Battlefield on Shakuras, Thursday
Jan. 15th, 2009 10:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
on_her_korhalIt had been a long, almost unknowable time since last Protoss did battle against Protoss in quite this way. It had Artanis drunk on grief as he stalked through the harsh landscape of Shakuras, the psi-blade at his wrist humming a song of tragedy and war.
All around him, templars were dying. With a whispered plea he struck his blade into one young Zealot's neck and crushed her, her dying screams echoing through Artanis's mind. It was a horrid day, but he could not choose to pause by it now. Two mirages they had struck down.
The real Aldaris had to await them somewhere in these ruins.
And so Artanis ran, a blinding, golden presence on the field, slicing and fighting in the shadows of towering dragoons and Shakuras's purple skies.
At least he was not alone in this. But short feet from him was his new compatriot, his most-honoured brother in arms. Zeratul struck fast and hard, under cover of his own darkness, and with a steely determination underneath his experience of tragedy.
That, then, was enough.
There seemed no end to the carnage, until there was: there stood Aldaris, armored and mighty. He moved, but Zeratul's speed was greater than his: locked out of battle, left to stand alone, he watched.
The Dark Templar's vorpal blades simmered as he fought, locked in the elegant dance of Khalai warfare. Zeratul struck, Aldaris moved. Aldaris struck, Zeratul moved. Their auras glowed brighter and brighter.
They weren't just fighting physically. They were fighting as true Protoss, mind to mind, blade to blade, and even if the rules of combat had not forced Artanis out of this skirmish, the sheer power on display would have stopped him in his tracks.
Greater and greater, the force built. Stronger and stronger, the blows became.
And then without warning, the dance ended.
Aldaris' knees hit the ground. He was bleeding severely, but his pain was kept contained. A true Protoss warrior until the end. Artanis' heart squeezed with sadness and desperation as he ran to join them. Surely, Aldaris would see sense, if they pleaded right. Surely, he would not have to be responsible for the death of a great hero.
"It is finished, Judicator." Zeratul's blade slid back into the generator. He was a honorable man. There could be hope. "Surrender your remaining forces, and join us in eradicating the Zerg," he said, and offered his hand.
The light in Aldaris's eyes seemed to flow more brightly as his head snapped up. "I would sooner die, dark one, than tarnish the memory of Aiur by joining with you."
Had he been Terran, Artanis's breath would have choked. As it was, his movements simply stilled again, ungently, inelegant.
"Your fate was sealed the moment your Matriarch allied herself with the Queen of Blades!" Aldaris called, and now Artanis could name the light: fury. True templar fury that would never cease. "Those of us still loyal to Aiur will never be slaves to Kerrigan and her Broods."
He wanted to speak. There was no doubt of his loyalty to Aiur. He'd merely seen that another way was necessary, and so had Zeratul. He wished greatly for Aldaris to see sense.
He could not contain himself. "Aldaris, be reasonable! Kerrigan has changed. She no longer seeks to enslave everyone!" He had seen her at work. Had seen her struggle against the Zerg at their side. And please-- not Aldaris. Not his old mentor. "Do not force us to destroy you."
And with those words, he was recognized.
Aldaris trained that fury on him, and it was but sheer conviction that kept Artanis on his feet, in his place. "You can no longer afford to be so naive, Artanis," he said. He sounded weary.
He was not naive. "I am simply--"
And he was interrupted. "While you were securing the crystals, I discovered that your Matriarch has been harboring a dark secret!" Those eyes left him and flew to Zeratul once again. "She has been manipulated by--"
It happened so fast, none of them could have caught it. A blade sliced down from the shadows, piercing Aldaris's armor, piercing his heart, ending him instantly.
It was a long blade, curving far up and up, not in fact a blade, but--
"We have no time for this!"
Kerrigan ripped her wing out of Aldaris's body with force, and with a shimmer, the cloak about her fell away.
No.
"Kerrigan," Zeratul whispered, and the name held every inch of Artanis's consternation, fear, hatred, anger. "What have you done?"
