Chapter Eight: Focus in Deep Space

In the radio room, the same message ran through MacFerran's earphones. The Former Colonial Militia was headed this way, and whether they were friend or foe was unknown. MacFerran had done his best to try and warn Blake that something was moving towards their little isolation booth, but the gargantuan idiot had done nothing. And not only was a force of mysterious men floating in the direction of Braxis, another strange monster lay sleeping in the frozen knolls of Braxis.

That humming; that unstopping, malignant humming!

It was back, and although MacFerran had tried to record it, the message was unplayable. It could have been a fault in the machine, or it could be a deeper threat. But the more he listened to the humming, the more he heard the warning being given.

A Protossian base was broadcasting a wave in search of something, and MacFerran figured that it was Durhkhan and Phaira-kur. The warning part, however, was still unclear. The words "or else" echoed in the chambers of his mind, but the rest of the message was lost to mumbling.

So he gave up. MacFerran released the earphones from his head and tossed the atop the radio equipment. Straatman, who was standing at the door, turned around and looked at the radio operator. He then moved over and looked at the equipment.

"Not broken again, is it?" asked Straatman. MacFerran shook his head and then looked up at the soldier. With one hand he took the headphones and held them to Straatman, who reluctantly took them and placed them on his head. "What am I listening for?"

"This," MacFerran said as he twisted a few dials.

The monotonous humming started, along with the droning voice. The vibration of the thoughts that the Protoss warrior sent pulsed through Straatman's body. He finally gave a perplexed look and removed the headphones.

"It's a Protoss being, isn't it?" MacFerran nodded. "That's odd. They say we can't hurt Phaira-kur or Durhkhan or else they'll destroy us?" he asked MacFerran. The radio operator sat up in his seat.

"Is that what the voice was saying? They're going to destroy us if Durhkhan or Phaira-kur is harmed! Christ, I hope Renaud and the rest of his gang aren't out hunting them down!" Straatman motioned his hands to calm MacFerran down.

"No, no. They're just looking for them. I'm pretty sure Renaud is using tranquilizers anyway. Don't worry, MacFerran; nothing bad is going to happen to those two."

----

As Connant realized the absolute madness of the situation, it was still soaking into Ames and Wald.

Twenty-eight celestial patterns in one night! That's insane! thought Connant. He paced around the lab before going to one of the astronomy desks and pulling out a space chart. In it were thousands of planets, stars, and black holes, all in their proper place. Connant took a white pencil and circled Braxis, and then he circled Aiur. He looked back and forth at the printouts that he had just received from his machine and the map in front of him. On the map, he wrote the current locations of the stars according to the latest printout. After a few brief moments, he stared in awe.

He wasn't moving. He was hardly even breathing. The thoughts racing in and out of his mind couldn't be recorded, nor could they be slowed down. Ames walked over to the young astronomer and patted him on the back.

"Are you okay, Connant? This whole space deal has really seemed to get to you."

Connant pulled out every other map he had and placed them on the floor, spreading them out and connecting them appropriately. He kept staring at the chart, making sure everything he saw was correct. And when he finally determined that what he saw was true, and that there could be given no argument, he turned to Ames with a half-smile across his face.

"I think I've found something, Ames," Connant uttered. "Look at this chart. Do you see Aiur? It's right there. Right in the center of this map. Now, this obviously isn't all of the stars on this single map, but look at the ones around it." Connant had spread out all of his maps, which was nine. "It's right in the middle. At the core of space, Ames."

Wald scoffed and looked at Connant as if he was mad, but Ames was catching on. The map with Aiur was in the middle of the nine maps, which went three across and three down. And now, Aiur had moved to the very center of the entire vicinity of space that man had explored.

"Aiur is the axis?" Ames asked. Connant nodded. A grin exploded onto both of their faces. "And this is for sure? This is real, isn't it?"

"I can't see anything arguing against it. Aiur is most definitely the focal point of space. And you know why, don't you?"

"The energy?"

