Looming like a grotesque mountain range above the province of Antioch, the central hive for the commanding cerebrate on Aiur stands in defiance on the once sacred grounds of the Protoss. The stench of rotting and decaying matter coats the surroundings like a vile shroud and the air is thick with the warm, moist heat emanating from the foul carpet of living matter. The Zerg cerebrate has been in place since the initial invasion of Aiur three years ago. It has taken perverse pleasure in the death and destruction that it has inflicted on this once beautiful planet and its former inhabitants. Having been bestowed the gift of near immortality, the creature knows nothing of fear and death except how to inflict it upon others; that is at least until today. The forces of the Protoss have staged a daring strike seeking to reclaim Aiur and have targeted the controlling cerebrate for destruction. Hundreds of Protoss warriors continue to flow like a relentless wave through a breach created in the walls of the living fortress. These sons and daughters of Aiur rush into the inner sanctum of the hive seeking to purge their planet of the Zerg presence. With its defenders unable to halt the frenzied assault by the Protoss, the cerebrate has at last come to understand the meaning of fear.
The leading warriors of the Protoss assault rush through the breach and find themselves in a place unlike few have every encountered before. The ground and walls are moist and pulsates with the evidence of an alien life. Strands of a membranous curtain of matter coat most of the walls and glistens with mineral deposits and some form of fluidic residue. The air is thick with moisture and the stench of vile fluids secreted by the foul Zerg threatens to overwhelm them. Along the many passages, the piercing cries of residing Zergs resound like a death knell and dare the invaders to advance into their home. Deep within the bowels of this fortress of darkness lies their target, the cerebrate. If the liberation of Aiur is to take place then the foul creature must be destroyed. It is a task that will prove to be far easier to state than to complete.
“Executor,” whispers a zealot, “where must we go now? Our forward scouts report that there are dozens of passages throughout the central chamber, most of them undoubtedly will lead us away from our prey.”
“We have no choice but to divide our forces and search them all then,” replies Nagol grimly.
“Divide our forces into hunting parties and make haste to locate the creature. Time is our enemy here. The cerebrate is undoubtedly calling other broods to its defense and our forces will not be able to stop the bulk when they arrive.”
“As you command Executor,” replies the warrior as he runs off to inform the others.
The sounds of the battle raging outside has intensified as the Zerg seek to expel the invaders to their home. Nagol feels the ground shake beneath him from the fury of the Zerg as they assault the perimeter defenders. He wonders grimly as to how long they can hold off the onslaught and if not, what will happen then. It is a thought that he does not wish to entertain. Through the breach in the walls, he spots Zeratul with several dark templars advancing towards him.
“Greetings noble Zeratul, it is good to see that you are well.”
“And to you as well Nagol,” replies Zeratul as he glances around at the surroundings. “What is the status of our forces?”
“Our forces have assembled in what appears to be the central chamber but we are faced with a multitude of passages. Most undoubtedly will lead to ambushes,” states Nagol gravely. “I have issued orders for our assault teams to divide into hunter packs. We must find the creature quickly.”
“Then allow us to speed your progress Executor,” replies Zeratul as his eyes flash with excitement. “Our energies are tuned to those of the cerebrates, we shall have no problem seeking out your prey.”
“Excellent my friend. Let us waste no further time discussing this matter. With each passing moment, more Zerg threaten to overwhelm our forces outside on the perimeter.” With that said both leaders rally their forces around them as the dark templars lead the way into the very heart of the fortress.
As Nagol rushes down a winding passage, he establishes a link with Artanis on the outside for a situation report on the battle. “Praetor Artanis, how goes the battle?”
“The battle does not go well for our forces Executor,” replies Artanis as muffled explosions are heard in the background. “More Zerg continue to advance on our forces in increasing numbers. We threaten to be overwhelmed soon.”
“We are moving on the creature now but we require that you continue to keep the Zerg reinforcements at bay.”
“We shall hold till the last warrior falls then Executor,” proclaims Artanis defiantly.
“Then may Adun and Tassadar go with you Praetor.”
“And with you as well Executor.” Artanis cuts his link as he throws his fighter over violently to evade the blasts from several passing Mutalisk. He lines up on one of his tormenters and lets loose a volley of missiles. He watches with satisfaction as the anti-matter missile slams into its target and detonates; blasted body parts and blood issue forth to rain down on the ground troops.
Everywhere he looks, the perimeter guards are heavily engaged with the Zerg. He glances to his right just as a trailing corsair is hammered by the repeated blasts of several Mutalisks and erupts into an expanding cloud of flaming red and orange wreckage. He shields his eyes from the brilliant explosion and blinks his eyes to clear the white spots. On the ground he spots several Reavers fire-balling from the attacks of the Zerg. Death and destruction cover the entire ground as the Zerg mindlessly seek to come to the aid of their cerebrate. He pulls his fighter up after strafing a group of advancing hydras just as a scarab zips towards them and explodes; the shredded remains of the hydras stain the soil red. With losses increasing with each passing moment, Artanis wonders grimly just how long they can hold.
