"Gabriel Mesta - StarCraft 02 - Shadow of the Xel'Naga" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mesta Gabriel)

ground-based threat.

The Zerg swarm was safe and secure.

Sarah Kerrigan wasn't worried, and certainly not afraid, but she was careful. She moved about restlessly
on powerful muscles, though she could see everything through the eyes of her minions if she chose.

Along with her remaining human ambition and the emotional sting of betrayal, she also felt the relentless
conquering urge that came from her new Zerg genetics.

In aeons long past, the mysterious and ancient race of the Xel'Naga had created the Zerg race, their
perfect design relentless and pure. Kerrigan smiled at the delicious irony of it. The Zerg had been so
perfect they had eventually turned on their creators and infested the Xel'Naga themselves.

Now that the leadership of all the swarms was in her own hands, Kerrigan promised herself that she
would lead the Zerg to the pinnacle of their destiny.

But when she sat back in her Hive and watched the swarming creatures going about their business,
gathering resources and preparing for war, the Queen of Blades felt the tiniest remnant of human
sympathy stirring in her heart.

She felt sorry foranyonewho got in her way.



CHAPTER 3
AS IF TAUNTING THEM WITH THE WEATHER'S capriciousness, the next morning on Bhekar Ro
dawned bright and clear. It reminded Octavia of the photo-images the original survey crew had shown
her grandparents to lure them and the first group of desperate settlers here.

Maybe it wasn't all lies after all. . . .

As she and Lars cracked open the door seal of their dwelling, a trickle of rainwater ran down from the
entryway, pattering onto the soft ground. High overhead, the angular shape of a glider hawk cruised
along, searching for the flooded-out bodies of drowned lizards.

Octavia trudged across the drying muck to the robo-harvester. With a shake of her short brown curls,
she set to work. She ran an experienced eye over the hull and noticed dozens of new hail craters
pounded into the metal, making it look like the rind of a sourange. Of course, nobody on Bhekar Ro
cared much about shiny paint jobs, as long as the equipment worked. She was relieved to find that the
storm had done no serious damage to the machinery.

Up and down the town streets, ragged colonists woke up and emerged from their houses to assess the
damage, as they had done so many times before. From a nearby dwelling, Abdel and Shayna Bradshaw
were already squabbling, dismayed at the amount of repair work they would have to do. From across the
street Kiernan and Kirsten Warner waved to Cyn McCarthy, who trotted toward the mayor's house at
the center of town, an optimistic smile on her freckled face in spite of the disaster. Good-natured Cyn
had a habit of offering her help wherever it might be needed, though the copper-haired young woman
often forgot to do what she had promised.