Walk Without Rhythm

A StarCraft: Elizabeth Story

By Violetlight

Disclaimer:StarCraft doesn't belong to me, as much as I wish it did. It belongs to Blizzard, but all the characters in this story are my creations, my property, so don't use them without my permission. Once again, I would like to thank Frank Herbert and Fat Boy Slim, and also you for reading this! Thanks!

Part 2: The Sighting

So, here I am, sitting with two other Zealots and a High Templar, zooming over the desert in a Shuttle with a bad sense of humour (it hit me in the tail with the ramp when I was coming on). Yes, I know I'm not a Protoss, but since I basically fight the same way as a Zealot does, by slashing at my enemies with my claws, almost just like how they slash with their fancy Psi Blades, I'm technically considered a Zealot by the Council. I don't feel like being shoved into a cryo-chamber and blasted into space, so I'm not about to argue with them.

Arvix, the young Zealot who invited me along, is with me in this particular Shuttle. I recognize the two others here as well. The yellow-scaled, serious-looking High Templar is Atdaias, who is about a hundred years older than Arvix, and I don't want to know how much older he is than me. He's a veteran warrior, used to the action of battle, so I'm not surprised that he's as bored as the Zealots. That, and I have a feeling that Drixis asked him to come along with us, since bored Zealots (much like many bored Zerglings and Terran Marines I could mention) have been known to cause trouble. Wenessal, on the other claw, is a rookie. She just joined the Templar ranks a few months ago and is very excited about finally being allowed to do her part in the war. I heard that the Conclave, the group of idiots that used to run everything on Aiur, had forbidden female Protoss, even those of the Templar caste, to fight. How stupid! If you ask me, female Protoss are better at fighting than the males are in many cases. Why some male Protoss, and Terrans, for that matter, seem to like to think that the females of their species need protecting from every little thing is beyond me. That's just another of many reasons why I'm glad that I'm Zerg. We Zerg are more like the Dark Templar in that respect, everybody and anybody can fight.

Another similarity I have noticed between my race and the Protoss is that like the Zerg, the Protoss seem to be divided into different broods, or "tribes", as they call them, based on the colour of their scales. I think this was so that the Xel'Naga, the group of alien busybodies that created both of our races, could tell different Zerg and Protoss with different jobs apart or something, I don't know. Either way, the system has stuck. Different Zerg broods have different specialities, for example, Tiamut Brood, whose members have blood-red carapaces, was in charge of guarding the Overmind before it died. Fenris Brood's Cerebrate, Nargil, is biology genius, leading his green-carapaced brood in finding new life to assimilate into the Swarm and improving existing Zerg breeds. His Zerg were probably the ones here on Zz'gash thousands of years ago, searching for the Dune Runners much like we are now. Other broods had other functions; orange Garm (before the Dark Templar Zeratul made Cerebrate soufflé out of Zasz), brown Grendel, white Baelrog, and blue Surtur, among others, are warrior broods, and the space-black Zerg of Basilisk brood excel in espionage.

Protoss tribes were once organized in much the same way. On Aiur, the Tribes were arranged into three different castes – the Judicators, the Templar, and the Khalai – and different tribes in the castes specialized in different functions. Most of the Scientists working on this project, for example, have white scales, so they are from the Shelak Tribe. If I remember correctly from Drixis' "how-to-act-like-a-civilized-Protoss" lessons, (that he insisted I listen to, if I wanted to be under his command) Shelak, although being part of the Judicator caste, didn't usually boss other Protoss around, unlike most Judicators. Instead, they were scholars, historians, and scientists, obsessed with knowledge. However, they are sometimes unwilling to share their knowledge with others. That explains a few things.

Arvix, who is now fidgeting in his seat, has dark blue scales, so he's a member of Sargas Tribe. Although the Sargas tribe on Aiur was officially regarded as part of the Templar caste, it was infamous for its members almost constantly arguing with the ruling Judicators. The great Protoss hero Tassadar, who helped bring back together the Dark Templar with their Aiur brethren, (and also made his Carrier do a Scourge-dive into the Overmind, really screwing things up for the Zerg) was a member of this tribe. Drixis told me that more Dark Templar come from Sargas than any other tribe. Arvix, as I can tell by his severed nerve cords cut close to his head, the sign of the Dark Templar, is an example of that.

