Twilight

CHAPTER 19

AS IF IT WERE FATE, ALTHOUGH ZERATUL WAS not certain he believed in such a fixed concept, the planet that Jacob had named "Pegasus" was located in the same sector as Ehlna. He realized that the dark templar had even visited the planet briefly in ages past, assessing and then dismissing it as of no real importance. Ah, if those earlier explorers of this world had only known.

Moving swiftly into orbit in the Void Seeker, Zeratul was glad of the closeness of his destination. Experienced as he was, he knew both the necessity of careful consideration and swift, decisive action. What burned inside him was neither. It was a strange sensation of urgency, almost anxiety, that sang in his blood now. Was it simply that finally, after too long spent brooding in isolation, he was again engaged in action? Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

Surely some of this sensation was due to the fact that Zamara had clung so tenaciously to life, of a sort; what she had to impart was vital indeed. Combined with what Zeratul already knew, it was logical to fear and to wish to do something, anything, quickly. But he wondered if it was more than that.

He took the ship through the atmosphere, his fingers moving lightly over the crystal that carried his mental instructions to the

vessel. A holographic image of Pegasus's surface appeared. It was exactly as it had appeared in Zamara and Jake's mind. There was the enormous rock formation, looking like a hooved beast with wings. And there—

The xel'naga temple. Zeratul forced himself to remain calm as he looked at it. He felt privileged in this moment, to behold such a thing. Luminous, glowing green, this was a wild temple, not a planned, structured, organized one such as the one on Shakuras. And yet Zeratul realized, temple indeed it was. Something marvelous and sacred and wonderful was to be found here.

He gazed at it a moment longer, drinking in the sight as he might absorb nutrients from the cosmos, and feeling as nourished by the act. Then he mentally directed the ship to move closer. He would land and approach on foot. Answers were here, he knew it in his bones. He would—

A bright white zigzag suddenly danced across the top of the temple, and with a thought Zeratul swerved away from it. What wasgoing on? From a distance he watched unblinking as the crack spread across the surface, which was glowing even brighter than it had before. Zeratul suddenly recalled Zamara sharing the story of her death with him and Jacob. She had crashed her vessel into such a temple—but one that was a dull green-brown, not this radiant, vibrant green. Zamara had known by the color that—

The energy creature. These temples were eggs—chrysalises. And Zeratul had arrived just in time to bear witness to the hatching of the being housed within. Perhaps that was what he had sensed—the urgency, the need to arrive soon before it was too late.

He watched, enraptured, as the surface of the temple-chrysalis seemed to bow, straining against the white zigzag crack. Suddenly, it shattered, and Zeratul stared at something that was as far beyond his ken as his people must have been to the humans upon first contact.

Beautiful. It was exquisitely, radiantly, gloriously beautiful. It burst through its shell as if propelled, this white, glowing entity of pure light and energy. It should have appeared hideous, displaying as it did tentacles, odd feathery wings, and enormous eyes that shone with a light so bright that Zeratul was forced to turn his head and close his own. But it was not hideous. It hovered over its discarded shell that even now was starting to dim and turn greenish brown, dancing in the air for a moment. Turning back to look at it through slitted eyes, Zeratul's spirit soared. It was powerful; it was potentially lethal, and if it turned its terrible, wonderful attention upon him and destroyed him now, he would die in happiness.

But the energy being, so new and fresh, had no concern for Zeratul. It hovered for a moment longer, then shot upward as if propelled, moving with a clear sense of purpose. For a precious second Zeratul was too startled to do anything, but he recovered swiftly and began to follow it.

Home.

More than something so simple, this moon was the site where Ulrezaj had first embraced his destiny. But like all things that birth one's fate, this world had a hold upon him, and he had returned many times ere now.

The unique manifestation of energies that had enabled Ulrezaj to begin his transformation, his becoming, had also necessitated that hereturn here when he was depleted. And so he had done over the last four years, a silent shadow slipping unnoticed into the deep waters of Ehlna's ocean, settling downward until the surface light faded to darkness, only to find brightness again in the illumination of a cluster of glowing crystals.

She was here already, the clever prey he hunted: somehow she had learned of Ehlna, of the Alys'aril, of the memories that could be housed here by means of research, skill, and intellect rather than a

disturbing accident of birth. How Zamara had learned of the site he neither knew nor cared. In the end, it did not matter. The freakish preserver and the uncountable memories not her own would die, and the secret would be safe.

