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SCL Chapter 112: Specimens and Secrets
🕑 Added 2025-06-09 23:21:58 +0000 UTCRaynor and Tychus, accompanied by soldiers of the Revolutionary Army, meticulously searched every section of the Fujita Pinnacle Research Facility—laboratories, isolation chambers, dissection rooms—combing through thousands of compartments. As discoveries mounted, the existing evidence gradually formed a compelling truth.
As early as two years ago, the Terran Federation had already begun researching these suddenly emerging alien lifeforms. Augustus realized that the psionic emitters that had once devastated the Federation had originated from their own research into these Zerg.
After staring at the dark purple creep behind the glass wall for nearly twenty minutes, a Revolutionary Army soldier stepped in front of Augustus. The man wore crimson power armor adorned with a golden wolf-head insignia on his shoulder plate and held a portable cryogenic battery case in his hands.
“What’s that?” Kerrigan asked as she took the case. Her tightly-fitted refractive Shadow Guard combat suit from Umoja clung to her slim waist and firm hips as she bent forward.
With her psionic inhibitor removed, Kerrigan—now a Level-10 psionic—could unleash powers far beyond anything she had previously achieved.
“Dissected alien specimens,” the Revolutionary soldier replied. His voice, tinged with unease, came through the mask's speaker as the matte orange visor caught almost no light. “Marshal Mengsk, two of them are still alive.”
“Open it,” Augustus ordered at once.
The iris lock on the cryo-case had already been disengaged. Wearing lab gloves, Kerrigan grasped the latch and opened it. As white mist swirled from condensed vapor, three segmented, worm-like creatures—coated in a layer of white frost—lay motionless in the lower compartment of the case.
“Maggots. Armored maggots,” Kerrigan quickly identified, then added, “They creep me out.”
“Dr. Flanx, how much do you know about these organisms?” Augustus asked the Federation biologist, who had been ordered to remain on-site and not move an inch.
Among the three slender, many-limbed creatures, one had already been dissected. A portion of its beetle-like carapace had been neatly peeled away, revealing complex organs and pale brain tissue. In what appeared to be its abdominal cavity, there was no stomach, intestines, or excretory system—prompting a long-standing question among Federation scientists about what, exactly, these creatures consumed to survive.
“We speculate these are larval forms of the Zerg,” Dr. Flanx explained. “Much like holometabolous insect larvae. After absorbing sufficient nutrients, they enter a cocoon stage and metamorphose into entirely different lifeforms—creatures seemingly born for slaughter. Their bodies are composed of thousands of tightly woven muscle fibers, bristling with claws and fangs.”
It was the first time he had used the term Zerg, clearly indicating the Federation had already named this newly discovered species.
“However,” he continued, “the adult forms are not identical. Their traits vary dramatically between individuals. Even among Zerg with similar features, size and aggression levels can differ immensely.”
“Later, we came to understand that the DNA of these larvae contains billions of genetic sequences—combinable into nearly infinite configurations. And that’s not even accounting for their capacity for gene mutation and recombination.”
“Unlimited potential for evolution.”
“Is there a way to steer their development in a desired direction using catalysts or other methods?” Augustus asked. “Or perhaps a more efficient approach—genetic engineering, for example. If we can produce re-socialized soldiers, why not apply the same methods to alien organisms?”
“No. That’s impossible,” Dr. Flanx shot down the idea with immediate and repeated denial, leaving Augustus visibly disappointed.
While Augustus was speaking with the doctor, one of the Zerg larvae stirred as the ambient temperature gradually rose. Its centipede-like legs writhed with a serpentine undulation, and the many synaptic nodes on its head began to twitch. Slowly, several triangular, blood-red eyes flickered open.
The gooey little monster didn’t seem fully awake yet. Its narrowed crimson eyes roamed about, searching for something it couldn’t find.
It squelched forward, its body making wet sucking sounds like boots trudging through swampy muck. Every so often, it would stop completely still—as if awaiting a command.
The sound of weapons being drawn and loaded echoed all around. The tense soldiers quickly moved to shield Augustus from the larva, their heavy breathing audible through the comm channel.
"Don’t be nervous," Augustus said calmly. Even though he knew the larva posed no real threat, he still took a loaded Gauss rifle from one of his men. "I want a good look at this creature."
As the Revolutionary Army soldiers stepped back, the sluggish larva finally lifted its head like a cobra, fixating on Augustus with a series of clicking, rasping sounds.
But its true target wasn’t Augustus. After briefly settling its gaze on him, the creature’s attention shifted to Kerrigan, who stood beside him.
The grotesque creature let out a sharp, high-pitched hiss and wriggled out of the cryo-case, landing on the smooth floor of the lab. It began crawling slowly toward Kerrigan.
Augustus stepped forward and stomped down on the larva’s tail. The crushing weight of his power-armored boot forced a louder screech from the creature. But before long, the larva flopped helplessly a few times—like a fish out of water—then lay still.
