"Tal'darim Protoss, I am Augustus Mengsk, leader of these humans," Augustus said, gazing toward the Protoss on the bed.
However, the response he expected never came. The Tal'darim Protoss continued to fix those star-like crimson eyes upon Augustus—yet remained utterly silent.
"He refuses to communicate with humans—but based on the intelligence we currently have, the Tal'darim Protoss are capable of communicating directly with humans on the 'consciousness level,' bypassing the barrier of language," Lisa said to Augustus.
"Then does that mean he can understand what I'm saying?" Augustus looked toward Lisa.
"It's still unclear whether the Tal'darim can easily master our language, but at the very least, they can read your thoughts." Lisa nodded and replied, "Just like our own psionics, they can effortlessly perceive the minds of other living beings."
"You don't know what kind of opportunity is standing right before you, Tal'darim." Augustus turned toward the Tal'darim Protoss and stepped closer, while his guards kept their weapons trained on the alien—no one could guarantee that even a maimed Tal'darim wouldn't be capable of striking back with psionic power.
From what was currently known, even among the Tal'darim Protoss there existed varying degrees of psionic strength; only the most powerful among them could unleash psionic attacks comparable to magical assaults.
"You can achieve your revenge through my hands. Imagine that Tal'darim Protoss who brought you to this state—and those of your kin who coldly watched it happen." Augustus spoke.
He knew that, unlike their self-proclaimed orthodox kin of Aiur, the Tal'darim were a race where only the victor ruled. Amid brutal struggles and ceaseless intrigue among their own kind, the strong obtained rank and power, while the defeated were left with nothing.
Every Tal'darim was a formidable warrior—for the weak were culled. They were much like the Spartans of Earth's ancient era, and the relationship between Tal'darim and Tal'darim was that of lion against lion.
Even now, this technologically advanced civilization still adhered to a system of slavery, treating both their kin and their enemies with equal cruelty.
Hearing Augustus's words, the Tal'darim Protoss turned his head slightly, as if stirred by something.
"Marshal Mengsk, my assistants and I have already secured the two spider-like mechs belonging to the Tal'darim Protoss," said Swann's assistant, Victor Kachinsky, after several seconds of silence.
"We discovered that the cockpits of these spider-type mechs are filled with life-sustaining nutrient fluid. The pilots are directly linked to their machines through neural interfaces—technology like this is simply unheard of." He continued, "Thanks to such a system, pilot and machine are almost one; those mechanical limbs move as fluidly as their own arms and legs, as though the machinery itself were part of their bodies."
"But the cockpits of these mechs were all permanently sealed—in other words, the Tal'darim engineers crudely welded the hatches shut. Once a pilot enters, he may never again have a chance to come out for the rest of his life."
"How cruel," Kerrigan muttered.
"But maybe Jimmy would love something like that—he's always wanted to fuse himself with his Vulture." Augustus merely shrugged, his tone mocking the Tal'darim Protoss.
"Enough. You have no right to judge the Tal'darim—the chosen of the Creator."
At last, the Tal'darim Protoss spoke, his voice echoing directly within the minds of every human present.
Perhaps this Tal'darim had once been accustomed to arrogance at the height of his power—but after losing to a challenger in battle, he no longer had the right to be proud. All his confidence and status had been stripped away together.
"With those primitive and backward tools of yours, how could you possibly help me take revenge?" The Tal'darim Protoss's crimson eyes were now fixed solely upon Augustus.
"When your human ancestors first set foot among the stars, I was already the mightiest of Tal'darim warriors. In our eyes, your civilization was as childish as an infant. When the core flames of our ships illuminated the stars, your kind were still playing with mud on the ground, tinkering with crude tools, fashioning slings from tree branches."
"Your understanding of the Tal'darim surpasses that of your own kind—I cannot comprehend it," he said, staring at Augustus.
"Even a long-lived species cannot know all that is past and present," Augustus replied. "Humanity may be young in the Koprulu Sector, even within the galaxy—but we know the power of fire. Compared to you, at least we possess the teeth and claws you envy. Not to mention the difference between our races—at least here on Bel'Shir, our army is far stronger than yours."
"For you, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I don't believe a Tal'darim Protoss confined within powered armor has any kind of future left." Augustus continued, "I'm wasting my breath only to give you the chance to choose."
"I don't believe your heartless kin or your brutal overlords are worth your dying loyalty," he said.
"If you can provide us with information about the Tal'darim presence on Bel'Shir—such as the locations of surface cities or any other intelligence—I can guarantee that even if your own kind despise you, humanity will still treat you as an honored guest."
"Oh—perhaps with that pitiful brain capacity of yours, you cannot comprehend it. A man does not care whether ants regard him as a god." The Tal'darim spoke after a brief silence.
