“Und lara khar. Anht Zagatir nas,” the warrior finished softly. The words had the feel of a prayer or a ritual in honor of his fallen friend. The Protoss turned his gaze toward Madrid, whose body once again began to quiver with fear.
without a sound to give away its passage, another Protoss entered the room with all the grace and power of an earthbound god. Madrid watched as the large Protoss made his way over to the surviving warrior and crouched beside him. There was something distinctively regal about him, something heroic in his proud stature that commanded immediate reverence. Like the warrior, the larger Protoss was heavily ornamented in archaic-looking battle armor, but it was the color of molten silver clouds just before the breaking of dawn. The armor was also inscribed with swirling, cryptic runes that seemed to pulse with power. Beneath the grand armor, the Protoss was adorned with a flowing, midnight-hued stole that reminded Madrid of a priest’s mantle. The Protoss’s face and skin bore the same look as the warrior’s, yet harsh lines and wrinkles around his eyes gave the impression that he was very old, marked by untold years and experiences.
Again, Madrid heard the warrior’s thunderous voice in his head as the two Protoss began arguing with one another. The large Protoss stood up and gazed intently at the paralyzed Terran. Madrid cowered in his combat suit as the Protoss crossed the room and knelt carefully before him.
Reaching out with his huge, scaled hand, the Protoss placed it gently on the Terran’s forehead. Terrified, Madrid shrank away from the Protoss, but was surprised to find the touch was warm. The Protoss closed his eyes and seemed to sink into deep meditation. A strange, tingling energy raced along Madrid’s nerve endings, and he imagined a slight tugging in his brain, as if the Protoss was scanning his body and manipulating the delicate process of his mind.
Madrid found himself unable to scream as terror overtook him once more. This is it, he thought to himself. The Protoss abruptly took his hand away and stood up. He walked back over to the warrior, and they conversed again. Slowly, Madrid began to comprehend the meaning of the Protoss’s thoughts. He had no idea what the Protoss had done to his mind, but it allowed him to understand their thoughts just as if they were speaking his own language.
“This world is lost, Executor!” Madrid hear the warrior say. “Let us depart this place and strike elsewhere!”
The other Protoss shook his head in disagreement. “That is my decision to make, Thuras. I will not abandon this world until all our efforts have been exhausted.” The one called Thuras turned and stared at Mardid, suddenly aware that his thoughts had been overheard. The warrior stood up slowly, holding Madrid in his harsh gaze. Madrid’s frayed nerves finally snapped.
“Go ahead and get it over with, you son of a bitch!” Madrid screamed. The warrior’s eyes blinked in puzzlement. “I know you can understand me!” he spat at the Protoss. “Make your move, you ugly bastard!”
“My business here has nothing to do with you, Terran,” Thuras said coldly. Madrid was surprised that he could understand the Protoss so clearly. He could tell that the warrior was restraining his fury. “You would do well to keep silent in my presence. Unlike some of my comrades, I have little patience for your kind.” The warrior’s threat was unmistakable, and despite his burning fever, Madrid felt chilled to the bone.
“Be at ease, Thuras,” the other Protoss said. “This Terran is afflicted and poses no threat to you.”
Thuras lowered his eyes and bowed respectfully to his superior. “Your pardon, Executor. I reacted in haste,” Thuras said humbly.
“I understand, young zealot. You are wounded and have lost an honored comrade to the enemy. Yet, in your grief, you must remember that we have come here to protect the Terrans,” the older Protoss said.
“With your leave, Executor, I wish to return to the battle outside. There are many comrades to be avenged this day,” Thuras said resolutely.
The larger Protoss nodded to him. “Go then, with my blessings, young Thuras,” he replied. “I will remain here and tend to this Terran. Khassar de Templari.”
“En Taro Adun,” Thuras answered, and quickly made his way outside. The large Protoss turned toward Madrid and held him with his sapphire gaze, and though it lacked the disdain that emanated from Thuras’ burning stare, Madrid found himself shrinking from the mighty Protoss anyway.
“You need not fear me, Terran. I am Tassadar, Executor of the Protoss fleet that has come here to protect you,” he stated in a soothing voice. Madrid gritted his teeth and refused to accept the Protoss’s words.
“Bullshit,” he snapped. “This is just some kinda mind-job you’re pulling. I’ve seen what you’ve done. I lived through it!” The Protoss looked surprised at the Terran’s rage. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m saying! You remember Chau Sara!” he shouted accusingly. “I was there when your damn fleet burned the planet down to the bedrock!”
Tassadar lowered his gaze and leaned heavily against the cold wall. The alien poison in Madrid’s blood surged at the Protoss’ apparent moment of weakness. The Terran screamed, “I had family on that planet, and they’re dead now because of you! Is that your idea of protection?”
Tassadar paused in contemplation. He lifted his head and looked at Madrid evenly.
“You are correct, Terran,” Tassadar said flatly. “My fleet did burn the world of Chau Sara. Regrettably, I was ordered to do so by the Protoss conclave which I serve.”
Murderer, the sinister alien consciousness whispered in Madrid’s mind.
“Your bosses ordered you to wipe out a colony of four hundred thousand people!” Madrid hissed. “You murdered entire families that never once did you or yours the slightest harm!” He felt the temperature rising again and had to focus to stay conscious.
