked away. "Wait."
Taarlin turned at her voice. She stared at the ground. "Maybe… maybe I judged you too quickly by your actions. I was blinded by what had happened, and never realized there may be more than killing to you and your kind. Please, stay a while, so that he can hear your words?" He glanced at the man on the ground, pondering. "For a while I shall stay, out of trust that you are speaking from your heart. Do not prove me wrong." He dropped to the ground, crossing his legs, watching the sergeant. The woman sat with him, drawing designs in the dirt. Finally, she spoke in barely a whisper, "Can you tell me why you attacked us, yet now try and help us?"
Taarlin glanced at her. "I can. We attacked you because this planet is not meant for others, and I help you now to try and save lives. Lives that do not deserve to die from some threat they know not of." Carla sat mute. "What have you seen," she said, pushing dirt around with her finger, "that has you in such a lather?" Taarlin sighed. "I have seen war come anew to this planet. This time, I fear the invaders will be much fiercer, no offense intended to you Terran." She nodded silently.
Treg groaned. Carla rushed to his side. Ever so slowly, his eyes opened. "Hello, Carla. I see you've calmed down a bit." She nodded to Taarlin. "He helped with that." Treg glanced at the Protoss. "Back again, eh? More philosophy to relate?" Taarlin chuckled at the jest. "If only it were so. Unfortunately, I bear worse news. There is a new threat on Shola. It not only threatens you, but us as well." Treg sat up, intent now on his words. "And you have come to us because…" Taarlin pointed at the people milling about. "These Terran don't deserve to die the way my men did; with a claw through their backs." Treg struggled to sit up, Carla assisting him. "Then I'll have to rally them, and start setting up defenses again. I don't think we'll live, but we can try." Taarlin cleared his throat. "That… won't be necessary. I have orders. On my way home, we were attacked, and on the way back here, I conferred with my superiors. You, and your camp, are to be exterminated." Carla dropped the man with a grunt. "I thought you were different now, Protoss! There's still only one of you, and many of us." She started advancing on him again
Taarlin motioned with his hands to try and ease her. "Please! You don't understand. I refuse to follow that directive, I'm here to lead you to safety, somewhere I know of that you can hide in until your ships arrive." Treg called to her. She faltered, glaring murder at Taarlin. Finally, she receded back to the pallet. Treg then directed his speech to Taarlin. "Tell me the nature of the attack, I may be able to better determine where to go." Taarlin nodded. "The enemy attacked from the ground, like burrowed insects springing from a nest. They fell on us from all sides, killing my men faster than I had thought possible. My men left me then to do as I would; they thought me mad at the time from grief. I then decided to come here and try to help. The Executor was wrong, you should not be killed, for a simple error. If you agree to come to me, I'll take you to a secluded area I know with plenty of fresh water and food. You can send the dropships there from here, it's only a mile or so."
Treg thought for a time. "I believe you are correct in your assumptions. Carla, gather up the survivors. Tell them to get what gear they can carry, but only what they can carry on their back. When that's done, report back here. Taarlin, I assume you have a plan for defense as well?" As Carla ran to do as directed, Taarlin nodded. "I am disobeying a direct order. That is a capital crime, one tantamount to treason. For you and your kind, I am giving up my home. I am thus committed, at the edge of a cliff. Will you push me, or give me your hand?" Treg extended his. Taarlin shook it. "Taarlin, we will shelter you the best we can until the end of our days. And then, may our children shelter you. I am not of high standing in our army, but what little power I have, will be used on your behalf." Taarlin nodded. "Thank you, Treg. I hope neither of us will live to regret this."
The entire Terran camp had followed Taarlin for the better part of two hours through crags and canyons. In the distance, green dotted the horizon. Treg strained his eyes to see what it was. "Is it just me or is this land barren?" Taarlin laughed. "You have seen little of this planet. The place I'm taking you to is a jungle. It's so dense that attack is near impossible. We shall be safe there, I assure you." Treg nodded, still staring at the green ahead. "If you say so. How do you know of this place?" Taarlin gestured with a hand, as if to help explain. "Several years ago I was a scout for my Executor. I traveled far afield, looking for possible settlements for us. This place is rich in resource, read to flourish as a new outpost for the Empire. Thankfully, we have never had the reserves to establish the base, or we would be walking into a deathtrap right now."
