The Odd Couple

[Jim Raynor]

The sun was relentless. Despite his thick beard and skin tempered by forge fires, Swann's face blushed with warmness. His exposed biceps, the only other part of his body unshielded from the blazing fireball in the sky, had taken on a pale ruddiness. His fingers, moist with sweat inside his leather glove, ached from gripping the handlebars of the motorcycle for so long; thankfully his metal arm had no such weakness. His thighs thudded with soreness, having straddled the stiff machine for so long. He considered pulling over for a break, but what good would that do? With no trees for shade or rivers for water, it would only delay them and continue baking their bodies. Swann could endure a little discomfort.
 
His protoss friend, however, was struggling with their mode of transportation. Having found his original legs-over-the-side arrangement distasteful, he rearranged his lanky body until he awkwardly kneeled in the side car, back bent over its front to keep stable. His pallid skin hadn't burned from the harsh sun at all, though Rory recalled him saying that his people consumed light through their pores. But could he overeat? Was it like someone trying to shove cake in his mouth when he closed it? Rory mused on whether he should pose the question, but decided not to.
 
He wondered if he should say it anyway, since their uneventful trip had been silent save for moments where Karax redirected their path. Swann was used to gabbing to his team when plying his trade, or doing anything really. Yet the protoss warp-smith had been reticent to initiate conversation, perhaps finely focused on the mental signal that guided them through the baking sands. Still, the sound of the wind sweeping past his ears was growing monotonous. He had to do something to break it.
 
"So ... we gettin' closer to the beacon or what?" Swann asked.
 
Karax kept his shimmering eyes on the horizon. <We are always growing closer, Rory Swann, or else I would advise you to change course.>
 
"Huh ... yeah, right. Makes sense." Swann growled quietly, the sound hidden by the muffling breeze. That didn't work. Man, why was it so hard to start a conversation with this guy? Didn't he know there has to be some give and take for it to happen? Isn't he feeling weird about how quiet they were together? Surely they should try to get to know one another a little? Road trips were always fantastic for that.
 
The terran engineer cleared his throat. "So, uh ... when did you start followin' Artanis 'round?"
 
<I don't see how this discussion pertains to the matter at hand, Rory Swann.>
 
"It doesn't!" Swann said. "I'm just tryin'a make some small talk! Ya know, cut the silence for a bit? Get ta know you?"
 
<There is no need. I am focused on the task at hand, as are you.>
 
Swann furrowed his brow and stared over the handlebars. The sky's sheer blue was bleeding away as the sun sank towards the edges of the horizon. "OK, OK, I get it. I'll shut up."
 
Karax took his gaze from the dunes for the first time in hours to look at Swann. <I'm sorry if I am making you uncomfortable, Rory Swann. I simply do not see the purpose in->
 
"Yes, Karax, I understand," Swann said in a defeated but good-humoured tone. "Sometimes I gotta remember we ain't the same species. There's gonna be some stuff we don't think the same on." Geez, that doesn't sound like me. Must be Jimmy rubbin' off on me.
 
Karax's eyes crinkled as if he were smiling. <Indeed. I will ... endeavour to accommodate your ... different viewpoint. But for now, I think it would be best if I->
 
Rory nodded. "No sweat, bud. Get back ta scannin' and I'll keep this hunk'a junk movin'."
 
<Thank you, Rory Swann.>
 
The miles steadily rolled by them as the sun continued its faithful descent. Swann's eyes trailed the hilly desert before them and stopped as a sparkle drew his attention.
 
"Hey Karax, uh, are we close to the beacon?"
 
<We are getting closer, yes. I do not believe we are far from our goal.>
 
"Is it in that direction?" he asked, pointing at the glinting object.
 
<Yes. Why do you ask?>
 
"I think I can see a building out here. Could be where this damn beacon is."
 
<Yes. Yes I believe you may be right, Rory Swa->
 
A great rumbling shook the dunes. Swann's teeth rattled in his jaw, his eyes wobbling like jelly. A low booming flooded his hearing until he couldn't hear his own shouted question to Karax. He slammed on the brakes, unable to feel the jostling of the old motorcycle's engine over the quake. He stared at the sands, able to make out the tiny grains shifting and oscillating in place, tumbling down the dunes in golden streams.
 
<I'm not sure what you said, Rory Swann, but I do not know the cause of this disturbance,> Karax's telepathic voice emanated within his head. <However, I am very concerned about its source.>
 
Swann wanted to say "you're tellin' me" but before he could utter it uselessly amongst the white noise, a massive shockwave blasted the sands before them into the sky in a thick, unified sheet. Swann was fired from the motorcycle seat like an artillery shell out of a siege tank and plummeted into the yielding sand, raking a trench in his wake. Sitting up and spitting grains from his lips, he spotted Karax lying nearby, coming to his senses as well.
 
"How the hell ..." Swann said as he stared at the yellow wall that loomed over them. The sands reached the apex of their height, and in a terrifying wave, swept downwards towards them.
 
"Holy shit!" Swann scrambled to his feet and tore towards Karax. He grabbed the protoss' arm and yanked him up. They sprinted as the sands collapsed behind them, sending out an ear-ringing crash. The wave rumbled after them, sounding like a thousand glass mugs smashing against the ground, ringing until Swann wanted to tear his ears off. He slammed his hands over them and continued sprinting, elbows pointed to his sides.
 
<I don't believe we can outrun this,> Karax projected into his mind. <The sands are moving too fast.>
 
Swann opened his mouth to retort, but sand piled in, and an irresistible force shoved him in the back. The scouring grains poured over his skin, and he held his breath as a fresh tomb rushed over the top of him.