Part 2 Chapter 15: Paradigm Shift

2481 C.E.
OUTSKIRTS OF SAVASSILAR
SEI'TARA HOMEWORLD

Paskirov, Carla and Chester stood still in the middle of the circle of guards – huge figures of twisted air – while Xentus walked closer. He raised his hand from under his black robes and Carla interpreted for the other two.
'We are to follow him.'
'Not much choice, let's go,' Boris said.
'What happens to the rest of the fleet?' Chester asked as he made his first uneasy steps towards Savassilar.
'No idea, bud. We hope for the best.'
The three survivors walked in the dusk through the open rocks and onto a road that led to the Protoss city. The three Terran captives – Boris, Carla, and Chester, in their best uniforms, were heading to unknown places under enemy vigil. The aliens around them were moving with cruel precision, and although he could not discern their exact number, Chester knew that he was at their mercy.
Savassilar was a strange-looking city of dark buildings with a huge golden pyramidal structure far away in the center. Most of the buildings had straight lines and were painted in blue and green hues, but some seemed to have golden walls or even wings. Their almost windowless shapes were often broken up and strange lamps placed on them illuminated the streets between them with bright blue light. Occasionally, a larger golden edifice with rose above the dark houses and the labyrinthine streets, its bright, clean walls contrasting to the shadowy clumps. There were almost no Protoss in the open, Chester noticed while walking through what appeared to be a twisting boulevard between larger and better maintained city buildings in the proximity of the pyramid. Unsure where everybody was, he looked one last time up at the enormous pyramid they were close to. A vast staircase on one of its sides led to a gateway of some sort in its front side. Its pinnacle was not golden, but a giant blue crystal placed on a platform that completed the perfectly smooth sides of the structure. From the four angles of the base of the pyramid rose four tall straight spires, each with four straight walls that closed in and made a sharp curve inwards, toward the pinnacle of the pyramid at their top. Each supported some sort of crystal that glowed in the same pale light like the big one in the middle. The center of the Protoss capital.
Zaraldis and Xentus left the three in front of a tall building and the humans were walked in by the guards. In a deserted, windowless room on the second floor, the Protoss tied their hands together and loosely around a metal pylon in the middle of the room.
'We are going to be executed later in the evening,' Carla tried to sound impersonal.
Then the guards left through the curtain that hung instead of a door.
'Oh, great, executed. Way a go, Boris,' Chester murmured.
'It wasn't my fault, how could I know that Zaraldis had known of all this. Or that he is too stupid to believe what he saw.'
'You bet too much on logic, admiral. And you lost,' Carla noted coldly.
'You aren't helping me, sergeant,' Boris replied in vexation. 'How about we think of a way to get out...'
He was interrupted by the cracking sound of two hard objects colliding and Chester moaning in pain.
'What the hell is going on there?' he asked, trying to look behind him in vain.
'That's for the wires... Doctor.' the ghost said with cold hostility.
'She hit me in the head!'
'Knock it off and start looking for something,' Paskirov scolded them. 'There's absolutely nothing except a rag on my third of the room.'
'I've got nothing either,' Chester concluded.
'Negative.'
'Damn, then...' Boris moved in his place. 'The ropes are too tight. They are so coarse I'm going to bleed soon.'
'Yea,' the scientist replied absent-mindedly.
'Did you see the first half of the pendant? Xentus had it. It was the thing we gave the separatists in return for the sphere. He must have destroyed them.'
'Mhm.'
'Such a waste of good genes. I mean, this is such a failure. We are a waste. A whole fleet thrown to the wind. Sorry about your people,' Paskirov shook his head. 'How did we end up here? A week ago we dominated them on the ground and now we're captives. It's a shame. It feels like I'm back with Anders on that wretched planet where they caught us the first time, remember? Man, that was bad. And I mean 'bad' as in 'attacked in Calbad street' in Tarsonis. Happened to a friend once... Never mind.'
Carla sighed.
'Thing is,' the admiral resumed, 'now it's even worse. Our boys up there are in grave danger and face being crushed badly. I mean, my boys. I'm the admiral and, blah, that makes the responsibility ever more burdensome. You know what? My uncle would be really, really disappointed with me if he saw me. If he were here...'
Chester tried to ignore Boris' train of thought but there was nothing meaningful left to do in the situation except to endure the admiral's boring tirade towards life and hope that Carla's nervous movements next to him were not the presage of some wave of violent anger that he would have to absorb.
As he himself was descending into bleak thoughts, muffled sounds of distant explosions began to be heard. Bangs were coming from somewhere and Chester could not identify the exact location.
'What was that?' Carla asked.
Paskirov turned more serious. 'Right, I don't know. Sounds like a battle, if you ask me.'
'Who's fighting?'
'Most probably our guys against the Protoss,' he concluded to her. 'I hope not, though, because the Protoss here could use us to threaten or blackmail our fleet. And if that would be the case, Chester, I hope you are ready to die.'
Chester felt his stomach twist in fear and he gulped in terror.
'That's what I thought,' Carla murmured.
The bangs were growing louder.

A FEW HOURS EARLIER
BATTLECRUISER “ANDRONIKOS”
UMOJAN EXPEDITIONARY FLEET
SEI'TARA HOMEWORLD
Vice-admiral Ferguson saw the lightnings and the destruction of the Aldrin from the bridge and Williams could hear him gasp.
'What the hell just happened?!' he uttered.
Nothing good, the ghost thought.
An operator was heard from the consoles a few meters 'Sir, we lost contact with dropship UA06.' It was the one down on the ground. 'Its signal just ceased.'
'What do you mean, Paskirov is down there!' Ferguson angrily replied. 'Damn, something has gone terribly wrong. Without the science vessel, they won't see any cloaked enemies.'
The officers were looking at him.
'Shall we open fire or send air forces?' one inquired.
'Negative. It's too risky. The targets are too small, plus, what if the enemies take our delegation as hostages? Operator, give me a visual from the scene,' the vice-admiral ordered.
One of the special cameras on the hull adjusted its focus on the location of the meeting and its recording was displayed on one of the screens in the bridge. The quality was bad, but the humans were discernible and the men aboard the battlecruiser saw their flight and imprisonment.
'What shall we do, sir?' Williams quickly asked.
'I haven't given you permission to speak, major,' the vice-admiral said, but then softened his tone. 'There is nothing meaningful we can do here. We should go back to the fleet and discuss everything with them. Maybe we could trade the Protoss commanders for our delegation.'
