Part 1 Chapter 8: Reception

2481 C.E.
UMOJAN EXPEDITIONARY FLEET
HIGH ORBIT OVER PLANET 2477MA01
The fleet was now out of warp space and far above the surface of the rocky planet. The ships were at the ready and the crews waited for the next Protoss ruins that lay somewhere down there. They were above the edge between the light and the dark side of the planet and the miniature features of the vast terrain far below were made visible by the sunlight falling on their side. Through the clouds, the humans could see the grayish, surface pockmarked with tiny craters and the many elevations and peaks whose precipices stood tall and redoubtable, yet miniature and with an ornamental harmlessness beneath the vitrine of the atmosphere. In an unknown place somewhere on that planet, there were the mysterious ruins of an alien civilization that no human had previously entered. This thought, that they were pioneers in a certain field and that their work would one day prove seminal for mankind's future, motivated the personnel on the fleet. The majority knew that this was not an ordinary mission the fleet was performing, and that added a sense of specialness aboard the Graf von Moltke that Paskirov had never seen on a Confederate vessel.
The ships accelerated towards the dark side of the planet and dove into the atmosphere. The readings were good – the air was breathable and the temperatures at the supposed tropics were around ten degrees in the standard system. There were no dangerous winds, nor any toxic elements.
As the ships were flying through the thin air of the outer atmosphere, one of the commodores on the bridge of the Graf noticed something.
'Sir, come and look!' he called.
Paskirov and a few others approached and looked to where the officer was pointing. Through the window there was only the dark vastness of the planet, the night sky, and the other ships from the left section of the fleet.
'Over there, next to the lonely ridge. I saw lights.'
'Are you sure, Coubertin?” Paskirov asked. 'Give me binoculars. Adjutant, any reading from the other ships about that?'
'Nothing, sir.'
Boris looked through the binoculars and focused them on the mentioned landmark.
'Yes... I see it. You were right, wow. I see three or four different ones. Quite visible, I have to admit. I wonder who – or what – is there...' he murmured and gave the binoculars to the nearest officer to look. 'Adjutant, inform the flagship and the science vessels about this. Northwest of where we are.'
'Sir, yes, sir.'
A few minutes later, instructions came from the Andronikos. Angular measurements from the science vessels showed that the lights were about twenty kilometers away, so the fleet continued forwards to the first measurement point. The dropship with the sphere and the guards left the docking bay on the back of the Andronikos' hammerhead and headed downwards. It passed the crowns of the trees in the forest beneath it and landed on an clear stretch of land several hundred meters wide. The scientists and the soldiers stepped out and headed for a position closer to the nearby trees under the three searchlights of the dropship in the air. The scientists took the measurements and prepared to leave. As the guards walked back after them, the ghost in the team turned right. Something moved in the darkness of the slim trees. He raised his C-10 rifle ready to open fire at the first branch he saw make a move and the soldiers followed him. But nothing happened.
Williams always bothered to hear the reports after each occasion the sphere had to leave the battlecruiser. McNorman was bewildered with such stubbornness that bordered obsession, but chose not to forbid the ghost from wasting time on a simple and repetitive procedure. This time, it was different. Williams knew better than the admiral about the ghost's concern because he trusted his special troop.
'I want to be on guard for these measurements, sir,' the Major told McNorman.
'Normally I would dismiss this as unnecessary, but you are extremely well-trained and this is your choice. Be it as you wish. But be careful – you are still responsible for preparedness for battle.'
'Thank you, sir.'
The next seven measurements were with Williams participating. When the ships went through the vertices of the double pyramid that the points in the procedure suggested, the data was processed, and the fleet headed for the temple.
They arrived there at noon. The temple was located on a plateau in a mountain massif in the northern hemisphere. The huge ships began spreading out around the structure in a defensive formation while the dropships and two science vessels flew towards the temple. As the first troops landed, they saw that this structure was not unlike the previous one. It was again made of stone and worn out by the march of time. Its pyramidal silhouette was broken up by the many additional columns and stairs, but it lacked any decorations whatsoever. When INFCOM Alpha and INFCOM Zeta were all down, the soldiers moved forward to secure a perimeter for the scientists.
Leading the first platoon of the special forces company Zeta was Williams. The soldiers moved forwards, ready to fire, and their commander watched the structure with cold suspicion, as if waiting for Zerg to spring out of it. They started climbing the big stairway on the front of the temple. When they were almost at the first level, Williams saw something move.
