Shadow of the Xel'Naga, page 14
If only she could understand what the strange mental presence was trying to tell her. She felt it was something deeply important. The answers were waiting . . . if only she could get out of here.
Later, as night fell, the colonists went back to their crowded homes. Some of them shared dwellings now to accommodate the Marines stationed there. Some just wanted the comfort of more people.
Octavia, though, waited outside in the shadows, looking for her chance to sneak past the Terran soldiers.
Despite their grumbling at the repressive orders of General Duke, few of the colonists would want to slip past the defensive perimeter, especially at night. The Marines would be looking for a Zerg attack coming toward the town. Nobody would be watching closely for someone like her, a single young woman creeping past the boundary, skirting the new Missile Turrets and dashing out into the night. Even if General Duke discovered that she was trying to go into the forbidden areas, he probably wouldn't deem it worth the effort to protect her against her wishes.
At the moment, Octavia did not fear the Zerg. Their attack had been open and blatant. She sensed they would not crouch behind rocks in the darkness, hoping to snatch up one or two helpless victims like herself. Judging by the seismic traces of the major battle occurring at the artifact, the Zerg and the Protoss both had more pressing concerns.
As soon as she had accepted the tugging in her mind and moved in response to it, the call became clearer. Octavia moved across the ground, knowing this could be a trap. The mental beckoning could be a siren song luring her to her death. But she didn't think so. Why would their enemies bother? A simple colonist like her was meaningless, irrelevant to any objective the three opposing forces might have.
She hurried up the street, feeling the taut muscles in her calves and thighs. She'd been through so much stress in the past few days, had eaten little and slept even less. Even so, her body felt fully aware, fine-tuned as if the constant flow of adrenaline had given her all the nourishment she needed.
The Terran military guards did not notice her as she sneaked past. The fence did not stop her. As she jogged across the rocky ground, she was most concerned about the scattered spider-mines the Vultures had planted. But those devices had been set up to detect large enemy forces, heavy ground vehicles, or creatures. She hoped—prayed—that one young female tiptoeing through the chewed-up fields would go completely unnoticed by their sensor net.
Still, she ran as fast as she could.
CHAPTER 32
DESPITE ITS CLOSE QUARTERS AND CONVOLUTED passageways, the interior of the Xel'Naga artifact was as much a battlefield as the barren valley outside.
Directed by the Overlords of Kukulkan Brood, Zerg minions had split off from the main swarm and battled their way through Protoss defenders. The monsters entered the maze of wormwood passages within the greenish biopolymer walls.
Protoss Zealots were sent on vigorous suicide missions by Judicator Amdor while Executor Koronis bravely directed his ground troops in the main battle. Meanwhile, the surviving members of the Terran commando squadron led by Lieutenant Scott pushed their way through the passages, taking images and recording intelligence data so that they could return and provide General Duke with all the tactical information he might need.
During his years of training in the Marines, Scott had learned to assess a situation with just a glance. Now, the lieutenant kept his instincts and senses tuned to their highest pitch, hour after hour. He hoped his squadron would sustain no further casualties, but knew that was a faint hope.
Although they were deep within unexplored and mysterious territory, surrounded by hostile aliens, they were still members of Alpha Squadron. Their motto had always been “First in and first out,” and they had willingly accepted their assignment. Being nervous and jumpy wouldn't make them any more efficient, and Scott didn't want his men to act like . . . colonists.
The Goliaths bent low, barely fitting through the corridors as they clomped forward, weapons fully charged and ready to fire. The walls of this strange construction were studded with jewels, pointed crystals, and glowing inclusions. In all his years of service on numerous Confederacy planets, Lieutenant Scott had seen plenty of odd environments and mind-numbingly strange life-forms. But he had never been anyplace like this before.
With the Goliaths in the lead, the team rounded a weird rippled corner and suddenly encountered a group of Zerg already hissing and raising their spiny exoskeletons in an attack posture. Six lizardlike Zerglings bounded forward, followed immediately by a lurching Hydralisk that bowed its carapace and extended clawed hands.