'We could send an extraction team down there,' the ghost suggested.
'Pointless. We have no idea where they are kept.'
'Sir, with all due respect, you are forgetting that there is a ghost down there. We can hear each other over distances.'
'Furthermore, I don't want more hostages. Negative, major. Who knows what you are walking straight in. This is the capital of the Protoss and we don't even have intelligence about it.'
'Sir...'
'Now, now, major, we cannot risk ruining what good relations we have left with the Sei'Tara. I am calling a brief video conference now. Don't worry, we will do everything we can. But you will stay safe.'
Williams had nothing to do but wait while the battlecruiser was heading upwards, back to the expeditionary fleet.
Ferguson told the rest of the high command about the latest developments, but while he was finishing his explanation, Summers, on the bridge of the huge Mammoth-class carrier, noticed that something was wrong with the Protoss ships. All six of them were moving towards the planet.
'Vice-admiral, excuse me, sir, but what is going on with the enemy ships?' he asked.
The meeting turned chaotic as the officers stepped back and walked to some of the windows on the bridges.
'They are moving away!'
'Who ordered that?'
'What's going on?'
Voices of confusion were heard away from the screens.
'Everybody return and report what's wrong up there!' Ferguson ordered.
'The carriers, sir. They are leaving the fleet,' Richardson answered.
'What the hell are you talking about?'
'Confirmed here, sir,' Arnold spoke. 'We have six enemy carriers inbound.'
'Arnold, get the enemy commanders and tell them to order their ships to stop. Now!' Ferguson wasted no time. 'Everybody else, prepare to open fire on them if they do not stop. I will be with you shortly.'
Things were really getting out of hand.
'Arnold, what is going on there?' the vice-admiral prompted the Graf von Moltke.
'Sir, none of the six Protoss commanders is responding. They are just kneeling there and aren't saying a word to our ghosts.'
Williams heard this and something was telling him that the captured commander's value as hostages was diminishing.
'Order them to hold their vessels or face execution,' Ferguson decided.
'Yes, sir,' the commodore confirmed.
Williams was growing worried, for reasons he could not think of.
'Sir, they are not responding,' Arnold spoke on the screen.
'Damn, are they decoys or something? The hell with this, threaten them with death. With the killing of a random one. That should work.'
The carriers were drifting further away.
'Vice-admiral, it's no use.' A pause. 'One of them is dead. They are refusing to cooperate.'
Ferguson was getting angry. 'Fine! All ships close in to the enemy ships and open fire. All batteries! Major Williams, be so kind as to tell whoever is in charge on those ships to get the hell back here.'
The ghost looked at him. 'I'll do my best, sir, but they are very far away.' Williams focused and urged them to return, but heard no answer. 'Sir, I'm afraid it doesn't work.'
'Then all men to battle stations and let's get them.'
The expeditionary fleet raced towards the escaping Protoss carriers. They moved at full speed, but the enemies were faster. The fire from the fleet caused no tangible harm to the alien ships. Having no other choice, the Umojans followed them through the planet's atmosphere up until the region around Savassilar. There, to the Terrans' surprise, two other carriers had joined the six escapees.
'Alright, everybody, it's show time... Wait, major, do you mind offering them an exchange, their surviving captains for our three VIP's first?' Ferguson's readiness for battle was showing through his haughty demeanor.
'Nothing there, vice-admiral,' Williams said impersonally. 'May I again suggest extraction procedures? Given that the battle will give a spec-ops unit additional cover?'
The Umojan commander reflected on the suggestion for two seconds then agreed. 'Go ahead, major, I authorize you to execute the operation if you wish so much. We don't need you for the fighting anyway.'
'Thank you, sir,' Williams smiled. 'I'll be back with our friends.'
'I'm sure you will... Alright, everybody, let's show them who's boss,' Ferguson walked back the bridge. 'Fire the EMP's.'
Without wasting time, the Terrans entered the battlefield and engaged the enemies. Sacrificing order for speed, Ferguson led the ships towards the enemy ignoring any tactical considerations. The fleet bathed the shieldless carriers with lasers and after another EMP salvo he sent the fighters to engage the enemy's left flank while the big ships were busy with the Protoss right. Then, the Protoss managed to fly out their own smaller ships and had cut the distance enough so that the interceptors posed a danger for the Terrans. The two fleets were caught in the fight.
In the meantime, Williams had assembled his special squad of three more ghosts – Dallas, Ling, and Carlos. Well-armed with all things useful for urban warfare, they waited in the red-lighted cargo hold of the dropship that was taking them away from the fleet and towards the hostile settlement. Insignificant in the raging battle, the little vessel sneaked past the bigger ships and headed to the thin woods near Savassilar with its dangerous load. As the battle was raging, and the Umojan ships were maneuvering in unknown ways, a small Protoss shuttle flew nearby.
Twenty minutes later, the dropship had landed in the open between some rocks and the ghosts checked their gear for the last time.
'Sir, where are the VIP's?' Dallas asked.
'That we will find out eventually. Sergeant Ravros is one of the captured and she's a ghost,' Williams replied.
'Shouldn't we call her now?'
The major took a second before answering. 'No, we will get closer to the settlement first and then I will contact them.'
'As you say.'
***
Summers was standing on the bridge of the Graf von Moltke, keeping away from the main routes of the moving officers and spending his time looking outside the window at the flashes amidst the many ships of various types, sizes and origin flying around each other and chaotic laser beams. He instinctively ducked when a Protoss fighter suddenly appeared from the rear side of the battlecruiser's bridge – the bridge had no windows to the back – and almost hit the glass with its golden wings. As the colonel was standing up, he heard one of the adjutants report to Ferguson.
'Sir, the Wanderer-class vessel the Hussar is reporting heavy damage! They do not know where it is coming from or what is causing it. Look at their sensors!'
'My god, they are getting fried,' the former vice admiral said and ran to the window. 'Mother mercy.'
Summers hurried to the other side and saw the Hussar, on the human fleet's rightmost position, covered in lightnings. It was as if the power grid of the ship had gone mad and was devouring the whole thing into angry lightning fury. Except that the lightnings seemed to also appear from the air, and had a blue hue. Summers heard a quiet buzz.
'It's like the bloody Aldrin!' one officer remarked.
As he said that, the Hussar burst into flames and disintegrated into a fiery surge of energy. Five seconds later, the sound wave from the explosion hit the hull of the Graf von Moltke and the boom echoed on the bridge, making everybody hold their hands to their ears.
