The Golden Armada had arrived onto the planet where the Death Fleet was last spotted, but the readied fleet didn’t find their enemy there. Instead, all they saw was a scene of massacre.

The mining base below was completely destroyed. Spare pieces and parts of destroyed probes scattered around the base, reminding those observing of the prosperity that was once here. A few armor pieces told the world what happened to the Daelaam forces guarding here. Only half of the nexus was left. The other half was just gone. A result of the tal’darim purifying beam. In space, pieces of metal drifted into the dark. They were once patrolling scouts tasked with defending the base below. They were also the first to fall when death descended.

Standing in the largest mothership in the Daelaam fleet, Artanis stared into the stars.

Footsteps approached from behind.

“Hierarch, the Death Fleet had left this planet not long before we arrived. Crystals show tal’darim ships exiting warp space and bombarding the mining facility below. There was no survivor.” Selendis’ words were filled with anger that the she struggled to suppress.

It had been the sixth location the tal’darim laid waste to. For days the mighty Golden Armada chased after the fleeing Death Fleet. The tal’darim were the exact definition of cowards. Instead of engaging the Golden Armada like real warriors they attacked smaller outposts and fled when the Daelaam reinforcements arrived. The only thing the reinforcements could find was a ruined world, only a skeleton to the former prosperity of the planet.

Artanis held his fist tight, trying to appear as a calm commander who had everything under control, but he could barely control his emotions. Every protoss warrior needed centuries to become a suitable warrior. Every single Daelaam was precious.

“How many templar were positioned here?” The hierarch asked quietly.

Selendis hesitated. “210 Khala.”

Artanis turned around drastically. “Why didn’t they warp away?” Mining bases and probes can be easily replaced. Zealots can’t.

“The tal’darim were too fast. They wiped out the entire facility in minutes. The forces on the planet didn’t respond quick enough.”

“Filthy tal’darim.” Selendis knew Artanis was at the peak of his anger. She was as well. In fact, the templar of entire armada was enraged. If there was a tal’darim fleet in front of them the warriors of the Golden Armada would rip the enemies into pieces in minutes.

The door snapped open, and a tall figure walked into the bridge. “Something doesn’t feel right.” Admiral Urun exclaimed. His centuries of experience screamed warning.

“Admiral?” Artanis frowned.

“The Death Fleet has no reason to attack us.” Urun reasoned. “They didn’t come here to pillage technology. They didn’t came here to get resources. They warped in, wiped out our base, and then left. Why? It is...it is as if the Death Fleet wants to kill our people. That’s all.”

“The tal’darim don’t need reasons to spread death and destruction.” Selendis snapped.

“The tal’darim are brutal, but they are not stupid. Ma’lash had led the tal’darim for centuries. He will not do anything without a proper case.”

“Ma’lash might not be the Highlord anymore.” Artanis interrupted the conversation between two of his most trusted advisers. “Vorazun told us her scouts saw a tal’darim power conflict. Perhaps Ma’lash is taken down and the new Highlord wants to make an example of his strength.”

“By attacking us?” Selendis announced furiously. “The Highlord had made a grave mistake.”

“True. The tal’darim can’t flee forever. All it takes is one mistake and we will destroy them.” Artanis announced.

Urun still seemed concerned, and Artanis walked closer to him. “Calm yourself, old friend. The Golden Armada is not afraid of any enemy.” He comforted. “There is no fraction in the sector that can possibly threaten us. The swarm is battered. We are chasing after the tal’darim. The Terran Dominion is still recovering from its civil war. Amon is still locked up in the void. The firstborn is safe.”

Urun nodded, slightly convinced.

“Where is Zeratul?” Artanis suddenly asked.

“Meditating.” Seledis replied with disdain.

Suddenly a zealot entered the room in a rush.

“Hierarch, tal’darim Death Fleet is spotted above an outpost.”

Above a Daelaam outpost, the entire Death Fleet was present. In fact, it was as if they were waiting for their enemies to act. The two motherships stood tall. Carriers stood guard around the motherships like knights standing guard around their kings.

This fleet had enough power to wipe out ten outposts like the one below, but instead of proceeding with the incineration they were waiting.

The Daelaam on the outpost below were confused. If the tal’darim had attacked they would be terminated before they could even warp away. That was what happened to many previous bases the Death Fleet striked. And yet the tal’darim didn’t lay a finger on the outpost. Only fools would think the tal’darim were merciful and decided to stay back and give their enemies a chance to run to safety. Wanting to learn more, the zealots in the outpost readied their warping system and waited.

The zealots below didn’t know there were questions among the Death Fleet itself as well.

“With all due respect, Highlord, is it the wisest decision to stay here?” Alarak wasn’t afraid to ask. “The Golden Armada can be here any second. We don’t have enough to challenge the Golden Armada. It is unwise to engage them now.”

Alarak and Ji’nara, two of Nyon’s most trusted underlings, stood beside their Highlord in the capital ship of the Death Fleet.

“I have my own plans.”

“Does that plan include your allies, Highlord?” Alarak said meaningfully. “It is not common for the Highlord to work with terran and other protoss fractions. The tal’darim don’t need allies.”

Nyon turned and glanced at Alarak threateningly, and Alarak lowered his head and backed off, showing the Highlord he had no intention in challenging his decision.

“It is, indeed, uncommon.” Nyon was satisfied at the obedience Alarak showed, even though he was slightly tired of being questioned by Alarak. ”But then again, Ma’lash had no allies. Where is he now?” Alarak remained silent. He didn’t agree in Nyon’s ideology, but he knew better than to protest.

“And the Golden Armada?” Ji’nara interrupted.

“Don’t worry. I have plans for them.” Nyon reassured. “It’s not like we need to kill them. We just need to stall them.”

Among the pure red Death Fleet, four ships stood out by their yellow color. They looked like a curve, and their bodies radiated powerful psi energy. Arbiters.