STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT
By
Gregory P. Wong
Chapter 18: Steel, Soul, And Spirit
Traenid/Esralath looked over the world of Sawea. It was recovering satisfactorily from the damage inflicted by the Thres'nalop, the burnt stretches of land turning green once more. One week ago the fleet had arrived over Sawea.
The Terrans had unpacked and had generally gotten along with the Protoss colonists after the ships had landed a two weeks ago. Protoss-Terran relations were improving each day, and the determination of the colonists pulled them past any past prejudices.
Now, in a town tentatively christened "New Dream", gray, utilitarian Terran buildings stood side by side with golden, jewel-encrusted Protoss ones. Crops of Terran and Protoss foodstuffs were just beginning to sprout. Abundant bengalaas meat nourished Protoss and Terran alike
He/she saw a Dark Templar and a human chatting, though the human stayed away farther than was polite. He/she sighed. Small things like that would have to be overcome in the future. It was no wonder though, since in the first months of contact Protoss had sterilized Terran planets to contain the Zerg infestation. Fear had to be defeated, so the colony as a whole could prosper.
Traenid/Esralath floated off the rubble pile were he/she had been sitting, and went to the building were he/she was living currently. He/she was just about to open the entranceway, when a Protoss zealot nearly barreled into him/her.
"Executor! The Cyberlisk Straas requests you and Khalai Rethoj immediately!
"According to Straas, Szcraa is giving birth!"
She had wondered why her stomach was not feeling good. She just woke up sick in the morning, and had wobbled when she got out of bed. Straas had to help her walk out of their room.
"Are you okay?" asked her... husband... with concern. Husband.
"I'm not sure. My—" She doubled up as her stomach cramped and expelled a good part of last night's dinner. She sank to her knees, her body seeming too heavy for her legs to support.
"You're not okay. I'll get you to Rethoj," her husband picked her up and dashed off to Rethoj's workshop. The Khalai artisan was also an experienced healer.
She vomited on him, but her spouse did not seem to notice the nasty stuff sliding down his arms.
"Rethoj!" called out Straas, urgency and fear coloring his voice. "There's something wrong with Szcraa!"
"What is it?" inquired the old Khalai as Straas barreled through the opened door.
"I don't know. She just got sick. Do you know what's wrong?"
Szcraa had never heard this sense of urgency in her mate's voice ever. Another massive cramp hit her abdomen, and she reflexively doubled up. She grunted in pain, keeping herself from screaming from the severity.
"By Adun and all the gods above. She is going into labor!"
Rethoj got unto a communicator, and said something into it. The he turned back to Straas. Szcraa felt very light-headed. Labor. Ha. Our child can finally meet the world.
"Put her onto the table quickly!" directed Rethoj urgently. Straas complied and placed her on a metallic worktable. Rethoj tucked blankets under her, probably to keep her comfortable. She weakly looked at Straas. He and Rethoj were talking to each other rapidly. Then she closed her eyes and blocked out the sound.
"What do you mean 'it won't work'?" he virtually screamed out.
"I have no idea how to perform this. A group of Terran doctors and medics are on the way here to help, as well as some Khalai physicians. Combined, they could probably figure out how to deliver and sustain the child, but I don't know if it's physically possible."
"What do you mean? It looks perfectly possible." He was scared. Scared for his wife, scared for his unborn child.
"No. Look at Szcraa's lower body. It is encased in metal. Very strong metal, if I remember correctly. If there is no passageway to the outside, how can the child get out? The opening you have for you two to mate is big enough for your needs, but it cannot fit a newborn through it!"
He just stared. No! It cannot end like this! He despaired.
Then he had an idea.
"If she can somehow shut off her auto-repair systems, and if I cut open her lower body, would that suffice?"
"Perhaps. But she might bleed to death."
"Then how... Wait! I can shut down her repair systems, then I can help her through it! We can attempt to meld, and..."
"It will not work! Protoss have spent centuries attempting to do just that! And we have had no major breakthroughs!"
"By God," he growled, "it will work. It has to!"
The Khalai looked resigned. "We will try to do that. But there can be no guarantees that they will both survive."
That was all he needed. With a nod, he accessed Szcraa's system commands, and toggled the scripts that enabled her repair systems. After shutting them down, he moved to where Szcraa lay on her back. He made a little scratch with his claw on her leg. It did not begin to repair.
He nodded to Rethoj.
"By Adun, I hope this works," whispered the Khalai.
The four doctors, three medics, and six Kahalis crowded around the table, watching him as he extended his right scythe. Carefully, he began to slice into Szcraa's metal lower body. After fifteen minutes of straining work, he had peeled back the metal and exposed flesh. The metal made a slight ripping sound as it tore away from her flesh. A gush of rich red blood began to flow out of her body.
Quickly, he left her lower body and went to where her head lay. Szcraa had a look of extreme agony on her face, and her face twitched but she was amazingly quiet.
He reached down and gently took her head in his hands. He focused, and tried to meld his mind with hers. He concentrated as hard as he ever had, even harder then when he had battled Ulreathan.
He nearly growled in frustration. He was getting nowhere.
Then it happened. He entered a mind-meld with Szcraa.
