Chapter Sixteen: The Trial of Tassadar
Recent events have got me thinking about god.
I know I'm supposed to be reporting on the war. But with all that's happening, I wonder if the Book of Revelation won't be a bit anticlimactic when compared to this.
Is there someone out there watching over us? Or is this universe of devils really all there is?
The odd thing is that the protoss don't really think about any of this. Maybe they don't need to. When they die they go to the khala. The meaning of life is what the Conclave tells them it is. Because the Conclave is god. The Judicator are angels. Anyone who openly questions these things is coming a bit close to heresy.
Sometimes I wonder if the khala isn't a double edged sword for them.
Liberty's Reports, volume IV.
Gethsemane was dead silent as Tassadar was brought before the Chamber of Annihilation. Stormclouds gathered overhead, crowding out the sunlight. The Voice of the Conclave stood before the bound Templar, eyes furious.
"The trial has been completed." said the Voice. "Tassadar of the Templar. You have betrayed your homeland and consorted with the powers of darkness. For this and the murder of your brethren, the Conclave has sentenced you to the Death of Existence.
"Do you have any final words?"
Tassadar looked up. "I could speak, but you would not listen."
Then he marched forward into the chamber willingly. There he was bound by psionic chains, and as it closed over him, he wondered if he was wrong. For as long as he could remember Tassadar had known who he was. He knew that he was right and that the world who denied him was wrong.
And yet he also doubted even himself. What if he was not the one? What if he suffered from some fevered madness which had beset him at birth. He told himself that no madman would be so composed. So knowing. He reminded himself of his grand missions, and how he would see and know things no one else could.
Yet doubt remained.
Doubt was a seed of faith in itself. Without doubt, faith would be meaningless. Yet it made things no easier.
He felt the Chamber of Annihilation begin to sap away at him. His power began to be drawn out of him. Then the pain began. At first, it was only an itch, a minor one. But gradually it spread around his entire body. Soon the itch became an agony. It was all he could do not to scream as it reached inward.
Now it had begun.
Even if he had screamed none would hear him. Those outside watched with fearful judgment. He did not hate them. None among them were truly wicked.
And yet now his mind was searching. His spirit was resolved. But the flesh of the body was weak, and it was demanding that he escape. He did not want to die.
And then he felt the presence.
Suddenly Tassadar was standing in the midsts of a wasteland. A figure he had wrangled with for millennia in many forms was approaching him. This time he had taken the form of a dark-skinned man in a red beret. Tassadar knew the name he went by now.
Duran.
"So you have come, shapeshifter." said Tassadar.
"And here is Tassadar, the Heart of the Khala." said Duran. "Dying by the hand of his own people, does he? Such a shame. All that you could have been, all that you will be, all you were. All gone in a few days of endless torment." He smiled. "Are you truly who you believe you are?
"If you are, then summon your power and destroy this prison."
Tassadar's body screamed for him to do it. The agony was beyond description. And he realized he could do it. He could unleash the full might of his power, not the power of Tassadar, but the power of his true self.
He could annihilate this. Destroy those who opposed him and lead the khalai to victory.
A hollow victory. For to subjugate his people by force of arms would be the actions of a petty dictator. He would style himself a benevolent king, but he would deny them their choice. To maintain his reign, he would need to call on the Dark Templar.
He saw himself upon a world he had never walked, speaking with a female Nerazim. They spoke polite words, and she agreed to send troops. To maintain his control of Aiur. His control.
Rather than bringing salvation, he would be known as a tyrant who forced the light to worship the darkness. A bringer of the Nerazim's domination. And when he passed from this world, Aldaris and the Conclave would be known as heroes. It would be their example that was followed.
"The restraints upon me are but metal and glass." said Tassadar. "Far more to be feared are the prisons of the mind."
Duran walked behind him. "So willing to throw yourself to your death. Then if you truly are the Heart of the Khala, destroy yourself. Obliterate this body and succumb to death.
"It will surely restore you to life. For without you what hope is there?"
And Tassadar realized this too was a way of escape. He could speed his death. End himself and immediately return to how he once had been. Things would return to how they were before. Surely others could carry on without him?
