The Starcraft Archive: An Anthology by Grubb Jeff;Mesta Gabriel;Hickman Tracy

Author:Grubb, Jeff;Mesta, Gabriel;Hickman, Tracy [Grubb, Jeff;Mesta, Gabriel;Hickman, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 2007-11-13T10:00:00+00:00

Chapter 35

IN THE HEAT OF THE BATTLE, EXECUTOR KORONIS was too involved with directing his Protoss forces to notice the tiny ripple of disturbance in the air. A stranger, a hidden visitor.

Beside him, beneath the looming majesty of the naked Xel’Naga artifact, Judicator Amdor seethed, mentally spitting insults and fury at the Zerg and Terran enemies who were attempting to steal the ancient treasure. Amdor considered that the artifact belonged to him alone.

As the zealots attacked the ground forces and massive carriers flew overhead, dropping deadly squadrons of interceptors, Koronis finally sensed a cold presence — something familiar yet separate from the Khala, the psychic link that bound all Protoss together. He turned, curious and troubled, just as Amdor whirled around, sensing the same thing.

In the air between them, standing on a raised mound of broken rock and scabrous dirt, a figure appeared. A tall Protoss female shed a camouflage of shadows, like oil dripping off steel. She phased out of invisibility, bending light around her.

“A Dark Templar!” Judicator Amdor reeled, his face and mind squirming with revulsion and disgust. “Foul heretic!” His psychic shout attracted the attention of other Judicators and High Templar nearby.

The female Dark Templar did not flinch from the insult and mental onslaught. “I come bearing a warning for you, for all the Protoss here,” she said. “I am Xerana, loyal to the First Born despite the persecution that Judicators like you have inflicted upon us.” The sinewy gray-skinned female looked squarely at Amdor, who drew himself taller, as if wishing he had a powerful weapon in his hands.

Uneasy, knowing the terrible powers the Dark Templar could use, Executor Koronis signaled for backup troops. He did not hate the Dark Templar, as Amdor did, but he was cautious, especially in this battlefield crisis.

Four zealots bounded to his aid, Psionic Blades already activated and flashing. One dragoon turned on its four legs and scuttled toward where the commanders had stood.

“You do not understand what you are doing,” Xerana said, looking to Koronis for understanding. “You have no inkling of the true origin and purpose behind this artifact. You must not interfere with the plans of the Wanderers from Afar. Leave here.”

“We are the First Born of the Xel’Naga!” Amdor said. “You and your traitorous followers have broken from the Khala and turned renegade to our race. You have caused enough damage already. Do not intrude in this place.”

Executor Koronis, though, was more interested in what could have drawn this fugitive into the den of her mortal enemies. She must have known the Judicators would want to punish her. “Dark Templar, what information do you have for us?”

Amdor glared at him, eyes blazing. “Executor, surely you don’t mean to listen to the corrupted words of this —”

Koronis raised his three-fingered hand. “I am the commander of this Protoss force. I would be a fool to dismiss any vital intelligence, regardless of its source.”

Xerana leaned closer to the Executor, dismissing Amdor and infuriating him further. “I have a message and a dire warning.

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