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StarCraft: Stewardship

Chapter 4: Consolation

The gods had not come. The golden orb was moving down from the sky, the creatures of the Emptiness were still on this world, his people were dying and the gods had still not come.

Runs Quite Quickly sat there, on the solid cloud, looking up at the statue of Raise the Glow. Did so in the knowledge that at the least, his stomach had stopped bleeding. The leaves had stemmed the blood, and hopefully, warded off the sprites of the air as well. If the brulokon was still alive, he might have told Runs that he was right. He might even claim that it was by his faith that had kept the sprites at bay. Or perhaps he'd do none of those things, because the brulokon was likely dead, and he might well be the last of the people. He heard a roaring sound above and saw the flying daggers through the trees. They ignored him. Creatures of the Emptiness, the gods, it didn't matter. They flew through the air, leaving behind a noxious smell, and he was left below. A moment later they were gone. All that remained was the cloud above in the hovering ocean.

The ocean. He closed his eyes, and thought of the actual ocean that lay to the west, where Raise the Glow brought down her golden orb beyond the world's edge, where people had sailed its waters (according to legend). He had only gone to the ocean a few times, for it was a long distance, and only worth travelling to in times of great need, when the forest could not provide for the people. He and the other hunters would travel there, with spears and nets. They would wade into the water, and use their spears to impale nemetsky, while their nets would bring in dozens of coldar. Once, he had nearly been taken by a derekare. The giant creature had wormed its way out of the waters, devouring Early Morning Riser in an instant. On that day, Runs had proven that he could indeed run (or rather, wade) through water almost as quickly as he might travel over the solid cloud, let alone the grass or soil. Days later, they had returned to the village with a feast. One that day, he had seen Fair as Flower, and realized how true she was to her namesake. On that day, so long ago…

He winced. His stomach was still causing him pain, yet far more of the sensation came from somewhere higher up in his chest. That day was long gone. This day would soon be gone, and then would come the night. Rise the Light would bring his silver orb, and give a softer glow than that of its golden counterpart – not nearly enough to keep him warm. He might survive out here, but what did it matter? Come the dawn, the people would be in the Emptiness. And all he could do was remain on the earth, waiting for his body to join Giver of Life. Gods, monsters, none of it mattered anymore. He looked up at the statue of Raise the Glow. This useless, wooden statue, able to be toppled over, able to be dismantled – completely powerless. As useful and as merciful as the gods themselves. All three eyes looked up at her in a mix of pleading and disgust.

With indifference, her two eyes stared back at him.

Where are you executor?

The Tsokavis was big. All carriers were big, but it wasn't until now that Azimar fully appreciated just how big these ships actually were. Because while its crew could easily get from one part of the ship to another thanks to short-range teleporters, that didn't diminish that the carrier was…well, big. Big enough to carry dozens of interceptors, along with a pair of Phoenix squadrons, and a legion of warriors. A legion they were without, as the Tsokavis had not come here for war, and their actual warriors numbered at around fifty. So not only was the Tsokavis big, it was also empty. And in that emptiness, he had to find Executor Selendis.

And you say it is my kind that hides in the shadows.

The Templar walking down the halls barely acknowledged him. He was the only Nerazim aboard this ship, and Azimar had no doubt that for some of them, that was one Nerazim too many. He could appreciate, even admire Artanis's efforts to integrate the protoss kindreds, and he himself had no ill will to the Khalai, but he knew that it was amicability that was not always reciprocated. Likewise, many of his own kind bore resentment to the followers of the Khala. The Daelaam were splitting at the seams, and while none would say it, Azimar could see the truth – Aiur was the one thing they both desired. Artanis would take back Aiur for them, and until that day came, the Aiur and Shakuras protoss would work as a greater whole. A cracked circle, but at least one with an unbroken circumference.

He continued walking, his soft footsteps nonetheless echoing in the carrier's empty hallways. He was alone. Every Khalai on this ship could sense one another through the Khala, whether they be at its bow or stern. He wondered if he was in tune with the psychic link, whether he might know where Selendis was exactly. Likely not, but still, it might make his search easier. Because for the last hour, the Tsokavis had sat here in space, making no move to Barkul or Shakuras. As prelate, he was the de facto second in command, and as such, his responsibility to find the executor. If she refused to cooperate…He quickened his pace. He didn't want to think about that. Already seeking out Selendis reminded him of Muadun. Only…

Muadun was a hero. He tended to his alavash, but did so because he saw it as his calling. Where is your calling, Selendis?

He pressed a button that led to one of the carrier's training chambers. His head throbbed, and his bones ached. The sooner he-

Zerg!

Raising his cybernetic hand, he prepared to activate his warp blade. A hydralisk was in front of him, and-

No.

