"I guess this is the kind of stuff that most reporters generally gloss over in a single sentence, but I took a lot of screenshots of me blowing up random spaceships and I'm damned if I'm not going to use them."
-|]agomar
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| Banishment | | | Author: | | | IP: | slip-32-XXXX | | Date: | 04/21/00 07:04 | | Game Type: | Starcraft | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 6, Min: 6
Lifetime Rating for ScreamStalker: 7.5385 |  | Hey all, Scream here. I decided I need to stop focusing on Dream Control for a minute, and write this story that has been running through my brain for the past few days. Look for the next chapter of Dream Control soon. This particular story I hope will not be long, but you never know. So I now proudly present to you:
Banishment
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I was born in the worst of times. My race had been titled outcasts by our former brothers and we were asked…no, we were forced to leave the home we had treasured and loved for so long. Any opposing this decision, the Conclave's decision, were immediately executed and made examples of. I remember my father, one of the leaders of the revolt against the movement for our banishment, he was captured, and slowly drained of all his psionic energy before a crowd of onlookers. They called him possessed, evil, and corrupted, when all he was doing was standing up for what he believed in. Others who felt that way met the same fate as my father.
With no other choice, my mother took me and my three siblings into the blackness of space. Us, and the others of our kind, were given minimal transport and adequate supplies, just enough so that we might make a settlement on some uncharted planet. The eldest of our once proud and powerful colony took charge, his name was Kandar and I remember him well. He was given the responsibility of choosing our new home, and chose he did. I was seventeen, a mere infant, when we landed on the planet of Brigidill. It was a cold dark place, and many questioned why Kandar had chosen such a desolate planet to serve as our new home. Kandar replied calmly, saying that the only way we would survive in the years ahead, would be to settle on an out of the way foreboding land. That way, few would venture into our den, and even fewer would wish to conquer it. No one questioned him from then on, but many doubted him.
In case you have not put the pieces together, I am a Dark Templar. My name is Rilik and I am 535 Earth years old. Of course, if you are reading this now, I am probably dead. Or forever locked away in a dank prison, a prize to the race that captured me. I inscribe these words today on a small energy block which I will bury when finished, in hopes that some day it will be found and exposed to the world. My goal, to tell you the true life and story, of my people, the Dark Templar.
The first few years were the worst. Disease and depression racked the lives of my race. Over half of the original Templar to survive being cast out died within the first few months, including my two sisters. Many were angered by the choice made by Kandar to settle on Brigidill, and they often formed hate groups allied against his power. Once such group assassinated Kandar three years after he took control, those Templar were never caught, and the murder was never solved. The next leader would not be so foolish though. His name was Prolick, and he held a special place in my soul, for he was my Uncle, my father's only brother.
Prolick was a successful ruler for many years. He was popular with our people, and during his rule, our small colony began to thrive. But when he was not busy controlling the economy of the growing town, he would act as a father figure for me and my brother. It was Prolick who taught us how to fight, and how to stay alive. It was he who taught us the basics of government, and the controlling aspects of the infrastructure of a city. It was he, who allowed us to serve as warriors in his small army, and it was he who changed my life forever.
I killed my first being when I was 57 years old. A scout had burst in to the training room where Prolick has been teaching me how to anticipate ammunition of all kinds. Breathing hard, the scout quickly explained that the Terrans had formed a small settlement in the unoccupied northern resource node. My uncle became furious, I know because he didn't say a word. He simply uttered, "Summon the troops" and beckoned me to follow him in to the preparatory room.
It is a common belief that all Dark Templar are permanently cloaked. I tell you now that is nothing but a rumor. Dark Templar are just as visible as every other unit of Protoss descendent. We become cloaked though, by wearing the battle cape that all Dark Templar warriors wear. The cape has two special probes that are located by the fastener on the drawstring, which are placed into the receiving circuits located on the necks of all Dark Templar. Once in place, the probes act as a relaying device, implanting the information needed to cloak our entire bodies in our enzymes, thus rendering us invisible.
Once in the preparatory room, my uncle motioned for me to have a seat on a nearby stool. He then chose one of the many battle capes that were suspended in the containment unit, and handed it to me. He said, "Rilik, you are like the son I never had. I have watched you as you have grown up, and you impress upon me thousands of years of wisdom which someone your age should not possess. You are one of the most skilled and natural warriors I have ever been allowed to teach, and I would be honored if you would battle with me for this planet."
Strongly taken aback by my Uncle's words, I could do little more then nod my agreement, and try to swallow the hard lump that had formed at the back of my throat. Soon after I had accepted the cloak, my Uncle left the room, and returned, followed by ten other Templar. I later learned that these ten were part of my Uncle's elite regiment. After passing each of them a cape, my Uncle reminded us to stay in control, and follow his orders at all times. He told us we should not engage in battle unless it seemed that the Terrans had not yet received detection devices. He left us with the words "For Aiur", which, even though we no longer had any connection with our lost home, still settled warmly in the depths of my soul.
