Revelations (starcraft)

by Chris Metzen Thundergod

  A face loomed over him. It was human. He could see its mouth moving, speaking to him.

  “Where the hell am I?” Madrid asked. He saw other marines around him, some moving about the room and others sprawled on the floor.

  “Just lie back and rest easy, Sergeant. We’re under the command center. You’re safe here,” the young field medic said. “At least for a while.” Madrid was covered in both red and purple blood, and his power suit had been split open down the front. He could see that the medic had applied field dressings to his wounds and had stitched up a deep cut in his chest.

  “What’s wrong with me, boy? Why can’t I move?” he asked.

  A look of consternation crossed the medic’s face. “You were hit,” the medic told him, “by one of those things. I don’t know what it was, but your vitals are freaking out. As far as I can tell, there’s some kind of poison in your system, but I’ve never seen anything like it before. I injected you with a stim-pack, so you may experience a little anxiety.” With that, the medic was gone.

  Madrid tried to stand up. He felt the stim coursing through his system, tightening his muscles and making his scalp crawl. However, the artificial energy boost was no match for his pain and fatigue, so he slumped down heavily against the wall.

  The room appeared to be some kind of storage space. A few transport crates were stacked in the corner, but Madrid couldn’t make out the stenciled writing on their sides. The room has no windows or fixtures, just four steel-gray walls and a doorway. The medic was busy tending to injured men and others who just sat staring into space with glazed eyes. Marines ran back and forth through the hallway outside, occasionally entering the room to confer with men who were frantically speaking into portable com systems. Madrid couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  Too weak to move, all he could do was sit and wait. Death was coming. His rifle lay beside him, for all the use it was. His mind reeled. We’re doomed.

  What did we do to bring this on? Both of these races appeared and descended on our worlds like plagues. Fighting them is pointless. They’ll spread through the stars, taking planet after planet. Unyielding. Unstoppable. He saw the spindly aliens in his mind, spreading across entire galaxies, overwhelming everything, fulfilling their dread destiny.

  “No!” Madrid screamed as his body convulsed. What’s happening to me? I need to get out of here. They’re coming for me. He was trembling. He saw other wounded marines staring at him in detached sympathy. This is crazy. His fists were clenched, and he couldn’t stop grinding his teeth. If only I could get out there, he thought again. I’ll kill them all. Exterminate them. Nothing else matters. It is my destiny. We will sweep through the stars, driving the others before us. We will prosper. We are unyielding.

  Visions of marines being torn apart by deadly claws filled his mind. No, this is all wrong. I’m not thinking right. A coppery taste filled his mouth, and he felt a thin trickle of fluid drop down onto his chest. Blood. I’m dying, he thought. No, it is our enemies who will die. Death cannot stop us. That feeling came to him with complete certainty. The visions continued. Huge creatures leaped over the dead bodies of their brethren and pushed on towards the enemy.

  Those aren’t my thoughts, he realized with horror. He still sat in the same spot with his back against the cold wall. The sounds of gunfire echoed down the hall. Where are these thoughts coming from? He clasped his head in his hands and doubled over in pain. A sickening sensation crawled through his veins, from his stomach up to his brain. The backs of his eyeballs felt so hot they could melt.

  A flurry of bizarre images and impressions assaulted him. Two ominous thoughts stood out from the maddening din and shook him to the core. You are growing. You are mine.

  Madrid screamed until he ran out of breath.

  He felt another presence in his mind. What are you? He searched for it in his thoughts, but found nothing. Suddenly a horrifying image overtook him, eclipsing all else: a sprawling mass of living tissue pulsing with a dark, alien intelligence. Madrid reeled as he felt its sinister consciousness permeate his being. Although he had feeling throughout his body, he found himself unable—or perhaps not allowed—to move.

  Gunfire and screaming erupted in the hallway, ripping Madrid out of his trance. A number of marines backed into the room, firing their rifles into the hallway. The wounded men around him sat up in alarm as a group of aliens skittered into the room and tore into the defending marines. Everyone capable of movement grabbed a weapon and tried to fend off the invaders. The creatures flooded the room and overwhelmed the scrambling Terrans, tearing them to pieces. Madrid closed his eyes to shut out the sight of the carnage. Wet, slashing sounds and the tortured screams of the dying filled his ears until the fighting ceased and all that remained was a soft, humming vibration.