He lowered his arm. It was a hologram, no less detailed than those conjured by Sentries, but a hologram nonetheless. Visually it looked no different from an actual hydralisk, but it made no sense for such a creature to be on this ship. Stretching out with his mind, he detected no thought from the monster, not even the mass of the hive mind that connected all their strains. But most tellingly of all, was the knowledge that this was a training chamber. And lo and behold, there was Selendis, wearing nothing but a training robe, and holding nothing but a shikma. The hydralisk towered over her, surpassing her in strength if not speed. It would do no harm given its incorporeal nature, and yet Azimar winced as he saw the Templar dodge the swipe of one of its claws. He had come too close to those monsters' scythes for him to be comfortable with on more than one occasion. Sometimes, he had seen his fellow warriors fall to them.

So he stood there and watched the dance unfold. The hydralisk was a clumsy partner, but Selendis, she moved with the grace of the Firstborn. The danced the dance that all warriors of the Templar performed in battle, weaving in and out of their enemies before striking the killing blow. The zerg would surge forward in a horde, terrans would unleash their weapons of death from a distance, but to the protoss, war was an art form. An art form that, he had to admit, Selendis had mastered, at least as far as close combat went. The hydralisk brought forward its scythe in a horizontal arc, but she ducked. Before the creature could react, she flipped upward, bringing her shikma through the monster's jaw. Holographic blood spilt out and the creature fell to the ground. Dead, he would have called it, if the hologram had ever been alive. A second after it fell, it disappeared, leaving Selendis alone.

"Impressive."

Almost alone. She glanced over at him, eyes blazing – he doubted that this hydralisk was the only conjured foe she had faced thus far.

"How long have you been here?" she asked.

"Long enough to see your dance and be impressed. Though I would like to think that in battle, you would have the benefit of armour and psi-blade as well."

"I would hope, but hope is like the breeze – pleasant to feel, but lost too quickly."

Azimar watched her move across the room, returning the shikma to the weapons rack. All the weapons there were antiquated, for the protoss had no need of crude weapons of iron now, but still, they had their purposes. Ceremonial mostly, but a blade was a blade. Iron could still cut through flesh.

"Why are you here, Azimar?" Selendis didn't look at him as she continued walking. She began taking off her training robe.

"You know why I am here."

"Artanis ordered us to return to Shakuras. I will take us there in due course."

"And how long until the course is set?"

Selendis walked over to her armour, currently held in suspension by anti-grav devices. She turned around and faced him. "It shall be set when I deem it appropriate."

The armour was lowered over her body and attached. Azimar's eyes narrowed.

"You disapprove?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he murmured. "But I can only imagine what the Hierarchy will think of our absence."

"They will think what they will."

Azimar chuckled, and Selendis's eyes narrowed. "What?" she asked.

"You," he said. "Your disdain for my kind is well known, yet you are more Nerazim than you think."

"I have no disdain for your kind."

"A lie, but I shall allow it. The answer to my next question however, I will broker no falsehood."

"And that question is…?"

"Why are you here?" Azimar asked. "And how much of your reason for being so is because of Haven?"

Selendis's eyes flashed. Azimar noted that yes, she was wearing a power suit, and yes, that power suit could generate a pair of psi-blades at the speed of thought. Selendis would not attack him. He could be certain of that at least. But apart from that…

"You forget yourself," she said. She began to head for the chamber's exit.

"I know that you care at least in part for the suffering of the eleesh," Azimar said. "And likewise, you believe in the Dae'Uhl as well. In your eyes, the Hierarchy is ignoring the eleesh's suffering, and now longer upholding the values your empire was founded on."

"Do not presume to lecture me on my values Azimar."

"I do not lecture, but question, and if you need reminding, I shall repeat myself. Why are we here, when the hierarch bids us return to Shakuras? And how much of your delay is due to…other considerations?"

He would have mentioned Haven again, but decided against it. Often, the best plan of attack was not the straight line, but the path of a serpent. Though he knew that in this case, poison already ran through Selendis's veins. It had done so for a cycle.

"What…other considerations?" Selendis asked slowly.

"Glory, such as that achieved by Executor Nevosion. Honour, of both the Firstborn and yourself. And in light of past failures…redemption, perhaps?"

Selendis just stood there. Azimar knew that he'd touched a nerve. Selendis's detractors had touched that nerve for nearly a cycle. She might not believe it, but he pitied her. He too, knew the taint of failure. It had happened in the Koloss system, when he and his fellows had found that the terran Moebius Foundation had unleashed a Void creature. The battle had cost him his arm, Xy'tal his life, and faced with the creature's parting words…hope, he supposed? Sanity? He had never spoken of it, of the horror he feared had been unleashed upon the galaxy. Those close to him had noticed the change, but few were close to him anyway, and he did not seek their solace. Selendis though…well, she had an entire kindred worth of company, but Azimar could see the sickness that gnawed away at her. Perhaps she needed this. Perhaps the Daelaam needed it. But at what cost?

"Haven," she said slowly.

He would find out. "Haven," he repeated. "Your greatest failure. Even after all your triumphs, that is the world that everyone comes back to."

"Yourself included."

"I am obliged to, right now. For the similarities are uncanny. You, alone, on the edge of space, faced with the decision to engage a lesser species. Only then, you had a fleet. And now, a single ship."