He quickly turned his rifle and fired. His men followed a second later and their firepower dug a small dent in the sloping wall. There was nothing. A moment later, a huge lizard came out from behind the colonnade on the first level and ran downwards. The major sneered and continued. A hundred meters further up, the group saw something shiny on the pathway leading sideways. Williams approached it and was surprised to see a huge piece of gold with the shape and size of a fender. Protoss, he thought. Damn, they must be here.
'All units, we have signs of Protoss activity. Expect hostiles.'
The rest of the soldiers braced up.
A few hours later, the scientists had finished mapping the structure and recording all possible data. Thankfully, there were no signs of Protoss except for a few more golden shards and some broken lens made of crystal. These findings, along with the photos and the measurements were sent back to the fleet to be stored on the networks. The men on the ground prepared to leave. As Williams was sitting in his seat in the dropship, he got an incoming transmission on his head radio from an external network. Wondering who could it be, he accepted it.
'Mike, it's me, Boris.'
'Yes, vice-admiral?'
'Look, I heard that you wanted to participate in all the triangulations. And that you saw some golden thing that looked like Protoss-made. I understand. But isn't it too much? I mean, I think you are afraid of them.'
'I did the most logical thing, Boris. I saw evidence of enemy activity and I ordered the men to be more alert. As for the measurements, I just wanted to be careful. You know I can defend the artifact better than any of my men.'
'Right. Still, you are taking it too seriously. Maybe you should relax. I understand that Carla's injuries when we raided the pirates were difficult for you to overcome, but...'
'I know how seriously I should be taking this! ...Sir!' Williams interrupted him in frustration. 'And do not associate her with all this.'
'Mike, you do not behave naturally when she is around. You become too protective. At the expense of audacity. This affects your battlefield performance. You know that,' Paskirov argued.
'I know what's good for me, Boris. I have it under control.'
'That's what you think.'
'That's what I see.'
'But nobody else sees it this way. All evidence suggests you do not and we can infer that.'
'You are wrong.'
'What makes you think that?' Paskirov asked over the line with a tone of compassion.
'I can see it, Boris! I just know.'
'I hope you have double-checked your reasoning, then. I'm hanging up. Stay put, my friend.'
'Yes, sir,' Williams replied.
***
The next thing for the Terrans to do on the planet was to check for the lights. The ships flew over the thickest layers of the atmosphere at high speeds and headed towards the previous coordinates. Twenty kilometers from it, the fleet could make visual contact with the specific ridge in the open field. In its base, there was a dark spot that stood out against the sandy slopes. As they approached, they could see more clearly the signs of a settlement. Aboard the Andronikos, McNorman was deciding what to do.
'Any signs of arms?'
'No, sir,' an operator responded.
'Anything alive down there?' the admiral asked.
'Prompting the science vessels, admiral.'
'I want to know what lives down there.'
There was no reading of life, but when the fleet drew as close as two kilometers, they were certain.
'Sir, there is definitive data of a settlement,' the operator explained. 'There are tents or similar structures. There are also... Several golden buildings. That's what they say.'
'Gold... Then this could be the Protoss. Their ships, according to Paskirov were golden. Who knows, we'll see.'
'Sir, new transmission from the Mercator. They have seen figures that fit the descriptions of the Protoss.'
'Show them, adjutant,' McNorman said and walked to the screen at the back of the bridge.
There, the huge photos from the science vessel's telescope appeared. They showed the whole area, in detail and upon zooming in the admiral and the officers that were now summoned could see a group of tiny dark figures standing in front of the settlement. They looked humanoid and seemed to be leaning forward, but the detail of the photo did not allow for much more.
'Adjutant, give me the Graf von Moltke,' McNorman ordered.
He was connected and on the other side was Boris.
'Paskirov, do you see that?'
'Yes, sir, we got the photos.'
'Are these the Protoss?' McNorman asked.
'I am pretty sure they are. Ninety-nine percent. I can also say that they appear unarmored.'
'I will send some people down there to negotiate with them and declare our good intentions.'
'Alright.'
'Williams, Commodore Richardson and Summers will go. And some guards and Doctor Martens and Doctor Tylor, who will record everything. I want you to join them.'