'What the hell caused that?' Arnold tried to find out what happened. Ships didn't just blow up.
'No idea, sir,' the operator at whom he was staring replied in fear.
Outside, the battle was raging. The Protoss, according to the tactical map, seemed to exploit the sudden advantage and pushed harder against the Terrans' right flank. Summers thought about the small chance that out of a sudden the same energy surge would occur on the Andronikos or the Graf, electrocuting everybody on the bridge and melting it down a bit before the vessel exploded.
On the bridge of the Andronikos, a cruel, chilling voice in his head drew the attention of one of the ordinary ghosts.
'Cease fire, humans, and surrender. Then, we may spare your lives.'
'Sir!' the ghost ran to the vice-admiral.
'What is it, soldier?'
'The Protoss! I don't know where it came from, but a voice wanted us to cease fire and surrender. I heard it clearly, I'm sure.'
Ferguson was analyzing. 'Cease fire and surrender... Makes sense. Or we could get another of these explosions... Very well. We are ceasing fire.'
The human batteries unwillingly stopped firing, to which the Protoss responded the same way. Some nervous minutes later, Ferguson asked the ghost, 'What did he say about surrender?'
'Whoever the Protoss was, the orders were to cease fire and surrender,' the troop answered.
'Hmm... Okay. We aren't firing. What was the second thing, again? I forgot.'
'To sur...' he began, but stopped because Ferguson held his index finger to his mouth, almost touching it.
'Not quite, my friend,' the vice-admiral looked at him with eyes wide open. 'Let's wait. They don't seem to mind that.'
***
In the empty room in Savassilar, the three captives heard the noise stop.
'What now?' the ghost asked.
'Why do you keep asking me, I have no idea what's happening out there either. I'm a tactician, not an oracle,' Boris replied. 'I can only hope it's good. Although... What I can tell for sure is that nobody has been conventionally defeated. If either side were, then the explosions would take more time to abate. Something serious has happened out there and it most likely was unexpected. To make the belligerents stop.'
'Like what?' Chester said.
'I don't know – anything!'
'Not much we can do,' Carla said.
The three were standing in the silence. The Umojan was thinking. How could they free themselves? How could three pairs of hands find themselves on the other side of the rope that was keeping them tied to the pillar?
'Boris! I have an idea!'
'What is it?' Paskirov tried to twist so as to hear him better.
'You have that golden eagle on your service hat, right?'
'The cap badge?' he asked.
'Yes. On its front side?'
'Yea, above the visor. What about it?'
'I was thinking, if we could cut the ropes with it. I mean, it is the only metal thing we can use...' Chester tried to be mellow as Boris had yet earned no honors in his several years in the military. 'If you can make it fall between our backs somewhere, we could try to take it off.'
'Right, I see. Alright, then, I hope it works,' Paskirov replied and twisted his head back. 'Give me a hand, er... Head, will you?'
He pushed his hat off against them and it fell down on the rope. The Umojan turned it and, mustering all his agility, began trying to detach the eagle badge from the band. The heraldic wings had point feathers and he tried holding to their edges, which conveniently stuck out, but the badge refused to yield.
'Maybe you should let me do it,' Carla said.
Chester stopped twisting. 'Well, if you think you can.'
Some more movement happened behind Boris when the ghost took her chance with the badge. After some minutes of energetic efforts, she stopped.
'Got it. The nails were useful.'
'Alright, now try to cut the rope,' Boris said, trying not to sound officious.
The noise of the eagle's feathers scratching against the rope was heard until Boris suddenly felt the tension around his hands loosen and the rope began unwinding.
The three stood up, moving their hands, now free from the fetters.
'Phew, it worked,' the Umojan sighed.
'Where do we go now, amdiral?' Carla asked.
'Somewhere away from this settlement, that for sure. Probably to the dropship, where we can get the radio. If the Protoss had not done anything to either,' Paskirov replied. 'Most importantly, as further from the Protoss as possible.'
He picked his hat and put the eagle in his pocket. The three walked to the curtains that hung instead of a door and he carefully peeked from behind them in the corridor. It was clear.
'Come on!'
They rapidly moved to its end, reaching the wide stairs and avoiding the blue walls or any of the lamps on them. They descended the round staircase but, to their surprise there was someone in the corridor in the lower level. It was a robed Protoss carrying scrolls. The alien could only throw a momentary glance at them before Carla jumped at him and thrust her boot in his the plate of his face. The old Protoss fell on the ground unconscious – his purple eyes were barely visible.
'What's with the scrolls...' Chester murmured, but could not contemplate on it for long because the other two moved on.
The group quickly got to the exit of the building and rushed out on the street.
'Everybody be careful now,' Paskirov whispered. 'Stay low and walk close to the walls to avoid detection.'
'Okay, but which way?' the Umojan asked.
'That way,' the admiral pointed away from the enormous golden pyramid several hundred meters away that rose majestically above the chaos of ordinary buildings.
'There!' Carla hissed, pointing at a Protoss figure in the distance, coming from the direction of the pyramid to them.
The three hurried to the darkness between two nearby buildings and headed away from Savassilar's heart through the back streets. They sneaked with utmost silence, wary not to make a sound in the night.
***
Far away from them, the rescue team was moving through the strange low structures in what could be called the suburbs of Savassilar. Taking every possible cover and keeping to the shadows and the bigger objects, like trees or defunct Protoss machinery here and there, they proceeded deeper and deeper into the alien settlement, keeping as hidden from curious eyes as possible. For some mysterious reason the battle had paused and this was the cause of concern in Williams. And meant that the squad no longer had the advantage of the noisy battle drawing the attention away from the streets of Savassilar.
At one point, Williams halted the group. The four armed ghosts were in the shadows of a narrow street between two taller buildings. He waved at them to watch for any enemies and then focused. It was about time.
'Carla. It's Michael. Remember the prison. Where are you?' he thought to whoever could hear in the distance, hoping that the three would figure out what the ghosts were here for.
***
'It's him!' Carla suddenly said, drawing Boris' and Chester's attention.
'Who?' the admiral asked, keeping close to the bluish wall and trying to sound as quiet as possible.
'Major Williams. He's here, with some troops, I guess, to get us out.'
Boris felt a bit relieved. He knew that the fleet wouldn't forget them. Whatever happened to the fleet. 'That's very kind of them. Where is he?'
Carla focused for a few seconds and then replied, 'He says we should go in the direction of our fleet. I told him that we do not yet know where exactly we're located.'
