Darkainia, the planet of Scribes. A pretty, water rich, Class M planet sitting on the edge of Confederation space. It was of modest value, being relatively poor with minerals or Vespene gas compared to its sister planets in Confed space. It was also far away from the normal space lanes. Thus, the human Confederacy had always tolerated its independence.
But the Zerg didn't care.
Six weeks after the newsnets were screaming about alien invasion and the Protoss razing of Mar Sara, the Swarm appeared over Darkainia.
The common people were unprepared. Used to being ignored, the idyllic agricultural world was ravaged by the unrelenting fury of the Swarm. Zerg appeared in all major population centers. First came the ominous crablike Guardians, bombarding humanity's cities with spore bombs. Later came the Hydralisks and Zerglings rushing through the streets, clawing at anything that dared move.
Unprepared for the inhuman savagery of the Swarm, most of Darkainia soon became covered in the purplish fungal mat the humans called Creep.
Most, but not all.
The liberation of Darkainia is about to begin.
STARCRAFT
Ad Liberation
The five siege tanks rolled through deserted city streets, stopping in the middle of a large plaza. As soon as it stopped, it emanated the loud hiss of pneumatics as stabilising rods unfolded from the tanks' bodies, burying themselves into the ground as the main cannons began to telescope out from the turrets.
In less than a minute the five Darkainian siege tanks were fully sieged.
"This is Lt. Jing. We are in position," said the blue-eyed, brown haired commander of the lead tank in the formation through the radio. The young Darkainian lieutenant was barely twenty, but he had already established a reputation during the Darkainian's resistance to the Zerg invasion. Eighty six notches were carved into his tank's gun barrel, that was back in the early days when the Darkainian forces bothered with kill counts. But the Zerg were so numerous, coming in endless waves that seemingly never ended, that even the "Manoeuvring Ace" no longer bothered keeping count.
"Roger that, Lt. The Marines are coming in," came the reply.
It was a bright Thursday afternoon, but the smoke and dust of battle obscured Jing's vision, forcing him to rely on his tank's infrared imaging systems. He saw several bright shapes advancing slowly towards him.
Jing smiled. The Darkainian Marines.
The Marines made their way sullenly to the safety of the tanks, their numbers thinned yet again in bitter house to house fighting as they uprooted every last Zergling, every snarling Hydralisk, from the city.
Ninety seven proud men from what was once two hundred men walked slowly, purposefully towards the relative safety of Lt. Jing's tanks. Before the Zerg invasion, these men were part-time soldiers at best, most of the preferring to indulge their free time in the planet's favourite pastime, writing and reading literature, rather than engage in combat. Now they no longer read about heroic battles against overwhelming odds: they lived them.
At the very rear of the Marines, a single Marine Captain limped slowly, painfully towards safety. He limped, grunting in pain every step of the way, the massive weight of his body and dark gray combat armour supported on the shoulders of a beautiful medic in white combat armour.
"Come on, Leo. Only two hundred meters to go before we reach the perimeter," the medic said, in her best calming tones. However, nothing can hide the faint trace of worry in her voice. For this particular marine was no ordinary grunt. Captain Leo Kozlov was her husband of five years.
"Think… it's time for a stimpack?" Leo asked, grinning wickedly at his wife, despite his pain. Three Zerglings had swarmed the captain, wickedly clawing at him with their horrible appendages, his standard issue marine armour first buckling, then tearing beneath the horrible onslaught as metal plates tore away and the Zergling claws hooked into the tender flesh underneath. Only quick action by a Firebat saved Leo from being another casualty of the Zerg.
"No more drugs, honey. You've already taken three stimpacks." Sarah said coolly even though it hurt her deeply to see her gentle husband like this.
"Not even for me, Valkyrie?" he asked, smiling ironically. Throughout the war, Sarah had earned the name, saving many men from painful deaths at the hands of the Zerg. They both knew the men practically kept shrines to her.
"God, not you too, Leo. It's embarrassing!" she protested as they came closer to the makeshift perimeter their fellow Marines set up around the plaza.