'Yes, sir.'
'You know these Protoss better than I. You will be more useful down there. My intent is to be friends with them, clear?'
'Right. I will go.'
Half an hour later, the ships were at a safe distance of one kilometer from the alien camp. This was so that the Protoss or whoever was down there would not feel threatened. A single dropship moved down towards the open area in front of the settlement.
The place was a strange mix of technology and frugality. In the middle, there were three huge golden structures with strange curved designs. In between them, there were two huge light blue crystals that stood erect in the air, each girdled by a round golden plate with strange markings and smaller crystals embedded in it. Around these buildings were tents. Large pieces of cloth, yoked together and supported in several places formed the majority of them. They were overall two metes tall and had a black or dark grey tint, like the robes of the Protoss that awaited.
The dropship landed and the delegation left the guards around it and walked towards the aliens.
'Do you think that these aliens are friendly, Boris?' Summers asked. 'They give me the creeps. Look at them, standing like statues, staring at us with those glowing eyes... Ugh.'
'Don't worry, we are safe. If something goes wrong, our friends are over there in the huge warships and ready to help,' Boris replied.
'I feel vulnerable without my rifle,' Williams remarked. 'We could be walking towards our death.'
'Major, this is the last hostile idea I want to hear from you until the day is over, alright?' Paskirov reproached him. 'You are here first of all to translate and then to fight. And, besides, there is no reason to worry. There are no hostile life forms that we have seen in this area so our pals down there should be fine.'
The Terrans stopped a few meters away from the Protoss and Paskirov raised his hand at the aliens. The one that stood in front of the group, also the most senior-looking, raised his hand in return. The humans watched in awe the graceful gesture and the strange hand with four fingers, two of which were thumbs at both sides of the wrist. His skin was grey and more wrinkled than that of the others. He wore a ragged dark robes of several layers that seemed indistinguishable from his scarf and cloak. He had something like hair falling from the back of his tall sleek head, in the shape of a few thick cords, but these were short and tied up. The rest of the group looked much like him, albeit with a younger appearance.
'Tell him who we are, Mike,' Boris told the ghost. 'And that we come in peace.'
'He says he is Nartas from the Sei'Tara tribe. He welcomes us to this planet they call Jardis. And asks us what are we doing here with these ships and these things the doctors here are holding.'
'Ask him what he is doing here,' Richardson said.
A few seconds later, the ghost interpreted.
'He says that you are the ones with the weaponry and machines of war and that it would be unfair to not introduce oneselves first.'
Paskirov frowned at this, but immediately suppressed it.
'We are a Terran expeditionary fleet from the world of Umoja. We are here to research your temples.'
'He says that his kin has no temples.'
'Wait, what? Then who the hell made those two?' Summers interrupted.
'He asks us what do we know about his kin and where have we met anybody of his species before.'
'This guy asks too much for somebody without an armed fleet behind him... I don't like this,' Boris murmured. 'Alright, tell him that... Tell him how we fought that other guy Zaraldis back there. And how we escaped. No point in lying, who knows how informed this Protoss is.'
Williams focused at the alien and a minute later spoke to the vice-admiral.
'He says that our story is accurate, although we may be boisterous in our account, and that he trusts us.'
'Right. Now, tell him that we come in peace and that we want to know who made those temples we saw here and on that previous planet,' Boris ordered.
'He says that for that information we need to offer some information of our own in return.'
There was a wave of disapproval among the group of Terrans.
'Calm down, everybody, this is an order,' the vice-admiral said. 'Major, inform the Protoss that we want to know more about what they are doing here.'
'He says that they are archaeologists from this Sei'Tara tribe and that they are here to research the ruins. Something like what we do.'
'Ask him who made these structures if it is not his species.'
'He claims,' the ghost began, 'that he wants information from us about the temples if he is to tell us anything.'
'That's not entirely benevolent,' Richardson observed. Williams was about to agree but he saw Boris' eyes warning him and refrained.
'Doctor Martens, tell mister Nartas all that we know about the runes, please.'
'Yes, sir,' Martens said and cleared his throat before beginning. 'We have found that these structures are very old and that in certain halls in their interior, there were engravings. These engravings were pictograms of some sort that we carefully recorded...'