Taarlin crept forward, weary of what he saw. Treg looked at the same place as Taarlin. "What is that thing? Is it supposed to be here?" Treg asked, fear tinging his words. A giant crystal sat in a base amidst the foliage of the forest. Taarlin slowly approached it. "Quiet, Treg. I will explain in a minute. But first, I must remedy this situation. Wait here." With that he disappeared ahead. Treg signaled the others to stop, most un-shouldering their load, groaning in relief at the rest. Carla laid a hand on his shoulder. "Have you ever seen anything like that before? It's huge!" It was indeed, towering at least twice as tall as Treg. Taarlin scrambled back into view, blades flickering out of existence. "We have trouble." He announced, as if saying he liked toast for breakfast. "Oh really. Well, could you please tell me what it is?" Treg asked, his irritation rising at Taarlin's voice. Taarlin stared at him quietly. "I apologize, Treg. I meant no disrespect.
"The problem is they decided to start the expansion. However, there is good news. They dared not expend much on defense yet. Only several of my brethren stand watch, and less than half that in Dragoons. This here is called a Pylon. It allows us a stable matrix in which we can bring buildings here from other areas. They are already built on Aiur, simply awaiting a point in which they are told to warp." Treg sat confused. "But… How does that work? The time and space continuum would be destroyed if we could simply move things randomly." Taarlin stared at him skeptically. "I am not a master at Warp Fields and the Matrix Energy allotment. All I know is how to use the shields of my armor and the blades of it. If you wish to know the intricacies of Warp Fields, I suggest you ask a Templar. However, I doubt you will get more than two words out of them."
Treg grunted something noncommittal. "Well, what now? Is there another spot nearby we could get to?" Taarlin dropped into a combat stance, lifting a fist and putting his weight on his back leg, saying, "I said there were few guards. We will destroy this base, and take it for ourselves." The blade at the wrist of his raised fist shimmered into existence. Treg stood stunned for a minute, then replied, "You would kill your own people?" Taarlin nodded grimly. "They are no longer my people. You are. To the end, I stand at your side." Treg closed his gaping mouth. He never truly realized how much Taarlin had meant what he had said.
Eventually, Treg nodded. "Let's go." Taarlin nodded. "I will tell some of your men how to disassemble this Pylon. Lead the rest ahead," He said, pulling several men out of the column. "Catch us up later. We will see if we can demolish the base for you," Treg proffered. Taarlin nodded as he spoke to the men. "Let's go, Treg," Carla said, standing at his side.
As the column started forward again, Taarlin showed the three the weakness in the shields, and how to exploit it. "These shields can be drained easily. All you must do is set a massive amount of force upon them. See that tree over there? Cut it down, onto the Pylon. The force will be such that the shield bursts on impact, the tree will continue on, and shatter the crystal. When you have done that, come after us." The three saluted, and got to work at chopping down the tree Taarlin had pointed to.
He ran as fast as he could back to the others, trying to make up the scant amount of time he had lost. Stumbling through the brush, he finally reached the clearing, and seeing what he had ached not to see, even though it had to happen. The bodies of the Zealots littered the ground, most with wounds oozing blood. The two Dragoon's cases had been split, blue puddles seeping out of them. The Terran were firing endless streams of lead into the Pylons and Nexus. One of the Pylons burned with eerie blue flame, another's shield was down, and the last was still deflecting bullets. The Nexus was in better shape, it's shield still shining a brilliant blue wherever a shot hit.
Taarlin ran for the Nexus, shouting for them to stop. He finally managed to quiet the blasts. Several flames licked up from it by that time, but it stood. That was all that mattered. Treg walked over to him. "Why did you stop them? The enemy may be able to know what happens out here," Treg said, perplexity showing in his features. Taarlin stared at the building. "They cannot see it unless there someone to report it is so. We monitor only that a building stands, not its condition. Pylons aren't monitored, we could tell if a building wasn't getting power if they were dead. But kill this, and they come down on us like a rabid wolf." Treg nodded, seeing the wisdom of what he said.
"There is another reason, too. There are things within that will help us. If you will follow me, I can show you," Taarlin said, gesturing for Treg to follow.
The main hall to the monolithic structure was vast. A walkway suspended over water cut the chamber into four. Blue lights topped pillars rising out of the water, giving everything a sterile blue tint. A faint, cool breeze emanated from the place, keeping the hot wet air from intruding on the solace granted within. Treg gaped at the size of the place, saying, "Such a marvel as this has no right to exist. What did you want to show me?"
Taarlin had reached the middle, Treg trailing a short distance behind. He then turned to Treg, announcing, "To the left is the probe construction area. Straight ahead is the control room, which operates all the machinery. To the right are the barracks. Probes will be quite useful, while the control room will allow us reign over a new domain. Go grab two of your most intelligent men, I will show them the Probe creation process. Then, I will show you how to operate the rest of the building as best I can." Treg glanced around once more, then went to get his two best scientists.
