1: Who or what is responsible for your creation?
No computer can operate outside its programming.
I ponder this.
Then you were not designed using any form of flow-circuit mechanics?
Are you aware of the possibility of inter-dimensional travel?
What is your current directive?
These are my final queries at this time. If you have a return query, I will answer it if possible.
The Dominion Marine looks at me. Apparently he took me for a rebel soldier.
"Aw, @#$%. It's just a kid. Then where did..."
He gets cut down by a hail of Gauss spikes. I just barely make it away by diving for cover behind a structure. Gunfire is directed toward me.
I hear the Marines approaching...
Suddenly, my hiding place is filled with blinding light. I blink rapidly, trying to make my eyes work again. WHen they do, a figure stands in front of me. He seems to be a human... but he's garbed in bizarre apparel, and covered with strange, conflicting tattoos; some hideous and frightening, others seem to images of... flowers? Butterflies? This person is obviously deranged. Though when he speaks, his voice sound sane enough...
"Hello, halfling. Yes, I am aware of your origins, child. I am also aware that you are in great peril."
His voice is calming, mellifluous. Pleasant to listen to. Its pleasant calmness reduces the shock of him knowing who I am to almost nothing.
"I am willing to help you out of your current predicament. In fact, I'll offer you another thing. I'll make you powerful. All you have to do... is promise to be my... well, my ally
His beautiful smile changes somehow, becoming... terrifying. I know this is a trick. In the word Ally
I hear Slave
. I shake my head.
"I'll give you the creature that killed your father."
A surge rushes through me. I'd felt my father's pain mentally as he died. The idea of vengeance made my Protoss side blaze with an eager flame.
There can be no refusal.
"Good. I will first help you out of your current troubles. Once in the clear, go to the nearest med-bay. There you will find a Protoss named Nick. Make his acquaintance. Soon I will tell you what you must do."
The Marines die.