"I just cleaned up your mess, Protoss," she said, ridiculously light. She drew up her wing, brushing her claws across the tip, cleaning off the blood. "Don't be so squeamish." She flicked a spot off her nail.
"Wretched creature!" Zeratul exploded, and it was all Artanis could do simply to couple it with his own anger. Aldaris had deserved a greater death than this-- than deception. "This was a Protoss matter; you had no right to interfere!"
She shrugged. It was infuriatingly idle. "Fine," she said, and lowered her wing. "But don't forget: I had your backs when it was needed."
She could not, should not stay here. Never. Not now, when she so flagrantly mocked the Khala, the Protoss way, everything they had ever stood for. This was impossible. Unbelievable.
"Begone from this world!" Zeratul roared, "You are no longer welcome among us!"
Her face twitched into a smirk. "I've done what I came here to do," she said. "I've insured the destruction of the renegade Cerebrates, and I used you to do it."
He swore he could hear a greater victory in her tone. As if this had been an accomplishment for accomplishment's sake. Horrid, wretched creature.
She turned. "Have fun, mighty Protoss," she called, as she began to walk away-- he should have buried his blade in her treacherous back. "We'll be seeing each other again!"
The horrid Zerg transport beast descended.
"Real soon," she added.
And left them to their desolate planet.
Artanis's fist clenched tight. "We cannot let her take her leave with this," he whispered. "This entire chain of events has been masterminded by her. We've played right into her hands."
Zeratul would have a strategy. A means to tear her down, to put an end to her and every inch of the threat she so clearly posed. There would be reprisal. And it would be swift.
"Yes, we did." Zeratul, too, had turned, more interested now in the battlefield that was quickly quieting in the wake of Aldaris's death. "Yet our course is set none the less. Using the Temple's energies against the renegade Zerg might accomplish Kerrigan's aims, but it's still our only chance of survival."
Artanis stared after him, silent within the storm. This had been unthinkable.
And for this one instance in time, he was, at last, terrified of the future.
[ most dialogue taken from StarCraft: Brood War Protoss mission 7, 'The Insurgent', and 8, 'Countdown'. OOC-okay, whee, and now we leave the protoss to themselves ]
All around him, templars were dying. With a whispered plea he struck his blade into one young Zealot's neck and crushed her, her dying screams echoing through Artanis's mind. It was a horrid day, but he could not choose to pause by it now. Two mirages they had struck down.
The real Aldaris had to await them somewhere in these ruins.
And so Artanis ran, a blinding, golden presence on the field, slicing and fighting in the shadows of towering dragoons and Shakuras's purple skies.
At least he was not alone in this. But short feet from him was his new compatriot, his most-honoured brother in arms. Zeratul struck fast and hard, under cover of his own darkness, and with a steely determination underneath his experience of tragedy.
That, then, was enough.
There seemed no end to the carnage, until there was: there stood Aldaris, armored and mighty. He moved, but Zeratul's speed was greater than his: locked out of battle, left to stand alone, he watched.
The Dark Templar's vorpal blades simmered as he fought, locked in the elegant dance of Khalai warfare. Zeratul struck, Aldaris moved. Aldaris struck, Zeratul moved. Their auras glowed brighter and brighter.
They weren't just fighting physically. They were fighting as true Protoss, mind to mind, blade to blade, and even if the rules of combat had not forced Artanis out of this skirmish, the sheer power on display would have stopped him in his tracks.
Greater and greater, the force built. Stronger and stronger, the blows became.
And then without warning, the dance ended.
Aldaris' knees hit the ground. He was bleeding severely, but his pain was kept contained. A true Protoss warrior until the end. Artanis' heart squeezed with sadness and desperation as he ran to join them. Surely, Aldaris would see sense, if they pleaded right. Surely, he would not have to be responsible for the death of a great hero.
"It is finished, Judicator." Zeratul's blade slid back into the generator. He was a honorable man. There could be hope. "Surrender your remaining forces, and join us in eradicating the Zerg," he said, and offered his hand.
