Deus Ex Lumina (take two)

[rhoenix]

The premise is different this time, as is who I'm going to be inflicting the Protoss on. All feedback is welcomed, though constructive helps the most.

= = =

Deus Ex Lumina: Chapter 1

= = =

Pacing the observation deck of his ship, the Narenas, Zeratul retraced his steps slowly for what was now the tenth time. The horrors he had just seen on the small moon of Char, hybrids of his people and the hated Zerg, with the enigmatic Samir Duran behind all of it. Zeratul shook his head slowly as he pondered the recent events.

For two and a half millenia, the Protoss people had stood proudly unassailable, acting as benevolent protectors for those not as advanced as they. For two millenia, the Dark Templar had wandered as outcasts, finally settling on Shakuras upon the shocking discovery of another Xel'Naga monument on that world - previously, Aiur had the only known monument created by the people that had shaped his race.

The arrival of the Terrans in this space, outcast from their own people to come to this region of the galaxy, but swiftly becoming a force to be accounted for complemented the arrival of the Zerg scourge. Since those two events, all the Protoss people had become outcasts, their homeworld taken, outlying colonies taken, leaving all the Protoss people, whether High-born Protoss or outcast Dark Protoss, as one people again.

But now, to discover that the events in recent history hinted to become paltry fireworks compared to what was to come disheartened him more. He tried not to think about the events on the Planet Char, where he had slain the Zerg Overmind with his shimmering, deadly Warp Blade - and the Overmind had connected with his mind for a few critical seconds. In that time, his deepest suspicions about what the Zerg were and where they had come from were confirmed. However, the Overmind had seen Aiur through his eyes, and had seen how to find the Protoss homeworld.

Zeratul stopped, shaking his head once again. There were few who knew about this, but the burden weighed heavily on his heart. It was his fault that all the Protoss had fallen to their present state - ignorance of what the Overmind was capable of or would do was no reason or excuse. It was because for a critical moment he had been taken off guard by the Overmind connecting so strongly with his mind that all Protoss were becoming a memory. The once mighty and proud Protoss had been laid low by the very "pestilence" the arrogant high-born Protoss once called "of negligable threat," and it was because of him, Zeratul considered darkly.

A voice whispered across his psionic communicator, coming from the bridge of the Nerenas, the craft that Zeratul considered his. It was a hybrid of the Corsair and Shuttle designs, able to carry a much larger complement, but had the speed and maneuverability almost as impressive as a Corsair. Nassine's voice was calm, though somewhat concerned. "Zeratul, we're now one half light minute from Shakuras, and have received no return hails or docking instructions. In fact, we're not receiving any response at all."

His eyebrow ridges narrowing, Zeratul began striding to the bridge, his military training allowing him to issue efficient orders, though his own thoughts were anything but. "Hail them again, raise the shields, and arm all weapons. Scan thoroughly for signals of any sort, especially Zerg."

Acknowledgement from the bridge crew reached him, even as he strode into the dimly-lit bridge. His astrogator and pilot, Nassine, was the second student he had trained in the ways of the Dark Templar - the first was Tassadar, Zeratul thought darkly. His gunner and engineer, Kessen, would have been woefully out of place on this ship only a year ago, for he was a High-born Templar. He had more than proven his capabilities however, even to the extent of learning the ways of the Dark Templar. Now though, he was shaking his head. "I'm not reading communication signals of any sort. What's more troubling is that the planet seems...far more quiet that it should be. I'm not detecting even the normal chatter of our people speaking to one another." With this, Kessen turned to look at Zeratul, his eyes narrowed in thought. "If I may offer an idea, Zeratul? We have ten Observer units still onboard the Narenas. They could be reconfigured for long-range, to give us a better idea of what may have happened."

Nodding once, Zeratul replied in the same half-telepathy, half-language common to all Protoss. "Assemble two Observers for long-range scanning, as you suggested. Launch them when ready."