  Madrid opened his eyes to see two of the creatures staring straight at him, standing close enough that he could feel their hot breath as they sniffed him. Their black, menacing eyes were hooded by the flat carapace plates that adorned their bestial heads. Their muscular, catlike bodies were covered by tough, leathery skin, and long segmented tails stretched out behind them.

  Madrid closed his eyes and waited for the creatures to strike. But just as suddenly as they had appeared, they skittered out of the room, leaving him alone among the dead. Minutes stretched into hours as he sat in the dank corner, contemplating his fate and trying to shut out the luring whispers of the alien voice in his head.

  FINALLY THE ROOM’S SILENCE was broken by shrill screams echoing down the hallway. Madrid cowered, frozen in place and unable to pry his gaze from the entryway. He could hear scuffling and scratching noises in the hallway. Have they come back to kill me? he wondered. As his vision faded to red, he focused his thoughts towards the creatures scurrying in the hallway and briefly touched their bestial minds.

  Four creatures. All of them alien. All of them born of the same terrible species.

  Three small creatures, like those who had killed everyone else in the room, skittered through the hallway. However, a far more frightening creature accompanied them. This was a dark, clever beast, and Madrid reeled from its soulless presence.

  One small creature snaked its head around the door frame. The catlike alien stood there for a moment just staring into Madrid’s eyes. It scurried forward and cleared a path of entrance for its brethren. The two others entered the room slowly and took positions beside it. The creatures, seeming relaxed and almost playful, simply sat watching Madrid. What the hell do they want? It’s like they’re just waiting for me to die, he thought.

  Madrid’s breath came in short gasps as the fourth creature slowly approached the room’s entrance. He could hear the sound of its passing now—a resonant, serpentine hiss that could only come from a creature of enormous size. A scraping sound split the air as if sharp barbs were being dragged across the room and walls. The smaller aliens seemed to straighten and alertly shifted their attention towards the doorway.

  Madrid imagined he felt the stale air being sucked from the room as the huge, graceful creature entered. Filling the entire doorway, the monster opened its hideous, dagger-lined jaws and shattered the tense stillness with a ferocious scream, causing Madrid to shiver with quiet panic.

  The creature’s head and muzzle looked similar to those of the smaller aliens, except that its eyes held a glimmer of intelligence. Its long, craning neck was covered by a massive carapace plate that had a distinctive pattern, not unlike snake-skin. The armor plates covering its enormous upper body bore a variety of spikes and jagged growths. Madrid noticed a number of barely distinguishable fractures along the length of the creature’s flexing shoulder plates. As he ran his eyes over the creature’s grotesque body, he made out the long , spindly arms it held tightly at its sides. The arms, which ended in razor-sharp, bony scythes, looked as if they could tear apart a solid paristeel bulkhead with ease. The most bizarre aspect of the creature was that it supported the weight of its huge upper body with a thick, snakelike tail. Just as wi
th its plating, the tail was encrusted with spines and strange deformations. The creature’s horrid appearance reminded Madrid of the terrible dragons that had filled the myths of ancient Earth.

  He watched helplessly as the creature slithered slowly across the broken floor with an eerie grace. Thick, milky liquid dripped from the beast’s open jaws as it lowered its great crowned head until its eyes were even with Madrid’s. Its burning eyes bored into Madrid and locked him in their hypnotic stare. He could feel the creature’s hot, rancid breath upon his skin.

  Groaning through gritted teeth, Madrid was suddenly overwhelmed by the creature’s base musings. Harsh and unintelligible at first, unmistakable impressions raced like quicksilver through his mind.

  Unity…soon.

  Just then, an explosion rocked the room from outside. Dust rained down from the ceiling as the ground shifted under Madrid’s body. New, metallic sounds rang through the hallway.

  Someone’s coming, Madrid thought excitedly.