'Hey, can the Protoss hear you two conversing telepathically?' Chester suddenly asked.
Boris looked at him worriedly. 'They might as well can... Alright, guys, let's not waste time here. We'll find an elevation to see where the fleets are and then we'll tell them. Let's go.'
The group kept sneaking through the disorder of the Dark Templar settlement.
Finally, at one point the chaotic maze seemed to end on the slopes of a small hill. Coming up behind the empty dark buildings, the three looked around. Beneath the starry sky, there was Savassilar. The dense multitude of houses provided the background for the several bigger, golden Protoss structures whose bright curved walls proudly contrasted the murkiness around them. The pyramid, of course, rose higher than all, like the resplendent palace from where a cruel tyrant cruelly ruled over his subjects.
Left of the whole city there were lights in the sky several kilometers away. Boris' heart jumped when he began recognizing the shapes of the battlecruisers among the shiny Protoss vessels and the less attractive Terran ones. He tried to focus – all three battlecruisers seemed to be there. But, it could have been a game of lights among the various ships.
'There's the fleets, guys,' Boris began. 'Now, where are we located...'
'No compass,' Carla murmured.
'No need, they can see the pyramid, that's enough. So, if we imagine that the pyramid is north of us, then the azimuth of the ships over there is two hundred twenty-five degrees... In the hypothetical southwest,' Chester thought.
Boris raised an eyebrow. 'We are on a hill, around us there are three of the really lovely golden things and the pyramid and the fleet make an obtuse angle with the vertex where we are. And we're going towards the fleet and the pyramid will be right of and behind us. How's that?'
The scientist shrugged. 'Sure, fine.'
After a brief contemplation, she spoke to Boris. 'They are coming to our hill here.'
'Alright,' he smiled, 'let's find cover and wait, then.'
The three walked down, scanning the buildings for any spot hidden enough for them to be protected from enemy eyes.
As they were moving towards the side of one house, Boris spotted movement in the street further away. Several figures were swiftly moving towards the hill, a few shadows crossing the darkness of the labyrinth around them.
'Protoss!' he whispered.
'Damn! Where to now?' the ghost asked.
'Away from here,' the admiral replied and turned backwards. 'Let's go!'
The three ran as fast as they could from their intended hiding place and to the other side of the hill. As they came out of the buildings, they almost collided with a Protoss. Without hesitation Carla stunned the grey alien and broke its neck. At the other end of the square, Boris looked behind and saw the group of enemies above the body of her victim. The sight of Xentus and Zaraldis accompanied by five bodyguards fed his dread and he found himself running as fast as possible away from them. He stopped when the three had entered the rows of colonnades around one of the golden structures. Its curved forms went over its body, making it look like a pointy shell, and two pillars situated at its rear raised wide plates towards the night sky. The three went around it, trying to keep away from the guards and to possibly find an entrance. At its back side, between the pillars, the curved wall held a runed archway on which a heavy blue curtain was hung to cover the entrance.
Not taking more chances, the three rushed in, calmed the curtain until it was still so that it would not betray their movement, and proceeded in the interior of the building. Under the wavy ceiling there was one great hall like the lobby of a big government building in Tarsonis. Spacious as it was, it housed tens of ornate bookshelves. Under the blue light of glowing crystals from the frugal chandeliers Boris saw the countless scrolls and plates placed on them.
'Is this a library?' Chester uttered.
'No idea... Seems like this is where they keep their scrolls. We're lucky it's empty. We should find somewhere to hide,' Paskirov replied.
The three moved in the central way between the two rows of shelves towards the interior of the archive building. Thirty meters later, the rows were over and the empty remaining part of the hall ended against a wall decorated with tapestries. In the middle of the stony floor there stood a strange engraving exactly counterposed to its mirror image on the ceiling.
Suddenly, Chester's hand took Boris out of his bewilderment and pulled him behind the last shelf.
'They're there!' the scientist whispered.
'What?'
'They just entered.'
Couldn't these damned Protoss just quit? 'The door,' Boris pointed at a small curtain on the nearby wall. 'Moving on.'
The three sneaked through the door, relatively small for a Protoss, and found themselves out in the open again.
'We need a better hiding place. Now!' Carla hissed.
'Those buildings,' Paskirov pointed at a cluster of structures with very few windows fifty meters away. 'We're getting in, whatever's inside.'
Less than a minute later, they were in through the curtain at the round entrance. The interior of the building was very dark and it took Boris some time to get used to the blackness. He walked in, followed by Carla and Chester, and looked at the inside of the vast hall.
They were in a storehouse. Around them there were multiple pieces of Protoss machinery. Golden robotic artifacts and various crystals were placed against the walls, some covered under dark mantles. The humans stepped forward, looking at a suitable place to hide until Williams' squad arrived. Boris wondered how intrigued the Umojans would be when they saw the heavy golden parts, and the massive disk-shaped objects, several meters in diameter, with panels sticking out and many lens, and the...
Jeep?
'What the...' he murmured.
Chester gasped. 'Is that a Confederate jeep?'
'It looks like...' Carla replied quietly.
They walked closer to it. The machine had a punctured front tyre and a missing windshield, but the Confederate flag was still on the hood, with the numbers 523 over it.
'Could have taken it from that old wrecked refinery colony,' the scientist shared.
'Oh, there's the dropship,' Carla said, drawing Boris' attention to an Umojan dropship – their own – whose black paint made it almost invisible in the dark hall. 'They got it, too.'
'Is the radio working? Wait, too late, perhaps,' he said.
'We could still use the supplies in it,' she suggested.
'Yes, come!' Boris hurried to behind the dropship, where the emergency lever for opening the big doors were. 'I think that there are pistols in the thing, we keep them there just in case. Come, guys, this will be noisy if we let it fall on the ground.'
They carefully opened the door and Boris jumped in, only to come out a minute later with a disappointed expression.
'They're gone. All the gear is gone. Taken out. Everything they could remove without pulling too hard.'
'What are we going to do now? Is the radio working? We could contact the major and tell them where we are.' Carla asked.
'Let me see.' Chester went in and returned. 'Nope. Out of order. I could try to fix it, but it would take me a whole day.'
'They will find us before that,' Boris said. 'Does the dropship have any sorts of compartments that are big enough and concealed enough for us to hide in?'
'No. We could hide under those covers and pretend to be a machine...' Chester suggested.
'That's stupid. We will move too much,' Carla argued. 'And, besides, they are likely to uncover everything once they get in.'