Leo smiled. "Yeah, Sarah, but you look so cute when you blush, every time the men call you that,"
"Oh, shush," Sarah said as they took the last steps towards relative safety, a small cheer erupting from the men as they stepped past the perimeter.
Jing clambered out of his siege tank, eagerly running towards Leo, even as Sarah laid him down on the ground, her fingers quickly working the pneumatic clasps of her husband's armour loose.
"Holy Shit, Captain. I thought we agreed no heroics this time," Jing said, smiling as Sarah brought out what the men called "instruments of torture", her field surgery kit.
Leo smiled as he flashed the finger at his Darkainian Army comrade.
"Hey Jing!" shouted out another Marine standing nearby.
Jing turned around to see Hiraishin walk in his direction. He widened his eyebrows in curiosity, wondering what the "sand rat" had to say.
"Hey bitch, you owe me another 100 credits. Took the Starport in half the estimated time," Hiraishin gloated as Jing scowled in displeasure at losing yet another bet. The damnable marines were almost making his tank boys look bad.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Army boy," Hiraishin said smiling as he pocketed the money in one of the ammo storage compartments of his combat armour as Jing made his way back to his tank to give Lord Deathscythe the good news.
"Bandit King Jing to Deathscythe. We've secured the Starport."
Chris Smith smiled, as his wing of twelve Wraiths made their way towards the newly liberated city. The ruler of Darkainia, a proud young man still in his twenties wasn't the best pilot, but the war meant that everyone who knew how to pilot a Wraith was needed in the cockpit, no matter what his social standing was. He really didn't mind. His Deathscythe wing had done substantial damage, bombing Zerg sunken colonies and shooting down Mutalisks while the grunts below cleared the ground.
Things were going well. The purple Creep wasn't so pervasive now. Granted, much of the planet was still overrun with Zerg, but the fortified areas where the Darkainians staged their counterattacks were growing stronger and the Creep had stopped advancing, in some places even retreating.
As far as the Lord Deathscythe, Ruler of Darkainia was concerned, the war was going well.
"This is Deathscythe. Looks like there's going to be another liberation party when we land, boys," he said, smiling as his wingmates broke into spontaneous cheers.
"Hey boss," said Zoro50, one of the Wraith pilots. "Something's coming up on radar,"
"Mutas?" Asked Soulfire, another member of the Deathscythe Wing.
"Does it matter?" Deathscythe replied over the radio. "Point us in the right direction, Zoro, and take them down,"
Sure enough as the pilots of the Deathscythe wing hit their thrusters the Zerg fliers came into view. A squadron, if the Zerg understood the concept, of thirty six angry-looking mutalisks, beating their wings as they made their way towards the newly liberated city.
The flyboys knew that Jing and Leo's men were in danger. If the Mutalisks did not encounter serious resistance, soon the Guardians will follow. And the Guardians will mercilessly spore bomb Jing's tanks.
"Engage cloaks!" Deathscythe ordered.
Immediately the twelve Wraiths seemed to shimmer in the bright afternoon sun, then faded away first to transparency, then invisibility as the cloak fields engaged.
"Break formation, flying pattern Alpha Three Iota!" Deatscythe commanded as the Wraiths broke formation and circled the unsuspecting Mutalisks.
Immediately chaos reigned as the Wraiths fired their missiles, the silvery fish of death discharging seemingly from nowhere. Deathscythe smiled with satisfaction as he personally finished off three Mutalisks, their hideous wormlike bodies splattering in mid air. He felt grim satisfaction as he began the slaughter of the confused Mutalisks.
But suddenly they didn't seem so confused anymore. They began spitting out the dreaded Glaive Wurms in the general direction of the Wraiths.
"Goddammit, he got me," Soulfire shouted out as Glaive Wurms tore a furrow in his tail fin. He took no chances and banked sharply left, trying to avoid two Mutalisks that were now doggedly chasing him even though he was still technically invisible.
"Everyone try to engage them one on one, and for God's sakes, don't group together!" Deathscythe shouted as he fired another missile at a Mutalisk, which missed by several feet. The mutalisk replied by spitting a series of Glaive Wurms at him, some of which grazed the aluminium wings of his Wraith.
