"Uh... thanks."
He beamed at her, and she smiled back. They stood in silence, and then Rosemary said, "So...you just going to hang around then?"
"Until we depart to find Jacob and Zamara, yes."
She couldn't censor her thoughts well enough and he cocked his head. "You do not wish my company?"
"It's not that, it's just—I'm ready to be going. To be doing something. Do you have any idea when Selendis will make her decision?"
"I already have," came the thought, before the door even opened to admit the executor. She looked every bit as poised and in control as she had before. Rosemary squared her shoulders and regarded theprotoss steadily.
"And it is?"
Selendis cocked her head and returned Rosemary's gaze. "The protoss who accompanied you have verified your story in the Khala. Even those who are not overly fond of you."
It was meant as a sort of rebuke, but it had the opposite effect. Rosemary grinned suddenly. She was used to being disliked, and somehow, it gave her hope.
"Well, that's good. So when do we leave?"
"I do not know if we will depart at all. We must convince Artanis and the others that this is a worthy mission, worth taking the risk."
Rosemary had thought that all she needed was to get this female on her side. But apparently, convincing Selendis was just the first step. Out of God knew how many.
"I regret if you got that impression," said Selendis, answering what hadn't even been asked yet. "The final decision on such a thing involves many more than I."
"Stop doing that!" Rosemary snapped. "Let me say my thoughts out loud, don't just barge in and read them!"
"I apologize," the executor said unexpectedly. "I am unused to not being able to freely peruse surface thoughts. I shall not intrude uninvited again, unless I feel the need warrants it."
"Uh...okay. Thanks." It was something, anyway. Rosemary composed herself. "I'm.. .glad you believe me." Beside her, Vartanil, who had no compunctions about his thoughts being read, was delighted.
"I have asked for an audience," Selendis continued. "I have hopes they will grant it." "Can I get out of here?"
"They would prefer that you remain here, as our guest, until such time as you are given an audience." "I'm a prisoner, not a guest."
"If you choose to view it as such, that is your prerogative."
And Rosemary had thought that Zamara was maddening. This implacable protoss, with her proud bearing, unblinking gaze, and graceful armor, seemed to her even more frustrating.
"Do you not get what is going on here? While you observe the protocols, Jake could be dying—could be dead! And Zamara and her precious secret right along with him. I don't get this. Do you simply not care? Is this what has happened to the protoss? Have you all devolved into a bunch of damned bureaucrats?"
"Rosemary!" Vartanil said, for her mind only. "She is the executor! You should not show such disrespect!"
"She and the others shouldn't show such disrespect to Zamara and Jake," Rosemary thought back.
For a long, tense moment, Selendis did not answer. She stayed silent, unmoving, her thoughts shielded from Rosemary. After a few moments, Rosemary shifted her weight. Was the executor ever going to say something?
"Four years ago, my world was beautiful, verdant, and safe. Tassadar was the executor of the templar, and I was his liaison with Artanis. We had order, harmony, a system that supported everyone and placed each where his or her talents, skills, and temperament best served the whole. The dark templar were little more to us than a part of our past, a cancer that we had vigorously cut out in order to protect everything it meant to be protoss. Our culture thrived. We were happy, and we were ignorant.
"Now my world is broken. What Aiur once was, what it stood for, is no more. Zerg wander its wounded surface. A darkness almost unimaginable has taken root in the sacred caverns that were created by the xel'naga. It has harmed my people, subjected them to the chains of addiction, and warped and twisted their minds. Where it failed to do so, it has slain them.
"I stand no longer in a verdant jungle world, with sun and moonlight on my skin, content in my naivete. I stand now with all I know in turmoil and in question, on a world of blue sand and eternal twilight, united with the dark templar I once believed with every fiber of my being to be evil and corrupt. It is because of their mercy that I and my fellow protoss are even alive. And yet they threaten a heritage that I once vowed to preserve. You have heard our battle cry, Rosemary Dahclass="underline" My life for Aiur. I was not permitted to give my life for Aiur. I came with Artanis, and I stand by him still, and I protect what it means to be protoss. But I am not sure what that looks like anymore. Too much rested on my decision for me to decide lightly. I have chosen to champion you, a terran female, to those who are now the leaders of my people. The choice of what to do next rests in their hands. I cannot do more for you at this juncture."
Rosemary blinked. Anger flickered and died—a reaction born of a thousand moments before this, when she had been thwarted in one way or another from getting what she wanted. Selendis's words... shamed her. She had no right to be angry at the executor. Selendis was on her side. It was foolish—hell, it was wrong, Jake would be the first to say that—to lash out at someone who was trying to help.
"I'm sorry," Rosemary said. "I'm worried for my friend."
Selendis inclined her head. "I will continue to push for an audience soon. I am Artanis's protegee; I believe he will listen to me. Do not lose heart, Rosemary."
Selendis nodded to Vartanil, who bowed deeply, then turned and left. Rosemary gazed after her.
Do not lose heart.
An odd thing to say to someone who had frequently been accused of not having one.
Hang on, Jake. We 're doing the best we can here.
Jake was still reeling the following morning. They'd made camp in a meadow next to a copse of trees by a small stream. Zamara was uncharacteristically silent when he asked her what they should do next, so he'd headed off on his own to forage. He'd found a tree that yielded a strange fruit that was at once utterly peculiar and quite satisfying. White, breadlike flesh was covered with small green scales that one could peel off. Jake sat in the pink-hued sunshine, scales the size of his thumbnail falling into his lap as he "shelled" the fruit, then took a bite of the creamy flesh.
We will return to Zeratul once you have eaten and cleansed yourself.
Jake almost choked. What? He made it quite clear that he didn't want the company of either of us.
Indeed. But nevertheless, we shall return until he orders us away again. And then return the next day, and the day after that, until such time as he will listen to what I say.
Jake took another bite of the creamy-bready-strange fruit. What if he snaps? He didn't strike me as someone who really had his act together.
He will not "snap," as you phrase it. He is quite sane, Jacob. He is Just lost in the maze of his own despair and guilt. Over what exactly, he would not permit me to see. But I glimpsed enough. Zeratul would never harm a preserver. We simply must continue to approach him. We have come this far. I have endured so very much to get here—and you, perhaps even more, for this was not your battle.
If this secret is as dire as you keep making it sound, then it is my battle. And—Jake hesitated. And even if it wasn't...I've come to respect and like your people. I'll do what I can to help.