Lieutenant Scott didn't hesitate. “Open fire!”
His men were ready for the order. The Firebats rushed into the lead and opened up their Perdition flamethrowers. Gouts of fire scorched the leaping Zerglings, turning them into flailing fireballs as they sprang, only to crash into the curved walls, leaving a smear of smoking organic residue.
The Goliaths launched heavy firepower of their own, using their twin autocannons to cut down the Hydralisk as it shot its volley of poisonous spines.
Three more Marines—now no more than bloody pincushions wearing uniforms—sprawled dead. Others ran forward, howling for revenge, opening up their Gauss rifles, screaming. Lieutenant Scott raised his weapon to his armor-padded shoulder and joined the battle.
While their fury was expended on the Zerglings and the Hydralisk, more alien enemies moved in from behind. Through one of the slick passages came a monstrous Ultralisk, a mammoth-sized beast with bony scythes that slashed from side to side, chopping through two Firebats as they turned around and opened fire at it. The blast of flame didn't even make the Ultralisk pause. It lumbered forward, an unstoppable juggernaut that attacked and crushed the Terran opponents.
“Defensive semicircle,” Scott shouted. “Now!”
The Marines unloaded hundreds of rounds, never backing away a step. The two remaining Goliaths, their clanking armor partially damaged by Hydralisk spines, expended their high-caliber ammunition into the Ultralisk's tough hide. The Firebats moved into range and unleashed their flamethrowers.
In a rampage, the smoking and bleeding Ultralisk stampeded forward, heedless of the cost to its own body. The beast swung the sharp, bonelike scythes that protruded from its back and slashed the three surviving Firebats, one by one.
One of the last Goliaths hammered the creature, firing and firing with his autocannons at point-blank range. And yet, even as the powerful blasts tore a huge hole in its body core, the mammoth Zerg slashed through the body-tank armor and broke the Goliath to pieces.
Lieutenant Scott watched his team being decimated, but he did not call for a retreat. He continued to pump rounds into the Ultralisk as it turned toward the final, damaged Goliath. But the powerful armored trooper and the last five Marines poured weapons fire into the lumbering hulk until finally the monster dropped in a heap, crushing one of the wounded and moaning Marines on the floor.
New silence sounded like thunder around them, and Scott stared in amazement at what had just happened. He drew a deep breath, forcing his fear away, and called on every scrap of self-confidence and training he had left. He paused just a moment to clear his mind and make his decision before his few soldiers could succumb to shock.
“Forward,” he said, and did not look at his fallen troops.
Taking the lead, Lieutenant Scott marched down the strange corridor. He had orders to see what was at the bottom of this bizarre alien object.
But he was sure this mission would only get harder as he and the remnants of his commando force continued deeper inside.
CHAPTER 33
OCTAVIA HERSELF BARELY UNDERSTOOD WHERE SHE was headed. Something was calling her, drawing her. In spite of herself, she followed. The presence was alien, yes. Yet somehow she felt she could trust it—had to trust it.
And so, as the darkness deepened, she walked as if in a trance. She crossed the charred and trampled fields, the ground churned by thundering Zerg claws and tentacles. Thin trees in an orchard lay strewn about like kindling, trunks shredded by angry Hydralisks and Ultralisks.
Broken pieces of Zerg minions lay strewn about, severed limbs like legs torn from giant insects, jagged fragments of hard carapaces, even a few gutted Zergling bodies, though the monstrous minions had turned on and devoured most of their wounded. Foamy slime had seeped into the ground, leaving sticky patches of mud; some spots had already dried as hard as cement.
It took her several hours to reach an isolated mineral station in the foothills—the source of the urgent psychic plea. She stepped up, looking around, but the darkness was too great around her. Thin gauzy clouds had once again choked off the stars.
Octavia came to a rocky hill about two hundred meters high. This was the place! She climbed it slowly, steadily, picking her way over boulders, until she reached a huge sharp slab of rock jutting up from the ground like a gigantic ax blade chopping its way free of the dirt.
