Marching on Aiur

Zeratul, my old friend. Whenever we needed you, you were nowhere to be found.

In the command tower on the bridge of the White Star, Augustus pondered to himself, his face showing concern.

Including the time needed for the allied forces to consolidate their troops, establish command authority, and determine the order of attack, the massive fleet had already been delayed here for several days. Yet they still had not received Zeratul's Ihan-rii Protoss fleet. By all prior arrangements, the Ihan-rii should have arrived long ago. A powerful enemy or some other unforeseen incident must have delayed their journey.

Time was long, and the universe vast. Even fleets equipped with next-generation Warp Drives could hardly avoid such situations.

Even so, it cast a shadow over the plan to march on Aiur.

At present, the allied fleet had already begun warping toward Aiur, converging into a single force to launch the final offensive.

On the holographic screen before the command console, the magnificent human and Protoss fleets followed their flagships into the jump. Along the edges of the acceleration fields spreading around each warship, blue flames seemed to burn, dazzling and spectacular.

"Zeratul and his Dark Templar have always followed principles that few others understood," Raynor said, lighting a cigarette and leaning against a console inlaid with a wolf-pattern relief. "Something must have held them up on the way. Otherwise, they would never have broken their word."

Everyone familiar with Zeratul knew that there was no need to make a fuss if he suddenly vanished and lost contact. It simply meant that the critical moment when the Dark Prelate truly needed to appear had not yet arrived.

Raynor exhaled a puff of smoke, looking considerably more relaxed. "They argued over it for a long time just now. Some people suspected the