If he could have closed his eyes in pleasure, he would have, at the sweet sensation of gathering strength and restoring himself. He would not be able to fully regain the energy that he had expended in the recent battle; he lacked the time. His enemies were right behind him. Ulrezaj knew well that it was not for him that the zerg had come, but for the same prey he himself sought. He could afford to linger only the barest amount of time, so that he could fight and destroy both Zamara and the zerg. Once that sweet goal had been achieved, then he could rest and enjoy the healing and peace a full restoration would bring.

But ah, it was good, to begin to shed the weakness as he had shed his physical form. He would enjoy this.

Thoughts were exchanged between the protoss so swiftly that Rosemary didn't even have time to process them on a conscious level, but she got the gist of it. The Alys'aril was pretty much defenseless, at least to her and Selendis's way of thinking. There was an energy shield that could be erected to protect the building and its precious contents from the devastation of weather or other environmental dangers, and in a pinch—which gosh, Rosemary supposed this was—the alysaar could augment the shield with their own mental abilities. Thoughts on how this would be accomplished were flying, and Rosemary winced from the speed and intensity of them.

"Who's attacking? What's going on?" Rosemary demanded, trying to get at something she could understand.

Selendis favored her with a quick glance. "Zerg." Rosemary swore. "Same crew we fought on Aiur?" "It appears to be, yes." "Can't you call for help through the Khala?"

"I have tried to do so. For some reason, I am unable to enter the Khala here." Her mental voice betrayed some of the strain and frustration she was feeling.

Several of the alysaar raced up to them, their robes fluttering as they ran. Terror poured off them, and their thoughts assaulted Rosemary: zerg, lots of them, and their leader wanted to speak to whoever was in charge.

Mohandar was obviously outraged; fury roiled off him so thick Rosemary could almost see it. "Zerg. Here. Our most sacred space." His eyes fell upon Rosemary, and there was accusation in that gaze. "You brought them here, human."

"We made the decision as a united people to come here, Mohandar," Selendis said. Her words were quiet, but firm. "Even you agreed, knowing what might happen."

Rosemary couldn't tell if Mohandar agreed. He had shuttered his thoughts from her, but she could tell he still seethed with anger.

"This is your world," Selendis continued quietly, permitting them all to hear the mental conversation. "Your people who are in danger. But I am the executor. With your permission, I will go to the zerg's leader and speak for all our people."

Mohandar composed himself with a visible effort. "Go," he said, surprising Rosemary and apparently also Selendis. "Razturul and I will see what can be done to protect this practically defenseless place. We will be in contact."

Selendis bowed and then began to race outside, to the courtyard that encircled the temple and the steep stone steps that led down from it. Rosemary followed her; Selendis did not protest. A heartbeat later, Vartanil followed them as well. Rosemary had to run flat out to keep up with Selendis's long strides, then came to an abrupt stop and swung her rifle up in a single smooth motion.

She had known there would be a lot of zerg, but here, pressed in so close around them and yet not attacking, there seemed to be an infinite number of them. But she had eyes only for one being—a humanoid, sitting astride what looked like an enormous flying serpent.

Ethan.

"Protoss!" came a strong masculine voice. Rosemary jerked as if stung. It was not a mental voice, not this time, and the sound of it shivered along her blood. "My queen does not desire your blood. We have come only for the preserver. Hand her over to us and we will leave you unharmed."

"Oh, come on," Rosemary retorted. "We didn't fall for that the last time; what makes you think we will now? There's no way in hell you'll just take what you want and go away."

Ethan turned and fixed his gaze on her, a slight smile, sickening in its familiarity, turning up his lips as he regarded her.

"Actually, I'm not lying, Trouble," Ethan drawled. "I really don't care about anyone or anything that is here. I've come for Zamara. And I will have her, one way or another."

Rosemary closed one eye and peered through the sight on the rifle in response. She tightened her finger on the trigger. If they were all going to perish here, at least she'd take Ethan down with her this time.

"No, Rosemary!" Selendis's mental shout was so powerful that Rosemary gasped slightly. "There may be another way."

Slowly, Rosemary lowered the weapon and shot a glance at Selendis. She stood straight and tall, holding out her hand, palm up, toward the hovering figure.

"I am Selendis, executor of the templar. And I tell you truly, if you attack this temple now, Zamara will perish!"

Ethan was silent for a moment. Rosemary looked at the thousands of unblinking zerg eyes riveted on her. "Go on," Ethan said at last. "And I will know if you are lying."

Rosemary wondered if that was true and thought it might be.