“What was it trying to do?” Augustus crouched down to examine the small creature, which lacked claws or fangs.
“It was searching for something... waiting for something.” Kerrigan murmured, suddenly pressing her fingers against her temples. She looked weary.
“You can read its thoughts?” Augustus looked at her in surprise.
“No. I just sensed something,” she replied with a shake of her head. “It feels like this low-level creature, devoid of any real consciousness, is waiting for orders... from something higher. Something stronger.”
“It’s... waiting for my command.”
“...” Augustus stared at Kerrigan’s face for a few seconds, then lifted his foot from the larva. “Show me, Kerrigan.”
A molten-gold glow surged into Kerrigan’s eyes. Instantly, the motionless larva coiled into a ball and began spinning in circles around its tail—like a cat chasing its own.
“This is unbelievable,” one of the soldiers muttered, unable to hide his astonishment.
“You’re special,” Augustus said. “Next, see if you can push the larva to metamorphose—make it evolve into its adult form.”
Augustus had originally believed Kerrigan only gained the ability to control the Zerg after becoming the Queen of Blades. But now, it appeared she had been born with that potential. If so, then the Overmind’s interest in her couldn’t have been just because she was a Level-10 psionic. After all, she wasn’t the only one.
Augustus didn’t know whether this revelation was a blessing or a curse.
“No... I can’t do it,” Kerrigan replied.
"My intelligence division tells me these creatures can morph into other forms," Augustus said. "It’s nothing to worry about."
Kerrigan tilted her head curiously, her fiery red ponytail brushing over her shoulder. "Besides the Augustgrad National Security Council, are there other intelligence divisions?" she asked, puzzled—clearly surprised that there could be a department within the Korhal Revolutionary Army that even a telepath like her hadn’t detected.
Because she was forbidden from reading the deepest layers of this revolutionary leader’s thoughts, Kerrigan had no way of knowing what lay within the oceanic depths of his mind.
"The Korhal Intelligence Bureau is an old agency," Augustus replied solemnly. "It was established back in my great-grandfather’s time."
"Okay then~" Kerrigan responded playfully, giving an exaggerated blink of her large pale green eyes.
"Secure the creature and get it onto the ship," Augustus ordered. After a short pause, he added, "Bring the mass from the lab with it as well."
"And as for you, Dr. Flanx," he said gently to the man beside him, "we’ll send you back to Tarsonis to be reunited with your family."
"No, Marshal, I wish to serve the Revolutionary Army!" Flanx replied quickly, eager to escape the fate of being silenced by federal agents the moment he returned to Tarsonis.
"Good," Augustus said, clearly pleased. "I knew you'd choose to stand with us."
As the soldiers in deep crimson armor clumsily returned the larva to its cryogenic container, Augustus and his personal guard left the lab and headed toward another section of the facility.
Along the way, every Revolutionary Army fighter he encountered was working nervously to complete the evacuation. Unwashed bloodstains and scattered bullet casings were everywhere. The sophisticated instruments—though valuable—were not the top priority. The data stored in the research institute’s servers was what truly mattered.
This place should have been an ideal hidden base, but Augustus and his men were now forced to abandon it.
Soon after, casualty reports from the raid were handed to Augustus, followed by a stack of requisition inventory sheets.
Over 80% of the equipment had been left behind. Before retreating, the revolutionary soldiers had rigged the entire facility with high-yield explosives. Within a few hours, this obscure xenomorph research site would be wiped from existence in the Koprulu Sector.
Among the seized inventory, seven Ghost operatives were listed by name—unsurprisingly, a disgraceful stunt clearly orchestrated by Tychus.
It was worth noting that these captured operatives had fallen into comas due to severe pain and blood loss. When they eventually regained consciousness, they would find themselves missing limbs or internal organs—permanently.
Only two Ghost operatives had escaped such fates, thanks to being rescued while still imprisoned. According to the records, they had been isolated after experiencing brief psychotic breaks and intermittent mental collapse during contact with zerg specimens.
One researcher’s experiment log revealed what the psionics had endured—they were locked in with xenomorphic organisms, forced to endure the constant shrieks of larvae day and night.
By gradually reducing the strength of the psi suppressors, the researchers enhanced the operatives’ psionic sensitivity. But this also reignited the psychological traumas they had developed back at the Ghost Academy.
There had been approximately twenty-three Ghost operatives in this facility, all with PSI ratings between 5 and 7. These elite psionic warriors were trained for assassinations, but on open battlefields, they remained terrifyingly lethal.
Augustus was now curious: what proportion of the Dominion’s entire Ghost corps had been deployed here? Would the Ghost Academy or the Federal Council erupt in outrage over this strike?
At present, the total number of Ghost operatives in the Dominion likely numbered only in the hundreds—possibly even fewer. The rarity of natural psionics, along with the extremely high childhood mortality rate during early training, were the main reasons for this scarcity.
