Periphery

"And while my life will always be for Aiur…my heart…will always be for you."

Oh come on!

Jake Ramsey had had enough of this. He'd had it. Had it with Project Blackstone. Had it with Held, Branamoor, and the Dominion that they served. And he'd had it with this 'film.' Heroes of the Periphery, the story of the love between a Ghost and templar amidst interstellar war. A Ghost and templar who were now engaged in vocal contact…amazing, considering that protoss didn't even have mouths.

I've had it. Screw it.

Jake got up from his chair, determined to leave the holo-hall and find something else to occupy his mind with. He walked out as the uplifting music played behind him. Walked out as he saw Rothfuss shovel down a handful of popcorn, Talise dab her eyes with a handkerchief, and Red snore away into the bottle he was carrying. He exited the room just as the music was cut off by the sounds of explosions and zerg.

Fekk it.

And then it stopped. Out in the corridor, it stopped. The archaeologist found himself alone. A partly desirable state of affairs, he reflected. But he was still without Rosemary. Without his old dig team. Even Valerian's presence would have been somewhat comforting.

More explosions sounded, even filtering out into the hallway. Apparently the holo was nearing its climax, or had resorted to explosions to drive what amounted to its plot forward. Either way, Jake decided to head for his quarters. Alone in form. Alone in his thoughts. Bereft of the voice within his head that he'd become used to.

Jake?

He spun around. The voice. It was telepathic. It was-

"Winlaleah?"

I told you not to call me that.

Then get out of my head.

There were no more voices, so it appeared Winlaleah had obliged. Or "Leah," as Jake reminded himself, watching the Ghost-turned scientist hobble down the hallway towards him. The very mention of her formal name seemed to distress her, Jake had noticed. As if it was a reminder of hard times, or a relic of a life that no longer existed. Leah was of course part of her real name, but to her, it was just a façade. Something to shield her inner self from the surrounding world.

How very human.

Jake shook it off. He was still human too, he reminded himself, regardless of what Zamara had done to his mind and, if such a thing existed, his soul.

"Didn't expect to find you out here," Leah said, coming to a halt and resting against one of the corridor's walls, rubbing her leg as she did so. "Didn't Branamoor acquiesce to movie night?"

"You could say that," Jake murmured. "But either the guy's got terrible taste in movies or he wants to drive us out of the holo-room so we can get back to work."

"That bad huh?" Leah asked. "What movie was it?"

"Heroes of the Periphery."

The scientist's eyes lit up. "Ooh, I heard about that one. Isn't that where a Ghost falls in love with a templar and-"

"And it's got some of the worst dialogue I've ever heard," Jake interrupted. "I-"

"My life for Aiur, my heart for you?" Leah asked. "What's so bad about that?"

"Protoss have three hearts, not one. And there's no evidence that they even associate their hearts with love the same way that terrans do."

It briefly occurred to Jake that Leah must have read his mind – how else would she have known about the dialogue, or at least, which dialogue that he was thinking of particularly? He let it slide though. He was past caring.

And granted, Leah had gone through so much shit as well that he didn't really feel like chastising her for it. The altercation with Held. The experiments on the protoss. Experiments that she'd probably have to get back to soon if she was able to walk about. Or hobble about. He didn't know what had happened to her leg. Given her background as a Ghost, he supposed he didn't want to know.

"Anyway, see ya," the former archaeologist murmured. "Tomorrow's another day. Or would be, if we weren't on an asteroid."

Come on Jake, what's keeping ya?

The archaeologist stopped walking. He could outpace her footsteps. Maybe even her voice. But her teeping could go a lot further.

We've all seen bad movies. We've all seen movies that get their facts wrong for the sake of a good story. Why's this one so bad?

Leah had managed to hobble after him a bit. Enough that there wasn't any excuse for her not to use her voice.

"It's nothing," Jake said. He tried to start walking.

Like hell it's nothing.

Get out of my head Leah.

Only when you tell me. And I can dig around here if you insist on being obstinate.

And Jake stopped walking again. There it was. The ultimatum. Not much better when he'd been shipped off to the Blackstone facility without consent, really.

The archaeologist turned around and leant against the wall. Evolution was a bitch, he figured. For hundreds of thousands of years humans had to communicate with spoken words, only for fate to decide it would be great to give them psionic powers. For a select few. Now he knew how it must have felt to be a Neanderthal.

"I've…interacted with the protoss," Jake said eventually. "A lot. And they don't talk like love-struck puppies."

"But they do talk, right," Leah said. "I mean…well, what did you talk about?"

"Stuff."

It had been considerably more than 'stuff,' Jake reflected. But the xel'naga and their cycle of rebirth wasn't something he felt like discussing, or indeed, if he was even allowed to discuss it. Valerian knew. Chances were his father knew. And considering the type of man Arcturus Mengsk was, he'd likely want as few of his subjects knowing as well.

"Let's just say that knowing a protoss is…different," Jake murmured. "It's…it's not human. It's deeper than anything we could conceive. It's like knowing someone as well as you know yourself. And when you lose that someone…it's…" He faced the floor, praying Leah wasn't reading his mind. "It's like losing a part of yourself as well."

Jake kept staring at the floor. He didn't know why he was here. Why anyone in the Dominion would give a damn about what it felt like to have a sapient being inside your head. To be part of the Khala. Neither of those things would give them a military edge, so what was the point?

No-one would know. Not like him. Not now. Probably not ever. He…

…felt Leah's hand on his shoulder. He glanced up at her. If she'd read his mind, there was nothing he could do. In a way, he no longer cared. Humans kept secrets. Protoss didn't. It was a difference that reminded him of how petty humanity actually was.

"Jake…I won't ask if you don't want me to," she said softly. "But…I think you still know yourself."

"What makes you say that?" the researcher grunted.

Leah smiled. Then came forward. Then kissed him.

"Because I know you. And I know you know yourself."

Jake blinked. His first thoughts were of Rosemary. Then Zamara. Then of the fact that protoss didn't have mouths, so that for all the things they could do that humans couldn't, kissing wasn't one of them.

Watching Leah smile at him and walk back down the hall, brushing his cheek where her lips had met his skin, Jake wondered if he should have kept watching the movie.