"Executor, a Terran vessel has been detected. It is a Behemoth-class battlecruiser, and its parameters have been uploaded to the Star Shuttle's star-array."
On the magnificent, resplendent bridge of the Protoss Expeditionary Fleet flagship—the Star Shuttle carrier, which had set out from the homeworld Aiur—Executor Tassadar, draped in the purple, black, and white ceremonial robes of a high-ranked Templar, was gazing at the holographic projection above the star-array.
On the golden bridge—adorned with beautiful precious metals, gemstones, and cerulean Khaydarin crystals—the gentle hum produced by the resonances of the crystals echoed like music. All Protoss clad in gold-and-blue ornate armor and white robes were bathed in the radiant starlight beyond the energy-shaped walls and in light spreading outward like crystal ripples.
Reflected within the Executor's ice-blue eyes—eyes that radiated light—an ash-red Terran battlecruiser with a hammerhead-shaped prow was advancing toward him at the highest speed it could reach.
Hundreds of rectangular and conical Terran warships and fighters tightly followed behind the flagship. The orange-red and blue exhaust trails of their thrusters looked like trembling, fragile points of light, as if they might be swallowed by the darkness of the cosmos at any moment.
"About to enter range."
At the control console inlaid with blue gemstones, a Protoss Templar reported to Executor Tassadar. Although he had no mouth or vocal organs, he could still produce speech. His voice carried a slight psionic resonance, as if he were speaking in a mountain stream where echoes could form.
"Lens calibration in progress."
"Is this a convoy carrying diplomats?"
Standing beside the silent Executor was a Protoss female wearing a white hooded robe. Her plain robe bore only a single Khaydarin crystal pendant, its hem trailing all the way to the floor. The long neural cords bound with golden ornaments were neatly gathered behind her back.
This was Zamara, Preserver of the Khalai lineage of Aiur. Her duty was to accompany Executor Tassadar—the Protoss Empire's most outstanding Executor of this era—and his Expeditionary Fleet ordered to purge all Zerg threats, recording the events of each campaign to enlighten those who would come after.
Although the Protoss were not mammals, the curves of their females' bodies—judged even by Terran eyes—were graceful and alluring, with smooth, delicate gray or blue skin and S-shaped contours of waist and hips.
"They have activated all of their weapon systems. This is not self-defense, because the Terrans are diverting the energy required for their shields into their weapons systems. This is an attack with unmistakable hostility," the Executor's adjutant replied.
Through the psionic link of the Khala—connected to the neuro-cords at the back of their heads—the Protoss on the bridge all understood at the same moment why the Terrans would do such a thing.
After witnessing the main cannon fire of the Protoss fleet when it destroyed Chau Sara, the Terran commander concluded that their warship shields were utterly useless. So he placed all his hopes on their laughable ballistic weapons and primitive energy weapons, staking everything on one desperate gamble.
Without a doubt, this was a suicidal attack. Even in simple comparison of warship numbers, the Protoss outmatched the Terrans by hundreds of times. The disparity between Protoss and Terrans was so overwhelming that the Protoss could look down upon this young species from a lofty height. In their eyes, the Terrans were nothing more than infants waving stones before a giant.
"Ignorance."
"A suicidal assault."
"The courage of insects."
Calm, emotionless voices echoed through the Star Shuttle's bridge. Perhaps in Terran eyes, their enormous steel leviathans were the pinnacle of their martial strength, but to the Protoss Empire they were nothing but piles of scrap metal—flies that could be crushed with a light slap.
"Executor, the Terran vessel has entered range. Shall we destroy it?" a Templar asked.
"They are the only Terran warship here—there is no one else."
Ever since the fleet arrived at Mar Sara, Tassadar had been deep in contemplation, still unwilling to carry out the Protoss Empire Conclave's order to destroy this orange-gray world.
"These Terrans have nowhere left to retreat, for behind them lies their home. If it were our world that stood on the brink of destruction, we too would charge forward without pause—throwing ourselves into the enemy's path, even if all we could do was block blades and cannon fire with our bodies."
"Such valiant warriors… such tragic sacrifice."
Meanwhile, a wave of respect and sorrow spread through the minds of all crew members via the Khala. The Executor's subordinates fully shared the grief he felt at this moment.
For a long time—ever since the Terrans first arrived in the Koprulu sector—the Protoss Empire had observed this young species. Their understanding of the Terrans went far beyond appearances. Protoss probes had even visited the Terran homeworld, Earth, and had witnessed humanity's Apollo moon landing.
As the Terrans of the Koprulu sector indulged in a self-satisfied solitude—believing themselves to be the only advanced intelligent species in the universe—they remained unaware that a pair of eyes had been watching them closely. Protoss scholars had observed this species constantly, watching Terrans slaughter one another, plunder planetary resources for the sake of development, and rise and fall through the cycles of their civilizations.
When Tassadar was over one hundred years old, the ancestors of the Terrans, the Kel-Morians, and the Umojans had only just begun to thrive and multiply on their respective homeworlds. He had watched this species gradually grow and flourish.
"It is over."
Tassadar calmly issued his command: "Enter the warp-field. Order the retreat."
"This Terran vessel is utterly insignificant. You should destroy this planet. It has been infested by the Zerg and is already beyond saving."
Preserver Zamara's voice was cold and resolute.
"If left unchecked, the Zerg will spread through the universe like a virus. This sector will become a diseased, decaying tissue within the body of the cosmos," she said.
"You were the first to discover the Zerg, Executor. You know we cannot stand idly by."
"All of this is for the Da'gu Doctrine. The Firstborn have always followed in the footsteps of the Xel'naga. We are the only rightful and just arbiters in this universe—the protectors of the weak races. We must eliminate the cosmic blight of the Zerg, or more species will face destruction."
"You know what I am thinking. I am retreating only because there are still many uninfected Terrans surviving on this planet," Executor Tassadar said. "Aside from planetary destruction, there may be other ways to resolve the Zerg threat."
"But the Conclave's order is…"
Light flickered in Zamara's pale-blue eyes.
"I will explain to the Conclave," Tassadar said.
"You will face the Conclave's reproach—and the heavy pressure that follows."
Although she held deep disagreement with Tassadar on this matter, Zamara still accepted the Executor's order.
Because the Khala—the psionic link that bound the thoughts of all Firstborn—allowed them to share feelings, to see matters from each other's perspective. Thus, most conflict and disagreement withered at the root, and hatred and suspicion dissolved before they could ferment into disaster.
---
I will post some extra Chapters in Patreon, you can check it out. >> patreon.com/TitoVillar
---