Zeratul walked the corridors of Gantrithor, keeping to the shadows, rarely letting the others see him pass. His fellow Nerazim kept mostly silent and invisible, sticking together in their allocated space. Tassadar ordered his crew to let them go wherever on the ship they felt comfortable, but many of them had barely been seen. Tassadar had granted Zeratul the Gantrithor's second in command quarters; but he had quickly let him know it was just a formality.

'You do not have to sleep alone tonight,' said Tassadar, hooking Zeratul's thumb with his. He knew Tassadar had wanted to embrace him, hold him tight like when they were alone. But he couldn't, not here, not before anyone. Their hands though were shielded from their company, just long enough to grant them a stolen moment.

'Call for me, and I will come,' said Zeratul, watching Tassadar tilt his head to the side in that way it did when he was happy.

He had not called yet; but it was still early. It had been but a few hours since he had left his quarters, requesting he sleep. Rika had walked the hallways since Zeratul's departure; he hoped Tassadar rested well. The weight of Aiur, of the entirety of their race rested on his shoulders. He stood between the Khala and the Nerazim; between the light and the dark, and was hated for it. Zeratul curled a hand to a fist; it made him seethe with anger. There was little that unsettled his demeanour; he could be still his temper better than most; he could quell his emotions well. But when it came to Tassadar, everything changed.

His cloak shifted as he waved open the door to the common hall. A quiet descended as he stepped inside. There were more people inside than he wished, but he saw the one he sought; the one who stuck out amongst them all; Raynor. Templars ceased talking as he walked by and they stared, unashamed. A few of his brethren were here, sitting aside from the others, separate and alone. He gave them a nod of recognition and they repeated the gesture to their prelate.

Raynor was hunched over a flask of terran whisky, alone, his pistol sat on the table, the safety latch off, ready to fire. He was filthy; splatters of blood, protoss, terran and zerg still stained his skin where his armour had broken. And an an angry, deep welt cut through his forearm. None of it seemed to bother him, nothing did except taking another drink. Zeratul slid onto the stool opposite Raynor, clasping his hands. His claws were still retracted.

'Do you not wish to be with your people?' asked Zeratul, watching him take another swig from the flask.

'Who even are my people any more?' he said with a slur, setting down the flask. 'A got the dominion on my ass.' He paused and stared out the tall windows, bare into deep space. 'And Kerrigan.'

'The Kerrigan you knew is no more, Jim Raynor,' said Zeratul as Raynor took another drink.

Jim smirked.'You ain't wrong.' He emptied the flask and slid it aside, leaning forward onto the table that was hovering without support, like most protoss structures. 'To answer your original question - your protoss buddies - or well, Tassadar's protoss buddies are fixing up my armour. It got badly roughed up back there,' said Raynor, motioning behind him with his thumb. 'Thought I'd come along for the ride.'

'We have no food nor water,' said Zeratul. He glanced to the door as Rika entered, tall and proud. He glided across the floor with ease, his psionic appendages twisted with golden silk. They hung past each shoulder, rather than in unison from the top of his head; there was a thrive for individuality within him; Zeratul could feel it.

Raynor shrugged, screwing the top onto his flask. 'I got a few bottles of whisky and water with me. Maybe some bread. I can't remember what I brought. Frankly, I don't give a damn.'

'We need you at your best, Raynor,' said Zeratul as Rika approached. 'Tassadar and I - we all have much to face when we return to Aiur. We need you.'

'What d'ya want anyway Zeratul? I'm done with your lectures for today. And it ain't even midday. Or it might be. I dunno.' Raynor leant back and stretched his arms, rolling the tension from his shoulders just as Rika paused by their table. 'Great. More lectures.'

'I am here for Zeratul, terran,' said Rika, turning away from Raynor.

'Fine by me,' said Raynor.

Rika stared at Raynor, his pale blue eyes flickering.

'What?' said Raynor.

'I am here for Zeratul,' he repeated, 'alone.'

Raynor smirked, grabbing his flask and pistol, but Zeratul halted his retreat, gripping his arm with his hand.

'Whatever you have to say, Rika, you can say before Raynor and I. Tassadar holds this terran in the highest regard; he is an ally; he is a friend.'

Zeratul turned, his green eyes darkening as he stared at Rika; he had felt the words of the templar try and penetrate his mind. They lingered at the fringe of his psionic energies, but they were not strong enough to be heard.

