The orange furred kat sat in her mangled corpse of a cockpit, the golden hued train-like vehicle slowing at what looked all too much like a train station. Though its arrival was far from spectacular, as it hissed to a stop, then clunked to the ground. Loud clangs of metal hurt the kat’s sensitive ears, as piece after piece of the ‘train’ fell to the ‘station’ floor. When she finally did look up, what she saw both amazed her, and frightened her.

     The government always said there was no such thing as aliens. When, or if, she ever got home, she'd have to make a point of writing to Congress. There were several of them, most dressed in a similar fashion to each other, their garb consisting of coverings for their arms, waists and a chestplate; “That is, if they have chests.” She thought in silence as she continued her observation, noting that one of them was dressed in a far more elegant matter, consisting of
flowing robes, beautiful design work, and a talisman with an odd stone set within it. Each of them stood on digitigrades legs, meaning they had two knees: One bending forward, followed by one bending backward. The one wearing the robes stepped forward, gracefully though his form seemed awkward, and with a gesture of his four-fingered hand the canopy of the jet’s cockpit was lifted like a kitten and laid to rest on the floor. 

     Hesitantly, the kat in the pilot's chair sat up, looking over at the odd alien being, half wanting to thank him, and half too scared to think. Though it was he who broke the silence.

     “En Taro Adun. Vash nira Tassadar.” It spoke. Its voice odd, yet mystifying all at the same time, its eerie language sent a chill up her spine. “Uh… Hi.  I’m Conrad.” She finally mustered up to speak. The being nodded once or twice, then continued, “Are you injured?” 

     Conrad blinked… it knew English?!

     “Me? No I'm fine, though I think I broke your train-thing.” Even as she spoke, more of the smaller vehicles were moving from the train, assessing the damages. “The Forager will be fine. I thank Adun that it was able to make it here.” He stepped closer, and held his hand out to her. With a slight hesitation she took it, and he helped her from the wreckage. “Here, take this…” and he placed a small pendant about her neck. The crystal set in it throbbed softly for a moment, its soft red color shining in for a second, then it died out. “… This talisman will help you. Not all of my brethren speak your language as I do. Again, I am Tassadar, High Templar to Adun and to my people.” 

     “Adun? Your people? Where am I?’ Conrad was a jumble of questions, as she looked around, more blank faces looked back. “This is most intriguing, Tassadar..” One of the others spoke. He wore what Conrad could only determine to be the garb of a warrior. Plates over his hands, each housing a bright blue stone, hummed with a soft churl as they moved, the armor itself seemed to not hinder him in the slightest. He was distinguished further from the others by the fact that his armor had green markings, and what looked too much like dried blood. “..Though she is a Kat, like the others…” At the word ‘others’ Conrad’s face lit up, “… she has no knowledge of us. Perhaps the Zerg attack upon our station at Kel-Moria damaged the guidance systems of the Forager.” And with that he gave a hearty laugh… “It seems, old friend, that we have a little more then a visitor” and with that he turned toward Conrad, “I am Fenix, Praetor and envoy of the Khala.” His hand was offered in friendship, and Conrad shook it. “H... Hi.. I'm Conrad; it's nice to meet you. Now, where am I, please?” She looked at Fenix, then up at Tassadar. 

     “You are on the Gantrithor. It is our flagship, and we are currently heading to our rendezvous with the Kat fleet.” Though as they spoke, a crystalline sphere in the corner pulsed, and the image of another one of these things came into view, dimming the lights of the entire room, and filling it with the image. A hologram, Conrad was familiar with, though this was impressive.

     “Executor! We have encountered a problem and must deviate from our course!” the thing in the hologram said. Judging from the talk, Conrad assumed this was the pilot, though who was the Execu… 

     “Show me.” Tassadar spoke, answering Conrad’s question, and with a simple “Affirmative” the hologram faded, as did the walls of the room, showing what looked like … 

     Outer Space?!

     Conrad panicked, though Fenix’s hand landed upon her shoulder, perhaps to calm her, to tell her she isn’t dead, no… not yet. Though what she felt from the hand was a call to calm her, so as to not panic when she saw what merited the course deviation. 

     It looked alive. Space, that is. Countless stars, nebulae, quasars, and galaxies… it was like an astronomers lab. Had she been an astronomer, or even someone interested in the stars, this would have been perfect, except for… She strained to see it, though it was there:  A wave of red, countless miles away, flowing through space, as though the very essence of space had been cut, and now bled across the heavens. “Magnify” Tassadar commanded, the blood of space was selected almost like in some computer program, though while most computers select items in a box, this selection was a cube, and the magnification was represented in the center of the room, where the pilot was… It wasn't blood, though Conrad didn't know what it was, it certainly scared her.

     Countless creatures, horrible creatures plucked straight from her nightmares and given form and purpose. Some on leathery wings, flapping through the airlessness of space, some on fins, swimming through space like an ocean, while others still just flew with no visible means. With a voice perhaps reserved for the devil himself, Fenix spoke.. “The Zerg” and if he had a mouth, Conrad believed he would have spit upon the image. So this is the Zerg…

     “Pilot?” Tassadar inquired, though without an image, he replied. “Yes, Executor?” 

     “Make your corrections.”

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