Wenessal, who is looking out the window, is orange, and so are most of the Scout Fighter pilots who, for a lack of anything better to do, are following us, so they are from Auriga Tribe. On Aiur, these Templar specialized in flying and space travel. Nageer, from green Akilae, is a representative of one of the strongest fighting tribes, and yellow Atdaias's tribe, Venatir, was almost as big a pain in the tail as Sargas was to the Judicators. Ara, with their red scales, made up the notorious Judicators themselves, hence why I haven't seen any Ara members around here. They don't usually get along very well with the Dark Templar. Drixis almost turns blue with anger if he so much as sees an Ara Protoss. Drixis, with his purple scales, is a member of Furinax Tribe. On Aiur, they were part of the Khalai caste, the workers and smiths of the Protoss - basically, if the robotic Probes weren't doing rock and gas line duty, they would be. Khalai who weren't happy with their jobs, especially if they wanted to be Templar, were branded as "heretics" on Aiur, which, I guess, would be the equivalent to a Zerg telling its Cerebrate to f off. They were severely punished, sometimes killed or even shot out into space to die, just for a little thing like wanting to fight. Rumour has it that this is what happened to Zeratul, the leader of the Dark Templar, and also a Furinax, like Drixis.

I once mentioned this similarity between the Protoss Tribes and the Zerg Broods to Drixis (I asked him who his Cerebrate was), and I got slapped for it, so I guess the Protoss don't like this resemblance to us. Although at times they can go on and on about how "great" the Xel'Naga were (I still think they just couldn't mind their own business), they don't like to be reminded that the Xel'Naga created us Zerg too. It's very confusing.

"Hey, Deekah." It looks like Arvix has got sick of fidgeting and wants to talk.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think the Dune Runners look like?"

"I don't know. The Scientists wouldn't let me look at the vids either."

"I know, but do you think they look much like Zerglings?" Arvix asks.

"Maybe. It's hard to tell. Some of us were changed more by the Overmind than other Zerg strains."

"Dune Runners probably do not have claws like yours." Wenessal comments.

"Probably no spikes on the tail either." Arvix adds.

"Why not? Zerg aren't the only things out there with claws."

"Your front claws were obviously made to be weapons. I doubt anything like that has evolved in Nature." Wenessal tries to explain.

"How do you know? Have you ever seen a Dune Runner?"

"Well…no…"

"Then you don't know, do you!"

"Deekah, look at it this way," Atdaias begins. "The only creatures, other than the Dune Runners, that we detected in the surface scans were small creatures, the same size as the Dune Runners or smaller. Zerglings have large claws so that they can attack things that are bigger than they are. Why would a Dune Runner need something like that?"

"They're not the only things out there." I reply.

"What, like your imaginary sand monsters?" Arvix laughs sarcastically.

"Shut up! There's something out there, I know it."

"Sure there is --"

"Are you calling me a lier?!" I snarl. I will not allow my honour to be insulted in such a way!

"Deekah, calm down." Atdaias tells me. "Arvix, you know the rules; if you want to challenge another warrior, do it the proper way."

"Alright, fine, High Templar Atdaias. Deekah, I challenge you to a sparring match. Meet me in the Citadel of Adun when we get back."

"It would be my pleasure to pound your Protoss ass into the ground!"

"Deekah…" Atdaias warns.

"I mean, challenge accepted."

"Fine, Zerg." Arvix accepts. "And I'll tell you what. If there is something dangerous out there, and you're right, and…well…what do you want me to do for you if you're right?"

I recognise this behaviour, the Terrans call it "betting". Well, two can play at this game. "If I'm right, then you have to steal Drixis' comm. computer."

"What for?"

"Don't ask questions, just agree to do it!"

"Alright, alright. But if I win…you have to lick Drixis on the face, in front of everybody!"

"What?! Ewww! No! Believe me, inter-species…stuff like that, does not work!"

"How would you know?"

"None of your business!"

"Okay then, no comm. computer."

"Oh…okay, fine. But I know I'll win."

"Sure you will…Deekah and Drixis in the-"

"Shut up Arvix, I could hook you up with a nice Defiler I know, if you like."

"What!? No way!" Arvix shouted, and I'm pretty sure I heard Wenessal chuckle to herself.

"Zealots…" Atdaias sighs exasperatedly.