“Our forces outside are not fairing well against the onslaught of the Zerg.”
“How bad is the situation,” asks Zeratul with concern in his tone.
“Bad enough. The perimeter guards are taking severe losses and more Zerg keep replacing those that have fallen,” says Nagol as he shakes his head in frustration. “We must destroy the creature quickly.”
“Fear not my friend, our goal is near,” states Zeratul as he gestures forward into the dark tunnel.
The Protoss warriors continue to advance down the foreboding pathway as they head deeper into the unknown. Patches of luminescent organic matter casts an eerie glow along the dark passage. The air is deadly quiet as the only sound heard is the humming of energy blades and the echoes of the Protoss advance. Soon the assault force happens upon a massive sealed organic entrance. The doorway appears alive as the opening shifts back and forth with slight movement.
“We have reached our goal Nagol,” states Zeratul. “I sense the cerebrate on the other side of this strange doorway.”
“Then we must hurry my friend,” urges Nagol. “Our forces outside can not hold for long.” Nagol gestures for the forward line to advance towards the doorway and pry the entrance open.
The leading warriors move forward to clear the entrance so that they may gain access to the chamber beyond. Suddenly a feeling of dread fills Zeratul as he recalls a distant memory. “Move away from the opening! It is a trap!” he screams.
The warriors react to the warning immediately but those nearby are too close. Dozens of tentacles detach from the surrounding walls and spear several unfortunate warriors. The doomed can merely gasp in surprise and pain from the sudden attack as the tentacles drain their life force from them. The maw of a bizarre worm-like creature covered with numerous bony plates now replaces where once there was merely a doorway. The creature surges forth from the opening seeking to feed upon more warriors. A fierce animalistic cry rattles the passage as the creature prepares to unleash its fury. The now lifeless victims are merely cast aside and slam against the walls as the tentacles lance outward. The Protoss fallback in disarray from the suddenness of the attack as yet more fall before the creature.
“What is this abomination Zeratul!” screams Nagol
“We have come across this beast once before when we destroyed a prior cerebrate,” replies Zeratul as he dodges a tentacle and slashes it. Brilliant green fluid erupts forth from the wound as the severed end drops to the ground and dissolves.
“It CAN see you!” asks Nagol incredulously.
“Unfortunately it can,” responds Zeratul with a grunt as he slashes yet another tentacle. “Our cloak is useless against this beast.”
“How do we destroy it!” screams Nagol as he rolls to evade several tentacles seeking victims to feast upon. “With each passing moment our chances for success diminish.”
“The beast will quickly recover from any wound inflicted on it so we must act quickly. We know of only one weak spot on the creature. It is located at the base of the skull behind the bone crest. But be wary, should even one of the tentacles make contact with you, your life force will be drained.”
“Our forces appear to be keeping the beast at bay but any attack on it will more than likely be heavy in losses,” observes Nagol. “Phantoms then as a distraction,” asks Nagol as his eyes flash with menace.
“Excellent idea my friend. My forces are at your disposal.”
Nagol’s eyes glow with intensity as energies build within him. He gestures toward the group of dark templars around him and their forms begin to shimmer with energy. Dozens of energy clouds begin to form and coalesce into corporeal forms; exact replicas of the targeted warriors.
“The creature is all yours my brethren. The cerebrate awaits us beyond.”
On command from Nagol, dozens of phantasms advance on the creature to cover the real threats. Given so many targets to choose from, the creature begins to lash out at the approaching forms with wild abandon. The real warriors swiftly move to attack under cover of the false mental projections. Zeratul closes the distance rapidly and leaps onto an outcropping of the wall as the other dark templars slash into the creature. The passage is suddenly filled with the wild cries of the beast as its body is slashed viciously. The ground shakes as the creature thrashes about and tries to kill its attackers. Dozens of tentacles arch forth, seeking to impale the templars. Most hit merely specters but some manage to find real targets. Several templars are speared by the offending appendages. One unfortunate templar catches a tentacle in his torso. A look of utter horror is on his face as it rams clean through him. The doomed templar writhes in agony as his internal fluids and organs are quickly drained from within him. Having seen enough of the carnage, with a fierce battle cry Zeratul leaps from his perch above the beast and aims his blades at the base of the skull. Aided by the momentum from his descent, his energy blades thrum loudly as they slash through the thick carapace. Flesh, bone and blood are boiled away as the blades cut deeply into the creature. With almost a mad zeal, Zeratul drives his blades viciously into the body of the beast. Green fluid sprays forth from the massive wound and coats everything it makes contact with. A massive shriek of pain fills the passage and threatens to bring the walls down. The creature tries desperately to slay its tormentor but it is too late. With one final motion, Zeratul drives his blades into the nerve cord and cleaves it in half. The creature spasms madly now that it’s nervous system is destroyed. Tentacles poised to strike now merely fall to the ground and the beast shudders its last breath as it dies. The surviving warriors breathe a collective sigh of relief and move to secure the passage. Nagol and others advance on the now still form of the beast.