For about twenty minutes, Williams was telling the Nartas and the other Protoss about the Terran records and the different theories about the meaning of the symbols that they had discovered. When he was done, he looked at the fleet's delegation, wondering when would this end. Then, the Protoss answered.
'He appreciates our honesty and goodwill, he says. The runes we found, are records. They tell not tales of Protoss, but something more. The temples we have been on, they are special. They were not made by any of his kin, nor did any Protoss do the writing on them. The ruins are thousands of years old and are older than the Protoss civilzation.'
'Wow,' Summers uttered.
'What made the ruins is another race. This race's name is forbidden to say by the laws of his tribe. The race are neither Protoss, nor Zerg, nor us, humans. His tribe worships this race and awaits the day when the Protoss will return to their loin.'
'Are you recording this, doctor?' Boris said. 'Mike, ask him why did this race build the temples.'
Williams again focused and then replied.
'Well, sir, he says that his tribe had been trying to find exactly that. However, what they know is, wow, that their god-race made them. The ones that these guys worships are the creators of the Protoss.'
The Terrans looked at each other.
'This is a gold mine, Clyde,' Martens laughed at Tylor. 'Wait till we get back home with this.'
'Alright gentlemen, not now. Major, ask these Protoss what happened to their gods.'
'Commander, the Protoss says that it all happened thousands of years ago. The Protoss were created by these gods on a distant planet called Aiur. The gods gave the Protoss reason and magic and taught them technology and society and some other important things. But then, the Protoss stopped heeding the wisdom of the gods. The Protoss became arrogant and selfish and no longer cared about the advice and benevolence of the nameless race. And so, the gods left Aiur. Bloody conflict ensued after that. It's called the Aeon of Strife. Countless Protoss fell in the chaos and anarchy that ensued. Merciless battles were fought, and finally one warrior managed to prevail. His name was Khas. He studied the lore of the former masters of all, and he grew powerful. He deceived many of his kin into following him and bound their spirits to his army. He was successful and began restoring order on Aiur, but many other Protoss saw his real motivations. They knew that he really wanted to rule above all. The guy Khas was stratifying the Protoss into classes and was merciless against those who did not want to join his order. He wanted to be like the nameless ones, a god, who ruled above all others. So, he fought all who opposed his ideas with fire and wrath.'
'My, god...' Richardson said. Everybody was listening attentively.
'And so, to avoid being enslaved by the tyrant Khas, some Protoss fled Aiur. They called themselves Dark Templar. They refused to consent to this new order that was not one of the gods, but of the evil, mortal Khas. So, they took off and scattered throughout the Protoss sector of the galaxy. That was various tribes. After they left, they were pretty isolated from each other. Most forgot the real events that occurred on Aiur and succumbed to a state of un-wisdom and barbarity. However, the Sei'Tara tribe, these guys here, were always very careful about remembering their heritage and what happened on Aiur, the original homeland of all Protoss. Through the centuries, they carefully kept all records of all this. And then, a new guy became the head of the tribe. His name was Xentus. He taught the Sei'Tara what he had learned from his own studies of the gods' artifacts. He found out that there existed a vestige of the former gods' presence, a slab with a special inscription. The slab apparently held the secrets to acquiring powers that could undo Khas' former order. Because, he says, although Khas died long ago, his empire still remains, strong and hostile as ever, and seeks to enslave all the Dark Templar, so the Dark Templar must fight back. The slab's powers could lead to the undoing of the great enemy of all Protoss and establish a new order for all Protoss throughout the galaxy. A new order that is one of freedom and modesty. If this was established, the gods would again return and the initial order from before the Protoss' arrogance would be restored. And so, under the guidance of Xentus, the Sei'Tara have dedicated themselves to making this happen. For many years now, they were seeking the special slab that could lead them to victory and could overthrow the evil of Khas' empire.'
Nobody was speaking.
'As for why the temples are built, the guys here suppose that they hold clues to the real location of the slab. Decode all the runes and you will find it, use it and take down the bad guys,' the ghost concluded.
'Amazing,' Summers said to Paskirov.
'You don't say, Steve.'
Clamor was heard from inside the settlement. The vice-admiral looked at the ships back in the distsance. All were there. In the village, something was going on. A Protoss ran from the buildings to Nartas' group in swift jumps. He looked at the old one and both left back to the encampment.
'He says he will be right back,' Williams mentioned.
'Right, thank you, Mike. Are you tired?' Boris asked.