Yet even if he were to do so, there would be no unification. Zeratul and his kind would slay the cerebrates and flee unthanked. Fenix and Artanis would flee with them into the dark corners of the universe. The Conclave would continue as it had been until the void had grown so great that the khala could no longer stand.
This would but delay the inevitable.
"It is not the lot of the firstborn to test their maker." said Tassadar. "Nor do evil that good may be made out of it. But to seek good in all things and defy the wicked."
Duran sneered and walked to face him in full. "So you say. But what has that defiance wrought but endless chaos and blood. I tell you, there is not one good being among them all. Not one has not strayed from your teachings.
"Not one has obeyed the instructions laid out by the faces of god.
"Long ago you died for the sins of man. But all your sacrifice has wrought is further evil. A wretched race of steel vultures and brigands clad in iron. Whole worlds destroyed. The heavens scorched black. The earth defiled and destroyed.
"What more will they destroy?"
So Duran invoked Tassadar's other faces, did he? So be it. "Did I not say long ago, shapeshifter? 'Heaven and Earth will pass away. But my words will never pass away.'
"My words remain in the hearts of my subjects.
"While yours fade from memory like a wind between the grass."
"We both have many faces we are known by, Tassadar." said Duran. "And though few remember my words I know well their effect. I have sewn more destruction and discord than you can ever hope to heal.
"We are much the same: two equal and opposite forces in opposition. But it is always easier to destroy than to create. You are doomed to fail."
"The wounds you have dealt are but a passing thing." said Tassadar. "I tell you that every one of them will be healed. And though scars will remain, they shall cause no pain, but be the memory of my triumph.
"We are nothing alike, you and I.
"I have many names and faces. Each one representing an aspect of the perfection of creation before its marring. Yet you are a twisted mockery. Your masks are but lies.
"You are none of them. You have no true self, for there is no truth left in you. I know, because all that you are comes wholly from me."
Duran's eyes flared, and some semblance of his true self showed through. And Tassadar beheld no man, or god, but a twisted thing. A being of unparalleled pride and hatred. Here was a thing for whom the misery and destruction were the goal. Not for the sake of demented pleasure, or for a twisted desire for a better world, but for its own sake. His intellect and cunning, all his virtues, were no more precious to Duran than a jagged stone was to the first murderer. Merely a means to a horrible end, born of malice.
Duran was but a mask for a being who was the Void Incarnate. Yet peering into his spirit revealed nothing but further masks. He shifted between them, using them to further his innumerable horrors. He changed them regularly, lest one become precious to him.
"I am beyond you, Tassadar." said Duran. "I have turned your virtues into vices that are far stronger. Do you believe that humility and forgiveness toppled the Confederacy? Or that chastity and temperance led to the spread of humanity across the stars? What great future has patience brought your followers? And when have kindness and charity been met with anything but disappointment?
"I made the Dominion of Man. It will succeed where the old order failed. All you can is desperately try to twist my creations around to destroy me.
"For what have your teachings wrought save lambs to the slaughter?
"You have failed."
Tassadar eyes flared. The wasteland was swept away. Light emanated out from him. The chains upon him faded away as Duran cowered and Tassadar arose. His shadow lengthened outwards. "WHO MADE MANKIND?! WHO FORMED THE PROTOSS AND THE ZERG AND THE ANGELS OF HEAVEN?! DID NOT I?!"
The light faded and Duran would have fled. But Tassadar had not yet given him leave to depart. "Remember your place, shapeshifter. I forged all spirits before they were ever given flesh. And yours was among the first. In you, I gifted great power and splendor beyond that of any other.
"Pride too was of my making. As were all of those virtues you pretend to have fashioned in your hubris.
"Those who have misused these qualities have done so because of your teachings. But they are of my creation. Virtues in themselves. You did not create them. For the power of creation has its uttermost source in me, and you have rejected that for spite's sake. And so you mar and destroy, and seek to drag others into oblivion that they might share your appointed fate.
"You are the Lord of Sin. And so you are made in sins image.
"YOU. ARE. NOTHING."
Duran shuddered in pain. This would be the part where Tassadar ought to have offered him the chance to redeem himself. But it would be futile. The Conclave and Aldaris had erred because of a lack of understanding. They could be reasoned with.
