Talman Katar stood quietly in the wastes. The vast expanse of bluish rock and sand formed an eerie landscape that seemed indefinite to the eye and painted a portrait of a cold, empty, desolate world. Talman knew that this was far from the truth.
"Sir." a marine nervously murmured.
Talman looked over his shoulder at the Marine. "What is it?"
"We're ready to begin the assault on that colony now, sir," replied the Marine. "The troops are ready."
Talman sighed deeply. It seemed sometimes to him that all he did was kill. When he wasn't killing, he was ordering others to do the same. Now he would have to kill again. It didn't bother him, but it was tedious sometimes.
"All right then, let's go!" shouted Talman. Have to show enthusiasm, he thought, to keep their morale up.
The ground rumbled as the Siege Tank columns rolled into place on the plain. Marines, Firebats, and a few Medics marched smartly in rank, then broke lines to take positions behind a rock ridge. Talman loaded shells into his canister rifle, which he had modified himself for greater effectiveness, adding multiple chambers like a gauss rifle. His skills would be a model for his men to follow.
Talman stared at the Protoss camp. Tiny, robotic Probes milled about, anchoring beacons in place for warp rifts, harvesting minerals, and managing the Assimilators. Zealots stood around, looking ready for a fight any time. The occasional Dragoon scuttled by on its mechanical legs. Suddenly the air in front of him shimmered slightly.
Damn, he thought. They're watching us, let's do this. He pressed a button at his collar.
"Base, send in the Valkyries and Wraiths, we need support."
Sound crackled from the comlink. "Request is being fulfilled even as we speak. Look up."
Talman stared upwards. He glimpsed a flash of something in the sky, probably a cloaked Wraith. The Wraith fleet materialised before his eyes, Valkyries not far behind.
"Men, go now!"
Rumbles and groans came from the tanks as they planted themselves to the ground, cannons deploying. Shouts of "go, go, go!" came from the Marines as the infantry regiments rushed forward. Somehow the Protoss seemed less than amused.
"Here's what I think of your stupid toys, Protoss," gritted Talman. He pointed his rifle at the shimmer, then fired. A bluish explosion and a sound like videotape on rewind came forth. "Stupid Observers," he muttered.
The Protoss sprang into combat mode. Marines were cut to ribbons by Zealot psi blades. Medics rushed to try to heal the wounded soldiers, only to get blasted by Photon Cannons. The ground shook violently as the Siege Tank battery launched a heavy burst of fire at the Pylons powering the cannons. The targeted Pylon shattered, scattering shards of Khaydarin crystal like shrapnel from a fragmentation grenade.
Talman raced onto the field, gun blazing. "Eat this you Protoss bastards!" he shouted, voice laced with malice. Zealots fell before the rain of hot metal. Talman turned to see a Dragoon towering over him. The golden yellow legs flexed up and down. A voice came from the Dragoon without warning.
"Drop your weapon, you have 15 seconds to comply," rasped the Dragoon pilot.
"You're about to die, again," spat Talman. He worked a switch on his gun, and fired a long, whitish shell at the Dragoon. On contact, it exploded into a huge electromagnetic field, shutting down the Dragoon's electronic mechanisms. He stepped back just in time to avoid a ravaging blast from the Siege Tanks. The Dragoon's metal casing burst open like an overripe melon. Bluish blood and fluids showered outward in a vile rain, soaking the ground and blending in almost perfectly. The shell of the Dragoon sagged and collapsed to the ground.
The Wraith squadron unloaded a barrage of burst lasers at the remaining enemy ground forces. Zealots dropped, singed, to the ground. Marine gauss rifles spat metal spikes in a devastating hail over the battlefield. Halo rockets from the Valkyries ripped Scouts open like aluminum foil.
Talman pushed past a dying Zealot to survey the carnage from a better angle. As he watched, fields of energy stabilized in the area, in the shape of Dragoons, Zealots, Scouts, Reavers, Templar.
"They've got reinforcements!" Talman yelled into his comlink. A phase disrupter shot caught a nearby Marine from behind. His body convulsed and shook violently, as though he were having a seizure. Blood oozed from the scorched flesh, and he collapsed on the ground. Talman's rifle clicked as he reloaded. He pressed his cloaking device activator and vanished.
A Reaver inched by slowly. If the Protoss are so smart, thought Talman, why the hell did they make this huge behemoth of a weapon without any powerful engines and wheels? No, they decided to have the damn thing pull itself along with those little tooth-like things on the front. It's not going anywhere now, he mused, as he blasted it with a lockdown shell. Talman planted an explosive charge on the Reaver's side and stepped back, diving behind a clump of debris. He pressed a button on his belt and the charge detonated, which sent shrapnel and bits of metal flying throughout.
Talman engaged his cloaking device and slipped away from the chaos of combat. Suddenly he collided with. well, he couldn't see what he ran into. It hurt, though, kind of like running into a steel door. He spun, dazed. His eyes finally focused, and he stared coldly at the Protoss figure standing in front of him.
The Protoss glared at him, or at least, from where he had felt the impact. Talman's cloaked form was totally invisible to the warrior. Unless he moved, no trace that he was there existed.except for heavy breathing.
Talman studied the Protoss. He was of slight build compared to typical warriors that Talman had seen in holos before. He wore a dark cloak around his shoulders over his armour, and had some sort of energy blade affixed to his wrist. Then, as if he had never been there before at all, the Protoss warrior winked out of existence, invisible to Talman's eyes.
"Protoss warriors are using personal cloaking devices now?" Talman muttered quietly to himself. He trudged through the waste, surveying the carnage of battle. Marines and Firebats were smeared across the earth, bloodied combat suits of Protoss and Terran origin splayed over the field, Dragoon casings torn open like greasy paper bags littered the landscape. Without warning, Talman's cloaking device disengaged.
"Shit!" he growled. Without its systems, he'd have to rely on his wits and natural camouflage to escape the war zone. He turned to see a Protoss Templar standing not ten feet away.
The surprised Protoss was as startled to see Talman as Talman was to see him. Talman, however, reacted more quickly.
"Eat lead Protoss scum!" raged Talman. He pulled the trigger on his rifle. Hot metal shards spewed out and the chambers spun violently. Frag canisters sent hails of debris at the Templar.
Talman felt a voice in his head. "I will not be so easy to bring down, Terran." A burst of energy exploded from the Templar at Talman, striking him in the chest. The air rippled with psionic forces that threatened to tear Talman to pieces.
Can't win 'em all, thought Talman. He read the indicator on his wrist, pressed a button, and winked out of view. There was a Wraith fighter on the ground that had landed not far from his position. He sprinted off towards the fighter, hoping that it was still functional.it was his only hope of getting out alive.
Talman climbed into the Wraith cockpit and pushed the starter. The engines blared into life with a noise like an Ultralisk on a rampage. He pulled back on the stick and the retros fired, lifting the Wraith off the planet surface. Knobs were fiddled with, switches flipped, and the vehicle soared into the upper atmosphere in minutes.
"I'm out," wheezed Talman. "But now where do I go?"