'We need something that will repel them for long enough until Williams comes,' Boris said. 'Something that will keep them at bay and give us time.'
'Barricade the exits?' she asked.
'One thing,' he nodded. 'Doctor, perhaps your brilliant mind can think of something that can fulfill our purpose?'
The Umojan looked at them. 'Okay... I'll see what I can do.'
'Right. There's a museum worth of machinery here, you should be fine.'
'I...'
'Keep aliens away, alright?' Boris reminded him.
'Yes...'
'Do it quick,' Carla hissed at him.
'Sure... Thing is, I might need your help later on, though.'
'No problem,' Boris replied.
The admiral and the ghost walked to the machines and began piling up parts just behind the curtain, in order to surprise and obstruct the way of any Protoss who decided to enter. While they were similarly barricading the other exits, Chester was putting together things. Strange things. He had taken the wheel of the still working jeep off and had found some seemingly useless things, like a wide pipe and a long belt. With their help, he quickly took off some of the side panels of the dropship and took out the spherical metal container for some of the sensitive sensors, then stuck something inside of it and placed it above the pipe with a wheel and a belt inside.
'This better be good,' Carla coldly said.
'Just a few more things and it's done,' Chester replied. 'It will basically electrocute anything that draws near the metal sphere.'
'Great. How is that connected to keeping them away, genius?' she was not amused.
The scientist scratched his head. 'Well, if you draw them to it, it will shock them. Badly. It will stun them. What, you have better ideas?'
'Alright, it's good,' Boris intervened and stepped away from the sphere, which stood on improvised legs in the middle of the way. Suddenly, his right foot hit something and a small metal object clanked on the stone floor. 'Ops.'
'I better finish it up,' Chester quickly said and returned to work.
Carla hurried away to the middle of the hall.
Boris was trying to find what to do, when he heard her say aloud, 'Admiral, they're here.'
'Almost done' Chester said from behind his contraption as he started the jeep.
Boris saw the barricades at the entrance they had come through move. The Protoss were pushing them aside. Carla had assumed battle stance, waiting for the first one to come. He looked around, trying to figure out how to help, then ran behind a pile of scrap near the entrance. The last big piece of junk at the door fell aside and the enemies rushed in the room.
Boris pushed the top of the pile towards the door with all his strength. Golden machine parts rolled down towards the Protoss, creating confusion among them.
'Chester! Are you done already?' he shouted while Carla was fighting off one of the Dark Templar.
'Yes! I'm turning it off! Come behind it!'
Boris prepared to retreat, but Carla was too busy with the enemies. He needed to distract them.
He ran twenty meters back to the dropship behind the jeep and rushed inside, then took out the fire extinguisher and ran back, keeping away from the metal ball. She was desperately fighting back when Paskirov unleashed the cold foam against the three Dark Templar that had clustered between two of the stored machines.
'Fall back, sergeant!' he yelled and the two ran back to the Umojan.
'Careful!' he warned them when they got close to the sphere. They walked as far as possible past it and when they were on the other side Chester started the jeep's engine. The wheels of the machine started turning and another wheel connected to the vehicle's front axis followed. It was situated, Boris saw, just under the lower end of the pipe, and there was a belt attached to it that followed.
'Where is Williams...' he nervously uttered.
'Calling him,' Carla said and focused.
The five Dark Templar were slowly approaching the humans.
'Hey, bud, what's about to happen?' Paskirov was uneasy.
'Step back! They're in for a surprise!'
'On their way, admiral,' she informed him and took a few steps away from the Protoss and the round metal ball. He could see the threat in their glowing purple eyes and the black figure of Xentus stepping behind them.
***
Not far from there, Williams had heard the call and was leading the three other men through the streets at maximum speed. They were like the wind, only stopping to take down a sudden Protoss guard with a headshot or to prepare their grappling hooks for an ascent to a roof. They ran on the tops of the buildings, jumping from one to another on their way to the archives and the storehouse.
***
Chester had left the engine running and had joined his friends. The three Protoss were approaching. They drew closer and closer to the strange silvery sphere with their psi blades opened. Boris could see their different, dark purple clothes and their unusual double blades that slightly diverged from the axis of their forearms to form a V.
Suddenly, a loud crack was heard and lightning leaped from the sphere to the closest one. The Protoss fell back from the shock and his blades disappeared while a few small sparks ran through his chest. Then, the two others were struck by the voltage of Chester's contraption and fell helpless on the ground unconscious under the bright lightnings that jumped onto them.
'Right. No point in staying here any more – let's make a run for it! Mike will find us.' Paskirov whispered as if afraid that Xentus, Zaraldis, and the two other Dark Templar could hear them.
The three ran between the other piles of garbage and hurried out of the building through its other exit. On the street, however, there were two guards, looking away.
'Damn!' the sound barely came out of Carla's lips.
Inside the building, the noise of thunder and destruction was heard. The three used it and sneaked to the other side of the building, unnoticed. Carla grabbed her head.
'What is it?' Boris asked.
'That damned Xentus is irritating me. Threats. Let's go.'
The group proceeded away from the storehouse, when they saw a Dark Templar moving in the distance. Boris pulled them behind the nearby corner.
'You can't fight,' he told Carla. 'Tell Williams we're here and let him know that I order him to get his ass here!'
'Done,' she replied after a few seconds.
'Where is he, anyway?'
'There somewhere,' she pointed in the direction of the archive building.
'Good. We're going that way,' Boris concluded and stood up.
They were next to the close golden edifice when Paskirov saw Xentus and his entourage come out of the storehouse and in their direction.
Aren't they ever going to quit? 'Move in! Tell Mike we're looking for cover in this building.'
'Yes, sir,' Carla said tiredly and closed her eyes as she slowly walked in.
They were moving through the many bookshelves, looking for a place to find cover when the Carla suddenly held her head in one hand and pointed in the direction of the open space deeper into the archives.
'They're there.'
'Okay, moving to a different cover,' Boris said quickly and pulled the two to the wall, away from the main aisle and then back to the door.
At the door, however, stood one of the elite, purple-clad Dark Templar.
Chester gulped. 'Maybe we should pull back...'
