Chapter 3: The Requiem of Peace
Location: Protoss War Room, Aiur
Four pair of glowing azure blue eyes stared attentively at the recent feed from the lone protoss observer in TORS-8. Almost unerringly, the pairs of eyes dimmed as they watched the Dominion forces torn apart by their foul genetic brothers, the zerg of pure essence. Artanis shook his head dejectedly as he slumped onto the alabaster armchair. Suddenly, Fleet Commander Jondar signalled animatedly for Artanis to view the relay, forgetting all the proprieties and ranks to be observed. Startled by the bold and young protoss's actions, Artanis peered hesitantly into the hologram. He was just in time to catch the entry on Raynor's wraiths, and they proceeded to systematically decimate the remnants of Kerrigan's zerg air forces. A murmur of assent sounded between Tassadar, Artanis and Zeratul as the wraiths mopped up the confused and routed zerg forces. Jondar, typical for his age, whooped with joy and punched his fists on the ivory table. The three older protoss snapped their heads towards Jondar whom gave an abashed look and a very flustered apology.
Zeratul gazed pensively at the youthful and brash Jondar as the others sat down to begin conversing and discussing on the iminent threat the zerg posed. Jondar rose quickly in the ranks to attain his current stature as the overall Fleet Commander of the Combined Protoss Fleets, owing to the highly unusual streak of intelligence and innate strength he possessed. These were the two attributes that, in the protoss beliefs, marked a great leader. Granted the boy was young and budding, he will have to suffice. Zeratul wondered if Jondar would ever crumble in the face of combat and war. Zeratul's reverie was cut short as Tassadar touched him lightly on the shoulders.
"Whatever may be troubling you, Zeratul? The coming of turbulence and death, or is it about someone?" Tassadar spoke quietly, his eyes flickering momentarily to Jondar, before boring into Zeratul's pupils.
"Ah, nothing, most revered one! I was merely thinking about our people... whether they are ready for the bloodshed and onslaughts to come." Zeratul marvelled at how perceptive Tassadar was.
Tassadar's face was one radiating of immense wisdom and knowledge, and his piercing eyes were full of vitality and strength. He was immortalised by the protoss population, who spoke of Tassadar as older than the formation of Aiur and stronger than the entire Judiciary and Temple. He was ancient, but his age had not proved to be a failing, instead it proved to the entire galaxies his strengths. He smiled knowingly, and merely looked at Artanis after Zeratul's careful answer.
"What do you propose, exalted one?" Tassadar spoke.
"Please, my dear brothers, I beg of you never to address me as that and I am to feel more ashamed of Tassadar addressing me so. I want my name back, and I do not wish to live out the rest of my life with an honorary tag." Artanis implored as the others chuckled.
"Is the praetor poking fun at me?" Tassadar smiled faintly, remembering his tag as the 'revered one'.
Zeratul concealed his smile as Artanis was caught off guard. Just when Artanis was about to defend himself, he spoke seriously, "Artanis, this zerg uprising... how do you intend to quell it? How do you intend to stop Kerrigan?"
Artanis noted the urgency in Zeratul's tone, and wearily replied, "At the present moment, our combativeness is at a bare minimal, with little over 30 carriers and 500 plus scouts. Our land forces are even worse, with numbers barely exceeding 20,000. Millions of protoss had quit the army for the arts, and our armies are facing a shortage of manpower. In short, we have the equipment and the machinery, but we don't have the people to work them."
"The terran dominion is no better off than us in their current state. Our intelligence reports have determined that the entire military arm of the dominion had numbers reaching 35,000, with over 22,000 garrisoned sparsely in the many colonies branched out. They have a little over 100 operational battlecruisers and a grand total of 800 or so decent wraiths. However, the terran dominion does have a reserve pool of soldiers numbering ten million who can be mobilised within a year. We simply cannot take on Kerrigan head on, even with an unlikely alliance with the dominion." Jondar smartly carried on, as he flipped through the holographic files.
Tassadar, who had kept his silence for a long time, rested his chins on his fingers. "What about Raynor? What about the renegade space pirates?" Tassadar asked.
"Raynor... he can be trusted, but I'm not too certain about the pirates. It was the direct result of the Brood Wars that led to the formation of different renegade factions, and I think it's highly likely that the pirates may rush in to consolidate their gains when we even do defeat Kerrigan. The central protoss oligarchy and the terran dominion will be too weak to stop that." Jondar objected, as he started pacing up and down in deep thought.