  He could hear heavy clomping, like the sound of two marines, nearing the room’s entrance. A ware of courage washed over Madrid, and he barely stifled a cry of joy as the two warriors appeared in the doorway. Then his blood suddenly ran cold as he saw the two silhouettes before him, and his hope of rescue disappeared as he realized these were two Protoss warriors.

  They stepped further into the room and glared at the four misshapen aliens. The dragon-creature squinted its hellish eyes and crouched in a defensive stance, while the three smaller aliens began circling the warriors slowly, preparing to strike.

  As the two Protoss squared off against the other aliens, Madrid gazed for the first time upon the beings whose ships had destroyed his homeworld, and whose forms he had seen only on holos before now. Their fierce eyes, which glowed like molten sapphires, were the only distinguishable features on their scaled faces. They had no mouths, ears, or noses, only a series of tribal-like, tattooed markings that ran along the harsh ridges of their cheekbones. Their heads were covered with a bonelike plating that bore a striking resemblance to the dragon-creature’s armored carapace. Long, sinewy appendages flowed out from underneath the warriors’ head plates and were fastened together like bands of thick hair that ran down their slightly hunched backs. Their long, armored legs were buckled backward at the knee, reminiscent of the cloven-hoofed devils of myth. Their strong, muscled bodies were covered by thin, wet, reptilian skin that was marked with the same strange tattoos as their faces.

  Madrid looked upon the Protoss with unabashed awe and terror. These were the destroyers of worlds. These were the executioners of man. These were the dark gods, who had come at last to claim his soul.

  The small, catlike aliens suddenly sprang at the two Protoss with their multiple talons and glistening fans bared. Within a fraction of a heartbeat, burning blades of azure energy sprang forth from the warriors’ gauntlets. With a blinding flash of blue fire, the first of the attacking aliens was cut down in midair by the Protoss’ swift attack. The other two aliens, surprised by the savagery of the strike, attempted to slow their advance and skittered around the warriors. Yet one of the Protoss gracefully leaped ahead of the second creature and tore through its skull with his fiery blades. The other Protoss warrior, stepping in to protect his comrade’s flank, outmaneuvered the third creature and split it in two with a powerful blow.

  The dragon-creature’s massive tail swept out and crashed into one of the warriors. Madrid watched in awe as the Protoss flew across the room and smashed into the far wall. Its limp body punched a hole through the paristeel plating, weakening the wall and causing more rubble to topple into the room from above.

  Without a second glance, the remaining warrior turned to confront the dragon-creature. Madrid’s eyes focused on the monster’s shoulder plates, which began to heave and swell. The tiny, hairline fractures expanded and split to reveal row upon row of sharp, finger-sized needles. With a massive surge of stale air and a flurry of sickly squirting noises, the dragon-creature flexed its torso muscles and let loose a volley of poisoned spines from its shoulders. The spines toward the warrior, yet the Protoss stood his ground without even a flinch as the speeding needles shattered against an invisible barrier before they reached him.

  Madrid was flabbergasted. Not one of the spines had even grazed the warrior’s body. He noticed a slight blur and an azure flicker around the form of the Protoss. The warrior seemed to be protected by some sort of energy field, but the blue light was twinkling as though the field might have been weakened. The dragon-creature seemed to consider its next move for a moment, then fired another volley at its enemy. Wit the grace and skills of an acrobat, the Protoss tumbled and leaped out of harm’s way, evading the spines as they tore through the reinforced wall behind him.

  The dragon-creature spun around, but was too slow to react as the warrior kept tumbling and then leaped upon its armored back. The creature flailed in protest, desperately trying to buck the Protoss from its body.

  Igniting his energy blades and pulling one of his arms back, the warrior seemed ready to separate the creature’s head from its neck—but suddenly, one of the creature’s scythelike arms swung around and skewered him through the midsection. Madrid saw a weak flash of blue as the last of the warrior’s shield energy dissipated. The stunned Protoss took a final desperate swing and severed the arm that was buried in its torso. Hissing in rage and pain, the creature drove its remaining arm into the warrior’s armored chest. The Protoss's body, wracked with violent spasms, went limp after a final, heaving shudder. The smoldering azure light in its glassy eyes slowly faded to blackness.