Together, they concentrated, and ordered the capillaries and arteries in the opened region to slow the flow of blood. He had little time; the undernourished tissue would begin to die in only an hour.
Together, they concentrated to help push the child out. As the child left Szcraa's birth canal, he knew something was not right. He detected not one, but two others still inside his wife. Straas concentrated again, and helped Szcraa through it, giving her strength to draw on. As he felt Szcraa's muscles clench, and the last child exit her body, he reactivated her auto-repair systems, and slumped to the floor.
Szcraa was not quite sure what had happened. She felt not one, but three beings leave her body. She heard the murmur of the people gathered around her grow when the last child exited, but she could not understand. Three squalling cries broke out, almost simultaneously. She slipped into unconsciousness, escaping the lingering pain.
Straas awoke, and saw Szcraa lying peacefully on the table, wrapped in various fabrics. Her lower body was in the process of healing, and the blood that had spurted out was still wet. His wife was breathing steadily and slowly.
He noticed that one of the Terran doctors was holding a small bundle, a Protoss physician another, and Executor Traenid/Esralath the third. Except for he, his wife, the Executor, andthe two physicians, the hold was empty.
"Are they okay? All of them?" he asked."
"Yes. But I think you had better look at them for yourself..." went the Terran doctor, his face a mixture of shock, amazement, fear, and wonder.
He went to the Terran holding the bundle, and took it gently from him.
"Support his head," instructed the doctor.
Ah! A son. He looked into barely opened blue eyes. Green eyes... Terran green eyes...
The son he was holding looked like... a Terran infant!
It had the same shaped body as one would expect from a newborn, but he noticed subtle differences. The skin was slightly off the normal Terran shade, a little too blue, and the little tufts of hair growing out of his head seemed strange, too thick and pointy. He noticed something with the wrists too. Some type of bony object seemed to stick out of the skin, flat against the child's wrist. The he realized that it must be a scythe.
The newborn squirmed a bit, made a gurgling noise, and then fell asleep. Without a sound, he handed his son back to one of the Terran doctors.
Numbly, he walked over to the Protoss physician. The physician nodded, and gave the bundle to him. He unwrapped the infant.
This one looked like a Protoss, and it was also a boy. Like his first son, he detected small discrepancies. The skin seemed a little too reddish brown, different from the usual Protoss coloration. The elongated head seemed normal, until he saw that it was slightly flattened at the back. The start of brown Protoss tresses were beginning to grow. The body of the infant seemed thicker than usual, but he had never seen a Protoss infant before, so he was not sure of the norm. He also noticed that the infant had strange shaped feet. They were not the shape of the knobby Protoss limbs, but of a shape similar to his own foot. Again, like his first son, the Protoss child had small, bony, retracted scythes on his wrists. While he had been holding him, his son had not moved.
"That is normal. Protoss newborns are very sedate at birth," explained the Protoss after taking back the newborn. Then the Protoss flinched. This was anything but normal.
He just nodded to the physician, unable to summon words.
Straas strode over to the Executor. He gave the Archon a questioning look.
"It would be better if you saw yourself, without me saying anything. You might be surprised, however," said Traenid/Esralath/
Taking the last bundle from the Gray Archon, he started. Staring out from the blankets was the face and head of a...
He gasped.
...Fully organic Cyberlisk.
With a feeling of surprise he unwrapped his... daughter.
She looked like a completely organic Cyberlisk, complete with two double-jointed legs, a glossy, spiny crest, a tail, and a gold hued carapace. Blue streaked her flank. Her belly was colored off-white, and he could plainly see the chest joints that housed the needle spines, whether or not they were Magna Needles. Of course, like his two sons, his daughter had a scythe laid flat on her wrist. The newborn opened her eyes slightly.
Her eyes were a deep blue, with a lighter blue iris. Almost Terran shaped, and with a similar structure of a Terran eyeball. He wanted to wake up Szcraa and show her their daughter, but he stopped himself. The other two are my children too. Just because they look like a Protoss or Terran should not mean I should love them less.
Carefully, he balanced his daughter on his arms, and then collected the other two from the Terran and the Protoss. Moving slowly, he walked to where Szcraa lay. Using his tail, he prodded her awake. She opened her eyes, moaned, and attempted to sit up. He gently kept her from doing so.
"We have triplets, love," he said softly. "Two sons and one daughter."
Szcraa's eyes shot open, and she tilted her head to see the bundles he was carrying. Smiling, he let Szcraa hold their daughter.
"Do they all look like her?" asked Szcraa, cradling their daughter.
"No."
"What?"
"This might take some time to explain... not mention getting used to."
"I guess Govalich wasn't very sure what would happen when she did some gene-mixing, no?" Szcraa said to her husband, holding the Protoss-son now.
"Obviously," he answered, cradling the other two. "They're beautiful."
"Yes they are. They're our children. I could care less how they looked, be they Protoss, Zerg, or Terran."
They were in Terran built room, furnished by grateful Terran and Protoss families. It was one of three inside a compact house. The Protoss and Terrans had given implements for caring for children, and some humans and Protoss and volunteered to teach her and Straas about child rearing. For their daughter, they trusted their own instincts to know how to raise her.