"This can't do and that can't do! When will we get to a decision?!" Zeratul fumed, his sudden outburst shocking both Artanis and Jondar. Tassadar hid yet another smile, as he noted the impetous and fiery temper. This was just the way the young Zeratul would have acted. Tassadar closed his eyes. Zeratul's anger will blow over quickly.
"Calm down, Zeratul. There surely must be a solution. I'll try to make contact with Raynor, while Tassadar liase with the terran dominion for a military truce or alliance. You'll rally the templar and dark templars to infiltrate the planets bordering TORS-8. Jondar, ready the forces we have. If all things fail, we will try to stop Kerrigan. Either she perishes, or we do. Can we agree on that?" Artanis spoke broadly, fixing his gaze temporarily on each of the other three protoss.
"One can only hope you are right, Artanis." Tassadar spoke solemnly, as Artanis shifted his gaze downwards.
Time: One week after decimation of Battle Group Epsilon
Location: Dominion Classified Airspace of TORS-7
The battered and shaken remants of Battle Group Epsilon slowly and painfully hobbled into the boundaries of the relatively safe TORS-7. Commodore Zim paced about on the deck, occasionally stopping irritably to check on the course plotted. He had found dominion send signals on the surface of TORS-7, and he had chanced that it may be another remote mining colony, hopefully with a decent long range transmitter. What was left of the once mighty and glorious Battle Group was just a handful of barely operational wraiths, a battlecruiser with multiple hull breaches and ongoing explosions, and two battered and structurally unsound transports. He checked his movements, as reports streamed in from the scouting wraiths.
"Omega one, what do you see, report!" barked Zim crisply, edging the comms officer aside.
"We've spotted what seems to be a settlement on the planet surface... it seems undefended, the typical model of the dominion outlying sector designs. However, we've also noticed a shiny structure in the distance, and it's enveloped in a protective EMP shield. We can't get a fix on what's that. Over." Crackled back a bass voice.
"Contact the – " Zim was cut off by a call from his ensign onboard.
"Sir, the settlement seems to be hailing us. I'll patch you through."
Zim gritted his teeth, annoyed, as the face of an imperious dominion commander replaced the radar imagery and star charts on the wide screen. Zim's facial expression changed from one of anger and annoyance to one of disbelief and surprise, as he quickly snapped a salute to the commander. What in the hell is a land commander doing so far away from the capital?
Commander Zuckermann waved the salute off, as he commanded in a thick german accent, "May I ask what is a convoy doing out here straying?!"
Zim grew stony, as he answered back through gritted teeth, "I'm sorry, Sir, but this is not a convoy. This is the remainder of Battle Group Epsilon. We have been instructed by Leader Mengsk to investigate the sudden zerg incursion in TORS-8, and it was there where those infernal creatures cut us up. We request immediate docking and maintenance crews."
Zuckermann mulled for a moment, as he secretly typed out messages back to the dominion high command. The relay between Zuckermann and the high command went on for quite some time, as Zim was made to wait impatiently. By now, the ragtag group of aircraft had already been hovering over the settlement for ten minutes. Finally, an ultimatum came from the high command to Zuckermann.
Battle Group Epsilon and its members must be annihilated at all costs. The whereabouts and presence of the classified project must not be known and identified by any other beings, neither zerg nor protoss and not even dominion terrans.
Zuckermann's face paled as he read and comprehended the message. He looked away from Zim for a long time, as he contemplated on his following actions. Zuckermann felt remorse, but years of dominion reconditioning and military training had taught him how to weigh the pros and cons of his orders as compared to his conscience. He wheeled round to tell the inevitable to Zim, as he silently rolled his words through his mind again.
Meanwhile, a total of twenty squadrons of dominion wraiths had decloaked themselves, hovering loosely in the atmospheric perimeter of TORS-7. Multiple ground sites on the surface of TORS-7 had revealed a total of over 400 missile turrets, thirty EMP shock guns and ten ion cannons. Two hidden hangars covering an entire expanse of 800 square kilometres exposed twenty battlecruisers, their brand new hulls glinting in the sunlight. Over a thousand ATS laser batteries trained their sights on the pathetically few aircraft in the air.
