Chapter Five: The Revenge

The men sat in the dining hall, munching on the grub Greck had placed before them. Renaud sat by the window and lit a cigarette. He took a quick puff while he waved the match in the air to put the flaming head out. He dropped the match on the floor as a small stream of smoke rose from the ash. Greck was wiping his hands with a towel and scowled when he saw this.

"I clean up this God damned kitchen, Renaud. You better pick that up!" Renaud looked at Greck and then out the window again. Greck mumbled and cursed some more before going back into the galley.

Grady wiped his face and grinned in malevolence. He elbowed Ambrose, who sat next to him, and pointed at Renaud.

"You see, Ambrose? This is why I tell you to stop smoking! If you keep it up, you'll start looking like Renaud here!" Grady then scooped up a pile of mashed potatoes and stuffed it in his mouth. Ambrose chuckled and took a swig of beer as the men around him also gave a light snigger.

Grady then found a piece of aluminum foil, and he rolled it into a ball and chucked it at Renaud. It hit him square in the back of the head. Renaud only sighed and closed his eyes, making sure he kept his hand away from his sidearm.

Renaud left the room, unable to deal with Grady. On his way out, he bumped into Blake. Blake smiled and patted Renaud on the back. Renaud reluctantly smiled back and flicked his cigarette. He looked back into the dining hall only to find Grady making ridiculous faces at him. Blake looked in, too, and saw the same thing. He gave a confused laugh and turned his attention back towards Renaud.

"What is it with you two? Huh? I mean, every second one of you is torturing the other in some obscure way. What is it, Renaud?"

Renaud took a puff of the cigarette one last time and flipped it to the ground where he crushed it with his boot. He looked at Blake and leaned against the wall of the entrance.

"I met him at the academy in Braxis years ago. We were in the same class, I was at the top, and he was at the bottom. Grady's a stupid son of a bitch, and whenever he saw my test scores, gun accuracy scores, all that shit, he started to mock me. I punched him a couple of times. He's got a good hook himself, but that's beside the point. He's just upset about how stupid he is." Renaud took yet another breath of the toxic air.

A strange sound came ricocheting down the hallway. It was Stratham, followed by Newell. Renaud turned to look as they came to a screeching halt.

"He's out! He's gone, man!" said Stratham breathlessly. Blake and Renaud exchanged confused glances. "Don't you hear me! Blake, listen! He's gone!" screeched Stratham as another series of pants followed. "Ask Newell! He saw it!"

"And was nearly killed by it!" he shot back.

Blake stepped forward and placed his hands on their shoulders trying to calm them down. Stratham retracted and leaned against the wall as Newell shook his head. Renaud dropped his cigarette and tapped it with his foot.

"You're both going to tell me that Phuru-blah or whatever his name is escaped his cell?" asked Blake, calmly.

Stratham shook his head furiously as did Newell. Stratham pointed down the hallway.

"It was the other one! That other beast escaped! He's probably looking for those blade things that they always have!" Blake nodded and turned to look into the dining hall. He focused back to his panicking comrades and smiled.

Renaud peered down the hallway but saw nothing. He motioned to Stratham and Newell to follow. They proceeded down the darkened corridor as Blake watched for a moment. Blake went into the dining hall and tapped Ames on the shoulder. There was a brief conversation before Ames got up and followed Blake out into the hallway. Renaud had disappeared into a room for a moment; he had gone into the armory.

Renaud emerged from the center with a machine gun in hand. He acknowledged Blake and the three went into the darkness. Ames shook his head.

"They really shouldn't kill him," he said. Blake rolled his eyes at the scientist and went back into the dining hall. He calmly announced that everyone needed to head for the second compound bunker right away. Greck, who was in the kitchen carrying a large amount of beef, cursed loudly after hearing this. There was still more food coming, and it would all be burnt if he left it.

Blake snapped at the cook. Greck reluctantly agreed and turned around with his beef, heading back into the freezer. But the moment he turned around, he bumped into a rather large figure, maybe two feet taller than he. He slowly looked up at the monster, dropping the meat and cautiously backing up.