"Yes. Aiur has the greatest amount of psionic energy in the universe. And look around it! Braxis is nearby! And so are the other planets that the Protoss inhabit! It's a chain, you see? And next are the human-infested planets. Even Earth is drifting slowly towards Aiur, and planets such as Char are moving away! It's this psionic energy that drives everything! The planets with the highest amount are key; they lie right near Aiur; and the planets with little are out skirted!"

Ames continued to look at the maps.

"But, sadly," he started, "our theory proves false. If psionic energy drives everything, why isn't their any in Zerg creatures? They have shown no signs of using it. Neither have normal humans. Only ghosts are able to do such things as cloaking."

But Connant was prepared for that. He was still smiling when he shook his head at Ames's contradiction.

"Have you ever attempted to measure the psionic levels of a Zerg monster?" he asked. Ames rolled his eyes around before shaking his head. "And in humans, you've never tested a regular human?" Once again, Ames shook his head no. "Test me. Right here. Measure my psionic abilities."

Wald scoffed again before looking through the computer and finding the program that would measure psionic abilities. He found it and had Connant stand in front of a small device attached to the mainframe. In a few seconds, a result popped up on the screen. Wald nearly laughed.

"Out of a one hundred percent psionic potential, you have .0000983 percent potential. It's practically non-existent."

"But tell me, Wald; do I still have some potential?" asked Connant, excited.

"Well, yes, but it's so low you couldn't do anything with it."

That wasn't the point, Connant was finding that there was some trace of psionic energy in everything, be it living or unanimated. He then had Wald test the white pencil, with which Wald felt like an idiot for testing the psionic abilities of something that had no intelligence. Yet the test yielded a .000000000000000000000721 percent psionic ability. Wald scoffed.

That was that. Connant was convinced. His theory could not be totally proven right now, but it was a sure-fire thing that all objects had some trace of psionic power, and that it was this power that had created the universe, and that it was this power that was seeking the center of the universe; yet it was better known as the heart of space.

----

Renaud, de Roos, Van Camp, Snider, and Grady reached the bunker just as Newell and Stratham did. Thurston was not with them.

There was no time for questions. Renaud went into the bunker and moved immediately to Blake, even though the scientists were in an uproar of questions for the leader. But now Blake was talking to MacFerran, who was telling him about the message from the Protoss. Once MacFerran saw Renaud, he nearly pounced on him.

"Did you shoot them? Huh? Are they alive or not!" exclaimed MacFerran.

Looking at Blake, Renaud said, "We got Durhkhan, his body is upstairs." MacFerran slammed his fist into the wall and spun Renaud around.

"You just killed all of us! The Protoss are going to eliminate anyone who hurts those two! I just heard it on the radio!"

"Well, I wish I had known that earlier, man! It's too late now, he's gone. And I did it to save the lives of Grady and de Roos!" Renaud paused. "But we'll get the tranquilizer guns in case Phaira-kur comes along. Okay?" MacFerran nodded.

"So what's the deal, Renaud?" asked Blake. "Where are Thurston and Ambrose? And Jarvis?" Renaud shook his head. "Wonderful. I leave you in charge and you get them killed. I knew I should have led the expedition." Blake moved to the weapons cabinet and pulled out a tranquilizer gun. He loaded it and moved back to Renaud. "From now on I'll lead the courageous missions."

The look between the eyes of Renaud and Blake were of pure hatred now. Renaud had not wanted anyone to die, not even the slimy Protoss. And here was Blake, being the giant idiot of a leader he was, blaming Renaud for everything as usual.

"We're going out and hunting for that pig. Right now," Blake said to the soldiers. As he did, Garrett, Straatman, Wald, Ames, and Connant were all entering the bunker. Renaud tried to stop Blake.

"Look, you fool; don't you see that hunting isn't working? It got two men killed, for Christ's sake! We need to come up with a plan to capture that thing without hurting him! I mean, you don't want to give him back and have him say to all his Protoss buddies that we harmed him!"

"Oh, don't be stupid, Renaud. That piece of dirt is as dumb as a rock."

"Then he's still smarter than you. And let me tell you something, Blake. I don't think Phaira-kur is dumb at all! I think he's a fucking genius! So don't you go pissing him off!"