  Madrid was shocked by the battle’s outcome. Somehow he never imagined that the dragon-creature could actually defeat the Protoss. It didn’t seem real to him that the destroyers of worlds could bleed and die like other beings. He imagined that he could feel the furious pounding of the dragon-creature’s heart and taste the Protoss’s bitter blood on his lips. He relished the primal joy of the creature’s savage victory. This isn’t right… These aren’t my thoughts, he thought to himself, on the verge of panic. Yet, as the seconds ticked away, the rage inside him began to cool.

  In the wake of the fevered rush, Madrid could only stare in confusion, feeling tinges of remorse and disappointment at the warrior’s death. Although he found himself strangely invigorated by the warrior’s valiant efforts, he shrugged off the notion and coldly reminded himself that the warrior was a Protoss, and the Protoss were murderers. It was as simple as that. Yet, as he gazed again at the savage dragon-creature, Madrid began to doubt his understanding of the nature of murder.

  The wounded beast, visibly shuddering under its heavy carapace, attempted to slither toward the room’s exit. The creature abruptly stopped and turned back toward the far side of the room, sniffing at the air. Slowly, the Protoss warrior whom it had flung across the room rose from the rubble.

  The Protoss’s eyes scanned the room and came to rest upon the crumpled body of his comrade. The creature flexed its huge shoulders, and a hundred needles shot out at the warrior. The Protoss whirled at the sound of the expulsion and was showed by the tiny blades that tore his flesh and embedded themselves in his worn armor.

  Bleeding immediately from dozens of wounds, the warrior faltered slightly as the spines’ poison spread throughout his system. With grim resolve, he inched toward his enemy. The frayed dragon-creature, with no projectiles left, swung its remaining scythe-arm at the Protoss. The warrior blocked the clumsy attack and thrust his energy blade up into the beast’s soft underbelly. The creature screamed in agony as the Protoss worked his blade deeper into its shuddering body.

  Madrid winced as the creature’s thick, purple blood spattered around its body. His own blood surged and quickened, as if a presence inside of him could sense the creature’s pain and torment. Damn Protoss butcher, he thought bitterly.

  At last, the warrior extinguished the blade and pulled it out of the creature. Though it was mortally wounded, the creature continued to thrash and h
iss as it towered weakly above the Protoss. Taking hold of the creature’s splintered rib cage with both hands, the warrior gave a great heave and lifted its massive girth from the ground. Madrid marveled at the warrior’s strength as it flung the dragon-creature over his shoulder. The heavy body hit the floor with a wet smack and lay still.

  The warrior made a solemn, signing motion with his left hand, which Madrid surmised was either a salute or a curse. Though his body was battered, he struck a defiant pose that seemed meant to impress Madrid with his courage and valor. However, Madrid only glared at the victorious Protoss as if it had butchered an innocent child.

  The warrior’s gaze shifted and fell upon his fallen comrade. He walked over to the mutilated body and knelt beside it. Madrid, with beads of sweat running down his fevered face, strained to see what the warrior intended. Taking hold of one of the dragon-creature’s broken talons, the warrior placed it in his dead comrade’s hand.

  “EN TARO ADUN, KHAS IL’ADARE.” A voice boomed in Madrid’s head. Even though the Protoss made no audible sound, he knew it was the warrior’s voice, but he was unable to understand the Protoss language. A wave of nausea rushed over him as the alien poison caused his blood to roar in his ears. Whatever was inside him was reacting violently to the Protoss’s mental presence.

  What’s happening to me? he thought. Fearing that the Protoss could hear his thoughts as well, Madrid tried to clear his tortured mind, yet his will wasn’t strong enough to block out the power of the Protoss’s psyche. He watched as the warrior ceremoniously crossed his comrade’s arms over his chest plate. Madrid sensed that the warrior was overcome with grief over the loss of his comrade. The Protoss seemed to wince in pain as he continued to speak.