The xel'naga vessel, for such Kerrigan instantly realized it had to be, rose from the gaping hole in the earth. Like the chambers below, this craft was a melding of the natural and the technical, all swirls and curves and grace. The zerg swarmed toward it, hurling themselves at it. Kerrigan hoped it was convincing enough—she had to make it look as though she was trying to stop the dark archon's flight.

A heartbeat later the thing crackled with energy. Zerg dropped like stones, both those that were scrabbling to climb atop the thing and many others who were simply circling it in the air. The xel'naga ship continued to rise, striving toward freedom.

From what Kerrigan knew about protoss vessels, the pilots were an integral part of any technology's operating systems. She wondered if it was the same here—if Ulrezaj was expending some of his own psionic energy to control the vessel. She hoped so; he wouldn't be able to give them the slip quite so easily then. She'd just have to wait and find out.

The blast of energy made the very air ripple. Ethan clung tightly to the mutalisk who bore him, directing it to flee with a brutal tenor to his mental commands, hoping that it and he were safely out of range. The mutalisk hurtled away so quickly Ethan nearly lost his grip. He held on and turned his head back to see what had happened.

It was almost balletic. Glowing and radiant, the xel'naga ship ascended to the skies of Aiur like an angel from Hell, all pursuit caught in its deadly radius falling instantly to the earth. He'd been lucky—this time.

Ethan barely had time to summon a behemoth and, along with the other zerg of which he was in charge, enter a hollow area deep inside the creature's dense hide before the xel'naga vessel containing a dark archon disappeared entirely.

"Follow," he told the behemoth, and it obeyed.

THEY WERE HEADING HOME, A SILENT AND SOMBER fleet. Everyone knew that this was what would occur when Tassadar had held back, had disobeyed orders out of what the Conclave believed to be a thoroughly misguided sense of compassion. Executor Tassadar, the best and brightest warrior the protoss had. was being summoned home. The Conclave s order had been almost churlish and petty—Jake realized that they wanted not just to discipline Tassadar, but to humiliate him. They were offended that he had disobeyed, and, rightly, worried about the consequences that disobedience would have. After all, the zerg were not simple omhara.

But they had not stood beside him when he made that choice, had not felt the mental anguish and worry that the internal struggle had cost Tassadar. Jake had. And she was reminded of another high templar who had disobeyed the orders of the Conclave when he felt them unnecessarily cruel and wrong. Adun was a hero to the protoss people, because history—crafted by the Conclave of that era and those who had come after them—had willed it so. They were not about to tarnish Adun s memory with something as pesky as truth, especially not when that truth would compromise them. Adun had been too good, too pure for this world, and after banishing the evil dark templar had somehow mystically departed mortal life. That was his legacy. He had sacrificed himself in a way no one yet understood in order to weed out the dark templar taint—to keep the protoss safe.

"But that's not what happened. I—you—God, this is confusing. Vetraas knew the truth! Adun died, for lack of a better word, trying to help save the dark templar!"

"Indeed. Preservers know all sides of an issue, for we have all memories. It is why preservers were utterly forbidden to become members of the Conclave."

Jake tried to grasp this. "You mean—you're not allowed to tell the truth?"

"What preservers know, the Conclave knew. Preservers are keepers of the past, Jacob. We are not crafters of policy. We have our orders, and we remain utterly neutral. It is not our place to judge, to praise, or condemn. It is not our place to act, but simply to observe. At least.. .it has always been so until now."

"You would have let Tassadar be executed then?"

He felt her discomfort. "It is difficult to explain. But yes, then... perhaps I would have. I am glad I was not faced with that choice."

" Will you recant?" Jake asked Tassadar privately, her thoughts only for her friend.

"No." Tassadar did not even have to think twice. "I regret having to defy those I have sworn to obey. But I would make the same decision again." He turned his lambent eyes on her. " That knowledge lets me face my fate with peace. I know that— "

The cry hit them all with its force. The most sensitive among them winced in pain. Desperate, frightened, longing, calling out for aid, crying out a specific name... "Tassadar!"

Images flooded Jake. A burned-out world, covered with soft gray ash, pain unimaginable—and zerg, so many of them—here, here was where the enemy was hiding—

"Char," Tassadar said. "I know the world. The cry for aid comes from there."

Andjust that quickly, Jake knew what they were going to do. Tassadar touched the crystal that communicated his thoughts to his fleet.

" You all followed me without question when I chose to disobey the orders of the Conclave. You must trust my orders again now, when I tell you to continue your journey to Aiur. The Gantrithor will not be accompanying you. I have received a telepathic distress call that I know I must investigate. I also believe that there is a chance to eradicate our true enemy, the zerg, once and for all—here, on this planet. Repeat, all vessels, return to Aiur. Your loyalty. ..is moving beyond measure. En taro Adun."

Lifting his hand from the crystal, he broadcast his thoughts throughout his flagship. "Those who do not wish to follow me to investigate this distress call arc also free to return home. You will receive nothing but the highest praise from me, and I will do my utmost to see that the Conclave vents its anger upon me and me alone."

Jake strained for the replies, and was touched, but not surprised, when not a single protoss aboard the Gantrithor chose to disembark. They were templar, all of them, and they followed their leader. Almost overcome, Tassadar momentarily lowered his head into his hand, blocking his emotions.

"No commander has ever had such a crew, " he said, the words heartfelt. He turned to Jake. "Zamara—you, however, should return. "

Jake shook her head. "I will stay with you."

"I would be easier in my mind if I knew you were safe in the Sanctum."

Jake tilted her head and half closed her eyes in a smile. "Executor... Tassadar... for so long, I ha ve been a holder, a keeper of memories. I wish to make some of my own, and I believe in you— what you are doing. It is my choice to go with you. I am not the only preserver, Executor. If I fall, others will continue on. We are the one constant."

"True. But I would not see you come to harm, and I cannot guarantee your safety. Zamara...you are one of the great treasures of our people. I have caused sufficient alienation without endangering a preserver. And I do not know what fate awaits us on Char."

"You know that whoever called to you was in deep pain, and is a powerful telepath. There is a puzzle here—you have sensed it, as have I. You know that this is, if not the seat of the zerg, certainly a place where many of them can be found. And there are no guarantees in this life regardless. At this juncture, nothing is stable anymore. I have made my decision."

He gazed deep into her soul then, his considerable mental power as strong as hers, perhaps stronger in some ways. He held out his hand, and she emulated him. Briefly, they touched in the Khala, and thus reassured of her faith in her choice, Tassadar withdrew and nodded slightly.