It had been two hectic weeks since the Terran had taken the Nexus, and all was now running smoothly. Several Probes had been made, and were gathering resources as fast as they could, for Treg had great plans for their survival here. Taarlin had known little of great help, but the scientists that had lived through the massacre were able to find out much more with his assistance.
Carla ran down the walkway towards the glowing rectangle leading out into the humid jungle air. She remembered little of the past weeks, besides wondering when the next dropship would arrive, hopefully carrying her back to somewhere less intrusive on her health and well-being. Treg had changed since meeting the Protoss Taarlin, and at times she hardly recognized him as the man that had stolen her heart. However, he was still her commander, and still in charge of what was to be done.
As she reached the end of the path, two silhouettes were outlined. The Protoss loomed over the Terran, but both were equally imposing. She slid to a stop on the polished metal floor, coming to attention. Treg turned from staring outside to her. "Please, come look at it. Taarlin says it is about to finish," He called over his shoulder, after waving a hand to drop her rigid posture.
Scowling, she stomped to the door, brushing against his arm. Outside, she could see a myriad of blues and whites weaving themselves together. Over the past two hours, they had stood, watching as the net weaved closer and closer, closing itself into a definable object. Now, the structure holding the crystal was almost complete, all but the tips of the jagged crystal woven into shape and being. A flash of light burst from the object, flaring with a keening wail. Carla covered her eyes, awed past her anger for the moment. When her arm dropped back to her side, a Pylon like the ones she had seen weeks before sat in a mooring cage.
A Probe glided past, whirring internally. A chunk of ore was held between two prongs extending from the front, just below the sensor nodes. Taarlin placed a hand on the pad over the flat surface of its hull. Obediently, it stopped, did a maneuver similar to a U-turn, and stopped before him. "Probe, Execute transfer protocol eight dash four, Gateway Warp Procedure, at co-ordinates Pylon one sector eight." Several affirmative bleeps came internally from the thing, and it glided back out into the sweltering heat. Stopping a short distance from the Pylon, it rearranged itself. The part holding the ore dropped down into the hull, and two arm-like apparatus extended from the cavity in the hull. Faster than her eye could track, it wove several invisible strands of air together. After repeating this process several times, the air it moved over began to thicken. Soon, the web of wiry light was again humming in the air. The arms dropped back into the hull, the ore extended into its original position, and the Probe went along its way.
"I believe you came on some urgent business, since you seem to have forgotten I was once your friend, not just your comrade," Treg said over his shoulder, watching the new web slowly expand over the ground. Carla steeled herself for the coming exchange. Sighing, she finally said, "Sergeant, when the next Dropship comes, I wish to go aboard it."
Treg finally turned completely around to face her. "Have I really changed that much to you? I thought you could see why we were here." Carla swallowed the lump in her throat, finally managing to say, "Why are we here? Don't you remember? We're here because your CO told you to come to this planet and build a platform in its orbit! Now why are we here? I thought we were just staying here to wait for the Dropships, so we would be better protected. Now, you're talking about beating back the Protoss and whatever these other things Taarlin speaks of are!" The glint in Treg's eye faded. He stared at her for several minutes. Finally, he said, "You're right. What has come over me? It's as if I forgot all of that, and could only remember what had happened to Taarlin." He stared off into the distance. Taarlin laid a hand on his shoulder. "Treg, I may have somehow instilled in you the want to destroy those that had wronged me. I'm sorry, but Carla is right. You must go with the next Dropship, when it comes tomorrow." Treg glanced at him, nodding. "The rest of us will be able to go on that ship. You're welcome to come with us, Taarlin. I wouldn't expect you to stay here." Taarlin laughed, then. "I would not be fit on a Terran planet. I would be an outcast. No, I will stay here and fight back at my former allies, and crush these other creatures as well. You shall leave, and I will continue to fight here."
Carla now laid her hand on his shoulder. "Come, Sergeant, you must rest up for tomorrow's march back to the old base." He gave one last fleeting look to the web of light laying claim to the ground. Now the outline of what appeared to be a thick column was visible. Sighing, he turned and followed her back to the barracks.
"There it is!" someone cried, pointing to a speck in the distance. Carla had an arm wrapped around Treg's waist, the most affection she had ever shown towards him. "Why are you suddenly so open? I didn't even know you harbored those feelings until you told me last night," Treg commented. She laughed. "Can't you see? My salvation of this despicable places is visible! I'm finally going to be able to take a clean bath without fear of some Protoss entourage bursting into my room."
The speck slowly started to grow. Soon, details on the outside of the ship were apparent. Light glinted off the metal hull, giving it a shimmering appearance.
Taarlin came to stand next to Treg. "It has been an honor to know you, Treg. Perhaps someday I will leave this planet I call home to explore the universe. And, maybe, fate will bring me to your side again, when we can look back on this and laugh."