"A ship that could still take out the drakul."

"But at what cost? The Hierarchy has asked that question, but have you? And even if history validates your actions here today, how many lives will be spent to fill its pages?"

"When one writes the history of war, ink is the blood of both friend and foe.

Azimar remained silent. One of the sayings of Adun. He knew the writings of the Anakh Su'n, as did many Khalai and Nerazim. It was one of the few things they had in common besides Aiur.

But what of Haven, he reflected? History had made its judgement, and made it negatively. One cycle ago, she had brought a fleet to Haven, in response to an observer detecting an infestation in the terran colonists there – refugees fleeing the wrath of the Queen of Blades, not knowing they had suffered her touch regardless through the virus that would turn some of them into infested terrans. He knew that she had met in battle with the terran James Raynor, who had fought to save the colonists, to give them a chance to find a cure, and somehow, Raynor had forced Selendis to retreat. The entire debacle had cost protoss lives, material, and even a mothership. He did not know the full details of the battle, or its aftermath, but he did understand that it had cast a shadow over Selendis, and her standing as high executor. It was, he suspected, why she was out here in the first place.

"What happened at Haven?" he asked bluntly.

Selendis looked at him. Through her eyes, he could see sorrow, regret, and shame. She was still wearing armour, but her soul remained unprotected. Slowly, she leaned down against the chamber wall, her nerve appendages flowing down like a waterfall into the ocean. One dark and deep, and without comfort.

"Haven," she said. "My greatest shame. My greatest failure."

"How so?" Azimar asked. "I know what happened, but why?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does, in this moment. And I would like to know from you – for your sake, at least."

"You think I have not discussed it?"

"I do, and I think more needs to be said. So I ask again. What happened?"

Selendis paused, closing her eyes. Then, in but a whisper, she uttered, "failure. Failure and pride. Both my own." She opened her eyes – they were colour of the sky, before the storm. The storm that raged inside her.

"I had thought victory was assured," she said. "Haven was, and is, a jewel amongst the stars, and I would not have seen it despoiled by the zerg. I had thought with but one battlecruiser, Raynor would not dare stand against us. We would end the infestation. The terrans would die, but that would be a small price to pay."

"Perhaps not for the humans themselves."

"Perhaps not, and yet even before our might, Raynor did battle. Perhaps he thought I would grant him mercy. Or perhaps he did what he has always done, and did the right thing, regardless of the consequences. Safeguarding innocents against the flame." Her gaze lowered. "On that day, Raynor upheld the Dae'Uhl better than I ever could."

"And he won."

"Won," Selendis said, her eyes flashing, "I unleashed the Purifier, a single mothership that should have been impervious to attack. I held the fleet back, confident in victory, deploying only a fraction of my forces. So yes, Raynor 'won' against those, even destroying the Purifier itself. All for a battle that should never have occurred, when I could have crushed him instantly." She stood up. "The terrans are still on Haven, Azimar. I let them live. But I should never have threatened them, or at least, given them time to make their own salvation. I acted as if the universe had not changed. When we could stride amongst the stars in invincible ships, smiting those in space or land. I failed where Tassadar succeeded. I may invoke his name, but so often, I fear I am not worthy of uttering it."

"And thus, the drakul," Azimar said. "You feel that you owe it to the eleesh to be their saviour, and not just because of the Dae'Uhl. But if you do engage…"

"If I engage, more protoss may die," Selendis said. "And I cannot even say if they will die for a worthy cause. Raynor made his decision at that world, but he is but one man. I am behoved to the Daelaam. And unlike humanity, we cannot afford to waste lives so easily."

Silence descended on the two protoss. Azimar, for his part, had little to say. He would never call Selendis a friend. But he could at least understand her better now. Understand the burden she had borne. Understand why she both sought to engage the drakul, yet also feared to do so. Why she had not moved the Tsokavis out of the system. But they could not stay here forever.

"I know what it is to have burdens," Azimar began, thinking of the Void entity he had encountered, and doing his best to shutter the memory away. "And likewise, I know that one must move on from them."
"I know this as well."

"Then give the order," Azimar said. "You are the ship's commander, after all. You are still the high executor."

He turned to leave. But before he could exit, Selendis asked, "if our positions were reversed, what would you do?"

He stayed in place, and without hesitation, said "I would depart."

"Is it so simple?"

She sounded surprised – surprised enough that he looked back at her. "I pity the eleesh, but we cannot put another species before our own. And I did not spend my life upholding the Dae'Uhl." He paused. "But I am not you. You have your decision to make. Both of us know the needs of the Daelaam, but only you know the needs of your soul. So I leave it to you, Executor. Whatever your choice, I shall follow, whether it be into light or darkness. But the choice itself…that is your domain alone."

A/N

Fun fact, the Selendis vs. hydralisk scene was taken from Inner Fire, but effectively transplanted here. Also there it occurred near the start of the story, whereas I had it occur later here.