Blake pushed Renaud away with the tranquilizer gun, and Renaud struck forward with his arms reaching for Blake's neck. Van Camp grabbed Renaud and tried to stop him, but that only helped Blake slam Renaud's stomach with the butt of the rifle. Renaud heaved in pain, nearly falling over. Blake lifted the butt of the gun again to hit Renaud's head when Snider pounced on top of him. Newell and Stratham pulled Snider off, and the commotion was unbelievable.

Once the fighting had stopped, Renaud looked at Blake and flicked him off.

"You shouldn't be in charge, Blake. You're going to get all of us killed," Renaud said as he wheezed.

Blake stood on top of a small box to address the crowd.

"Gentlemen, I have some news for you. Renaud here thinks that my methods are unreasonable. So I'm now going to ask you all to do the following: choose who you would rather follow. Me or Renaud. Renaud let two men die while he was out chasing the monsters. I plan to keep everyone safe. I mean, no one in this bunker was hurt, were they? I'm going out to hunt down Phaira-kur by any means necessary, and everyone who believes in me can follow. Arm yourselves and join me… or stay here with that scum we call Renaud."

Blake stepped down from the box and looked straight into Renaud's eyes.

"Happy trails, Renaud. I thought you were on my side, but I guess not." Blake left the bunker with a mob of scientists with weapons behind him. In the distance, Renaud heard Blake yell, "Split up and find the Protoss bastard!" Following that was a cheer from the men.

Renaud was now propped up against the wall of the bunker with his few followers: Van Camp, Snider, MacFerran, Garrett, Straatman, Stratham, Newell, Connant, de Roos, and Ames.

He couldn't believe that he had lost the trust of all those scientists in the base. He couldn't believe that they thought Blake was better fit to lead than him. And most of all, he couldn't believe that so many people were marching off to their death.

"We're with you, Renaud," Van Camp said, smiling. Renaud smiled back as he sighed. He slowly stood up, with Van Camp and Snider helping him by clutching his arms.

He looked at what was left of the weapons chest. Nothing. The scientists – who knew quantum physics and analytical chemistry but didn't know how to fire a gun – had taken everything. Renaud was left with what he had and what the soldiers had.

"What's the plan, big daddy?' asked Snider.

Renaud's eyes fixated on the badge that Blake had dropped.

"They're going to kill Phaira-kur if they feel it's necessary," said Renaud. "We can't let that happen. We've had that poor creature locked up so long… and now that it's out they want to just eliminate it."

"Well, he is very dangerous," said Ames.

"I know he is. But only because of what we did. We have to get Blake's tranquilizer – any tranquilizer – and put Phaira-kur to sleep and give him back. Or leave him somewhere. But we can't kill him. One is enough; those Protoss may spare us if we keep Phaira-kur alive."

"Well, how do we keep him alive when Blake and all of them are hunting him?" asked Van Camp.

"It's simple, but dark," started Renaud. "They're hunting for Phaira-kur? Well, we're hunting for Blake."

----

Phaira-kur wasn't moving. He could only stare. Who had done this? Who had killed Durhkhan? His body was just lying there, helpless, and there was nothing Phaira-kur could do. An enragement swelled inside of Phaira-kur's feeble body as he held Thurston's neck with one hand.

Thurston's legs were scrambling about on the floor as he grasped Phaira-kur's hand, trying to break free. But the Protoss zealot was just holding him like a toy.

A blue energy started to accumulate on the palm of Phaira-kur's hand, and Thurston could feel a burning sensation. He became more erratic; flinging his legs about as he beat at the hand that held him.

But Phaira-kur was too concentrated on finding the evil-doer that had hurt Durhkhan. This was unacceptable. This would be the ultimate punishment.

As he gaped at his fallen companion, he clenched his fist, with a zap of the sapphire psionic energy, and Thurston slumped to the ground with his neck stretched and withered.

Phaira-kur closed his eyes and held his head. Was now the time? Was it time for him to unleash his full capabilities? No… not until he found the murderer of Durhkhan.

Not until this horrible dream had ended.