They found themselves slowly retreating towards the core of the building while the huge digitigrade alien menacingly kept stepping forward under the dim lights on the ceiling that covered the whole place in blue. Once he had cut off their way, the warrior stopped between the last two golden shelves. Boris turned around and on the other side of the strange seal saw the fiery eyes of Xentus and thought to himself what sinister end the cunning chieftain had in store for him tonight. Behind Xentus was the humbled Zaraldis, in a more colorful military uniform that contrasted with his master's black, who was observing the situation. Next to Zaraldis was the other Dark Templar with purple robes and decorated pieces of armor on several parts of his body. Against them was a tired human with officer's education and no weaponry, another tired human with abundant skills in science and lack of will to fight, and a third human of unknown origin or skills but a disdain for the whole race of the high aliens.
'He wants a fight, eh?' Carla habitually informed her commander as she stepped forward. 'Alright.'
Xentus, too, assumed a more predatory stance and leaned forward as he walked onto the seal. He seemed to Paskirov like a compressed spring ready to release its malice and anger straight out of the black clothes and onto who- or whatever stood against him. The Protoss' searing purple eyes were focused on her.
Carla made the first move and jumped towards Xentus in an attempt to kick him off balance, but he twisted aside and with the inertia of the turn kicked her to the wall. Carla fell on her legs, but was struggling to breathe. She stood up with difficulty and crept against Xentus, both halfway between their friends.
The Protoss jumped forward... But stopped shortly after, triggering her reactions. He jerked like that a few more times, provoking Carla to attack, but in vain. Then, out of nothing, Xentus' huge nails on his four-fingered hand flew straight towards the ghost's chest. Carla's reflexes, however, were still sharp, and she diverted his strike and moved past the outer side of his extended hand to deliver a kick in his abdomen. The chieftain stepped back under the sudden blow and a bit of hope made the whole scene a bit brighter for Boris. Carla wasted no time and quickly resumed the attack, fist towards the enemy's head. All eyes in the hall were focused on the duel between the woman and the Protoss. However, the fatigue and Xentus' surprising reactions precluded that blow and he grabbed her arm and threw her aside against one of the shelves. With a thump her body jumped off it and fell next to the golden wall in the distance.
Then, a crack was heard from somewhere and something grey sprayed behind Boris, soaking the back of his uniform. He turned instinctively and saw the now headless body of the Protoss warrior collapse on the smooth stones. At the door, there was Williams with another ghost, apparently having taken down the guard with a headshot. The fear suddenly left Paskirov when Williams and the other ghost ran forwards, aiming at Zaraldis and the elite Dark Templar who stood in the middle of their wall. The ghosts fired their C-10 rifles, but the two Protoss were faster and the warrior had already pushed Zaraldis out of the line of fire when the bullets crashed against the golden walls.
'Come!' Boris ordered Chester and quickly reached Carla. 'Is the pulse fine and everything?'
The Umojan kneeled over the semiconscious ghost and began checking her vital signs. Boris looked at the relatively narrow way between the shelves and the wall and saw a third ghost cross it on his way towards them. He better had first aid, or else...
A loud sound, halfway between a sonic blast and the buzzing of electricity, was heard a few meters away from them and Boris looked aside. A surge of energy had sprung out of Xentus' hands and had hit the fourth ghost that had arrived from the opposite side aisle. The force of Xentus' ability hit the soldier against the curved wall like a hammer against an anvil and the ghost dropped his rifle and fell on the ground.
The ghost two meters from Boris had ducked and aimed his rifle at the Protoss. Out of nowhere the air itself in front of the ghost seemed to burst into blue energy and the stunned man was nailed to the wall by the sheer pressure. Boris himself was almost pushed aside, but struggled not to yield to the blast while the ghost collapsed on the ground.
'Die!' Williams' voice, filled with hate, echoed from behind the nearby shelves and something flew into Xentus' left shoulder as the chieftain was raising his hands for another psi blast. He stepped back behind the furthest shelf and is head twisted in agony as he grabbed a black handle that was sticking out of his shoulder. With a sudden agonizing movement Xentus took out Williams' commando knife, covered in grey blood with some pink strips. The knife fell on the stony floor from the Protoss' open hand and Boris, still leaning over Carla, met Xentus' eyes, which were now so bright that it seemed that they were flames of candles.
'Go, go, go!' Paskirov told Chester and grabbed Carla's shoulders to move her in the aisle and behind the shelf. There was no sight of Zaraldis or the armored Dark Templar. Things were grim. Boris evaluated his chances and concluded that the status was somewhere beneath bad. The Terrans seemed out of the game. He felt like he could not let things end like this, at least with him not giving up a fight.
Xentus, however, had no time for them. Williams had just jumped into the open and had directed his C-10 at random against the Protoss. The chieftain quickly attempted to push the weapon aside, but Williams pressed the trigger too quick and a bullet tore through Xentus' right leg, spraying grey-and-pink drops on the floor behind.
Boris took the opportunity. He hurried between the last two shelves in his row. The admiral quickly and quietly sneaked to the neighboring row on the other side of the room. He would sneak behind the Protoss. It seemed stupid for a second, but there was no other plan available and service had taught Boris of the importance of speed.
'Bleed, you scum!' Williams shouted while thrusting a powerful kick straight into the alien's chest. His teammate, Dallas then jumped onto the side of the seal, next to the major, and ducked to aim the weapon at Xentus. However, the bleeding Protoss was again faster and sent a fierce psionic blast at the two. Williams was suddenly thrown back to the edge of the shelf and his back and his skull absorbed the impact. He fell on the ground where the wide way from the front door ended between the two rows. The other ghost flew back and slid on his back on the rocks until the wall not far from Chester stopped him.
Boris was at the other side of the hall now, preparing to make his move. Knock him... Stupid. With what? He had no metal object that at least looked like a club. For a second he stared at the bookshelf against him, when the realized that there were stone plaques on it. Next to the scrolls. Some of them were rather heavy and bulky.
He grabbed one and took a deep breath. He peeked from behind the corner of the last shelf and saw the lamed Xentus creeping towards Williams' unconscious body. The chieftain was holding to the golden rafts with his available right hand.
Now was the time. Paskirov ran towards the alien with the rock high in the air, but saw that Xentus was too big and threw it at Xentus' head.
The plaque hit him and he tripped next to Williams. Boris saw the ghost's C-10 lying on the ground nearby and grabbed it. He lifted the heavy rifle and stepped next to the dizzy Protoss keeping it aimed at his head.
A second later, the buzz of psi blades was heard behind Boris. Zaraldis and the elite warrior were a few meters away. He looked down at Xentus again, while stepping to his other side, away from the two and from the seal and next to Williams. The chieftain had turned and looked into the admiral's eyes with regret, then looked at his servants, then at the admiral again. You will die if you strike, the Protoss was telling him from the ground.