"Zamara's presence in Jacob's body is killing him," Selendis continued. "We are in the middle of a delicate attempt to extract her essence from him. If we succeed and can transfer Zamara's essence to a specially prepared crystal, both Jacob and Zamara's knowledge will survive. If you interrupt the ritual now, both will die and the information your queen seeks will be forever lost. I do not think you wish that."

Rosemary smothered a smirk. From Ethan's silence, he most certainly did not wish that.

"You are hopelessly outnumbered, Executor Selendis," he said atlast, his voice laced with contempt. "And even if these...monks who have been cloistered here for God knows how long can actually put up a fight, we will still triumph. You must know this."

"I do," Selendis said quietly. Rosemary turned to look at her, narrowing her eyes slightly. She was familiar enough by now with how protoss mental abilities worked to recognize that Selendis had tightly shuttered her thoughts. Nothing was coming in or going out that she did not want to hear or be heard.

I know as little as you, Rosemary Dahl, came Vartanil's baffled thoughts.

Ethan laughed harshly. "You will hand Zamara's essence over to me then without a fight? How disappointing. My zerg want sport."

"They were given enough sport on our homeworld," Selendis snapped, her glowing eyes flashing. "We desire no more bloodshed."

Rosemary frowned. What the hell was Selendis playing at? She knew that the knowledge harbored at the Alys'aril was invaluable to the protoss. Maybe it was more important than the information Zamara bore. While Rosemary would be quite happy if her life and Jake's were spared, she wasn't sure she thought this was a good trade. Selendis turned to regard her, but with her thoughts so closed, Rosemary could not read the glance.

Was Selendis really going to sell Zamara out?

Ethan waved a hand airily. One of his extra scythe-arms emulated the gesture. "I will wait. I can kill you later as easily as now, if it comes to that."

Selendis inclined her head. "Thank you," she said. "Rosemary— Vartanil—let us return to Krythkal and see how he progresses."

"On one condition," Ethan continued.

Here it comes, Rosemary thought, and tensed.

"Your story sounds plausible and feels true. I believe you about the ritual. But what's to stop you from suddenly changing your mind and absconding with both of them once it's completed? No, I think I need verification along with my trust."

Selendis was still, even now, radiating calm. "What do you need to be satisfied?"

"I'd like to have one of my zerg watch this little ritual you describe. And when it's complete, you will give it the crystal that contains Zamara."

Rosemary bit back a retort quite literally, chomping down on her lower lip rather than snapping "Like hell" or another such comment. She couldn't give the game away—whatever the game was. She had to trust Selendis now.

"I cannot think that having a zerg present while a sacred protoss ritual is transpiring will help us achieve the desired result," Selendis said sharply.

Ethan shrugged. "It will not attack unless attacked first. And come now, Executor, you would do the same in my position. A witness, to prove what you say is true and take delivery of something you have agreed to provide. Surely that's not too much to ask."

Selendis nodded. "It is an understandable precaution on your part, yes. But your creature must do nothing to interfere, or Zamara and Jake will be forever lost to both of us."

"Agreed. He'll be a good boy. Or girl. I'm not sure exactly which. Oh.. .and if you double-cross me.. .well, Trouble, you'll be the first to die."

Ethan made no gesture, but suddenly one of the creatures waiting silently began to undulate toward them, slithering up the steps, its scythe-arms bobbing in front of it as it moved. Rosemary fought the impulse to shoot the hydralisk on the spot, instead feeling a rare wave of fear wash over her at its approach. It towered over her, slaver dripping from its jaws, then came to a halt in front of Selendis, utterly obedient to its master.

Confused, alarmed, and furious, Rosemary gave Ethan another glance. He met her gaze, and the face that was still recognizable as his twisted into a smirk of victory. She ground her teeth and forced herself to accompany Selendis and the zerg inside.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked as they hastened up the long, broad steps to the heart of the temple.

Selendis favored her with a brief glance. I am buying us time. The thought was for her only, and Rosemary closed her mouth and tried to "speak" only with her own thoughts in turn.

That bit about Jake and Zamara dying—that was a lie?

No. It is my understanding that the ritual cannot be stopped at this juncture without the loss of both parties. Krythkal must be permitted to complete his task.

What about our new best friend here?

Selendis glanced back at the zerg, which slithered along behind them, its silent pacifism almost more chilling than an outright attack. There was no alternative. Ethan was correct—I would have done the same thing. For the moment, there is no harm in it watching. And even now, no one is certain that the ritual will be successful.

Rosemary didn't need to be reminded of that. Oddly, though, despite the peril they were all in at this point, she felt relieved at being able to do something rather than simply sit around and wait.