"What is this, commander?! Why is the entire planet bristling with armaments and troops?!" shouted an ashen Zim, as he watched the steady procession of marines and goliaths snaking out of the 'settlement'. This could not have been just a backwater mining colony! The defenses here are almost as strong as those found on the orbiting moons revolving Korhal!
"Unfortunately, you and your men had picked the wrong location to call for help... this is a top secret military dominion installation, and the orders are to eliminate all intruders, whether purposeful or accidental. Commodore Zim, it is your honor to have served the dominion, and now, the dominion needs your deaths! You and your men must be terminated, to prevent, ah, leaking of military intelligence." Zuckermann spoke plainly, before nodding to his comm captain on his left.
"What the –" was Zim's last transmission before he was cut off from all dominion networks as his battlecruiser was rocked with gunfire and missile explosions. In a space of four minutes, Battle Group Epsilon ceased to exist, and there were only debris and flaming parts left.
Time: Slightly less than two weeks after the decimation of Battle Group Epsilon
Location: Dominion Palace, Korhal
Arcturus grinned ferally as he rewatched the video feed on the destruction of Battle Group Epsilon. Fools. Of all the different Outer Rim sectors to go, that moron had to pick TORS-7. All the same, he got his just desserts, and I have got the intelligence and information I need. It had been so easy manipulating the media to hype and accredit the destruction of an entire dominion battle group to the marauding space pirates. This had not only reaffirmed the general populace's mindset regarding both Raynor and the pirates, and had secured myself all the political backing I need to launch a full scale assault at Raynor. He slowly flicked open an ornately designed cigarette lighter and watched as the stub of the cigarette burned crimson orange. He will have to do something about the zerg presence in TORS-8 soon.
"Kerrigan... we meet again after all..." whispered Arcturus, leaning back on the velvet cushion sofa.
Author's note: I will like to answer to some of the reviewer's questions. The reasons for Artanis being honoured as the exalted one were the result of the brood wars, and the largely successful cleansing of Aiur. Through his spirited leadership and guidance, the protoss race has survived yet another calamity. Thus, he was lauded with the title. As for the correction of the dominion capital, I will bear that in mind, and will do suitable alterations to my story. Meanwhile, I do need several suggestions for protoss names. Reviewers, do kindly post a few names as you review this latest chapter.
Location: Protoss War Room, Aiur
Four pair of glowing azure blue eyes stared attentively at the recent feed from the lone protoss observer in TORS-8. Almost unerringly, the pairs of eyes dimmed as they watched the Dominion forces torn apart by their foul genetic brothers, the zerg of pure essence. Artanis shook his head dejectedly as he slumped onto the alabaster armchair. Suddenly, Fleet Commander Jondar signalled animatedly for Artanis to view the relay, forgetting all the proprieties and ranks to be observed. Startled by the bold and young protoss's actions, Artanis peered hesitantly into the hologram. He was just in time to catch the entry on Raynor's wraiths, and they proceeded to systematically decimate the remnants of Kerrigan's zerg air forces. A murmur of assent sounded between Tassadar, Artanis and Zeratul as the wraiths mopped up the confused and routed zerg forces. Jondar, typical for his age, whooped with joy and punched his fists on the ivory table. The three older protoss snapped their heads towards Jondar whom gave an abashed look and a very flustered apology.
Zeratul gazed pensively at the youthful and brash Jondar as the others sat down to begin conversing and discussing on the iminent threat the zerg posed. Jondar rose quickly in the ranks to attain his current stature as the overall Fleet Commander of the Combined Protoss Fleets, owing to the highly unusual streak of intelligence and innate strength he possessed. These were the two attributes that, in the protoss beliefs, marked a great leader. Granted the boy was young and budding, he will have to suffice. Zeratul wondered if Jondar would ever crumble in the face of combat and war. Zeratul's reverie was cut short as Tassadar touched him lightly on the shoulders.
"Whatever may be troubling you, Zeratul? The coming of turbulence and death, or is it about someone?" Tassadar spoke quietly, his eyes flickering momentarily to Jondar, before boring into Zeratul's pupils.
"Ah, nothing, most revered one! I was merely thinking about our people... whether they are ready for the bloodshed and onslaughts to come." Zeratul marvelled at how perceptive Tassadar was.