"Dammit," Deathscythe muttered. There was only one way the Mutalisks could shoot at cloaked planes - if there was an Overlord nearby. These bloated, floating brain like sacs somehow could past the humans' cloaking fields, which made life difficult for the Deathscythe Wing time and time again.
"Where the fuck is that overlord?!" shouted Soulfire angrily as he desperately engaged in several high-G manoeuvres to shake off the pursuing Mutalisks.
"I see it on radar! 12 o'clock high!" shouted Zoro as a Glaive Wurm barely missed his plane.
"Launch every missile at it! Ignore all other targets!" ordered Deathscythe as he decloaked.
"LD! What the fuck are you doing? Re-cloak!" shouted Soulfire as every single Mutalisk broke off their individual targets and converged on LD.
"Get that overlord!" Deathscythe shouted as he flew his decloaked plane straight at the mass of Mutalisks, firing his lasers wildly.
"I see it!" Zoro said calmly.. "I have missile lock," he continued.
"FUCK! Hurry up!" Deathscythe said as he took a sharp dive, several Glaive Wurms hot on his exhaust trail.
"Launching!" Zoro said.
There was a muffled boom, followed by a thud. Deathscythe felt his Wraith shake as some of the Glaive Wurms hit an engine, causing it to automatically shut down. As his plane spiralled and he fought to regain control, Deathscythe activated the cloaking field.
The next five minutes were a blur to him as he concentrated on keeping his shaking plane level. By the time he wrestled the Wraith back to a viable speed and altitude, the battle was already over.
"Hey boss," said Epyon, another member of the Deathscythe Wing as he flew his plane alongside. He could see Epyon give the thumbs up.
Beneath the oxygen mask, Deathscythe smiled. It was close, and Ryoji wasn't going to be happy to see his damaged plane, but all twelve members of the Deathscythe wing survived to fight another day.
******
Twelve dark grey Wraiths made their final approach runs, targeting the large round landing zone of the city's newly liberated Starport.
"Attention Deathscythe Wing, this is the Control Tower," said a pleasant, if slightly monotonous female voice through the radio. "Proceed with automated landing programs, routine B."
An excited whoop went out from Ken Sohryu's plane.
"Rogzieeeeeel baby!" Ken shouted over the radio network, to the amusement of his wingmates. "Big daddy pump's a coming down for some hot robotic LOVING baby. You ready for some human style loving once I get back on solid ground?". Ken continued to tease Rogziel.
There was a brief, almost polite silence, as the Wraiths approached the Starport. Then Rogziel spoke again.
"I'm sorry, Ken, but I don't seem to have my physical body around to love you with," Rogziel answered smoothly.
Despite the effort of keeping his Wraith level with only one working engine, Deathscythe chuckled to himself when he heard the exchange. Rogziel was the Adjutant Online for the Darkainians. An eternity ago, she was just another shy seventeen year old who spent too much time with computers.
Now she co-ordinated communications and kept much of the automated Darkainian war machine running. And now she was talking to him.
"Good afternoon, LD," said Rogziel's voice through his speakers.
"I read you, adjutant," Deathscythe replied.
"You have been selected first to land. Please cede control of your craft to the Control Tower in 5…. 4…"
"Ummm Rogziel I have one engine shot here," Deathscythe protested. Was she able to bring him down safely?
"Not a problem, 3… 2 … Command uplink successful. The control tower is now controlling by remote pilot," Rogziel intoned mechanically as one of the status lights in the cockpit came on.
Deathscythe breathed a sign of relief, and took his hand off the joystick. He saw his wingmates circling the Starport in a holding pattern while his wraith made a gentle descent to the landing platform of the Starport.
Deathscythe's plane touched down on the tarmac and he wearily opened his cockpit. He tiredly walked away from the
The circular tarmac was a mess. Technicians in SCV suits can be seen busily putting out fires in the main Starport building. There were bits and pieces of Hydralisks and Zerglings scattered all over. Sometimes he saw the odd helmet or dropped rifle and his heart sank a little.