"Scout One to Shuttle Five," the Shuttle's comm. system beeped before Arvix could say anything else.

"This is Shuttle Five." Atdaias rushes to the pilotless control panel of the robotic "box with wings" that we're flying in and answers the call.

"We're detecting a disturbance down in the sand about 2 klicks away. Should we investigate, High Templar?"

"Yes, but lead us to minimum sight range. We don't want to scare the Dune Runners away."

"Acknowledged."

Our Shuttle, as well as the six others in our little fleet, starts to automatically follow the four Scouts towards the "disturbance." This is it! I'm finally going to see the Dune Runners myself!

It doesn't take very long for the Shuttles to fly to the disturbance, even with their relatively slow flight time compared to the Scouts. As soon as we reach the coordinates, I can't help but rush to our Shuttle's window. Arvix and Wenessal are excited too, and stand quickly to take spots behind me, looking out at the desert over my head. Atdaias, a little less excitedly, takes his place.

The Dune Runners are a little hard to see at first, since their sandy golden carapaces blend in perfectly with the dunes, but I can soon make out the small pack. They do look a lot like Zerglings, but there are some differences. Their middle legs are longer and more muscular; they actually serve more as legs than as arms like mine do, and their tails are longer and less spiky, although they have some spines along the back. They don't have a large head shield like I do, but their ears are more pronounced, and they do have a small frill at the back of their heads. They're just a bit smaller than a Zergling, but not by much. The most surprising thing, to my Protoss companions, is that they do possess the same, long, killer front claws as Zerglings do. I wonder…did the Zerg assimilate them because of those claws?

The Dune Runners are living up to their name, running across the sand as fast as a fully evolved Zergling. They're running almost the exact same way I was running earlier, with uneven footsteps, and I wish I could be down there with them, feeling the sand under my claws, the wind rush across my carapace; running with my ancestors, pure freedom! Suddenly, the ten Dune Runners making up this pack stop running and they gather together, standing in a circle. They then begin to do something amazing!

One Dune Runner raises its head, and cries out an eerie, high-pitched howl, an alien scream that echoes through the hull of the Shuttle, a sound that no Zergling I know of has ever made. "Computer, activate audio sensors." I whisper as the others in the pack howl in turn. The lead Dune Runner then stamps its left back foot on the ground, then the right quickly twice, then left, then right twice again. The others start to follow suit. The leader then adds its middle legs to the strange, drum-like beat, then its front legs, its large claws scraping rhythmically against the sand, shifting it evenly. The other nine Dune Runners join the pulsing dance in turn, perfectly matching the leader's beat. For these musicians, the their feet and claws are their instruments, the desert wasteland their audience. The mystical beat seems to reach up towards space, and down to the planet's core, all at once, and suddenly, I remember! The music reaches to somewhere far inside my mind, touches something hidden deep down in the recesses of my consciousness. Like with my instinctive knowledge of the desert, part of me remembers this song, every footstep, every long-forgotten beat. I remember different versions of the dance as well, used for different purposes. This is the Hunting Dance, I suddenly realise, the Dance of Life.

"Deekah," one of the Protoss whispers. I don't know which one. "What are they doing?"

"They are dancing." I answer, not really paying attention. The dance is what is important.

"But, you said we should not walk with even footsteps on the sand."

"They're not walking, they're dancing." I state dreamily.

"But for what?"

"They dance for their lives."

"Deekah, you are not making any sense."

"What about the danger in the sand?"

"There's no danger, and this proves it!"

"No, you are wrong Arvix, the danger is very real…and they are calling it!"

"What! What are you talking about, Deekah?" Atdaias asks, alarmed, as I slowly sink back to reality.

"High Templar!" one of the Scout pilots suddenly beeps over the comm. system. "We're detecting a disturbance in the sand, a big one, right below the Dune Runners!"

The Dune Runners suddenly and abruptly stop their dance, and scattered, running from their circle like waves from a thrown stone in water. A few seconds later, a…whirlpool…I don't know how else to describe it, appears where they were dancing, and with a deafening roar, something huge bursts from the desert!

"By Tassadar! What is that thing?!" a Scout pilot yells.

"It's as big as a Carrier!" another shouts.