It is difficult, to feel helpless, Selendis agreed. I would prefer that Ethan had not come... but yes. I understand how you feel.

Rosemary shot the executor a quick glance. For all their differences, for all her alienness, Selendis did share that same pleasure at being finally able to act.

A few moments later, Rosemary, Selendis, Vartanil, Mohandar, and Razturul were cloistered with Ataldis, the alysaar who was in charge while Krythkal was conducting the separation rite. They all stared at the hydralisk, who turned its hideous head to first one of them then the next, peering at them with yellow eyes through which Rosemary assumed Ethan saw. None of them seemed surprised, although they seemed frightened and unhappy; Rosemary assumed

Selendis had warned everyone that they were bringing a friend along.

Selendis was brutally blunt—another thing Rosemary liked about her. "We cannot hope to win an out-and-out battle against the zerg," she said the moment she had everyone's attention. Again, Rosemary knew she was directing her thoughts so that the eavesdropping hydralisk wouldn't understand. "We are outnumbered quite literally a hundred to one. Nor do we have superior technology on hand that might even the odds. It is distasteful to me to say this, as a warrior, but if we fight, we will die, and they will take Zamara."

Vartanil thought the protoss equivalent of swallowing hard and turning pale. Rosemary frowned slightly, but nodded. "So—we're not going to fight?"

Selendis turned fiercely glowing eyes upon the terran. "Some of us will. And we who choose to fight, will die. But others, and the knowledge of this sacred place, may be able to continue on."

A flicker of approval from Mohandar. "You have at least one vessel that can bear some of us to safety," he said. "Is this your plan?"

"Partially. Some protoss, and as many of the memory crystals as can be salvaged. But first, I must know. Are there other vessels we can utilize?" Selendis asked, turning to Ataldis.

The alysaar hesitated. "We do not leave the Alys'aril, we who tend to it," he said. "Others come to us. We do not go to them."

"So that's a no?" Rosemary asked.

"Not precisely. We do have vessels, from the time when Ehlna was first settled. I do not know if they are even functional anymore. There is no one here who has the knowledge of repairing the vessels."

"I think I could."

"You? You are not even protoss!"

"I helped Zamara repair the warp gate on Aiur," Rosemary shot back. "She was in my thoughts. I know a lot about the simple physical mechanics of things and more than a little now about how your technology works. At least give me a crack at it."

"You shall have a chance to examine it," Selendis said. When Ataldis bridled slightly, she added, "The hour is desperate, Ataldis. If Rosemary can help us, more lives and more knowledge can be saved. We must allow her to try."

Ataldis nodded, though he was still obviously unhappy. "Come then," he said. "I will take you to the vessels."

"I will accompany you," said Mohandar.

As Rosemary, Ataldis, and Mohandar started to leave, the hitherto silent zerg snarled and whipped out a scythe-arm, blocking their path. Rosemary looked up—and up, the thing was enormous— and stared into its baleful yellow eyes.

"You've got your eyewitness, Ethan," she growled. "I'm leaving this room. You tell it to kill me, they kill it and you don't get Zamara. You can either send it to follow me around or go watch the separation ritual like you wanted it to. Either way, I'm going."

The thing hesitated, the eyes narrowing. Rosemary stood stock still as the zerg extended a hooked appendage and, very gently, stroked her cheek before turning back to gaze at Selendis. The executor pivoted and moved purposefully toward the room where Krythkal was conducting the ritual. The zerg followed.

Rosemary shivered as she watched it, not with fear, not this time, but with hatred. She hoped she'd have a chance to kill Ethan Stewartherself.

At any other time, Rosemary would have been ecstatic to get her hands on such antique alien vessels. She'd have spent many pleasant hours tinkering with them and learning, trying this, adjusting that.

She didn't have hours. She wasn't sure she even had an hour, and stared, simultaneously enraptured and horrified, at the ancient ship before her. There were only three of them total, and only one that was capable of anything other than atmospheric travel. They were oddly huge and clunky-looking compared to every other protoss vessel she'd seen before, even the bulkier dark templar ones. They had been kept in a special room below the main grounds of the

temple, and Rosemary was willing to bet a million credits that no one had been down here in the last century. They had been covered, at least, for which she was grateful, but even so they were dusty and ominously still-looking.

"When we were exiled from Aiur," Mohandar said, "the Conclave initially resisted giving us any vessels at all other than the single xel'naga ship. Adun insisted that we have some, that we might be able to travel and explore any worlds we happened upon. Fortunately it seems as though our ancestors left a few here with us when the majority departed for other worlds."