“You are mistaken,” Tassadar replied, suddenly defensive. “The Conclave ordered me to burn the planet because it had been infested by a malignant alien presence. The culling of the Terran colonists was an unfortunate transpiration. Their lives were of little concern to my superiors, many of whom believe that the eradication of the Zerg should be paramount to any other duty. Even our duty to protect the lesser races under our care.”
“Lesser races? What the hell are you talking about? What’s the Zerg?” Madrid stammered. Tassadar straightened and looked up at the roof of the room as if the stars beyond it were lulling him with some unheard lullaby. With a start, he turned back to Madrid.
“There is so much that your people do not understand about the nature of things,” Tassadar said sadly. “So much, II fear that all of your worlds will be consumed by the time you learn. The Zerg are a race of insatiable destroyers who have come from the far reaches of the cosmos. For many generations, the Zerg Swarm has ravaged its way across countless worlds, striving to accelerate its evolution by incorporating the strongest races that it encounters. Now it has come to claim humanity as its own.”
Unity, the alien presence insisted.
“I’ve heard them,” Madrid admitted nervously. “I can hear the voice in my mind now.”
Tassadar nodded and looked upon the Terran’s fevered condition with concern.
“The Overmind. You hear the Overmind speaking to you. It embodies the collected consciousness of the Zerg Swarm. All of its … minions hear its call and must obey.”
Madrid stared at the Protoss, letting the words sink in. “No! I would never give in to them!” he hissed. “I’m a man, not some mindless animal!”
“That distinction is now only valid for a matter of time. You know what you are becoming. You can feel the Zerg’s virulent bloodlust within you now,” Tassadar said bluntly. Madrid’s body began to spasm uncontrollably. “Your nervous system has been infected with the Zerg’s hyperevolutionary virus. Your body is processing Zerg genes and is rapidly mutating on a cellular level. In time, you will become an agent of the Swarm and will be irrevocably bound to the will of the Overmind.”
Madrid’s breath quickened as his body continued to shake violently. “But we never saw this Overmind
or any swarm on Chau Sara!” he gasped with short breaths. His shaking was becoming more violent. “There was nothing there! I just don’t understand why all those people had to die,” he said weakly, lapsing into a fit of coughing.
Tassadar’s brow furled in sympathy as the Terran began to spit up blood. When Madrid’s fit eased, Tassadar continued.
“Although the Swarm itself had not yet reached the planet, its advanced hive spores had. Your technology was unable to detect the subtle infestation, but I assure you that it was there. My superiors ordered the planet burned to prevent the infestation from spreading to any more of your worlds,” Tassadar said. “Though I grieve for the loss of every Terran life on Chau Sara, I fear that many more of your kind will die if the Swarm’s rampage is not stopped. The Swarm is the most dire threat that this galaxy has ever known.”
“I had no idea….” Madrid whispered. Tears welled up in his eyes as the true horror of his situation settled in his mind. Through the psychic link that existed between them, he could see into the depths of Tassadar’s spirit and was certain of the sincerity of the Protoss’s words.
“Your metamorphosis has progressed too far,” Tassadar explained stoically. “I am afraid that I cannot save you. The infestation, once begun, is irreversible. However, if you wish, I can give you peace.” Madrid looked into his sorrowful azure eyes and immediately understood what the offer entailed.
“I knew some Protoss bastard would kill me sooner or later,” Madrid said chidingly. “I just didn’t figure it’d be this sociable.” Tassadar made a peculiar sound. Madrid was unsure if it was a bemused laugh or a sign of remorse.
Madrid sucked in his last conscious breath. So this is how it all ends, he thought to himself. Better this than the alternative. He summoned up all his courage and gave a trusting nod to Tassadar. With his great hand resting gently on the human’s fevered forehead, Tassadar let loose the full force of his power. Searing blue arcs of psychic fire shot out from his hand and engulfed Madrid’s limp body. The bolts surged through the Terran’s limbs, burning out the invasive alien cells within his blood.
Madrid’s pain was immediately washed away as he felt his consciousness slowly rise out of his body. A swirling vortex of blue, violet, and warm gold flashed before his awestruck eyes. His mind reeled, not in confusion, but in the realization that all his earthly troubles had washed away with his pain.
Reaching out with his consciousness, Madrid sensed Protoss spirits gathered around him. He became fleetingly aware of hundreds and then thousands of their minds, all scattered throughout the swirling ether that he beheld. Each of them emitted strength and nobility that beamed out of the vortex like white-hot rays of sunlight. As Madrid watched, the pure white beams began to coalesce into a single, shining band of inexplicable beauty and power. Madrid imagined the glowing band to be a great, fluid lifeline that spanned the entirety of the Protoss’s existence. The mere sight of it filled his spirit with a profound bliss.
“En Taro Adun, brave Terran: Unto the grace of Adun may your spirit soar,” Tassadar intoned reverently. He opened his eyes and looked down upon the still body of Andre Madrid. Though the Terran’s body was ravaged and broken, his face shone with peace and wonderment, and Tassadar knew the Terran could no longer feel the pain of his affliction. He remained kneeling for a few moments while thing wisps of smoke drifted up form the Terran’s blackened power suit. Regaining his composure, the mighty Protoss lifted Madrid’s body from the broken floor. Carrying the lifeless husk as if it were a sleeping child, he walked outside into the half-light of the setting sun.
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Revelations (starcraft) Page 3