A loud exclamation shook him out of his reverie
"YOINK!"
But the Zerg didn't care.
Six weeks after the newsnets were screaming about alien invasion and the Protoss razing of Mar Sara, the Swarm appeared over Darkainia.
The common people were unprepared. Used to being ignored, the idyllic agricultural world was ravaged by the unrelenting fury of the Swarm. Zerg appeared in all major population centers. First came the ominous crablike Guardians, bombarding humanity's cities with spore bombs. Later came the Hydralisks and Zerglings rushing through the streets, clawing at anything that dared move.
Unprepared for the inhuman savagery of the Swarm, most of Darkainia soon became covered in the purplish fungal mat the humans called Creep.
Most, but not all.
The liberation of Darkainia is about to begin.
STARCRAFT
Ad Liberation
The five siege tanks rolled through deserted city streets, stopping in the middle of a large plaza. As soon as it stopped, it emanated the loud hiss of pneumatics as stabilising rods unfolded from the tanks' bodies, burying themselves into the ground as the main cannons began to telescope out from the turrets.
In less than a minute the five Darkainian siege tanks were fully sieged.
"This is Lt. Jing. We are in position," said the blue-eyed, brown haired commander of the lead tank in the formation through the radio. The young Darkainian lieutenant was barely twenty, but he had already established a reputation during the Darkainian's resistance to the Zerg invasion. Eighty six notches were carved into his tank's gun barrel, that was back in the early days when the Darkainian forces bothered with kill counts. But the Zerg were so numerous, coming in endless waves that seemingly never ended, that even the "Manoeuvring Ace" no longer bothered keeping count.
"Roger that, Lt. The Marines are coming in," came the reply.
It was a bright Thursday afternoon, but the smoke and dust of battle obscured Jing's vision, forcing him to rely on his tank's infrared imaging systems. He saw several bright shapes advancing slowly towards him.
Jing smiled. The Darkainian Marines.
The Marines made their way sullenly to the safety of the tanks, their numbers thinned yet again in bitter house to house fighting as they uprooted every last Zergling, every snarling Hydralisk, from the city.
Ninety seven proud men from what was once two hundred men walked slowly, purposefully towards the relative safety of Lt. Jing's tanks. Before the Zerg invasion, these men were part-time soldiers at best, most of the preferring to indulge their free time in the planet's favourite pastime, writing and reading literature, rather than engage in combat. Now they no longer read about heroic battles against overwhelming odds: they lived them.
At the very rear of the Marines, a single Marine Captain limped slowly, painfully towards safety. He limped, grunting in pain every step of the way, the massive weight of his body and dark gray combat armour supported on the shoulders of a beautiful medic in white combat armour.
"Come on, Leo. Only two hundred meters to go before we reach the perimeter," the medic said, in her best calming tones. However, nothing can hide the faint trace of worry in her voice. For this particular marine was no ordinary grunt. Captain Leo Kozlov was her husband of five years.
"Think… it's time for a stimpack?" Leo asked, grinning wickedly at his wife, despite his pain. Three Zerglings had swarmed the captain, wickedly clawing at him with their horrible appendages, his standard issue marine armour first buckling, then tearing beneath the horrible onslaught as metal plates tore away and the Zergling claws hooked into the tender flesh underneath. Only quick action by a Firebat saved Leo from being another casualty of the Zerg.
"No more drugs, honey. You've already taken three stimpacks." Sarah said coolly even though it hurt her deeply to see her gentle husband like this.
"Not even for me, Valkyrie?" he asked, smiling ironically. Throughout the war, Sarah had earned the name, saving many men from painful deaths at the hands of the Zerg. They both knew the men practically kept shrines to her.
"God, not you too, Leo. It's embarrassing!" she protested as they came closer to the makeshift perimeter their fellow Marines set up around the plaza.
Leo smiled. "Yeah, Sarah, but you look so cute when you blush, every time the men call you that,"
"Oh, shush," Sarah said as they took the last steps towards relative safety, a small cheer erupting from the men as they stepped past the perimeter.