My ten comrades and I followed my Uncle out of the blast doors, and into the barren wasteland. Being the Templar that we are, space and its air vacuum pose no factor to our health. Seeing as how we don't breathe oxygen or any other gas, no airlock unit or breathing devices are needed. Our small band moved silently and efficiently. We made little noise as our feet danced across the dry cracked ground. In case you are curious, we Dark Templar can see other cloaked Dark Templar, simply because of a mental connection that remains established at all times. Therefore, fighting our own race cloaked is pointless.
As our company raced across the planet, I began to be able to discern the shadowed shapes of the Terran encampment. Before long, the Command Center and all it's surrounding buildings were in full view, as were all the workers, and the dozen marines that guarded the base. My Uncle brought us to a halt on a small hill just above the camp. The scout had been very quick in delivering his message of the intrusion, for the Terrans had barely begun to set up. A half dozen SCVs were mining the precious minerals, returning their finds to the large rounded Command Center. Two supply depots sat to the right of the giant clam shell, their exoskeleton of gears whirring and churning to produce the necessary supplies. A single barrack was being constructed as we peered down at the base, so I made the assumption that the twelve marines guarding must have been dropped off by a transport, which probably departed some time earlier.
I could sense my Uncle's joy at the fact that no missile turrets or scanning stations were present. His next orders proved my hunch correct. My Uncle ordered us to destroy all buildings, slaughter all inhabitants, and take no survivors. With that said, he led the charge down the hill into the small valley.
As my Uncle gave the order, I felt my entire body shiver with enjoyment. I could not wait to fight, or at least, this is what I thought had caused the shiver. I know now that the sensation came because my body could not wait to kill. The twelve of us sprinted down the hill at full speed. It then became apparent the goals of each individual Templar, six headed straight for the Command Center, set on destroying the heart of the encampment. Three went for the SCV line, knowing that by destroying the harvesters, no reinforcements could arrive. The remaining three of us, including myself and my Uncle, charged straight for the band of Marines, hell bent on taking as many lives as we could.
The next few minutes changed my life in a way that I could never understand. We reached the Marines in what seemed like seconds. I was the first to attack, and as I reached the group, I spun the nearest Marine towards me, so that I could look straight into his eyes as he died. I then plunged my already extended blade deep into his abdomen and twisted upward, all the way to his throat. The kinetic energy contained in my weapon sizzled and popped as it shredded through flesh, muscle, and armor. The Marine's eyes held an emotion of surprise, and froze in that expression as the life drained out of them. The surge that rushed through my body was immense, causing me to gasp in shock, and withdraw from the fallen man.
At first I thought that I had inherited some kind of gene that made me allergic to killing. But after seconds of debating within myself what I had just done, I realized that I loved it, loved every aspect of it, and could not get enough of it. When I had come to terms with myself, I saw that my Uncle and a fellow Templar were attacking the now fleeing band of Marines. With a cry of victory, I took off after them, hoping to once again feel the surge as I robbed someone of their life.
When the dust settled, the entire Terran camp had been destroyed. The once proud and efficient buildings were now nothing more then a littering pile of smoldering rubbish. Terrans who had pledged their life to their Unions and Government, soiled the ground with their blood and waste, and left a distinguishable stench of death and rotting flesh in the air. My chest heaved with the excitement, and I turned to face my brethren, sending out a psionic wave filled with excitement and victory. What I received was nothing short of weird. All of the other warriors stared at me, eyes wide with surprise. They slowly began to back away from me, as if I was carrying some sort of contagious disease. What they did next amazed me, as all ten of them get down on their knees and bowed, faces touching the bloody earth.
I turned away from them, searching for my Uncle, I knew he would explain this all to me. He was standing next to me, but his eyes were not wide with surprise, they instead were filled with love and adornment. He quickly embraced me, an action rarely practiced in Protoss customs. He started to explain to me why the others were bowing, why they had at first shied away from me, and why I had loved murdering the soldiers. Questions that I simply could not wait to hear the answer to. Unfortunately, our silence was cut short by a small voice that popped up from the crowd of bowing Templar.
"Sir, I have just received a message from a space bound scout. He says that several Terran transports are entering the atmosphere, and they are accompanied by numerous Wraiths and BattleCruisers Sir."
A worried murmur quickly covered the feelings that had been present over all. Reinforcements had arrived.
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Crap, I really didn't want this to turn into another story. But it just seemed so cool. Well, I hoped you all liked it. Sorry it took so long for it to be presented. If you're looking for Dream Control, I have started it, so look for it maybe next week. What I might do is alternate installments of each story like every week. Comments please!
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