Only half-hearing the efficient co-ordination between Nassine and Kessen as they readied the unmanned Observer craft that would act as this ship's senses close to Shakuras, Zeratul smiled somewhat at the two. A High-born and a Dark-born working together - both accomplished Templars, but both working in concert. Though Zeratul had accepted Nassine as his apprentice a few years ago, and both had only met Kessen since the fall of Aiur, he had proven himself as an intelligent, highly capable, driven, and tactful individual, displaying none of the usual High-born arrogance. The three, plus the few others who peopled this ship, had grown to be closer friends since the fall of Aiur, and since seeing the horrors most recently on the dark, uncharted moon of Char.

"Long-range Observers are assembled, and online now," Kessen stated. "Communications relay set to only include the ship. They're ready for launch."

Nodding once, Zeratul issued the order. "Launch them, and may they herald good news," Zeratul said, observing the planet on the viewer. Even the utter lack of ships moving about the atmosphere seemed to bode ill.

A few tense moments passed, as the Observers raced within scanning range of the planet, but the data came streaming back as they began an orbital scan. Three pairs of eyes narrowed as the data showed the wreckage of many Protoss ships and buildings, some still smoking. The Observers, at the command of the Narenas, dove into the atmosphere to begin closer-range scanning. Three minds emptied themselves of thought, the Protoss equivalent of holding one's breath in anticipation. Soon enough, the Observers reached range of the orbital defence cannons, which were notable now only in their lack of response. Soon, images and data of many bodies, buildings, and ships littered parts of the planet. All were Protoss. Relay Pylons everywhere had been destroyed, leaving the remaining functional buildings unpowered, including the orbital defence cannons.

None of them spoke for a few moments. "The Observers aren't detecting any traces of Zerg or Terran influence anywhere, only Protoss. I certainly hope this wasn't about Raszagal again," Nassine opined darkly.

"Take us down to the planet," Zeratul commanded. "We must look for survivors."

The ship smoothly began accellerating in the depths of space, moving with dramtically increasing speed toward Shakuras. Within a few minutes, the ship began to dive into the atmopshere of the lightless world, her powerful sensors confirming and expanding upon the Observers' readings. Zeratul felt his heart sink as he beheld the torn and smoking ships, the savaged buildings, but the unmoving bodies tore at him the most, even as he thought to himself despairingly. My once proud people, how far have we fallen?

Even so, the Narenas revealed a few traces of psionic activity, heralding promise of survivors. The ship swiftly turned, and raced toward the closest of the signs, revealing itself to be a shuttle, half-buried in the ground. The Narenas slowed to a stop, gently settling on the soil of Shakuras, with Zeratul, Nassine, Kessen, two Dark Archons, and a number of robotic Probes already racing from their ship to the downed shuttle.

The Probes moved large quantities of the dirt around and on the shuttle with great precision and efficiency, though the Protoss helping them work were strongly fighting their impatience. Soon enough however, the Probes managed to extract the craft without damaging it or its cargo, and opened the hatch for the shuttle.

With a rush of opaque gasses, the hatch opened. Moving with practiced ease, Kessen ran through the left side of the hatch, Nassine ran through the right, and Zeratul ran a half-pace behind them, directly into the center. All stopped when they saw what was within the shuttle, and stepped carefully around the bodies, some more intact than others. They came upon a single, living Protoss within the ship, who had part of a Dragoon armor on top of the body.

The heavy armor was quickly moved, and with assistance, the lone living figure within regained consciousness. He was dressed in Zealot combat armor, though the chestplate was crushed from the dead weight of the Dragoon lying on top of him. He looked around in confusion, before seeing Zeratul, Nassine, and Kessen. The Zealot nodded in respect to the three, though looked weary. "I am grateful to hear another voice aside from my own. I...had almost thought I was the last Protoss left alive."

Kessen helped the Zealot to his feet, using his own telekinesis to assist the warrior upright. The Zealot seemed somewhat surprised by this at first, though quickly set it out of his mind, as Zeratul had approached him. "I know you are harmed, but we must know all that has happened in our absence. When I and my crew departed Shakuras for Char, all was peaceful here."