Jing clambered out of his siege tank, eagerly running towards Leo, even as Sarah laid him down on the ground, her fingers quickly working the pneumatic clasps of her husband's armour loose.
"Holy Shit, Captain. I thought we agreed no heroics this time," Jing said, smiling as Sarah brought out what the men called "instruments of torture", her field surgery kit.
Leo smiled as he flashed the finger at his Darkainian Army comrade.
"Hey Jing!" shouted out another Marine standing nearby.
Jing turned around to see Hiraishin walk in his direction. He widened his eyebrows in curiosity, wondering what the "sand rat" had to say.
"Hey bitch, you owe me another 100 credits. Took the Starport in half the estimated time," Hiraishin gloated as Jing scowled in displeasure at losing yet another bet. The damnable marines were almost making his tank boys look bad.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Army boy," Hiraishin said smiling as he pocketed the money in one of the ammo storage compartments of his combat armour as Jing made his way back to his tank to give Lord Deathscythe the good news.
"Bandit King Jing to Deathscythe. We've secured the Starport."
Chris Smith smiled, as his wing of twelve Wraiths made their way towards the newly liberated city. The ruler of Darkainia, a proud young man still in his twenties wasn't the best pilot, but the war meant that everyone who knew how to pilot a Wraith was needed in the cockpit, no matter what his social standing was. He really didn't mind. His Deathscythe wing had done substantial damage, bombing Zerg sunken colonies and shooting down Mutalisks while the grunts below cleared the ground.
Things were going well. The purple Creep wasn't so pervasive now. Granted, much of the planet was still overrun with Zerg, but the fortified areas where the Darkainians staged their counterattacks were growing stronger and the Creep had stopped advancing, in some places even retreating.
As far as the Lord Deathscythe, Ruler of Darkainia was concerned, the war was going well.
"This is Deathscythe. Looks like there's going to be another liberation party when we land, boys," he said, smiling as his wingmates broke into spontaneous cheers.
"Hey boss," said Zoro50, one of the Wraith pilots. "Something's coming up on radar,"
"Mutas?" Asked Soulfire, another member of the Deathscythe Wing.
"Does it matter?" Deathscythe replied over the radio. "Point us in the right direction, Zoro, and take them down,"
Sure enough as the pilots of the Deathscythe wing hit their thrusters the Zerg fliers came into view. A squadron, if the Zerg understood the concept, of thirty six angry-looking mutalisks, beating their wings as they made their way towards the newly liberated city.
The flyboys knew that Jing and Leo's men were in danger. If the Mutalisks did not encounter serious resistance, soon the Guardians will follow. And the Guardians will mercilessly spore bomb Jing's tanks.
"Engage cloaks!" Deathscythe ordered.
Immediately the twelve Wraiths seemed to shimmer in the bright afternoon sun, then faded away first to transparency, then invisibility as the cloak fields engaged.
"Break formation, flying pattern Alpha Three Iota!" Deatscythe commanded as the Wraiths broke formation and circled the unsuspecting Mutalisks.
Immediately chaos reigned as the Wraiths fired their missiles, the silvery fish of death discharging seemingly from nowhere. Deathscythe smiled with satisfaction as he personally finished off three Mutalisks, their hideous wormlike bodies splattering in mid air. He felt grim satisfaction as he began the slaughter of the confused Mutalisks.
But suddenly they didn't seem so confused anymore. They began spitting out the dreaded Glaive Wurms in the general direction of the Wraiths.
"Goddammit, he got me," Soulfire shouted out as Glaive Wurms tore a furrow in his tail fin. He took no chances and banked sharply left, trying to avoid two Mutalisks that were now doggedly chasing him even though he was still technically invisible.
"Everyone try to engage them one on one, and for God's sakes, don't group together!" Deathscythe shouted as he fired another missile at a Mutalisk, which missed by several feet. The mutalisk replied by spitting a series of Glaive Wurms at him, some of which grazed the aluminium wings of his Wraith.