'You dare -' seethed Zeratul.

Rika glided back a step, raising a hand in apology. 'Prelate, I overstepped my bounds -'

Zeratul let go of Raynor's arm, his claws extending in warning to the templar. 'Speak,' said Zeratul, simply.

Rika took a moment to compose himself before continuing. 'I spoke with Tassadar earlier - it seems our warp drive may take more than a day to fix. The zerg were ruthless.'

'We can use the Hyperion - she'll be ready to go in a day,' said Raynor.

Rika glanced at Raynor, but it was Zeratul who spoke.

'Tassadar will not leave without Gantrithor,' he said as Rika nodded.

'Correct. And,' he continued, 'two of your...dark templars have informed us of a colony of your people at a nearby planet that could be of use to us on the battle on Aiur.' Rika tried to speak with enthusiasm and without prejudice, but there was a quiver of insecurity in his words. Zeratul could feel it linger on his words and seep from his skin; but he said nothing. It would take time; not all had the vision that Tassadar beheld.

'Have you informed Artanis?' asked Zeratul, spreading his hand across the table. He retracted his claws; he felt Rika relax as he did, the hue of his eyes lightening.

'He has agreed. Aiur needs all the help we can bring,' said Rika, clasping together his hands.

'And Tassadar?' said Zeratul.

'He says we move on your order.'

Zeratul glanced away from his company, trying to hide the inevitable shift of his eyes. Tassadar trusted him absolute; with his decisions, with his life. Zeratul knew he should be honoured, that he should be happy that another held such trust in him, and that, that other was Tassadar. But to be held in such highest regard was something he was still trying to get used to. But he could not deny the sense in this plan; they needed people; people they could trust.

'Set course for the colony,' said Zeratul. He felt himself settle and his eyes return to their normal hue.

Rika nodded. 'We shall arrive by the morning.'

'How do you lot even know what time it is on here?' gestured Raynor. 'I mean, we got clocks on the ol' girl. You got floatin' tables and shit here, but I ain't seen a clock.'

'Within the Khala, we know all,' said Rika, tilting back his head.

'Right,' said Raynor, holstering his pistol. 'Just lemme know if you need me and my boys in the morning.' He made to leave, but Zeratul stopped him.

'Wait.' He looked to Rika. 'Leave us. I will inform Tassadar of my decision.'

Rika glided back a step. 'I am sure you will,' he said slowly, turned and left.

Zeratul grew uneasy at the feeling the emanated from his words; but he made sure Rika could not tell. He turned back to Raynor who had one leg to the floor, waiting for Zeratul to speak.

'Well?' said the terran, seemingly eager to leave.

'It is about Kerrigan,' began Zeratul, keeping his voice low.

'Ain't it always,' said Raynor, leaning forward on the table.

'Your desire is to kill her, is it not?'

Raynor scratched his head as Zeratul waited. He would wait as long as was needed; he could feel the turmoil within his friend and the pain that consumed him, on the battlefield and off. Kerrigan was his love; and although she lived, she was gone.

At last, Raynor spoke. 'I always told her I'd do all I could to save her - and I ain't never going back on that word. But if she keeps goin' the way she's goin'...'

'There is much we have to decide; many steps we have to take on the different paths that lay before us… but within me… I cannot shake a feeling that Kerrigan must live.'

Raynor smirked and set a hand on Zeratul's arm. 'Thanks for the support buddy, but if we get the chance, you know your protoss brothers ain't gonna pass it up.

Zeratul nodded, closing his eyes. It had been days since he had meditated, and he was suffering. 'My instinct has rarely failed me, Raynor, but my mind weighs heavy, my soul, my body too. We have nothing to do but to wait now; we should take this time to rest, my friend.'

Raynor patted Zeratul's hand and pocketed his hip flask before sliding off the suspended stool. 'At last you're talkin' some sense, buddy.' Raynor began to walk away. 'Night, Zeratul. Or whatever time it is,' he said with a wave as he left.

Zeratul glanced around the room, surveying his kin. The high templars either ignored him, or stared at him with disdain, their eyes almost turning black with mistrust. Most of Tassadar's crew had tried to accept the dark energies of their former executor, but to accept the Nerazim back with open arms back to Aiur? Over a thousand years of hatred, of exile were being pushed aside over a matter of there was no other way; they had to unite.

He left the common room and headed for his temporary quarters to meditate, all the while listening for Tassadar's call.