"Sob… sob…"
The sound of sobbing shattered the eerie quiet in the bridge of the Norad III. A Navy officer of Alpha Squadron, one bearing the rank of Major, suddenly began to cry, tears pouring nonstop through the gaps of the fingers covering his cheeks.
He was a trusted officer personally sent by Augustus to take over part of Alpha Squadron's command authority and, to a certain extent, to marginalize and restrain Edmund Duke.
Like the most loyal and brave fighters of the Revolutionary Army, this Revolutionary Army Major was a Korhal-born pan-Terran revolutionary, fighting to overthrow the Terran Confederacy and bring welfare to all Terrans.
This Major had also once participated in the Defense of Korhal as an Army NCO of the Revolutionary Army. He had witnessed the destruction of Korhal IV with his own eyes, and the scenes of that time had left an extremely deep impression and painful memories in the mind of this strong soldier. Such psychological trauma was common among those of Korhal descent, and now this phenomenon was very likely to appear among the people of Chau Sara as well.
"Drag that coward out! Drag him back to his quarters! Get him out of my sight!" Duke roared, enraged like a lion whose tail had been stepped on. He was not grieving for Chau Sara—he was simply furious at his own helplessness.
Of course, the Revolutionary Army officer who was crying did not suffer any rough treatment; he was merely supported out of the bridge by two Marines.
"Starboard turn. Engage main thrusters. Move to five, four, two," Duke shouted.
Under Duke's orders, the Norad III moved closer to Chau Sara again, but it still kept a considerable distance from the golden Protoss fleet, which had withdrawn from high orbit over Chau Sara and was regrouping near the moon.
"General." The communications link between the Norad III and the central command room of the Revolutionary Army base had never been cut. Augustus immediately spoke: "That wasn't his fault."
"Try sending a communication request to that Protoss fleet. See if we can establish a link with them." As the Norad III slowly advanced toward Chau Sara, Augustus said to Duke.
"We've been trying this whole time." Duke took a deep breath. "We even used the deciphered Tal'darim Protoss language, but we still haven't received any response."
"Those warships look like Tal'darim Protoss," Augustus said, "but in fact they are quite different in many respects."
The Revolutionary Army, which had once fought the Tal'darim, could find many astonishing similarities between these splendid gold-and-blue warships and the appearance of the Tal'darim warships on Bel'Shir. But if the former could be called a fusion of war and art, then the latter had pushed the aesthetics of slaughter to their absolute peak.
"Is this just Tal'darim Protoss painted a different color, or are they some distant relatives who really like gold?" Duke hated all Protoss, just as he disliked all non-Terran alien creatures.
"They don't take us seriously." Augustus stated in a calm tone a fact that, to him, was only natural. "The Protoss don't even care how many guns our warships carry. In their eyes, Terrans are merely a pitiful and weak species."
They then waited a few more minutes, trying to get a response from the Protoss fleet, but that direction remained silent.
"No response at all. They ignored every communications signal." Duke slammed a fist onto the console in front of him. "Maybe in their eyes we're just a bunch of squeaking rats."
"I'm worried their next target will be Mar Sara," Augustus said with slight unease.
"Do we still have any of our fleets nearby? Where is Omega Squadron?"
"None, Marshal—just us," Duke said. "Omega Squadron has been docked at the orbital base on the far side of the Sara system. They're still 'on vacation.'"
At the moment, the Revolutionary Army had only Duke's single battlecruiser and several attached vessels in the Sara system—left there under Augustus's orders when he led the main Revolutionary Army fleet away, tasking Duke with monitoring the situation in the Sara system.
At that moment, the Norad III completed a short jump, moving to the region between the outermost planet of the Sara system and Chau Sara, leaving it less than one astronomical unit from another Terran colony world in the system—Mar Sara. Instantly, the Norad III was closer both to the resplendent golden Protoss fleet and to the Chau Sara engulfed in flames.
"Scan Chau Sara. See what's happening there." Augustus issued another order to the Norad III.
"Reporting, Marshal," a technical officer immediately responded. "Preliminary scan results show no signs of life activity remaining on the surface of Chau Sara."
"The tens of millions of Zerg on Chau Sara are gone. Even the Jörmungandr brood has been reduced to ash."
"What about those Behemoths?" Augustus asked again.
"No sign of those massive Zerg bio-warships," the technical officer replied. "We have detected residual warp traces."
"Zerg Behemoths can warp just like our ships? How is that possible?" Duke did not believe it. "How do they enter a hyperspace lane—tentacles, wings, or those disgusting, oozing sacs?"
"Psionics," Augustus said.
"It can only be psionics."
"Keep a close watch on the movements of that Protoss fleet," Augustus said. "If the Protoss fleet responds to our communication request, patch them through to my channel immediately."
"Yes, sir."
"General, the Protoss fleet is moving again. God, they're heading straight for Mar Sara!" At that moment, a technician at the control console suddenly shouted.
"There are still several million people on Mar Sara!" a female officer aboard the Norad III screamed.
"Rally my fleet," Augustus decided instantly. "We cannot allow them to do that!"
Suddenly, the regrouped Protoss fleet moved once more. In illusory gold-and-blue flashes, the Protoss fleet warped—amid large-scale spatial distortion and spiraling flashes—into synchronous orbit over Mar Sara. It was unmistakably the beginning of a repeat of what they had done to Chau Sara.
Dozens of Terran Confederacy transport barges and space-junk reclamation ships still remained in synchronous orbit over Mar Sara, but they had all lost their original shine. Their hulls were covered in ugly violet-black veins, fleshy bio-growths, and pulsing vessels. Clearly, these ships had already been infested by the Jörmungandr brood, and the chance that anyone inside was still alive was vanishingly small.
The Terran vessels that happened to be between the Protoss fleet and the planet were instantly reduced to molten black slag under the Protoss warships' firepower. But to the crew of the Norad III, which was farther from Mar Sara, the Protoss were undoubtedly massacring their own fellow Terrans.
"It's only us now," General Duke paced two steps, repeating what he had said earlier. "We are the only ones left who can stop them."
There was only silence. All the crew members on the bridge awaited Duke's order.
"This is General Duke. Full speed ahead." After a dozen seconds or so, Duke gritted his teeth and gave the order on the command channel for the captains and commanders: "Once we enter launch range of the docks, deploy all of our Wraiths. All batteries prepare to open fire!"
"These alien bastards—how dare they do that right in front of me?"
The crew of the Norad III carried out this order—insane from any possible perspective—without hesitation. The dark-red-painted iron giant sailed in silence toward Mar Sara and the Protoss fleet.
"Do not underestimate the Terran, you alien bastards!" Duke said.
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