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Season 1: The Starcraft Commander---Chapter 111: My life for Amon

Season 1: The Starcraft Commander---Chapter 111: My life for Amon

After a couple hundred more dead zerg, the protoss strike team found their target, they were met with the best of the swarm. A certain terran zerg hybrid was before the zerg units.

“Kerrigan!” Artanis growled. Too many had gave their lives for the queen of blades. Protoss blood, metaphorically, had stained every inch of Char. “Amon wants your essence, and it will be our greatest honor to deliver it to him.”

Kerrigan grinned as she motioned for the army behind her. “Amon must have blinded you, Artanis. Can’t you see you have already lost this battle? Your persistence will only lead to the complete destruction of your people.”

Swarm units approached all around the protoss, completely surrounding them. The zerg outnumbered the protoss more than ten to one.

Artanis glanced at the zerg forces before readying his red blade. His warriors did the same, against all odds.

“My life for Amon.”

The two sides acted without further waste of time. The best of the Daelaam fought the strongest of the swarm. Only one could come out alive, and both sides did their best to kill each other as quickly as possible.

Charging zealots were the first to make contact. Their physical weakness was supplemented by their utter faith in their god. They were met with the quickest ground units of the swarm: Zerglings and banelings.

Screams covered the field as zealots ran into pools of highly corrosive acid, but the experienced zealots came up with an alternative method. A few of them charged into the banelings while others stayed away from the area of effect of the acid. A single zealot could take at least a dozen banelings hits before dying, so could a dozen if they were in range. Even the wounded or depleted zealots could survive a few baneling hits. Through careful coordinations, most of the swarm banelings were rendered useless as they smashed into individual zealots.

However, surviving the banelings didn’t necessarily mean victory. Zerglings were mixed with the banelings, and when the zealots spreaded out to minimize baneling damage, they were picked apart by groups of zerglings. Once stranded, individual zealots couldn’t survive the claws of dozens of zerglings from every direction. One by one the zealots fell. They took down several times the zerg, but, as stated before, zerg could afford to trade.

While the zealots were struggling with zerglings and banelings, support units from the two sides exchanged fire. Dragoons and immortals clashed with roaches and hydralisks. Particle disruptors melted the zerg carapace and spines and acids punched through plasma shields. The wounded warriors of the Daelaam did their best to do what they could for their people, but the grooved spines didn’t care about their targets’ dedication as they penetrated more and more battered bodies and put them down forever.

Zerg screeched. Protoss screamed. The sound of living beings dying echoed throughout the battlefield.

An ultralisk charged toward the protoss lines. Two zealots fearlessly met with the several story high beast and tried to get something done. They were crushed into a cloud of psionic energy.

A high templar saw the ultralisk. He focused his psi energy on his legs, and the boost sent him into the air. The ultralisk looked up as the protoss flew through the air and landed on his the chitinous plating of his head.

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The ultralisk shook his head, trying to shake the high templar off, but the high templar simply grabbed onto the ultralisk’s armor. He ignited his blade and stabbed down onto the ultralisk’s skull.

One stab. Nothing happened. The ultralisk’s head might be the most armored area of the entire beast. Fine, change of plan.

The templar pulled his blade back and formed a psionic blast and smashed it on the plating. A part of the plating was taken off, but the majority was intact. Then came the second, and the third. After five red concentrated psionic blasts the plating of the ultralisk was practically gone. Psi blade extended, the templar stabbed his weapons into the beast’s skull.

At first the ultralisk was fine. Its primary organs were duplicated and spread all across its body to make sure the ultralisk couldn’t get taken down via its critical parts. But when the high templar cut the entire ultralisk in half from the opening on the skull and through the soft tissues within the beast, the ultralisk was gone.

The high templar jumped back off the ultralisk, but his pride was cut off by a round of grooved spines.

Artanis jumped into the air and toward Kerrigan. His double psi blades slashed down, and were met with the wings of the queen of blades. Even with void energy psi blades don’t have enough power to go through Kerrigan’s carapace.

“Hear the screams of your people, Artanis.” Kerrigan, while fighting, did her best to shake Artanis’ mind. She enjoyed watching her foes fall apart from within, especially if that foe almost killed her. If Jean didn’t come and warn her about the Golden Armada and several hundred Daelaam capital ships arrived on Char and she wasn’t ready...She couldn’t imagine what would happen. In fact she could, which was why she was enjoying this process so much. Fear generated anger. This was the same reason in the original history that encouraged Kerrigan to taunt Raynor when he was on Char. Raynor threatened her, so when she thought she was in control Kerrigan made the process as long and as pleasant as possible.

“How many Daelaam will be left after this day? Once upon a time your people dominated the sector. You saw yourselves as gods.” She pushed Artanis away with a psionic blast. “Oh how the might have fallen.”

If Jean was here she wouldn’t provoke Artanis. It was one thing to provoke an enemy to make him angry and rash, but it was another to make a trapped beast mad. Then again if Jean was here she wouldn’t have fought with Artanis herself in the first place.

Artanis’ already red eyes grew even redder. All around him his people were dying. Immortals failed to live up to their names. Dragoons were blown to pieces. Zealots were overwhelmed.

“Astral wind!” A friendly psionic wave emitted from Artanis. It reached the battered protoss units and restored their shields and their strength.

A zealot who was previously kneeling on the ground and getting chewed on by four zerglings suddenly felt his strength restored. He stood back up and shook the zerglings off with a burst of psionic energy. Four slashes ended the four beasts. The renewed zealot charged toward into the battle again, and was instantly killed by six grooved spines.

An immortal was exchanging fire with a hydralisk. A spine penetrated the immortal’s shield. The next few spines might be able to end the immortal, but suddenly the immortal’s shield was recharged. The immortal managed to withstand the next few spines from the hydralisks and gun it down.

All across the field protoss forces retaliated with restored strength.

Kerrigan wasn’t shaken by the sudden change of event. “Not bad, but how many times can you do this? Once? Twice?”

Artanis frowned. He was only strong enough to use the ability once, and he was planning on holding it until the best moment, but it appeared like, even healed and refreshed, the remaining protoss forces didn’t have enough to win the fight. There was just too many zerg. He hid his doubt.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll have more than enough time to kill you.” Using the time his refreshed troops bought him, Artanis stroke.

“Oh you ignorant fool.” Kerrigan smiled wickedly and spread out her wings.