Paskirov kneeled, carefully pointing the muzzle at Xentus. With his left hand he reached for Williams' pistol, hoping it would be loaded. One round was enough. The executor and his armored companion took a step closer. Boris touched the steel and took the pistol out.
Immediately, the rifle fell on the ground with a clatter and a brief moment later the pistol was aimed at his temple. At Xentus' temple.
Boris was holding the weapon with his right hand and had secured a tight grip of Xentus' throat and head with his left. The Sei'Tara leader had his head locked against Boris' chest with a pistol against it. It was a good idea that had occurred to him at the right time.
'Don't make a move,' Paskirov said aloud, 'or your leader gets it.'
Xentus made some small movements within the admiral's grasp and the two stopped.
'Chester, how is she?' he shouted.
'Better. Sort of conscious,' the Umojan was heard.
'It's time to get out of here. Get her up and get Williams up. We're leaving.'
'Yea.'
Boris was now half-upright, holding his hostage against his thigh, when he heard a scream. Carla rushed to the major who was lying on the ground.
'Sergeant, pick him up and let's get out of here,' he ordered.
'Y-y-yes, sir,' she stuttered.
'Boris, wow,' Chester felt awe, seeing Xentus' position.
'Right. Long story. Pick him up and move out! Carla, you tell these guys that if they don't do what I say, the boss-man will die.'
The four Terrans now retreated to the door of the archives. Zaraldis and the Dark Templar were following from a distance of several meters. Carla and Chester were holding Williams by the shoulders.
The group walked out in the open and breathed the fresh air. Around them, however, there were twenty to thirty Protoss warriors in dark violet and purple in a huge circle. They were watching the Terrans at the gates to the archives building.
'You missed the show...' Boris murmured and hauled Xentus another few meters before figuring out where they had to walk to next.
All of a sudden, Xentus right hand grabbed Boris' right hand and pushed it aside while the Protoss himself twisted away from his grip. The admiral could not restrain the alien's force and found himself pinned to the ground with Xentus' cold analogue of face above him. The sound of many psi blades emerging echoed in the distance. Boris could felt terror beginning to consume him. The chieftain's glowing bright purple eyes looked at the admiral with contempt and a grey four-fingered hand wrapped in black cloth, with huge, if not particularly sharp claws, was raised above Paskirov's head. He took a breath, realizing how strange the hand actually was, with two thumbs on both sides of the wrist. Strange and deadly.
Somewhere away Carla screamed 'Nooo' and Chester shouted 'Boris!' But in vain. This was the end. A glimpse of the consequences of his failure and the disappointment in his family with that, among other things, ran through his head. He closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable.
Then, something heavy hit Xentus and lifted the burden of the Protoss from his chest. He blinked and looked around, all sweaty, to see what was happening. Zaraldis had leaped on the chieftain and was now struggling with him. Xentus was pushed to the ground and was fiercely trying to fight back his servant's sudden hostility. None of the Dark Templar warriors was moving. The elite one was also just standing there, looking coldly at the mortal struggle between Zaraldis and his master.
Strong as he were, Xentus was weakened now. He could not repel all the blows and soon broke and with a final swing the executor stuck his claws through the throat all the way to the cold stone beneath them. In a bright blue wispy flame, Xentus' body burned away.
It took Boris some time to comprehend what had happened during which he just lay there under the starry sky. Around him there was movement. Carla and Chester appeared and smiled.
'What did I just see?' Paskirov uttered.
'The executor attacked the chieftain and killed him,' the scientist almost laughed.
'Zaraldis realized Xentus' real games tonight. First the fleets, then the blood,' Carla began.
'What about the fleets and the blood? What blood?' the admiral was breathing heavily but felt lighter with every second.
'Well, commander, Xentus had taken his loyal friend here to the engagement. Between our fleet and theirs. Then, Xentus had cast a psi storm against one of our Wanderer-class vessels and destroyed it. Just like he destroyed the Aldrin hours earlier.'
'We've... Lost a ship...' Paskirov looked at the ground in sadness.
'Yep, we did,' Chester said quietly.
'After that, Xentus had to leave the battlefield because he received news of our escape. So, they left to look for us. Xentus had decided to punish us personally while the fleets were standing still. So, they went looking for us. The professor's crazy thing...'
'A Van De Graaf generator,' Chester interrupted her to her slight annoyance.
'...had frightened them at first, but another psi blast in that storehouse did the trick. When we were in the templar archives, we... Michael...' she paused. 'Managed to wound Xentus, and Zaraldis saw his blood. It was not normal Protoss blood, you see, its traces of another organic presence were visible.'
'Right, the pink...' Boris made the connection. 'Zerg?'
'Most likely,' Carla continued. 'That convinced him. Him and Avissian.'
'Who's Avissian?'
'The armored warrior next to Zaraldis, he's the commander of their praetorians, the elite guard of the tribe. So I was told,' Carla shrugged. 'Zaraldis had told Avissian about the exchange earlier in the evening and the warrior already had his reservations when the fighting started. The two were cloaked. When Xentus bled, it became clear. However, they feared his power and were deeply grieved by their leader's betrayal. So, they appeared when you were done with him. When Mr. X escaped you, the two thought all was lost, but Zaraldis was so furious that he quickly intervened and managed to kill the treacherous swine. Funny, Xentus was calling for help from the praetorians most of the time, but Avissian had forbidden them. Good riddance.'
Paskirov was smiling widely. 'Am I glad... To hear this... Ha-ha!' he laughed.
'We won, Boris!' Chester grabbed his shoulders and shook him violently.
'Yes!' the admiral shook the scientist in turn.
Then they looked at Williams.
'Don't worry, he'll be alright,' Boris told her. 'We'll get him to the medics as soon as possible.'
He noticed that Zaraldis and Avissian had come next to them.
'Hello.'
Zaraldis reached down to the admiral.
'You can get up now. He wants to thank you for showing him the truth,' Carla interpreted.
'No problem. Anytime. Just doing my job...'
'We are to come with them now. We are invited to the purge of the Sei'Tara.
'The what?' Chester asked.
'No idea, that's what he said.'
The three were exhausted from the events of the day. Each one was dirty and bruised and Paskirov's hat missed the badge. Yet the curiosity to see the so-called “purge” motivated them to stay up and follow Avissian and the executor.