In the dining hall, the men had all gotten up, asking a thousand questions at once. Blake made up an excuse that a large storm was heading their way. Greck ran into the dining hall, screaming and yelling. The scientists all looked at each other in confusion until the zealot stepped into their room, eyeing all of them.

In a blind panic, the men sprinted furiously, trying to get away from him as fast as possible. Blake whipped out his pistol and took several shots at the monster. Durhkhan looked at him after taking a shot in the chest. The clip was emptied, and Blake tried to reload as fast as he could. Durhkhan stepped forward, winding up his hand and thrusting it into the human's chest, heaving him against the wall.

Blake flew back, out the doorway of the dining hall and into the corridor. Durhkhan stomped into the corridor, ready to finish the pathetic being. But he heard running. He heard running from the left, down the hallway. Three figures started to appear, and they looked as if they were carrying automatic weapons.

Durhkhan ducked back into the dining hall. Renaud, Stratham, and Newell appeared, aiding Blake and then going after the Protoss.

Renaud entered first, looking this way and that, but found nothing. Stratham and Newell ran into the kitchen, checked the freezer, and then the food galley. He was gone. The strange being they knew as Durhkhan had disappeared.

"All right, Stratham, what the hell happened?" asked Renaud, finally.

"I was just sitting there, in that room. I was talking to him about the stuff you said to us, Renaud. You know, all those weather abnormalities? Then, out of nowhere, he says 'I did it.'"

There was a pause. Stratham rested against the freezer door as the others stood impatiently.

"And then what?"

"Then he blasted through that fucking wall, that's what!" he screeched. Renaud rubbed his mouth and looked around. The men were probably scattered all over complex, and it would take a long while to get them all back together.

"First thing first," started Renaud. "We have to get everyone in one place and lock it up until we catch this freak. See if we can't get them in the security bunker." Blake nodded in agreement. The four rushed into the corridor frantically searching for their companions who were lost in the dark.

----

The talking was outrageous; even the shouting. As Blake did a second head count in the security bunker, he reached thirty-four. It had been nearly two hours since Durhkhan had escaped, but apparently he had not hurt anyone. Blake stood up in front of the crowd and tried to get them to hush. It was difficult; the men all had questions, even though they were centered on one root, the inquiries came out in different ways.

Blake looked around the room, lifted his hands as he had before, but found it gave no response. The men were too panicked. Renaud, being frustrated, pushed Blake aside and yelled in a loud voice for the men to hush. Though it was not an immediate affect, the men who did respect Renaud were quiet within seconds. The others, then, followed. Renaud licked his lips.

"Now, I know you're all confused, but you're all going to have to keep quiet and accept what I say for now. It may sound strange, it may seem odd, but that doesn't matter now. What does matter is that we keep everyone safe and out of Durhkhan's way." Small waves of chatter spouted, so Renaud continued. "It's been reported that Durhkhan forced his way through that shield. We don't know how. And honestly, it doesn't make a difference. The point is the wall is out and both are on the loose. I'm guessing that it's safe to assume that Phaira-kur is of no danger to us? Is that correct, Dr. Ames?"

Ames shrugged as Wald nodded up and down. Renaud turned from the crowd a moment and looked at Blake.

"And MacFerran and Garrett are where?"

"Both are in the radio room trying to contact help. They're the only ones we really need to worry about now. Well, besides our two fugitives." However, Blake's comment didn't satisfy Renaud. The lieutenant looked at the crowd and started to count heads again. He then counted Blake and himself, then MacFerran and Garrett… but that only reached thirty-six.

Renaud said to Blake, "Were there not thirty-seven men stationed here?" Blake nodded, but he was confused. Perhaps Renaud had counted wrong? "No," said Renaud, "There are only thirty-six! Then who are we missing?" Renaud's eyes scanned over the crowd as the men began to whisper. No one had heard the duo's small conversation. Maybe something was wrong. It then became clear to Renaud. "Jarvis!"