Tassadar's face was one radiating of immense wisdom and knowledge, and his piercing eyes were full of vitality and strength. He was immortalised by the protoss population, who spoke of Tassadar as older than the formation of Aiur and stronger than the entire Judiciary and Temple. He was ancient, but his age had not proved to be a failing, instead it proved to the entire galaxies his strengths. He smiled knowingly, and merely looked at Artanis after Zeratul's careful answer.
"What do you propose, exalted one?" Tassadar spoke.
"Please, my dear brothers, I beg of you never to address me as that and I am to feel more ashamed of Tassadar addressing me so. I want my name back, and I do not wish to live out the rest of my life with an honorary tag." Artanis implored as the others chuckled.
"Is the praetor poking fun at me?" Tassadar smiled faintly, remembering his tag as the 'revered one'.
Zeratul concealed his smile as Artanis was caught off guard. Just when Artanis was about to defend himself, he spoke seriously, "Artanis, this zerg uprising... how do you intend to quell it? How do you intend to stop Kerrigan?"
Artanis noted the urgency in Zeratul's tone, and wearily replied, "At the present moment, our combativeness is at a bare minimal, with little over 30 carriers and 500 plus scouts. Our land forces are even worse, with numbers barely exceeding 20,000. Millions of protoss had quit the army for the arts, and our armies are facing a shortage of manpower. In short, we have the equipment and the machinery, but we don't have the people to work them."
"The terran dominion is no better off than us in their current state. Our intelligence reports have determined that the entire military arm of the dominion had numbers reaching 35,000, with over 22,000 garrisoned sparsely in the many colonies branched out. They have a little over 100 operational battlecruisers and a grand total of 800 or so decent wraiths. However, the terran dominion does have a reserve pool of soldiers numbering ten million who can be mobilised within a year. We simply cannot take on Kerrigan head on, even with an unlikely alliance with the dominion." Jondar smartly carried on, as he flipped through the holographic files.
Tassadar, who had kept his silence for a long time, rested his chins on his fingers. "What about Raynor? What about the renegade space pirates?" Tassadar asked.
"Raynor... he can be trusted, but I'm not too certain about the pirates. It was the direct result of the Brood Wars that led to the formation of different renegade factions, and I think it's highly likely that the pirates may rush in to consolidate their gains when we even do defeat Kerrigan. The central protoss oligarchy and the terran dominion will be too weak to stop that." Jondar objected, as he started pacing up and down in deep thought.
"This can't do and that can't do! When will we get to a decision?!" Zeratul fumed, his sudden outburst shocking both Artanis and Jondar. Tassadar hid yet another smile, as he noted the impetous and fiery temper. This was just the way the young Zeratul would have acted. Tassadar closed his eyes. Zeratul's anger will blow over quickly.
"Calm down, Zeratul. There surely must be a solution. I'll try to make contact with Raynor, while Tassadar liase with the terran dominion for a military truce or alliance. You'll rally the templar and dark templars to infiltrate the planets bordering TORS-8. Jondar, ready the forces we have. If all things fail, we will try to stop Kerrigan. Either she perishes, or we do. Can we agree on that?" Artanis spoke broadly, fixing his gaze temporarily on each of the other three protoss.
"One can only hope you are right, Artanis." Tassadar spoke solemnly, as Artanis shifted his gaze downwards.
Time: One week after decimation of Battle Group Epsilon
Location: Dominion Classified Airspace of TORS-7
The battered and shaken remants of Battle Group Epsilon slowly and painfully hobbled into the boundaries of the relatively safe TORS-7. Commodore Zim paced about on the deck, occasionally stopping irritably to check on the course plotted. He had found dominion send signals on the surface of TORS-7, and he had chanced that it may be another remote mining colony, hopefully with a decent long range transmitter. What was left of the once mighty and glorious Battle Group was just a handful of barely operational wraiths, a battlecruiser with multiple hull breaches and ongoing explosions, and two battered and structurally unsound transports. He checked his movements, as reports streamed in from the scouting wraiths.
"Omega one, what do you see, report!" barked Zim crisply, edging the comms officer aside.
"We've spotted what seems to be a settlement on the planet surface... it seems undefended, the typical model of the dominion outlying sector designs. However, we've also noticed a shiny structure in the distance, and it's enveloped in a protective EMP shield. We can't get a fix on what's that. Over." Crackled back a bass voice.
"Contact the – " Zim was cut off by a call from his ensign onboard.
"Sir, the settlement seems to be hailing us. I'll patch you through."