“Is the creature destroyed?” asks Nagol as he eyes it cautiously.
“It is quite dead I assure you my friend,” replies Zeratul as he jams a blade into the corpse and slides down the side. A massive wound is left in his wake. “One more obstacle remains, the cerebrates personal guard, and the creature is ours.”
“Then let us hurry, we have little time to spare.” Nagol gestures for the others to follow him as they make their way around the dead beast and into the once protected corridor. Advancing swiftly down the dark passage, they spot a faint glow around a curve in the path.
“Proceed with caution my brethren,” warns Zeratul. “For many dangers could be lying in wait once we enter the chamber.”
Moving cautiously around the bend, the scouts edge their way forward to peer into the unknown. As a zealot is moving forward, he is pounced upon by a once hidden foe. A massive Hydralisk is now situated above the downed zealot and begins to tear into his form with an insane fury. The massive claws of the beast strike rapidly downward. The zealot’s shields glow brilliantly from the impacts as he struggles to fight off the beast. His energy blades tear into the beast but do little damage; the hide is too thick. Several zealots rush forward to aid their downed comrade and are instantly set upon by yet more Zerg. With a fierce battle cry, the Protoss surge forward into the chamber seeking to overwhelm the guards with sheer power. All around them, the sound of crumbling ground is heard as dozens of hidden Hydralisks spring forth to attack. Debris and matter showers everywhere as the ambush is revealed.
“Are these the guards you spoke of Zeratul?” asks Nagol as he gestures and unleashes a Psionic storm on a cluster of Zerg. Despite the massive energies that would normally kill such beasts, these Zerg appear to be only lightly harmed.
“These creatures are far more resilient,” comments Nagol with surprise in his tone.
“We have learned that they can only been killed by our blades,” grunts Zeratul as he finishes off one creature. “They are apparently tuned to the same energies as that of the cerebrates.”
The guards begin to fire madly at the invaders and the sounds of hundreds of spikes zipping through the air fills the chamber. Closing on the hydras despite the withering hail of fire, dozens of warriors charge the line, their shields glowing intensely, and attack. A violent melee battle erupts as the forces of the Protoss and the cerebrate clash in the chamber. Shrieks and cries of fury and pain fill the air and drown out the sounds of battle. Blades slash into the armored forms of the hydras as they in turn stab their attackers with their fierce claws. Despite their enhanced vitality, the numbers are with the Protoss this time. With the aid of the dark templars, the result is no longer in question. In the end, the chamber is filled with the shattered forms of friend and foe alike. The ground is tainted with the blood spilled from the killed and the air stinks of death. An open passage on the far side beckons the warriors onward. Advancing swiftly through the littered battlefield, the Protoss charge through the entrance and finally arrive at their goal.
The cerebrate is a mass of putrid flesh. It pulsates rhythmically with the energies instilled into its form from the ancient ones; the Xel’Naga. The foul stench of vile fluids secreted by the creature fills the air. The cerebrate’s gelatinous form normally quivers with movement but it is quivering for a different reason today. It knows its end is at hand.
The dark templars gathered aligned themselves against the creature. Their eyes glows brightly as they call upon their dark, cold energies to serve as a sword of light to rid the darkness that has occupied their home world for so long. Almost in unison, the templars physically brace themselves as massive energy beams erupt from their forms and focuses on Zeratul. Those same energies buildup within him until, with a brilliant flash of light, lance outward towards the foul creature. The massive energies stab into the very heart of the beast and tear its form apart. A fierce, piercing cry emits from the cerebrate as it feels the full fury of the Protoss. The very walls of the hive begin to darken and crumble as the power of cerebrate wanes. Dozens of energy bursts dance along the surface of the creature. Eventually, the energies within can no longer be contained and explode forth violently. The body of the cerebrate is surrounded by a massive, expanding wave of dark energy. The foul creature utters one final shriek of pain and then is reduced to ashes. The blast wave hits the Protoss and knocks them to the ground. Soon the energies dissipate as the Protoss slowly pick themselves up. Nishala extends a hand to help Zeratul up.
“We have done it Zeratul. The cerebrate is no more,” she proclaims.
“Yes,” replies Zeratul as he views the charred form of the cerebrate with contempt. “We have taken the first step into reclaiming our sacred home. Come Nishala, there is still much we must do.”