'I could use some silence.'
'We'll be done soon. Say, you can hear their thoughts, right?'
'Yes,' the ghost replied.
'And they can hear yours?'
'Yes.'
'But can they hear all your thoughts?' Paskirov unquired.
'Not really. Only the thoughts I let free. Same with them. I have been trained by the Confederates to conceal my thoughts, and so have been my men. And so have been these guys, if I may note.'
So you can hide your mind from them?'
'Yes, I can.'
'Can they hear me thinking?' Boris asked.
'I don't think so. You should know if they are reading your thoughts. I do. And if they do, you just focus on something else,' the ghost replied. 'Why?'
'Oh, nothing. Just asking.'
'Did you hear what they said about the events from back when we were still with Anders? Yeah, right, boisterous. I bet whoever told him the Protoss version of the story probably omitted some of the details...' Summers frowned. 'Anyway. They are nice guys.'
'I do not trust them,' Williams said coldly.
'Why not?' Paskirov asked.
'Their race is treacherous. Look at their history.'
'What, reminds you of the Confederacy?' Summers smled. 'Yet another struggle for power and influence. Guess intelligent life isn't that different after all? Wherever you are in the galaxy...'
'The point is, that we could find this slab thing and bring it back to Umoja. We'll be famous if we do,' Paskirov said.
'True, sir. Umoja will be more powerful than the Confederacy,' Richardson smiled.
'I need to contact McNorman. He has to know about all this. Tylor, send him the story about the Protoss and a footer from me, asking him how much I can tell them about the artifact, will you?' he ordered the doctor.
'Yes, sir.'
'I wonder if they will want us to help them find it or anything,' Richardson told Paskirov.
'It is possible. Although not entirely civilized. Regardless, we will have to say no and inform the admiral for such an offer.'
Fifteen minutes later, the Protoss was back.
'So, he says that we need to leave. The fleet. Off the planet,' the ghost said.
'But why?' Summers asked.
'He says that it's for our own good. He does not want us to perish.'
'What is he talking about?' Richardson was bewildered.
'Their scouts have detected Zerg on the planet. Nartas wants us to go before the Zerg have destroyed us.'
'Where are these Zerg he speaks of?' Summers asked.
'That-a-way,' Williams pointed east.'
'I see,' Boris replied. 'Well, tell him that this is not to us here to decide and bid him farewell. Clearly, it's time to leave.'
When Williams turned back, the rest of the group followed him into the dropship.
'I hope we leave. I've had enough of these uncanny aliens. I can't stand their rags,' Richardson spoke.
'Now, now, commodore, there is more to a being than just the clothes,' Paskirov answered. 'We are yet to see where their loyalties will take them.'
***
The dropship entered one of the docking bays of the Andronikos and the delegation went to the conference room to meet the rest of the fleet command. They briefed McNorman on the reception.
'Sir, you heard their history. Now, they are asking us to leave because of Zerg presence on the planet,' Richardson spoke.
'Yes, I see. The question is, how big is this Zerg presence?' the admiral said to himself as much as to the others.
'We detected nothing when we were flying from here to there, taking measurements,' Martens said. 'Whatever numbers the Zerg have, they are well hidden.'
'And besides, why should we think that the Zerg want to attack?' McNorman noted.
'They told us to leave because of the Zerg only after there was some activity in the settlement. Perhaps they had spotted them no earlier than then.'
'We should see how many these Zerg are and destroy them if possible,' the admiral decided. 'Do we know where they are?'
'Nartas said that they are somewhere east of this settlement,' Williams replied.
'We're going east, then. It never hurts to do a good deed.'
With this ordered, the ships reformed and turned east. Above the field, south of the Protoss settlement, the expeditionary fleet moved into battle formation. The Graf von Moltke and the Hreimdar stood a kilometer apart. In front of them, at a higher altitude, was the Andronikos. Behind each battlecruiser were three of the nine Wanderer-class ships, each three in a forward wedge. Again in the height, behind the Andronikos' leading task group and higher than the two others, were the cargo ships and three of the science vessels. The other two were in the extreme right and left of the fleet, higher than the task groups of the Hreimdar and the Graf von Moltke. The last one was flying in front of and below the Andronikos, scanning the ground in front of it. So formed, the fleet maximized its fire towards the ground and McNorman felt confident in its strength.