"Dammit," Deathscythe muttered. There was only one way the Mutalisks could shoot at cloaked planes - if there was an Overlord nearby. These bloated, floating brain like sacs somehow could past the humans' cloaking fields, which made life difficult for the Deathscythe Wing time and time again.
"Where the fuck is that overlord?!" shouted Soulfire angrily as he desperately engaged in several high-G manoeuvres to shake off the pursuing Mutalisks.
"I see it on radar! 12 o'clock high!" shouted Zoro as a Glaive Wurm barely missed his plane.
"Launch every missile at it! Ignore all other targets!" ordered Deathscythe as he decloaked.
"LD! What the fuck are you doing? Re-cloak!" shouted Soulfire as every single Mutalisk broke off their individual targets and converged on LD.
"Get that overlord!" Deathscythe shouted as he flew his decloaked plane straight at the mass of Mutalisks, firing his lasers wildly.
"I see it!" Zoro said calmly.. "I have missile lock," he continued.
"FUCK! Hurry up!" Deathscythe said as he took a sharp dive, several Glaive Wurms hot on his exhaust trail.
"Launching!" Zoro said.
There was a muffled boom, followed by a thud. Deathscythe felt his Wraith shake as some of the Glaive Wurms hit an engine, causing it to automatically shut down. As his plane spiralled and he fought to regain control, Deathscythe activated the cloaking field.
The next five minutes were a blur to him as he concentrated on keeping his shaking plane level. By the time he wrestled the Wraith back to a viable speed and altitude, the battle was already over.
"Hey boss," said Epyon, another member of the Deathscythe Wing as he flew his plane alongside. He could see Epyon give the thumbs up.
Beneath the oxygen mask, Deathscythe smiled. It was close, and Ryoji wasn't going to be happy to see his damaged plane, but all twelve members of the Deathscythe wing survived to fight another day.
******
Twelve dark grey Wraiths made their final approach runs, targeting the large round landing zone of the city's newly liberated Starport.
"Attention Deathscythe Wing, this is the Control Tower," said a pleasant, if slightly monotonous female voice through the radio. "Proceed with automated landing programs, routine B."
An excited whoop went out from Ken Sohryu's plane.
"Rogzieeeeeel baby!" Ken shouted over the radio network, to the amusement of his wingmates. "Big daddy pump's a coming down for some hot robotic LOVING baby. You ready for some human style loving once I get back on solid ground?". Ken continued to tease Rogziel.
There was a brief, almost polite silence, as the Wraiths approached the Starport. Then Rogziel spoke again.
"I'm sorry, Ken, but I don't seem to have my physical body around to love you with," Rogziel answered smoothly.
Despite the effort of keeping his Wraith level with only one working engine, Deathscythe chuckled to himself when he heard the exchange. Rogziel was the Adjutant Online for the Darkainians. An eternity ago, she was just another shy seventeen year old who spent too much time with computers.
Now she co-ordinated communications and kept much of the automated Darkainian war machine running. And now she was talking to him.
"Good afternoon, LD," said Rogziel's voice through his speakers.
"I read you, adjutant," Deathscythe replied.
"You have been selected first to land. Please cede control of your craft to the Control Tower in 5…. 4…"
"Ummm Rogziel I have one engine shot here," Deathscythe protested. Was she able to bring him down safely?
"Not a problem, 3… 2 … Command uplink successful. The control tower is now controlling by remote pilot," Rogziel intoned mechanically as one of the status lights in the cockpit came on.
Deathscythe breathed a sign of relief, and took his hand off the joystick. He saw his wingmates circling the Starport in a holding pattern while his wraith made a gentle descent to the landing platform of the Starport.
Deathscythe's plane touched down on the tarmac and he wearily opened his cockpit. He tiredly walked away from the
The circular tarmac was a mess. Technicians in SCV suits can be seen busily putting out fires in the main Starport building. There were bits and pieces of Hydralisks and Zerglings scattered all over. Sometimes he saw the odd helmet or dropped rifle and his heart sank a little.
A loud exclamation shook him out of his reverie
"YOINK!"