While the rest of the crew tried to figure out what to do about the Zerg infestation, Nada tinkered with the station controls. Ultimately, he smirked. "Zerashk gulida," came a satisfied whisper.

"What was that? The rash gouda? Huh?" one of the other Marines, grown bored with the discussion, had approached the controls and was watching over Nada's shoulder.

"Your mind deceives you. I said nothing."

"What were you doing just there?" He searched the screen for answers, but his eyes glazed over after a second. "Man, I hate computers."

But by then the others were also watching. "That gouda of yours smells mighty cheesy," said one. "And not the good kind of cheese either. Smells like Protoss cheese. And I hate that." Terrans simply could not stop complaining about Protoss cheese. And on that note, Nada was summarily shot by his crewmates.

But rather than falling to the floor a bloodied corpse, Nada simply vanished in a puff of blue smoke. "Spray the room!"

The Dark Templar rushed for safety as bullets blindly streaked across the room, a barely visible ripple in movement. What bullets happened to connect were deflected by the plasma shield that surrounded him.

Still, there was no escape. Once detected, the lone Dark Templar could not stand against the trigger-happy Marines. Every time a bullet ricocheted off his plasma shield, his position was revealed. The concentrated fire soon depleted his shield's power, and by the time the shadows released Nalra's body, the bloody mound of flesh had little resemblance to any form of humanoid being.

The Protoss assassin was no longer a threat.

Yunalesca is dead. She was the Nerazim Prelate Nalra, an assassin of the Protoss, and won when all others on the Station were dead.

Night now begins. You have until Sunday night to provide me with your night actions. The Day will begin then, or when all night actions have been sent. No more discussion in this thread please.