There she stopped. The mental voice had called her to this spot, but she saw no one—at first.
“All right, I'm here,” Octavia said out loud, not knowing whether the alien presence could comprehend her language. “What do you want?” She needed to know if this stranger could help her, if it could give the settlers some way to fight off this three-way invasion—Zerg, Protoss, and even the Terran military.
Suddenly a surprised voice spoke clearly in her mind. But Terrans have no psi powers.
“No, we don't,” Octavia answered, still aloud.
I'm glad you have come, the voice said.
Then a tall, gray-skinned creature stepped out from around the ax-blade slab of rock to get a good look at Octavia. Octavia looked back.
The face had blazing eyes but no mouth, simply bony plates that somehow gave it a superior presence. Octavia sensed that this creature was female, most likely one of the Protoss aliens, but not part of the alien military forces that had landed in the far valley.
“You called me,” Octavia said.
Yes . . .
“I'm Octavia Bren, a colonist. Who are you and why did you call me?”
My name is Xerana. I am a Dark Templar of the Protoss. I have studied the signal that was sent, and I believe I know its origin. I have come to bring a warning—
“Really?” Octavia cut in. “Well, your warning's a bit late. That artifact of yours already killed my brother. Hundreds of people in my town have been killed by the Zerg.”
Although she could not read the change of expression on the face of this alien named Xerana, Octavia thought she detected a tone of surprise in the Dark Templar's thought-speech. Truly? Your brother was . . . absorbed? Xerana tilted her head and leaned forward as if to study Octavia more closely. But it would have no use for Terrans. You are not a part of this.
Octavia clenched her teeth. “Well, I became a part of it when that thing disintegrated my brother.”
Ah. The voice was like a breath in her mind. I did not anticipate this.
Octavia raised her eyebrows. “You didn't anticipate a Terran answering your call, either.”
Xerana's voice in Octavia's mind grew even more agitated. I knew that my mission here would be difficult. I have come to save my people, despite their ambitions and their ignorance. When I arrived on your planet, I reached out with my mind, searching for an ally, and found one. I called out, but I did not expect that you would answer.
Octavia marveled for a moment at the idea that she and this alien being who was so unlike herself might actually become allies, that they might share common goals.
“If you're here to save the lives of your people, and if you can help me save the lives of mine, then I am your ally. I'll do anything I can to help you.” Octavia looked behind her, toward the valley where the frightened people of Free Haven huddled in the darkness, dreading another attack.
We are agreed, then. We will help one another. You must believe me when I tell you that the artifact will not attempt to harm humans unless they attempt to harm it first. It is a danger only to Protoss and Zerg, the children of the Xel'Naga. Octavia thought she detected a hint of sadness in the mind voice here.
A night bird flew overhead, hooting as it swooped down to snatch a blacklizard from where it prowled across a flat rock. Octavia flinched, but the bird flew off with its squirming, struggling prey. The indigenous animals of Bhekar Ro had no interest in the conflict between the three powerful races.
“So, what will you do?” she asked.
I will go to the artifact.
Octavia said, “There's another . . . presence there. I sensed it, sort of the same way I sensed you calling me.”
The artifact spoke to you?
“Not with words. Not as you're doing. Just with feelings. But there's definitely something there. A computer? A mind? A recorded signal? I don't know. Just be careful.”
Xerana tilted her head again and looked at Octavia from an odd angle. You are indeed an unexpected Terran, Octavia. Thank you for your concern. She stood, her long scholar's sash flapping in the light breeze. A thin tablet with strange markings adorned her wide collar. But my life may already be forfeit. I am compelled to tell the other Protoss that they must beware. If I knew of a way, I would even warn the Zerg Overlords, but I doubt I could communicate directly. I must go to the artifact and command all of them to leave it. Alas, I doubt that they will listen.
And you, in turn, must persuade your Terran military that this is not their fight.
Thinking of General Duke, Octavia said, “I doubt I could get anyone to listen either. But what about the artifact? We can't avoid it forever. As long as it's here on Bhekar Ro, won't there still be a danger?”