Yet Duran was far beyond that. Tassadar perceived that he could redeem himself, of course. There was no creature wholly beyond his reach. But the same power which gave him that insight told him that Duran would never accept such a hand.
He was altogether lost.
"…Better to reign in the void, then serve in heaven." said Duran.
Tassadar was fairly certain he'd used that line before.
Duran departed, defeated and frustrated once again. Telling himself that the evils he created would not be turned to greater goods. Convincing himself that his cause was not futile. The shapeshifter twisted his own memory of the event. He told himself that Tassadar was merely blustering before a final fall.
The usual sort of nonsense. Why had he even bothered coming? No doubt an attempt to fuel his own damning pride.
At the end of the day, however, Duran had only achieved one thing by this visit. Namely distracting Tassadar from the agonizing pain of his present torture. Even now Tassadar could distract himself by contemplating the nature of evil.
Nice job fixing it villain.
Artanis returned from his scouting mission later that day. He found Fenix upon the bridge of the Ganthrithor. They had been flying in the border regions and attempting to stay hidden. Yet with Tassadar gone they had no goal, no great hope. Without the Dark Templar, they could launch no offensives.
Fenix saluted. "En Taro Adun, Executor. All seems lost now, but still, we must fight on. We must find Tassadar and secure his release from the Judicator before they can execute him for treason. Without him, I fear there is no way to defeat the Zerg and their Overmind."
"What of the Dark Templar?" asked Tassadar. "Has there been any sign?"
Fenix sighed. "Zeratul and his Dark Templar have vanished, leaving us to fend for ourselves. I wonder if Tassadar was mistaken to have put his trust in them." Then they received a message. He looked up at the scanners. "Strange, our instruments are picking up a Terran Vessel. The Hyperion. We should reposition ourselves before they locate us."
"The Hyperion?" said Artanis. "Reveal ourselves to them."
"Artanis, the terrans have sided against us." said Fenix.
"The commander of that vessel is Captain Raynor." said Artanis. "He is a trusted friend of Tassadar and Zeratul. Do as I ask."
"As you wish." said Fenix. "We are receiving a transmission from Captain Raynor's command ship."
Raynor's presence was with them suddenly. "This is Raynor. I'd like to help if I can. Tassadar laid it on the line for me and my crew on Char. I'd like to repay the debt. "Besides, I'm a long way from home, surrounded by hostile aliens. I've got to do something."
"Then you shall, bold human. You shall." said Fenix. "We are at present searching for any sign of Tassadar's location. However, I fear he may be executed before we can find him."
"Well I may be able to help you there." said Raynor. "I recently got a message from Zeratul. He says that Tassadar is being held in a place called Gethsemane. They mean to execute him soon."
"Gethesmane?" asked Artanis. "They cannot mean to-" The idea repulsed him.
"No one has been killed in that fashion for millennia." said Fenix.
"Well we've got to get there quick." said Raynor. "I figure if we strike hard and fast we should be able to break in and get Tassadar out."
"There are heavy defenses in that place." said Fenix. "But it must be done if we are to prove victorious. Send word to Zeratul to meet us there."
"Right." said Raynor.
Author's Note:
I am feeling really awkward posting these chapters. I've known what I intended to make Tassadar from the very beginning. But I still feel really nervous about putting it here. For one thing, writing someone as a being from a higher plane of existence is incredibly difficult. Evil is easy to write. You just think about things in a nastier way. But writing a messiah requires you to write someone who is morally perfect.
I'm not morally perfect and no one I know is morally perfect. So the result always ends up flawed.
Now in regards to making Duran the satanic archetype and not Amon, how shall I put this?
Amon couldn't hold Duran's jock. Duran is a smooth talking, heartless manipulator who signs off billions of innocent people without a second thought. He uses everyone around him for end goals which will make everything worse for everyone. Amon...
Um... Amon is an Overmind ripoff. Except with none of the coolness. Or success. And I guess he stole some things from Sageras. And he dies like a bitch.
I guess what I'm saying is; Which would you prefer to be the physical manifestation of evil in your setting?
Actually, I originally intended to use the Overmind. But I realized that for all his magnificence, the Overmind isn't evil enough to play the role of satan. So he wouldn't work at all.