I can only watch, stare, as the creature appears. It looks like an immense worm, with not two, but three gaping jaws (arranged, strangely, like the petals of a colossal flower) lined as far down as I can see with rows and rows of sharp, pointy teeth. It dives and breaches through the sand, like a massive fish through water, effortlessly. It's trying to catch the Dune Runners, the creatures that called it to the surface, but it, not they, is the one being hunted. The Dune Runners spin around and suddenly rush straight towards their immense prey, bounding across the sand, making huge leaps. The lead Dune Runner springs up, jumping onto the creature and rakes its claws down the body of the worm, slicing a huge strip of meat from its side. The other Dune Runners do the same, each taking a strip of worm flesh, causing ten large, vertical wounds, still barely cuts to this behemoth of the desert. Taking their prizes, the Dune Runners race off across the desert, leaving the worm, which then dives back into the abyss of the sandy sea. As suddenly as it began, the Hunt is finished.

The Protoss are silent, still trying to take what they have just seen. Atdaias finally speaks. "We…should return to base to report what we have just witnessed." The other Protoss silently agree, as our Scouts and Shuttles turn around and head back to base.

When we return, Drixis and a few of the Scientists are waiting for us. "What happened?" he asks.

"Dark Templar, we found the source of danger in the desert, and you won't believe what it is…" I hear Atdaias begin his report. I'll undoubtedly have my own reporting to do when he's finished, but for now, I have a challenge to meet.

As I walk towards the Citadel of Adun, a large, floating building where the Templar forces train for battle, I can't get the Hunt out of my mind; the speed of the Hunt, the excitement, and especially the Dance. I may have been in a Shuttle hundreds of feet in the air above the Hunt, but I felt like I was there. It was like I was running, leaping myself; like my own claws were tearing strips off of the Sandworm. I haven't felt so excited, so alive, since I can't remember when.

I walk up to the lift leading into the Citadel, and it carries me up inside, where I walk to the sparring room where Arvix said he would meet me. He isn't there yet. I saw him talking to Wenessal after we left the Shuttle, he must still be with her. No matter, I can wait.

I begin to think again of the Hunt, the Dance, and without knowing it, I find my feet taping in tune to the beat still echoing through my mind. I wonder…?

I take off the heavy Protoss battle armour that was made for me when I first joined the Templar. It's basically the same as a Zealot's power suit, but specially made to fit a Zergling, with golden-coloured metal covering my hind legs and front legs, but leaving my back feet, my front big claws, and my entire middle legs free. The metal is arranged in segmented plates over my back and down my tail, making me look a little like a miniature Reaver, a slow-moving beetle-like robot the Protoss use instead of tanks. The segmented plates cover my neck and chest, and two loops of metal making up the suit's shield generator extend over my back from my neck, attaching behind my front shoulders. Located in the chest of my suit is a small, blue, Khaydarin crystal, which provides power to my suit. The Protoss use these crystals to power just about everything, come to think of it. My audio translator, which translates my thoughts into an audio voice, standard equipment on all Zealot suits, is located in the collar. My metal mask completes the armour, which can all come off rather easily, thank the Swarm. I leave it lying in a pile in the corner of the sparring room. Now clothed only in my own natural Zerg carapace, I begin to dance.

It's awkward at first, trying to get my legs to work properly as I imitate the movements of the Dune Runners. My legs aren't even the same as theirs anymore, my middle legs especially, but I improvise. I lift my left back leg once, then my right back leg twice, left once, right twice, left, right right, left, right right, slowly adding beats, as my middle and forelegs join in, my claws clinking against the floor, adding a mysterious, bell-like sound to the Dance. I can't believe I'm doing it! I'm dancing the Dance of the Hunt! It's not exactly the same as the Dune Runner's dance, it has it's own, unique beat. I feel exhilarated! I dance and dance, faster with each step, the rhythm directing my movements. I even sing! My voice may be lower than a Dune Runner's, but the notes of the song come just as naturally as the movements of my dance, as I let the music guide me. I let the music take its course, letting it slow, not abruptly like the Dune Runner's dance - there are no Sandworms here - but softly, gently. I lower my head and close my eyes as my dance comes to a close, and for a few seconds, the room is completely silent. Then, I hear a new sound…applause? I turn around.

Arvix is standing at the front of the room. I didn't even notice him come in. Did he see the whole dance?

Arvix eye-smiles. "Deekah, that was wonderful!"