"…You think my patience is limitless?" Augustus only showed anger when he deemed it necessary. "Then let me tell you what I'll do if you refuse to cooperate. I harbor no mercy toward an alien species that has slaughtered my people."
"I'll send you to the alien research labs and have my psionics extract your secrets through the most excruciating means possible—until you speak the truth. Then you'll become a living specimen for experimentation. Your torment will last as long as your lifespan allows."
"…You're right," the Tal'darim Protoss said after glimpsing his own fate within Augustus's mind. "Ever since being forced into that damned mech, I've had no future left. I can no longer take part in the Rak'Shir ritual, and I've lost the qualification to ascend as an Ascendant."
"Even the Tal'darim lords' slaves look down upon the Tal'darim among the Dragoons—we are the lowest of the low."
"I know the locations of several outposts," the Tal'darim Protoss said. "But I can't be sure whether the warriors stationed there have already withdrawn."
"Guards, the map," Augustus ordered with a wave of his hand, stepping closer to the bed until he stood barely a step away from the Tal'darim Protoss.
A Revolutionary Army soldier clad in deep crimson powered armor handed over a holographic projector. As the soldier pressed a metal-clad finger against the activator, a holographic image of a green planet instantly flickered into view.
These three-dimensional images were scanned by the Revolutionary Army's fleet and unmanned reconnaissance drones stationed in synchronous and low orbit, capable of mapping every jungle and rock on Bel'Shir with precision.
The Tal'darim Protoss glanced at the holographic projection of the planet Bel'Shir. For him, using human instruments was no difficulty at all—the Protoss possessed similar devices, far more advanced than these.
He extended his only remaining hand toward the map formed by the pure green holographic light. The projection instantly expanded until it covered half the intensive care unit, then continued to contract as the Tal'darim's finger moved across it, finally stopping at the planet's shadowed hemisphere—the side opposite Augustus's current location, still shrouded in night.
"I only remember a few of the outposts I've been to," the Tal'darim Protoss said. "Each Altar of the Creator's Breath is different—but I should still remember them."
As he spoke, the Tal'darim Protoss marked several points on the expanded map, even indicating with his sharp-nailed finger the possible number of stationed troops.
"How many Tal'darim are there on Bel'Shir in total?" Augustus asked again.
"Roughly between five thousand and fifteen thousand. We have three carriers and over a hundred transport ships," the Tal'darim Protoss said as he handed the holographic projector back to the soldier.
"A bit fewer than I expected," Augustus nodded and turned to Kerrigan beside him.
"Inform the General Staff—I want a new operations meeting convened in two hours."
"Planets like Bel'Shir—how many more do you have? And those cylindrical warships that appeared over Bel'Shir earlier—how many of those do you possess?"
"Countless," the Tal'darim said. "Our reach spans the galaxy. The Death Fleets of Slayn could easily annihilate your wrecks floating above Bel'Shir."
"But as far as I know, you're merely a fragment of a much larger fleet," Augustus replied with a faint smile after the Protoss finished speaking.
"Put away your arrogance—it usually walks hand in hand with ignorance and stupidity," he said, openly scorning the Tal'darim's pride.
"Tell me, how much do you truly know about humanity?"
"When human ships first appeared within our sight, we began observing this young species," the Tal'darim Protoss said. "There have been many such races throughout the long river of history—some perished in civil war, others vanished before ever reaching the interstellar age. Humanity is no different. You are cunning and greedy, backward and ignorant."
"Human worlds lie too far from our territory. The Highlords of Slayn strictly forbid us from contacting humans, because the destruction of a weak species would inevitably draw the attention of our detestable kin, the Protoss of Aiur. Of course, we do not fear them—it is simply for the sake of a grander plan."
"A plan?" Augustus asked. "What plan?"
"To conquer the entire universe," the Tal'darim Protoss said with utter confidence, as if it were an unquestionable truth.
"…Truly an ambitious goal—though I have one more question," Augustus said with a nod, offering his assessment. He still had a Terran Confederacy to deal with, and no time to concern himself with the Tal'darim.
"What is Aiur?"
"Our kin upon the planet Aiur. They are obsessed with their ornate golden armor—vain and cowardly," the Tal'darim Protoss said. "Compared to them, the Nerazim Protoss of Shakuras are like rats in the gutter. Invisibility and stealth are the tactics of cowards."
"All right, I understand roughly," Augustus said, then asked again, "Do you know Aiur's coordinates?"
"I do not," the Tal'darim Protoss replied immediately. "Although our ancestors originated from Aiur, that was long ago. Now, perhaps only the Highlords know the precise coordinates."
"And why do you seek Aiur's coordinates? The Protoss of Aiur believe they have hidden themselves well—that is a secret."
"I'm merely curious," Augustus said. "But surely you must know the coordinates of Slayn—or perhaps you know more about the fragments of the Xel'Naga artifact."
"If you do not, then tell me who does."
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