The light in Aldaris's eyes seemed to flow more brightly as his head snapped up. "I would sooner die, dark one, than tarnish the memory of Aiur by joining with you."
Had he been Terran, Artanis's breath would have choked. As it was, his movements simply stilled again, ungently, inelegant.
"Your fate was sealed the moment your Matriarch allied herself with the Queen of Blades!" Aldaris called, and now Artanis could name the light: fury. True templar fury that would never cease. "Those of us still loyal to Aiur will never be slaves to Kerrigan and her Broods."
He wanted to speak. There was no doubt of his loyalty to Aiur. He'd merely seen that another way was necessary, and so had Zeratul. He wished greatly for Aldaris to see sense.
He could not contain himself. "Aldaris, be reasonable! Kerrigan has changed. She no longer seeks to enslave everyone!" He had seen her at work. Had seen her struggle against the Zerg at their side. And please-- not Aldaris. Not his old mentor. "Do not force us to destroy you."
And with those words, he was recognized.
Aldaris trained that fury on him, and it was but sheer conviction that kept Artanis on his feet, in his place. "You can no longer afford to be so naive, Artanis," he said. He sounded weary.
He was not naive. "I am simply--"
And he was interrupted. "While you were securing the crystals, I discovered that your Matriarch has been harboring a dark secret!" Those eyes left him and flew to Zeratul once again. "She has been manipulated by--"
It happened so fast, none of them could have caught it. A blade sliced down from the shadows, piercing Aldaris's armor, piercing his heart, ending him instantly.
It was a long blade, curving far up and up, not in fact a blade, but--
"We have no time for this!"
Kerrigan ripped her wing out of Aldaris's body with force, and with a shimmer, the cloak about her fell away.
No.
"Kerrigan," Zeratul whispered, and the name held every inch of Artanis's consternation, fear, hatred, anger. "What have you done?"
"I just cleaned up your mess, Protoss," she said, ridiculously light. She drew up her wing, brushing her claws across the tip, cleaning off the blood. "Don't be so squeamish." She flicked a spot off her nail.
"Wretched creature!" Zeratul exploded, and it was all Artanis could do simply to couple it with his own anger. Aldaris had deserved a greater death than this-- than deception. "This was a Protoss matter; you had no right to interfere!"
She shrugged. It was infuriatingly idle. "Fine," she said, and lowered her wing. "But don't forget: I had your backs when it was needed."
She could not, should not stay here. Never. Not now, when she so flagrantly mocked the Khala, the Protoss way, everything they had ever stood for. This was impossible. Unbelievable.
"Begone from this world!" Zeratul roared, "You are no longer welcome among us!"
Her face twitched into a smirk. "I've done what I came here to do," she said. "I've insured the destruction of the renegade Cerebrates, and I used you to do it."
He swore he could hear a greater victory in her tone. As if this had been an accomplishment for accomplishment's sake. Horrid, wretched creature.
She turned. "Have fun, mighty Protoss," she called, as she began to walk away-- he should have buried his blade in her treacherous back. "We'll be seeing each other again!"
The horrid Zerg transport beast descended.
"Real soon," she added.
And left them to their desolate planet.
Artanis's fist clenched tight. "We cannot let her take her leave with this," he whispered. "This entire chain of events has been masterminded by her. We've played right into her hands."
Zeratul would have a strategy. A means to tear her down, to put an end to her and every inch of the threat she so clearly posed. There would be reprisal. And it would be swift.
"Yes, we did." Zeratul, too, had turned, more interested now in the battlefield that was quickly quieting in the wake of Aldaris's death. "Yet our course is set none the less. Using the Temple's energies against the renegade Zerg might accomplish Kerrigan's aims, but it's still our only chance of survival."
Artanis stared after him, silent within the storm. This had been unthinkable.
And for this one instance in time, he was, at last, terrified of the future.
[ most dialogue taken from StarCraft: Brood War Protoss mission 7, 'The Insurgent', and 8, 'Countdown'. OOC-okay, whee, and now we leave the protoss to themselves ]