"We have to give them names." Straas said suddenly, looking up.
" I know. But what? What type of names? Terran names? Protoss names? Zerg... names?"
"I don't know. It'll come to us in time."
"I guess so... Straas, can you hold her for an hour?" She held out their daughter to him. "I want to sleep." She still felt tired. Going through a near-death experience and a birth at the same time could drain anyone.
"Of course. Rest up."
"Thank you, Straas," she gave him a kiss, then went into the bedroom. She lied down and fell asleep.
"What..." She rubbed her head.
Somehow, she was on a beach on Sawea. It was nearing dusk, with the orange sun falling down over the horizon. Oily waves lapped at the shore.
She heard crunching behind her. She whirled around, and saw Straas walking down to her. She stood in place, not able to move. Her husband stopped a couple meters away from her. She looked in puzzlement.
Straas' form shifted. Then seemed to melt.
She watched in horror as Straas transformed into Ulreathan.
"Amusing that I encounter you here, abomination. What has your mate been up to... Now your husband? You mock everything that you try to imitate. Your very life is a mockery."
She felt hot rage rise within her.
"And yours is not?" she replied. "You corrupt yourself for a perverse power, and I am the abomination?"
Then she caught herself.
"Why am I arguing with you? You're dead, incinerated. Nothing but your legacy of death lives on."
Ulreathan's formerly Protoss eyes curled up into a mocking sneer. "That's what you think, Szcraa. Only my physical body has been eliminated. My spirit lives on. And do not think I will stay in this state permanently. I will fashion a new body, and I will come back for you, your consort abomination, and all non-Thres'nalop life in this universe."
Impossibly, The Blademaster's sneer grew more cruel.
"And even your children are not safe. I will have great pleasure in eviscerating them."
With a snarl of rage, Szcraa leaped at Ulreathan, intent on ripping his foul head off. Just as her claws connected with his head, the Blademaster dissolved into black smoke. A horrible cackle hung on the wind.
She sunk to her knees in the sand and cried in rage and fear.
Straas shook his wife awake. He had left the children in their separate cradles.
"Szcraa! Wake up! Szcraa!"
With a cry, she woke up. Her eyes had a look of horror in them, and her arms shook as she held his arms.
"Szcraa! What's wrong. What did you see?" He knew that Szcraa's dreams had great significance to them.
"Ulreathan!"
Traenid/Esralath looked seriously at the two Cyberlisks. They were in his/her housing structure, in one of the larger rooms.
The couple had left their children in care of Terran and Protoss babysitters, but they had brought their daughter with them. They had still not come up with names yet, but it would come to them.
Traenid/Esralath got his/her mind back on track. The appearance of Ulreathan in Szcraa's dream had just created a problem. And the former Judicator's plans for the future could cause great danger for the universe if they could be carried out.
"What can we do? I have to take the fleet back to Shakuras." He/she told the two.
"No, you don't. If the Council found out what had happened..." trailed off Szcraa.
"What can I do? I must report back to the Council."
"This no longer deals with just the Protoss, or the Terran, of the Zerg. This deal with all life in the universe. We have to take immediate action. Ulreathan is somewhere now, growing stronger and getting ready to make another assault on the universe. And I don't think that the Thres'nalop fleet that we defeated was the only one. There are more out there. I know it. And neither the Protoss, nor the Terran, are ready to know of the horror of the Thres'nalop," said Straas.
"I know. But... I cannot. I fully believe in what you have told me, but this colony, this first ever Protoss-Terran colony, is still weak. I cannot leave them. And if I cannot lead..." He/she cut off as a thought occurred to him/her.
"Will the Protoss and Terran respect it?"
"I do not know. Will they accept it?"
"Straas. Will you take my place as Executor of the fleet?"
Straas' mouth dropped open. It looked comical, with his jaw hanging down, and his mandibles splayed out.
"What? Are you serious?"
"Yes."
Szcraa touched her husband's arm. He looked his wife in her eyes. They looked as if they were speaking to each other via commlink.
"No, I can't! It would not be right," grunted out Straas, switching back to speaking.
"Our existence, and our children's existence, is not 'right,' to Ulreathan. If there is no one to stop him, how can anyone be safe?"
"Why not Deneras? He was your helmsman on the Phantasm."
"Deneras has great respect for you Straas. While I respect him greatly, he does not have the abilities and intelligence you do. And I know he would follow you if you accept. You saved the entire fleet, not to mention an entire planet, from certain destruction. I do not know of anyone who is not grateful toward you."
"But... but... I'm Zerg. I've—" He got cut off as Szcraa struck him in the face with a fist. Straas' eyes flew open in shock, as Szcraa's eyes narrowed in anger.
"Don't you dare say that again!" she snapped. "We've been through this before. You are not a Zerg. Genetically yes; so am I. But you are not a Zerg. You are a heroic, powerful, loving person." Szcraa's eyes softened. "But you are passing up a great opportunity, Straas. Ulreathan has to be stopped. At all costs."
Straas' eyes seemed to cloud with a... pain. Then they cleared.
"Executor. I accept. I will take your place as Executor."