surprised.
“His name was James Raynor.” Again an image was shown to Jake, of a man with a shaved head that had begun to once again become dotted with stubble, of a close-cropped beard and mustache and eyes that he knew had once held laughter and now had seen too much. He was standing shoulder to shoulder with the protoss, obviously welcomed and accepted, obviously deeply concerned for their wel-being.
“It is because of Raynor that we recognized your craft as being a terran vessel—
possibly that of one who would be a friend. It is why when our observers spotted it, we came to your aid.”
“Heh,” said Rosemary, chuckling slightly. “If I ever meet this Raynor felow, I’m gonna shake his hand and thank him for being such a good ambassador.”
Jake shared her sentiment.
“We expected it to be a death sentence,” Ladranix continued. “We were prepared to fal to the zerg and die as the proud people we are. And do not mistake me—many, many of us did. The zerg were wel controled and deadly. But Executor Tassadar saved his people by destroying the Overmind that controled the zerg. It cost him his life, but he succeeded. The zerg were stil mad to kil—but they were no longer directed in that goal. They fel upon themselves as readily as upon us. It bought us some time.”
Jake recaled the attacks, unable to suppress a shiver of revulsion as he watched them unfold again in his mind. “But … they certainly seemed focused enough when they saw us.”
Ladranix nodded. “Yes. Something changed sometime after the gate was closed.
While the zerg no longer attacked quite so intently, nor with the same focus as they had while they were controled by the Overmind, they were no longer mindless creatures. Something had shifted, somewhere. Certainly they were stil dangerous.
And stil inteligent.”
Jake got the impression of a predator toying with its prey. Cat and mouse, he thought, and sent the image.
Ladranix sent back an affirmative. “Yes. Once, the absolute obliteration of every protoss was their main concern. Now they wander about; they are tools that, while stil functional, appear to have been largely discarded. Over the years we have managed to kil many zerg in this area, and as far as we can tel, no others have been bred to take their place. That gives us hope. Stil, the zerg certainly do attack when they see us. And we knew they would head straight for your vessel, to determine if you were any kind of threat.”
“Do you think they wil pursue us?” Jake felt a sudden chil, despite the oppressive heat of the place.
“Unlikely. Your ship is ruined, and it was mere accident that they came across you a second time. We anticipate that you wil become folded into our group, no more or no less a threat to them than we are. The weapons we recovered from your vessel wil be useful to us.”
Now they were navigating among what had been glorious spires and towers. Jake saw in his mind’s eye, superimposed over what his true eyes beheld, what this view had once been like. The little golden ship, a firefly of a vessel, moved gracefuly amid the ruins until it came to a blackened clearing. It looked like a bomb had gone off here once but that the area had now been at least somewhat reclaimed. To the north, he saw some debris that intrigued him, though he couldn’t make sense of the jumble.
The ship settled down easily, and the moment it alit, the protoss al rose in a movement timed so perfectly it might have been choreographed. The door opened and the elegant ramp extended, its delicacy at sharp odds with the ruination onto which it opened.
“Please, go first. You are expected.”
Jake and Rosemary nodded. Rosemary went first, moving with her head held high and a lithe, in-control stride. Jake folowed.
He immediately thought of a refugee camp. Dozens, maybe hundreds of protoss al turned as one to gaze at him. Large, lambent eyes looked him up and down, seemed to gaze into his very soul. The silence was the
“His name was James Raynor.” Again an image was shown to Jake, of a man with a shaved head that had begun to once again become dotted with stubble, of a close-cropped beard and mustache and eyes that he knew had once held laughter and now had seen too much. He was standing shoulder to shoulder with the protoss, obviously welcomed and accepted, obviously deeply concerned for their wel-being.
“It is because of Raynor that we recognized your craft as being a terran vessel—
possibly that of one who would be a friend. It is why when our observers spotted it, we came to your aid.”
“Heh,” said Rosemary, chuckling slightly. “If I ever meet this Raynor felow, I’m gonna shake his hand and thank him for being such a good ambassador.”
Jake shared her sentiment.
“We expected it to be a death sentence,” Ladranix continued. “We were prepared to fal to the zerg and die as the proud people we are. And do not mistake me—many, many of us did. The zerg were wel controled and deadly. But Executor Tassadar saved his people by destroying the Overmind that controled the zerg. It cost him his life, but he succeeded. The zerg were stil mad to kil—but they were no longer directed in that goal. They fel upon themselves as readily as upon us. It bought us some time.”
Jake recaled the attacks, unable to suppress a shiver of revulsion as he watched them unfold again in his mind. “But … they certainly seemed focused enough when they saw us.”
Ladranix nodded. “Yes. Something changed sometime after the gate was closed.
While the zerg no longer attacked quite so intently, nor with the same focus as they had while they were controled by the Overmind, they were no longer mindless creatures. Something had shifted, somewhere. Certainly they were stil dangerous.
And stil inteligent.”
Jake got the impression of a predator toying with its prey. Cat and mouse, he thought, and sent the image.
Ladranix sent back an affirmative. “Yes. Once, the absolute obliteration of every protoss was their main concern. Now they wander about; they are tools that, while stil functional, appear to have been largely discarded. Over the years we have managed to kil many zerg in this area, and as far as we can tel, no others have been bred to take their place. That gives us hope. Stil, the zerg certainly do attack when they see us. And we knew they would head straight for your vessel, to determine if you were any kind of threat.”
“Do you think they wil pursue us?” Jake felt a sudden chil, despite the oppressive heat of the place.
“Unlikely. Your ship is ruined, and it was mere accident that they came across you a second time. We anticipate that you wil become folded into our group, no more or no less a threat to them than we are. The weapons we recovered from your vessel wil be useful to us.”
Now they were navigating among what had been glorious spires and towers. Jake saw in his mind’s eye, superimposed over what his true eyes beheld, what this view had once been like. The little golden ship, a firefly of a vessel, moved gracefuly amid the ruins until it came to a blackened clearing. It looked like a bomb had gone off here once but that the area had now been at least somewhat reclaimed. To the north, he saw some debris that intrigued him, though he couldn’t make sense of the jumble.
The ship settled down easily, and the moment it alit, the protoss al rose in a movement timed so perfectly it might have been choreographed. The door opened and the elegant ramp extended, its delicacy at sharp odds with the ruination onto which it opened.
“Please, go first. You are expected.”
Jake and Rosemary nodded. Rosemary went first, moving with her head held high and a lithe, in-control stride. Jake folowed.
He immediately thought of a refugee camp. Dozens, maybe hundreds of protoss al turned as one to gaze at him. Large, lambent eyes looked him up and down, seemed to gaze into his very soul. The silence was the
Similar Books
