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.