The purple crowd of Protoss left the vicinity of the templar archives. Williams was handled by the healers until Terran doctors arrived and the elite guard proceeded onward through the streets. On their way they encountered some Protoss guards. Without a word exchanged a few joined. Those who did not were swiftly killed. The elite guards were moving onwards through the main streets as openly as possible, as if on a midnight parade through the desolate streets.
They were heading, Boris soon realized, to the pyramid in the middle. Its size was striking when they reached it. It seemed to Boris to be as high as a thirty-story building and as massive as the smaller orbital platforms he had seen. The most amazing thing about was that it was made of gold. It was surrounded by a golden wall that ran around it like a circle. Within its confines, gardens filled the space to the base of the tall structure. The tired humans stopped in front of the long stairway up the gate. Boris was breathing heavily while looking at it in awe.
'We go up,' Carla pointed at the long stairway on the facade.
'Climb that...' Chester said.
A few seconds later she replied, 'We're not in a hurry here. They have nowhere to hide.'
A while later, Boris, Chester and Carla were all the way up and entered the main gate of the nexus. They followed Zaraldis and the praetorians through the wide, golden corridors, illuminated by torches, and kept looking at the many tapestries that covered them. There were scenes of the tribe's existence, none of which comprehensible for the Terrans, but they were well done and there were even small crystals where the portrayed Zealots' armor really included any.
Zaraldis was leading the column and the three Terrans kept close behind him. Suddenly, he stopped and pushed one of the tapestries aside, revealing an entrance to a big hall and making Chester realize that there actually weren't any visible doors at all. The walls of the small hall were covered with ever more tapestries, some of which bore nothing but glowing runes. The golden floor was covered by several carpets. At the end, there was an empty golden throne but by the walls there were more smaller ones, on which Protoss elders were sitting.
The executor, in war uniform proudly walked in under their surprised eyes. Behind him, Boris followed with all his dignity. This hall was a tranquil place, he thought. The carpets were clean, the figures in it looking senior and haughty in their hoods. What contrast it was for the executor in uniform to enter uninvited and disrupt the peace, followed by no other but a Terran admiral... And the elite guard. That moment it occurred to Paskirov what the purge may actually be.
Zaraldis stopped in the middle of the room. Just behind him were Avissian, on one side, and Boris on the other. The elite Dark Templar were methodically entering the room and nine of them stepped forth and stood each against an elder.
'This is the high council of the Sei'Tara,' Carla whispered in Boris' ear. 'Zaraldis is now telling them of his discovery about Xentus. These guys used to be the chieftain's trusted group...'
'Right. The only thing we're missing is a camera,' he murmured in response and took out his eagle from his pocket and held it up against the other elders.
'And now they will be punished,' Carla was brief. She took a deep breath. Nine psi blades buzzed and hissed into being. Some of the council members were clearly uneasy with the situation and betrayed their nervousness by holding on to their thrones or trying to stand up.
In perfect unison, nine psi blades sank in the robes of the members of the Sei'Tara High Council, then flied upwards from their chests through their heads and in the air. The elders all dissipated in mystic blue flames.
Boris exhaled. 'Wow.' The selected executioners stepped back.
'The evil in our... I mean this, tribe is undone,' Carla interpreted Zaraldis' speech, delivered with his hands raised high. 'Let all traitors know that this is the fate that awaits them and let today's day remain forevermore in the annals of our kin. Order is restored.'
Boris stood there even as Zaraldis stepped aside and most of the elite Dark Templar left the room. He was thinking about the brutal justice and the change of sides and the past of the tribe. There were no pictures in the tapestries here, he noticed. Strange...
'He is sorry for the mistake he made and thanks you for showing him the truth, commander,' Carla took him out of his thoughts. Zaraldis was behind her.
'Right, well, any time. Given the circumstances,' Boris replied.
'All of Xentus' records will be given to the expeditionary fleet.' she paused. 'We can be their guests tonight.'
The admiral gave that thought some consideration. 'Thank you, Zaraldis, but I have business with my fleet. It is time to go.'
The ghost looked at him with dubiousness, then informed the executor.
'Executor, now that we have... Reached a consensus,' Paskirov continued, 'perhaps we can think of disentangling the fleets and deciding how to get rid of the slab?'
Carla came with the answer. 'Time to go to the fleets.'
A Protoss shuttle waited for them outside the pyramid – the “nexus.” It carried them and the executor to the battlefield where the UEF and the Protoss force were facing each other, still caught in their old position of mortal combat. Carla informed the ghosts onboard the Andronikos of the news and the alien shuttle landed in one of the flagship's docking bays. The three were welcomed in an improvised ceremony and, in a gesture of trust, Zaraldis was invited to a meeting of the high command on the next day.
The fleets slowly diverged to everybody's glee. Immediately, scientists and archaeologists got any info that Xentus had been keeping and on the next day results were ready for the meeting.
In the Andronikos' conference room, the Umojan high command, in addition to Zaraldis and his captains, each with an unarmed ghost for translation, listened to a few speeches of reconciliation before the next meeting scheduled two days later when the clever ones of both sides would announce their conclusions on the Sei'Tara archaeological data.
***
Thick clouds had covered the sky on the determined day and in that conference those in charge of the fleets had to endure listening to grim news that confirmed the eerie rumors among the scientists from a day earier.
The slab's location had been discovered by Xentus.
His main research was not kept in Savassilar. It was located in another planet – Gawessa V, which had been attacked by Zerg in the recent weeks. No doubt, on purpose, everybody concluded: he had transferred his notes to the guard of Zerg. Xentus' was threatening the success of the humans even through his legacy of treachery.
The Terrans and the Protoss then decided to make haste for the planet as soon as repairs were done. It took a few days to mend the harm of the battle and at the end, when the Andronikos was leaving the Dark Templar homeworld behind it, Paskirov looked at the dark planet and thought of how fortunate this fleet was. Through wisdom and daring they had somehow managed to survive all these weeks in space, against the Protoss. But now wisdom had made them allies with the Protoss and the two races, united in reason and common goal, were preparing to preclude the Zerg's plans to gain hold of the slab.
As the Sei'Tara planet was moving away, Boris could not avoid fearing the unknown that was still left to face. He was wary of the Zerg that crept somewhere out there, safely confined in their own planets, but still lurking around the places that he and his friends would have to visit. But, of course, on the other hand there were the weapons and the technology. And their intelligence. Logic had already cleared up a great deal of confusion in the Protoss and he was confident in its ability to take everybody out of this mess.