Zim gritted his teeth, annoyed, as the face of an imperious dominion commander replaced the radar imagery and star charts on the wide screen. Zim's facial expression changed from one of anger and annoyance to one of disbelief and surprise, as he quickly snapped a salute to the commander. What in the hell is a land commander doing so far away from the capital?
Commander Zuckermann waved the salute off, as he commanded in a thick german accent, "May I ask what is a convoy doing out here straying?!"
Zim grew stony, as he answered back through gritted teeth, "I'm sorry, Sir, but this is not a convoy. This is the remainder of Battle Group Epsilon. We have been instructed by Leader Mengsk to investigate the sudden zerg incursion in TORS-8, and it was there where those infernal creatures cut us up. We request immediate docking and maintenance crews."
Zuckermann mulled for a moment, as he secretly typed out messages back to the dominion high command. The relay between Zuckermann and the high command went on for quite some time, as Zim was made to wait impatiently. By now, the ragtag group of aircraft had already been hovering over the settlement for ten minutes. Finally, an ultimatum came from the high command to Zuckermann.
Battle Group Epsilon and its members must be annihilated at all costs. The whereabouts and presence of the classified project must not be known and identified by any other beings, neither zerg nor protoss and not even dominion terrans.
Zuckermann's face paled as he read and comprehended the message. He looked away from Zim for a long time, as he contemplated on his following actions. Zuckermann felt remorse, but years of dominion reconditioning and military training had taught him how to weigh the pros and cons of his orders as compared to his conscience. He wheeled round to tell the inevitable to Zim, as he silently rolled his words through his mind again.
Meanwhile, a total of twenty squadrons of dominion wraiths had decloaked themselves, hovering loosely in the atmospheric perimeter of TORS-7. Multiple ground sites on the surface of TORS-7 had revealed a total of over 400 missile turrets, thirty EMP shock guns and ten ion cannons. Two hidden hangars covering an entire expanse of 800 square kilometres exposed twenty battlecruisers, their brand new hulls glinting in the sunlight. Over a thousand ATS laser batteries trained their sights on the pathetically few aircraft in the air.
"What is this, commander?! Why is the entire planet bristling with armaments and troops?!" shouted an ashen Zim, as he watched the steady procession of marines and goliaths snaking out of the 'settlement'. This could not have been just a backwater mining colony! The defenses here are almost as strong as those found on the orbiting moons revolving Korhal!
"Unfortunately, you and your men had picked the wrong location to call for help... this is a top secret military dominion installation, and the orders are to eliminate all intruders, whether purposeful or accidental. Commodore Zim, it is your honor to have served the dominion, and now, the dominion needs your deaths! You and your men must be terminated, to prevent, ah, leaking of military intelligence." Zuckermann spoke plainly, before nodding to his comm captain on his left.
"What the –" was Zim's last transmission before he was cut off from all dominion networks as his battlecruiser was rocked with gunfire and missile explosions. In a space of four minutes, Battle Group Epsilon ceased to exist, and there were only debris and flaming parts left.
Time: Slightly less than two weeks after the decimation of Battle Group Epsilon
Location: Dominion Palace, Korhal
Arcturus grinned ferally as he rewatched the video feed on the destruction of Battle Group Epsilon. Fools. Of all the different Outer Rim sectors to go, that moron had to pick TORS-7. All the same, he got his just desserts, and I have got the intelligence and information I need. It had been so easy manipulating the media to hype and accredit the destruction of an entire dominion battle group to the marauding space pirates. This had not only reaffirmed the general populace's mindset regarding both Raynor and the pirates, and had secured myself all the political backing I need to launch a full scale assault at Raynor. He slowly flicked open an ornately designed cigarette lighter and watched as the stub of the cigarette burned crimson orange. He will have to do something about the zerg presence in TORS-8 soon.
"Kerrigan... we meet again after all..." whispered Arcturus, leaning back on the velvet cushion sofa.
Author's note: I will like to answer to some of the reviewer's questions. The reasons for Artanis being honoured as the exalted one were the result of the brood wars, and the largely successful cleansing of Aiur. Through his spirited leadership and guidance, the protoss race has survived yet another calamity. Thus, he was lauded with the title. As for the correction of the dominion capital, I will bear that in mind, and will do suitable alterations to my story. Meanwhile, I do need several suggestions for protoss names. Reviewers, do kindly post a few names as you review this latest chapter.