As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the law runneth forward and back. For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.

Rudyard Kipling

Lord of the Pack

"Ah, Dehaka. You look…well."

"Kerrigan."

"Big. Strong. Muscular."

"The enemy. They are grass, while I am the grazer."

And still inarticulate. But there's promise there I suppose.

Dehaka couldn't read her mind. Stretching out her own, Sarah Kerrigan, the Queen of Blades, touched upon his thoughts. They were little different from an animal, barely above on of her own strains. Even calling it thought at all was stretching it, as the thought stream was little more than instinct.

Find essence. Kill. Take. Evolve.

Well, she didn't need Dehaka to speak, she needed him to do all those things that floated around in that little head of his. Because here on Tarsonis, as the Moebius Corps tried to ferry supplies to a nearby starport, she'd deployed her zerg to find them, kill them, and leave the scraps for any terrans who weren't mindless slaves. Only Amon had deployed his zerg as well, and history from six years past had repeated itself. Zerg fighting zerg on Tarsonis, one group following their queen, the other in the thrall of a usurper. And, she had to admit, if Dehaka hadn't returned with his pack, ploughing through Amon's zerg like fire through dry brush, the usurpers might have won that battle.

"I like your friends," Kerrigan said eventually.

"Underlings. Not friends. Friends are equals. Pack leaders not equal. I lead them."

"Yes," she said. "Of course you do."

The two stood there, on the desolate sands of the ruined capital world of the Confederacy. It seemed she was always fated to come back here. Once to destroy a world, once to defend a world, and now, for the third time, take part in a battle that could influence the fate of worlds beyond count. She was here because on the biological level, Amon needed to be defeated in order for life, zerg or otherwise, to survive. She was here on the moral level because saving the lives of those threatened by the fallen xel'naga might come close to redeeming her of her own sins.

But why are you here? The Queen of Blades wondered, looking up at the creature that stood above her. Why come back? Why now?

She could have made him talk. She'd seen Dehaka tear through Amon's zerg as if they were nothing, but even his might was not limitless. And her zerg on Tarsonis numbered in the tens of thousands, his pack was in the hundreds at the very most. But, she stood still as he lumbered off to his nesting ground. She turned as well, but-

"Why are you here, Dehaka?"

He turned. She stood her ground.

"One year ago, you left me. And now you're back here. Why?"

"The queen. She missed me?"

Was he joking? Surely he wasn't joking. Dehaka didn't joke. Zerg didn't joke. It was one of the laws of creation that neither gods nor mortals could break.

"I'm curious," she said. She forced a smile. "After all, you followed me after the deaths of the other primals. I might take umbrage at that…betrayal."

"No essence after Korhal. Left. Expanded pack. Grew stronger. Survive."

"And yet you're here," Kerrigan said, still smiling. "On a dead world fighting creatures that you had access to for months. I'd have thought that if you wanted to survive, you'd stay out of things."

"Amon seeks control. Essence will stop flowing. Must not stop. Must evolve."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"You, not queen. Dehaka leads. Dehaka does not answer."

He lumbered away again, and Kerrigan didn't follow. Her smile turned into a frown – did he just defy her? Had he just been wry? The answer to both questions was 'yes,' but that didn't answer the only question that mattered as to why Dehaka was here. If his only goal was to grow strong and evolve, it would have made more sense to wait out the battle and turn on the victor. It might have made even more sense to stay out of the conflict entirely. Because as she'd already noted, there weren't many primal zerg left. Even if the war against Amon was won, such small numbers could condemn them to extinction. There was some logic in banding together against a universal threat, but Kerrigan wasn't sure…

Are you troubled, my queen?

Izsha. I'm fine.

My queen-

What's the status of the train?

Dominion forces under James Raynor have accessed the Moebius supplies. I would theorize that they will put them to use.

Jim. Kerrigan could see him through the eyes of her scouts. See many around him. Could see him as if she was standing there herself. But she wasn't. And she couldn't bring herself to. He might welcome her. The soldiers under his command wouldn't. And she already had one distraction in the form of Dehaka's presence. She couldn't afford another.

Your orders, my queen?

She paused. Her eyes were locked on Dehaka's nest.

My queen?

Gather the Swarm. We depart this world.

Our destination?

Wherever Amon's forces are. We'll find them, kill them, and keep killing them until one of us is dead.

Izsha didn't answer. She didn't need to. Through the hive mind, Kerrigan felt her zerg moving towards their transports. Overlords would take them to leviathans in orbit. The leviathans would leave the Tarsonis system, and the bloodshed would begin anew. As always, she'd be there to lead them. But…

She began walking over to Dehaka's nest. She had one more thing to do on this world. She watched as smaller primals hissed and roared at her. Larger than her zerglings, but more bestial. More deadly. Still she walked. Right up to the pack leader himself.

"You," Dehaka said. "Back."

"I'm leaving," Kerrigan said. "Chances are we won't see each other again."

The smaller primals fell silent. Kerrigan suspected that not seeing her again was something they'd relish.

"You, fight," Dehaka said. "Primal zerg, fight. Enemy falls. Blood spilt. The river flows."

"I know," Kerrigan said. "And I'd like to know why."

"You. Not queen."

"Not your queen, no," Kerrigan said. "But here's what I think."

"Think?"

"I think you're here because it's the right thing to do," Kerrigan said. "I think that on some fundamental level, you understand that the end of life as we know it isn't something you want to occur. Essence, morality, something in-between."

"Strong stand. Weak fall. Essence taken."

"I know. And for what it's worth…I thank you for it. Even if others won't."

"Do not seek thanks. Seek victory."

"We all do," Kerrigan said. "But you can take my thanks regardless."

Dehaka didn't say anything. The primals around him remained silent. The Queen of Blades turned round and began walking towards her own hive cluster. Through the hive mind, she ordered an overlord to come and retrieve her. It would reach her within minutes. She would leave, and possibly never see Dehaka or his pack again. It was almost a pity. She'd miss the conversation.

And on some level, damn it, she'd miss him.

Maybe, on another level entirely, he knew that.