One way or another, the artifact will be gone from your planet within a few days, Xerana said. Until that time comes, we must both do our best to keep our people safe. With that, the Dark Templar turned and vanished from sight. She just . . . winked out of view.
Octavia stood still in amazement for a moment. Then she called out, not with her voice this time, but with her mind. Xerana?
Yes?
It's good to have an ally.
CHAPTER 34
WITH FREE HAVEN'S PERIMETER DEFENSES IN place, General Edmund Duke felt he had done all that was necessary to keep the civilian settlers safe. The previous day, his first infiltration crew had gone inside the alien artifact, led by Lieutenant Scott. Now Duke prepared for a full military assault.
It was time for Alpha Squadron to strut its stuff.
He mobilized his Battlecruisers, Wraiths, Dropships, Arclite Siege Tanks, all of the ground forces, even Vulture Hover Bikes. The general decided to hold nothing back. He hoped he could simply charge into the fray and mop up nicely, now that the Protoss and Zerg had weakened each other's forces.
Ordering his troops to move out, Duke himself remained at the command center in the mayor's former house. Scratching his chin, he watched the reconnaissance images as his forces crossed the boundary line of foothills and plunged into the beleaguered valley battlefield.
The assault began with a phalanx of Marines and Firebats who entered the middle of the war zone, flanked by the awesome power of Alpha Squadron's Siege Tanks. The tanks did not waste time by going into siege mode, which would have allowed them to use shock cannons for long-range attacks. Instead, the tanks simply pounded any aliens that moved.
Pushing forward relentlessly, the Marines and Firebats swept aside all enemy resistance, sliding through the combat area like a hot knife through congealed salt-pudding. The Terran ground troops picked up speed, pushing forward with enthusiasm, glad to leave behind their long and boring tour of duty, during which they had done little but map out abandoned worlds and survey asteroid belts for resources. The men of Alpha Squadron had been eager to do some damage to the alien scum.
Watching via view-screen, General Duke clapped his hands in exhilaration. A knock came at his door, and one of the low-ranking Marine guards let the civilian Octavia Bren enter. The general took one look at the young settler and said, “Can't you see I'm busy, girl? I'm directing a battle here.”
“Yes, General. But I've got some information you might need to know.”
He frowned, not sure that this dirt-scraper could possibly have learned anything that his own people hadn't already uncovered. Impatiently he gestured her inside, but turned back to watch the battle.
The progress of the front-line troops had left what appeared to be an irreparable hole in the Protoss and Zerg defenses, but the general soon saw that this was a grave miscalculation, that his excitement was a bit premature.
“No, no!” he yelled at the screen, watching the Marines and the Firebats advance so quickly that the ground support at the Siege Tanks and the heavy armored Goliaths could not keep up.
Duke grabbed his communications intercom and shouted into it, hoping that his orders would be heard through the cacophony of ground combat. “Close up ranks! Fall back to the protection of—”
Spiderlike Protoss Dragoons marched over rocky hillocks, approaching the rear of the exposed ground troops. In front of them, fiery-eyed Zealots powered up their destructive Psionic Blades and charged toward the Marines, trapping the ground troops. Dragoons and Zealots fell upon the Marines and Firebats from three different directions. Even though flamethrowers and Gauss rifles sent a blizzard of destruction into the air, the Protoss fanatics did not stop. Dragoons mowed down the Terran infantry, and Zealots waded in among them, slashing right and left, cutting the Firebats and then the Marines to ribbons.
“Get them some air cover! Air cover!” Duke shouted.
Belatedly, the fast Wraiths streaked in, attacking from above, followed by the slower heavy Battlecruisers that closed in from behind.
The Marines and Firebats continued to dish out destruction in self-defense, but then one of the robed Protoss Templars climbed onto a pile of rocks. Raising his three-fingered hands to the sky, he summoned an awesome Psionic Storm that battered the Wraiths into confusion, slamming the single-man fighters together, driving several down to the ground as if they had been hit by a huge invisible flyswatter.