----

The lonely little janitor scrubbed the floor of a hallway in the third building. He had heard a few gunshots, but that was all. He figured it was either a drunken brawl or an accident. If it was a brawl, it was certainly between Grady and Renaud. The floors were wet as the chubby man listened to the familiar sound of a squeaky mop. He stopped, soaked it in water, squeezed it, and hit the floor again. He reached the end of the hallway and stopped, looking out a small window.

The winds were not as loud as before. Not deafening, anyways. Jarvis put one hand on his hip as the other held the mop straight like a soldier. He sighed at the darkened picture of a plain of snow. Too bad it was always so cold outside. He'd love to get out and enjoy the view first-hand. But, his purpose was to mop the floors, so he began to turn away and drop the stick in the bucket again.

He pulled it alongside him to another hallway. The wheels on the yellow contraption squeaked and skidded across the dirt-ridden floor. Jarvis was amazed at the men in this complex; there was no dirt to be found anywhere on Braxis, yet so much of it managed to accumulate on his floor.

Jarvis pulled the mop out again and let it splash on the ground. He started at the end of yet another hallway that contained a window very similar to the one he stood at before. But this window was better; through this one could he see the stars. Dazzling, beautiful; it made Jarvis wonder to how he became a janitor. He watched as the stars beamed, but then one looked as if it had moved. Jarvis blinked heavily, and then looked again. The dancing had stopped. No matter, he figured. He had heard that staring at something bright against a dark background can play tricks with your eyes.

But then again, he saw another star move, but this time more violently. It ripped across the sky, and then back again. Jarvis stared at this with the most curiosity… and then came to his senses. Was it not the several freighters in the sky? Yes, some of the outposts on the skirts of Braxis were being re-stocked tonight. Those freighters were something else with their lights. There were two, maybe even three of them.

Jarvis cleaned the rest of the floor, going down the antechamber and then stopping at an intersection. He took a deep breath and got ready to go retrieve his yellow-wheeled pale when he heard something. It was squeaking. Someone was walking on his fresh floor.

"Hey, get off the damned floor, I just mopped it!" Jarvis looked in a few office rooms, but found them to be empty. He frowned angrily, and then went back to where he had left his pale. It was gone! Someone had taken it! "All right, buddy, what the hell are you doing, huh? Don't make me report you to Blake!"

A door creaked shut. Jarvis chuckled softly and shook his head. He marched down the hallway and stood outside the door that had just closed.

"Look, pal, give me the pale and I won't have to kill you." There was no response. Jarvis listened as the wind outside began to pick up. He turned around and saw the window at the end of the hallway. The stars were circling around in the sky! Could it be the freighters? He knew that there could be several, but would there be that many?

Jarvis slowly started walking towards the window when the door he once stood at rushed open. He spun around and saw his yellow pale floating in the office with a strange blue light massaging around it. He slowly crept towards the office, his feet latched to the floor. He shuffled like an old man, and he gripped the mop with both hands.

He stood at the doorway, looking in. The pale lifted higher, higher… Jarvis's jaw trembled in fright. The pale then thrust towards Jarvis and smashed him in the face. He fell back, hitting the floor. When he started to get up, he saw the blue energy engulfing more objects within the office. The chairs, the desk, the file cabinet, and they were all rising. He crawled away, then turning, and on all fours began shuffling down the hall.

The objects crashed through the doorway, punching holes through the wall as they smacked into Jarvis. He covered his head as he tried to protect himself.

Then it was quiet. The objects had stopped attacking him. Jarvis got up and looked as a figure appeared in the doorway of the office. It was a towering abomination; thin yet sinful. Still looking at it, Jarvis started running in the other direction when he suddenly felt an excruciating amount of pain swell in his stomach. His head snapped to his front, and a large being wearing yellow armor was in front of him. A sharp and precise blue energy blade protruded his gut, and Jarvis looked up as the Protoss stared at him with no expression.

Blood spewed from Jarvis's mouth as Durhkhan turned around and heaved him through the window. It shattered as Jarvis fell to the icy cold ground. As the stars danced above, the custodian was swallowed in snow as the wind whipped around him.