"Yeah, fortunately," said Rosemary hesitantly. She took a step up to one and touched it, feeling the cool metal beneath her fingers. She peered inside. Yes, there was a crystal there, but it was dark.

"What do you think, Rosemary?" asked Vartanil, slipping up beside her and looking down at her hopefully. "You can repair it, can't you?"

"I'm not sure. Is there a protoss who can assist me on this?"

Vartanil ducked his head shyly. "I am a Furinax," he said. "I have not personally constructed any vessels, but I do understand the mechanisms of how such things work."

Rosemary smiled at him. He was not a warrior, like Selendis, nor a politician, like Mohandar, nor a priest, like Krythkal. Vartanil was a humble craftsman—a worker. And that was exactly what was needed now. She was very glad he was here. She again looked at the console, remembering how she had manipulated things when she had shared thoughts with Zamara. "Then get in the driver's seat andwe'll see if this thing has anyjuice left in it at all," Rosemary said.

He nodded, touching the metal cautiously with his four-fingered hand. It had done nothing when Rosemary had done so earlier, but now, under the hand of a protoss, the door lurched slightly, then with a series of jerks slid open. Rosemary and Vartanil exchanged triumphant glances. The young Furinax slipped inside and touched the crystal.

Nothing.

Rosemary mentally swore. "Try it again," she said. Vartanil hesitated, then obeyed. And this time, suddenly, the crystal came to life for a brief second. Purple illumination chased itself around the console and she felt—there was no other way to explain it—the ancient ship come to life for just a moment.

"Well done, Rosemary," came Selendis's mental voice.

Rosemary turned to Selendis, pleased that the executor had witnessed her triumph, confused as to why she was here. "I thought you were with Ethan's little friend?"

"I escorted it to the room, but it does not need to be watched. Ethan would not be foolish enough to permit the hydralisk to kill anyone. He has too much at stake."

Rosemary was forced to agree. Ethan ever looked out for himself.

"I think the crystal might need to be replaced," she continued, "but from what I know about how your ships function, everything else I can get up and running. I'm sure of it."

She let herself enjoy the sensations of pleasure wafting off the protoss for a moment, but then Selendis was all business again.

"This is very good news. We will soon have a second operative vessel. While it is true that Ethan has many zerg here under his command, their number is not infinite. If we can reach Shakuras in time, we can bring in reinforcements, and they will certainly fall beneath a protoss assault."

That much was inarguably true. Also true was the fact that in order to get to the warp gate, whoever took that ship would have to get past zerg piled six thick all around the Alys'aril, both on the ground and in the air. Which was pretty much suicide.

"I will take the vessel we arrived in and—"

"No." Razturul's interruption was blunt, almost rude. "I will go, Executor. I am a skilled pilot, and you are needed here."

"I am a trained warrior," Selendis protested. "It is my duty—"

"Let us not pretend that this attempt to gather reinforcements is likely to succeed," said Razturul evenly. "You are more necessary to the survival of our people than I, Executor. Too... the Alys'aril is a sacred site to the dark templar. Long have we revered and striven to keep it safe and secret. I would ask for the honor of attempting to defend it at what may be its final hour."

Rosemary peered at Razturul. She hadn't been overly fond of the dark templar. He'd been brusque and treated her roughly when she and the other Aiur protoss had stumbled through the warp gate. She hadn't been pleased to learn that he was to accompany them. And yet now he was insisting on undertaking a mission that made the word "risky" seem like a walk in the park.

"Razturul is right," said Mohandar. "You are a strategist, Selendis. He is a dark templar warrior. Let him undertake this mission."

Still Selendis hesitated. "The human and Vartanil can repair this ship," Razturul continued. "Use it to take the crystals and flee once the ritual is complete. I will go and do my utmost to bring reinforcements." His eyes half closed and he tilted his head to the side, laughing a little. "Besides, who knows? I might elude them after all, and bring honor to my people by saving you, Executor."

"Who knows indeed," Selendis said, and with those words, Rosemary knew the executor had given her consent. What Razturul said was possible, sure.

But not likely.

She knelt and unpacked the small kit she'd brought with her, reaching for the tools, and looked up at Vartanil. She'd had enough of protoss farewells, and did not want to watch as Razturul made his. Vartanil nodded his understanding, and Rosemary turned her attention to the dusty relic of a vessel, preferring to focus on a centuries-old machine than a being who would be dead inside of an hour.

"We might all be dead inside of an hour," Vartanil reminded her.

"Shut up and touch the crystal again," Rosemary growled. It didn't make her feel better that everyone present saw through her facade of indifference as she started to work.