Zeratul and the surviving dark templars leave the blacked and burned out chamber and meet the other warriors waiting. “The deed is completed Nagol,” states Zeratul with satisfaction in his tone. “The creature is no more.”
“You have done well my friend but you and your forces must rest for a moment. I will check with Artanis on the status of the Zerg forces outside.” Nagol establishes a link with Artanis to check on the state of matters outside the hive.
“What is happening out there Praetor?”
“The Zerg seem to be completely lost and out of control,” replies Artanis with shock in his tone. “Although some of them seek to engage our forces, the vast majority seem more content to disregard us now.”
“The cerebrate on Aiur is no more Praetor. The Zerg have been reduced to little more than wild animals. You should have little difficulty clearing them now,” proclaims Nagol.
“In the name of Tassadar, we did it!” Everywhere Artanis looks he sees most of the Zerg forces wandering about aimlessly and in some cases, attacking one another. He can not help the feeling of great pride filling his soul at the grand accomplishment their forces have done today. He looks around as the remains of the perimeter guards sweep the remaining Zerg aside effortlessly. So enthralled is he by the great sight of victory that he fails to see the scourge rocketing towards him. The flying bomb-like creature rams into the side of his fighter and explodes violently.
Artanis barely has time to utter a cry for help as his fighter is blasted apart by the resulting impact. Flaming pieces spew forth from the damaged hull as alarms hoot insanely throughout his cockpit. “I’ve been hit Executor!” screams Artanis as he struggles to control his wild descent. “I can not control my craft!
Nagol and the remains of the assault teams finally emerge from the breach in the hive walls and gaze out on the landscape. Looking up they spot a scout, the hull burning badly as pieces fall off, nosing towards the ground. With a thunderous roar that rattles the very ground, the crippled fighter blazes past them. “Artanis!” screams Nagol in frustration as he helplessly watches the scout flip over and ram into the barren soil to explode in a shower of sparks.
Artanis, with his fighter crippled severely, tries to attempt a controlled crash. He looks to his side and spots the assault teams rushing forth from the hive. Grasping his controls tightly, he struggles to edge the nose of the damaged scout up to slow his descent. His descent rate decreases but a large portion of his wing shears off and he plummets rapidly towards the ground. The last thing he sees is his beloved home world before the world goes white around him and—
Nagol can barely control his rage. “There has been too much death today! I will not allow any more to take place if I can prevent it!” Gesturing to his side he orders that a search party be organized so that they may try to aid their fallen comrade if possible. A passing shuttle roars into place as Nagol and Zeratul move with haste to save their friend; they can only hope that it is not too late.
***
Elsewhere, two beings watch a dark wavery image with a growing fury. “It would appear that we no longer need the scouting broods to hunt for the Protoss. They have saved us the trouble.”
“As always Chazz, you have an uncanny ability for stating the obvious,” replies Kerrigan with a touch of sarcasm. “It would appear my choice of leaving Araq in place on Aiur was a mistake. Thanks to his blundering, the Protoss now have a stronghold in place.”
“He has paid for his lack of discipline with his life. Shall I ready your swarms my queen?”
“Yes,” commands Kerrigan as her eyes flash with anger. “Ready our forces here on Char to leave immediately. We must move on the Protoss now before more of their reinforcements arrive there. Once in their system, we can bring Araq’s former brood into our own. I sense that their numbers will be greatly needed.”
“It shall be as you command my queen.”
“And Chazz,” adds Kerrigan as her eyes flash intensely with a cold fury, “don’t fail me as Araq has!”
“Never my queen,” replies Chazz. “I live only to serve you.” With a single command, the swarm of the Zerg is driven into a raw fury. Flowing forth from the surface of the planet like a massive living wave, the Zergs gather above Char and await the opening of the portal. With massive crackles of pure energy, the portal spiral open and the Zerg surge forth towards the inevitable showdown on Aiur.
***
Unknown even to Kerrigan, these recent developments do not go unobserved. In orbit above a nearby moon, a miniscule cloaked satellite transmits the new events to a distant planet where several dark beings view the recent events with interest.
A deep, gravely voice comments on the images received. “The first-born have initiated conflict.”
“Yes, I was beginning to wonder as to their resolve.”
“Agreed, our plans can not continue unless they set matters into motion.”
“With the help of young Kerrigan to do our bidding without even knowing it, our plans with come to fruition very soon.”
Turning briefly to his side the first being asks a distant one a question. “How does the seeding process proceed.”
“All is in readiness now, the final forms are maturing at a greater rate. They will be ready when we need them.”
“And the dark templar you encountered?”
“The first-born merely considered our children an abomination. He will come to appreciate their greatness… they all will soon.”
With a nod of thanks, the beings return their gaze to the image as the last of the Zerg vanish into the portal. Events have been set in motion and soon, very soon, the galaxy shall reap the whirlwind.