The Zealot nodded, assisted back to the Narenas by Kessen and Nassine, both to assist him, and to watch him quite closely. The Zealot replied after a few moments of walking back to the ship. "Zeratul, I am Gerhain, and I am at your service for saving my life. I'm not even sure how this war happened. Quite suddenly, lines were being drawn, and both sides of the line blamed one another for atrocities both real and imagined. My ship was shot down en route to another battle zone, and I am unsure what happened after that."

All were silent for a few minutes, thinking about what had happened. Gerhain was assisted to the medical room, where Probes and the imposing Dark Archon Temeszan began to heal his wounds. Gerhain had never been treated by an Archon of any type for injury, and looked somewhat wide-eyed at the great ghostly Protoss form, glowing a dark red, swirling with darker bands of energies. Though showing some trepidation, Gerhain bore his treatment stoically. He was somewhat surprised that there were no scalpels or surgical equipment. However, he could feel his physiology changing slightly as Temeszan forced his body to heal itself, more efficiently using energy to do so. Gerhain felt himself growing incredibly tired - though he was still suspicious of the rather imposing figure of Temeszan, he felt himself falling into dreams.

As Gerhain was falling asleep, Nassine had detected more psionic signatures, and was directing the Narenas accordingly. After a few hours, they had circumnavigated the planet twice looking for survivors, and had not found many. All the survivors had been gathered in the ruins of the former capital city of Shakuras, informally named "Tassadar" by its residents in honor of the greatest hero of their time.

Survivors had been littered across the planet in small gatherings, with somewhat nervous technicians and scientists faring the best, as they had retreated into the relative safety of their labs when the civil war evidently began, though they still weren't very numerate.

Looking sadly at all the gathered survivors, numbering 657 left alive, out of a population of hundreds of thousands, Zeratul thought back to the prophesy he had heard from the Dragoon Taldarin, the only survivor old enough to have personally met some of their figures of history. Taldarin's battered body had been encased in Dragoon power armor, which had been found in the wreckage from some of the fighting. Taldarin had reached his rest at last, at the hands of his own people.

Shaking his head mournfully, he remembered the prophesy once more, word for word. "A dark land of ancient plateaus and oceans of night... Night becomes day, and our ancient fathers aid us... We erase that which blights our face, but not that which lies within... The land that rests in twilight will be the place of our greatest triumph and also our greatest shame."

He knew what the great triumph was - using the Khalis and Uraj crystals within the Xel'Naga temple to purge the Zerg utterly from Shakuras, the fabled planet with "oceans of night," an event which took place a scant three weeks ago. Now, the rest of the prophecy made a dark sort of sense. During the short time he had been away, the Protoss had nearly destroyed themselves in a much shorter, though no less bloody civil war.

Zeratul beheld the scattered, dirty, and still somewhat frightened and nervous survivors that had been gathered here. He kept his thought as his own, not wishing to project it and add to the despair his people felt. "So, this is our greatest shame. To destroy ourselves more efficently than any Zerg swarm or Terran strike could hope to. The once mighty and feared Protoss have fallen on their own blades. Is this truly how we fall from history's eye?"

[rhoenix]

I'm afraid this story will be on hold for the moment, owing to real-life distractions, and I hope to return to it at some point soon.

Basically, here was where I was going with this (this is partially to you, as readers, and to myself as writer's notes)

- As I'm writing it, the Kwa are the ones who dealt with a civil war in the millenia past - in the end, one side stayed on Dathomir and devolved into Kwi - the rest began travelling the galaxies in search of a race to be their successors. To the Protoss, they were called the Xel'Naga.

- Given a sufficient Plot Device, the the Protoss learn a bit of their origins, and decide to emigrate en masse to Dathomir, approximately 100 years following the end of the events in the movie Return of the Jedi.