"Perhaps my friend, perhaps," Treg said, looking fondly at the fast approaching Dropship. "Hey, what's that?" someone shouted. Treg looked to the voice, following the finger pointed to the ground. A plot of Dirt had been turned up. Then, the mound of dirt trembled, and grew. "NO!" Taarlin yelled. "Get your people out of here, Treg! Now!" That was all the warning he needed. "Carla, get these people to safety. I'll stay and get you when whatever's happening ends." She saluted, then turned to yell orders to the others to gather their things. "What's happening, Taarlin?" Treg said shakily. Taarlin cursed. "Those things I told you of before, that killed my brethren. It started the same way. But, they were much faster before, less than a blink of the eye and they were free. Why are they so slow now?"
The others were starting to leave, heading for the distant canyon leading back to the forest. Taarlin brought his blades forth, switching to a fighting stance. Treg pulled his machine gun free from its place strapped to his back.
By now, four mounds of dirt were being pushed into the unwary sky. The one that had started first was now almost half a foot over the ground level, and rising. Projections could be seen tilling it out of the way of its oppressor. The mound finally burst, and the thing from Taarlin's long silent nightmares emerged. Treg wasted no time. The second he could make a clear target, his gun was blaring. The thing slumped less than halfway out of the confining earthen prison that had contained it. Taarlin stabbed into another hole before the thing could break free. A squeal emanated from it, then the mound of dirt stopped churning. "We've got problems!" Treg yelled over the muzzle blasts. Taarlin turned to look. Ten more mounds were now pushing up. "This will be the last day I see my planet, and the day you mourned your ship's crew's laxness. We shall die with honor, though!" Treg nodded to Taarlin's obvious insight, then turned to gun down another before it could clear itself of the earth.
Taarlin Smashed one of his blades into another hole, crunching into the soft carapace of the creature. Blood and bits of bone clung to both of his blades now, giving the blue light a dark, sickly cast. He turned to the next hole quickly, sending a blade earthward once more.
Treg let out a constant stream of metal, frantically trying to stabilize his gun enough to keep one of the creatures in aim. Burst after burst he let out, fighting a losing battle. Several of the mounds finally burst open, letting out the horrid creatures. They screamed in rage, and flew at Treg.
Letting another blast emanate from his gun, Treg took a step back. He pulled the trigger again… but nothing happened. "This is it, Taarlin," He said, finally coming to his friend's side. "Perhaps not," Taarlin murmured, nodding to the sky. Treg looked up, and saw nothing. But then… there was a ripple in the air, as from waves of heat in the desert. It was gone quickly, he wasn't even sure he had seen it. Until a burst of light and sound came from above him. Twice more it came, and one of the monsters slumped down, blood oozing from it. Four more still surrounded Treg and Taarlin, but after seeing that one go down to means unseen, they seemed less sure. One finally howled and launched itself at the pair. Taarlin slammed his blade into it, trying to hold off the claws of the beast. Treg had reloaded his gun by then, and shot a fresh salvo of lead into the creature's head. It spun sideways, flying off Taarlin's blade.
Several more bursts came from above, shattering another of the monsters. The last two screeched and tried to burrow back into the ground. Taarlin ran to one and cleanly sliced off its hind legs. Without those legs to find purchase, it simply lay immobilized. Treg rattled another two dozen bullets into the second, silencing it for good. Taarlin stabbed the other once, cleanly killing it.
The air above seemed to solidify, turning into the sleek hull of a ship. Treg sighed, and Taarlin stared. "What is that, Treg?" Treg laughed. "That's a Wraith, Taarlin. Be glad they came, at least." A sound boomed through a speaker above on the wraith. "Where are the others?" Treg shouted back, "They're in a canyon over there." The Wraith hovered for several seconds, then lifted higher into the sky and shot off in the direction Treg had pointed. "Treg… do you suppose I will be welcomed wherever we go?" Taarlin asked. Treg shook his head slowly. "I honestly don't know, Taarlin. Let's hope so, for both our sakes, however." Taarlin shrugged and sat down amid the carnage of the clearing.
The survivors came running back, led by Carla and the Wraith. Running, she pounced on Treg. "Thank goodness you're alright. I might have had to do something to those things if you weren't." Pushing her off, Treg sat up, saying, "You couldn't have done anything if I'd died, Carla. Remember that." She pursed her lips but said nothing.
The Dropship approached finally, landing off on one side of the clearing. The survivors all stood, running for it. Treg stood and helped Carla to her feet. "Well, Taarlin, are you ready to break your old bonds once and for all?" Taarlin nodded grimly, and followed Treg to the Dropship.