Despite the unfortunate defeat of the first zealot, the battle on the ground was still going on.

As the zealots were stumbling forward, trying to close the distance, the Warden units attacked mercilessly. Marauder concussive shells kept on crashing into the zealots, slowing them down even further. Marines kept on focusing fire on individual zealots. Twenty gauss rifles at the same time were simply too much for the plasma shield of normal zealots to handle. Every ten seconds a zealot would be forced out of the battlefield.

“For Daelaam!” The leading zealot knew the situation was bad. If they couldn’t close in the distance quickly, they would be kited and defeated. They have lost the upper hand as soon as the first wave of concussive shells hit every single zealot in the field. After that, with decreased speed, they no longer had any hope of dodging the terran weapons.

They needed to make progress right here right now.

As if the war cry inserted a new surge of strength into their bodies, the zealots suddenly moved much faster than before. One of the zealot roared, and immediately, despite the effect of the concussive shell, he entered charge mode with sheer willpower.

Charging at one of the marauders, the zealot grinned with pride. So what if these terran had some tricks up their sleeves? Nothing could stand against the might of the Firstborn.

And then the marauder gave him another grenade, and the zealot, sadly, found himself back in material form again.

“No!!!” He never had a chance to finish his frustrated scream because twenty gauss rifles turned onto him. A wave of bullets sent him back to his commander’s capital ship.

Nevertheless, the outburst of the zealots definitely contributed. After six more defeated zealots, the remaining protoss warriors found themselves closing in.

After all, these were elite warriors who have been trained in the art of combat for hundreds of years. Their magic like psionic power enhanced their already powerful melee capability. Even if they were temporarily slowed down, how long would it take them to walk over a few hundred meters?

Seeing a wave of pissed off blade wielding alien warriors closing in, the Warden captain’s AI processed as quickly as ever.

The marauders moved back while firing, slowing the zealots down while keeping as much distance between them and the zealots as possible. Marines carefully stutter-stepped. Suddenly, the ten reapers that didn’t contribute much in the previous battle appeared.

Their jetpacks powered them to right in front of the zealots. Just as the zealots were able to reach these pesky terran, the reapers suddenly stopped. Instead of meeting the reapers head on, the zealots found themselves running into a wave of explosives of all sorts.

KD8 charges could toss the zealots around. Despite their psionic power, they were still too light to withstand the blast of the explosions. Those sent flying around were the lucky ones. The unlucky ones received a D8 demolition charge in the face. Explosives designed to punch through building armors easily punched a hole through the personal plasma armor and sent the protoss to safety, whether they wanted it or not.

As the explosions kept on appearing in the middle of the protoss flank, a few zealots were tossed toward the wrong direction and away from their brothers and sisters. Immediately, reaper AIs seized the opportunity and swarmed upon the individual units. Twenty gauss pistols might take a while to rip open plasma shields, but the melee zealots had no way of hitting the terran. Some damage was better than no damage at all.

Reaper jetpacks gave them an almost unfair amount of mobility. As long as the reapers themselves didn’t panic or miscalculate, they would never be caught up by the zealots. Unfortunately for the protoss, their enemy this time was someone who could never panic.

As the zealots were tossed over their feet, the marauders and marines returned as well.

The endless mixture of gauss rifles, marauder shells, and occasional reaper shots echoed through the battlefield.

The protoss guards observing the battlefield were almost sickened. In a real fight, this small group of terran would be obliterated by a single psionic storm or a couple immortals or dragoons.

Unfortunately, it was protoss tradition to use templars in duels like this. Dragoons and immortals were great soldiers in battles, but duels were about skills, not technology. Dragoons and immortals relied more on their high tech armors than skill with the blades.

Then again, if the protoss squad had even a single high templar, then the battle would have ended very soon. The reason this battle was still going was because Selendis felt it was unfair to use high templars when Raiders didn’t have ghosts. Plus, it was pretty tough to use high templars and still keep the enemies alive. Psionic storms couldn’t distinguish between friends and foes.

This was a fatal mistake.

In the field, half the protoss champions were already gone while those still on the field had their shields exhausted. All the while, the only losses the terran suffered was in term of ammunition. Not one Warden unit has fallen.

Everytime the zealots tried to force a charge, the Warden units they were charging toward would quickly move away. At the same time, at least one concussive shell would hit the zealot and either knock him out or delay him substantially. When the zealot finally got out of the effect of the marauders, the same cycle would repeat again.

The zealots tried to spread out to minimize the effect of the concussive shells, but that only made it easier for Warden marines and reapers to target individual zealots.

At this point all the zealots could hope for was the terran arsenal to be depleted before all the protoss were gone. Without bullets for their guns, these terran would be like tigers without claws. Protoss psionic blades could rip open their blue armors and make them pay for the shame they brought upon the Firstborn.

Most of the zealots were already too consumed by rage to remember they carried training blades and were in a duel. At least ten minutes of continuous bombardment while not being able to land a single strike on the enemy made these elite warriors mad.

These zealots were experienced. They have been in almost every kind of terrible situation. Every one of them have been surrounded, wounded, and even almost killed before, but what they were going through was nothing like anything they have faced.

The Warden units didn’t care about what was going on in the zealots’ mind. All they knew was to do what they were programmed to do.

In the end the dual ended the expected way. As the last zealot was consumed by a beam of light, and as his war cry barely faded from the battlefield, all fifty Warden units formed formation in the open field again. Not one of them was grazed. Not even once.

Zero to fifty. Fifty AIs in specialized armors just defeated fifty elite zealots without a single loss.

In the bridge, Jean felt everyone looking at her in what could be described as admiration. Everyone present knew how good zealots were, and that was what made this so impressive. If the zealots themselves were so powerful, then what type of person could create an army that could defeat these zealots without a single loss? Even if it was fifty ghosts here, they might still take some damage before finally massacring all the zealots.

Jean wasn’t moved by the admiring looks. She was too busy using this rare chance to compute the combat capabilities of these Warden units.

Undoubtedly, these Warden units were good, but they were only able to achieve this score because they were allowed to. The protoss had no ranged units. They had no spell-casters. They had no air support. All they had was a group of melee units that could never get close enough to their enemies to use their blades.

Being able to defeat them wasn’t impressive.

Still, unit modification could wait. Jean turned to the crew members.

“Establish a communication with the protoss.”

The crew members nodded and turned to work.

Jean didn’t wait long before the computer screen in front of her was occupied by the female protoss executor.

“Executor Selendis.” Jean acknowledged, waiting to see her attitude toward this matter.

If this was a Tal’darim executor, then Jean was certain she would ignore what happened in the duel and just open fire and burn everything, but the Daelaam were honorable. They would never attack former brothers in arms to cover up their defeat.

“You have won, terran.” Jean could see some dissatisfaction from Selendis, but the executor nonetheless stayed true to her words. “As stated before, I will pull back my fleet and leave these people to you. I hope your trust in these terran will not be wasted.”

“You have my thanks.”

Just before the communication was cut, Selendis suddenly remembered she didn’t even know who the terran talking to her was. Normally she wouldn’t bother asking for the name of some random human, but what happened in the field was enough for Jean to leave an impression in her mind.

“What is your name?”

“Jean. Lieutenant Jean Turner.”

Selendis nodded and turned off the comm, leaving the Raiders to themselves.

If it was anyone else that suddenly became the center of attention of dozens of men and women, she would be proud. But Jean didn’t find any reason to be proud. She could pretend to be happy or sad or angry or disappointed simply because it would help her accomplish her mission, but pride couldn’t do anything for her.

“Sir,” She turned back to Raynor. “The protoss have backed off, but we still need to find a solution for the infested.”

Raynor was still thinking about the magnificent performance of the Warden units. He has seen more battle than anyone else in this room, and he couldn’t help but think what would happen if there was an army of these units instead of just a small squad.

“Huh?” It took him a while to realize what Jean was saying. “Right. Doctor,” He turned to Ariel Hanson. “You need to find a cure for the zerg infestation,” He bit his lips. “quickly.”

Of all people, he knew how fast zerg infestation could spread. If Dr. Hanson couldn’t develop a countermeasure in a few days, then the Raiders would be forced to leave the colonists to the zerg. There would be no terran left to cure.

Hanson nodded. She didn’t need Raynor to remind her how urgent the situation was. “I will work on it right away.” She turned and walked out of the bridge with absolute haste.

“Jean,” Raynor turned to the young lieutenant he trusted with all his heart. The girl has never disappointed him, and he believed she never will. “I want you to take command of the Raiders for this event.”

Jean rose her eyebrows, but deep down she wasn’t surprised.

Raynor might be, to a degree, a love puppy, but he has seen too much carnage done by the zerg. He knew with all his heart that unless Dr. Hanson could come up with a cure in a few days, which was next to impossible, then the Raiders would need to destroy the colonies with all the colonists in them.

Ironically, the Raiders fought to stop the protoss from massacring the colonies, only to be able to do the job themselves.

If that was to happen, then Raynor didn’t want to be the one ordering the hit. He admired Dr. Hanson, and he knew how much killing the colonists would hurt her. Granted, Jean pulling the trigger would be painful as well, but Hanson practically viewed Jean as an enemy, and it couldn’t really get any worse. However, if Raynor, the hero in Dr. Hanson’s eyes, order the termination of thousands of infested colonists, then there was no telling what the doctor would do.

Whether it was to preserve a medical expert for the Raiders or to save the soul of a poor woman who lost everything, Raynor couldn’t be held responsible for what had to be done.

“Yes sir.” Jean didn’t have a problem with that. She didn’t need to care what Dr. Hanson thought about her. This would be a great chance for her to increase her authority. She agreed without any hesitation.