Starcraft: Promotion

The two fleets hung like clouds of mosquitoes over the Earth. Poised, waiting to strike and swarm either each other or the planet itself. From a distance you couldn't tell the difference between them. Both had the same T-shaped Capital battleships, globed science vessels, hawk like Valkrie missile frigates, and fast moving wing swept Wraith fighters. Both had approximately 250,000 sailors, officers, pilots, and doctors. Men and women from the same countries, same towns no less. The only difference was one fleet happened to be painted blue and gray.

Those were more than colors, it stood for the UED: United Earth Directorate. Opposed to the UED was the Eastern Contingent, their ships painted black and gray. Nothing transpired in the no-mans space between them except for asteroids skipping off the atmosphere.

The storm had hit just moments earlier. Chunks of rocks the size of cars came hurtling in from deep space. Arrayed near the front line stood two ships: the Tripoli and the Churchill. They had just recently switched positions, the Churchill relieving the Tripoli of her sentry position. Until, that is, the Churchill exploded.

Missiles and laser fire rock the Tripoli. Chaos erupts as the enemy ships attack from behind the asteroids. The RED fleet is caught totally unawares. The Tripoli bucks hard to the left as her 1 and 2 engines are blown out. Fires ignite all over the decks. The Ship is venting atmosphere and bodies into space. The bridge is hit by a missile – then the Tripoli falls out of formation towards the planet.

The bridge is a mass of twisted metal and cables. The sharp smell of ozone crackles through he charged atmosphere. Shouts and screams can be heard over the fires and the noise. Frantically, the sailors start to call out reports.

"The Captain is dead!"

"Helm is not responding"

"Were listing to one side!"

"Dropping out of formation!"

"Commander Fawkes to the bridge!"

Amidships is a twisted maze of destruction. Bodies lay scattered about as fires rage. Piping along the wall erupts in steam, fire, and shrapnel. A damage control team battles a blaze impotently. One of the men gets badly burned and crumples in a heap. A lone figure grabs him and pulls him away from the fire. The man is wearing a damage control suit, similar to a firefighters with helmet and breathing apparatus. He struggles violently pulling the injured crewman towards safety in an alcove along the wall. A sailor comes running up.

"Commander they need you on the bridge!"

Commander Gregg Fawkes rips off the breathing mask and puts it to the injured mans face. Fawkes then pulls out a bandage from a medical pouch, seemingly oblivious to the panicked sailor standing behind him.

"Commander!!"

"Hang on," Fawkes looks down the corridor, "MEDIC! This mans injured badly!!"

A white suited medic runs up the corridor. Behind helmet and visor a female voice says, "What's the situation sir?"

"Commander!" the sailor ties again.

"Medic: Second degree burns to his arm and face! Severe smoke inhalation. Get him a -"

"Commander, Please!"

At this Fawkes jumps up and grabs the crewman by his uniform collar. "Goddamn it crewman! I'm right –"

"Sir, the Captains dead!!"

Fawkes and the medic stop and stare at the crewman. Fear and panic seep through the crewman's eyes. The ship lurches to one side and shudders.

Fawkes walks over to a communications panel and punches in controls for the bridge p.a. system, "This is Fawkes, I'm on my way."

The Bridge swept forward in a crescent shaped form. Arrayed alongside it were computer stations and wall screens that monitored every function the massive ship was capable of. In the center was a tower arrayed from floor to ceiling with screens and keyboards. The bridge is surrounded by a huge glass bay window from which you can see almost every direction. At least, this is what the bridge usually looks like. A far different scene was playing out for Fawkes when the turbo lift doors opened. The battle outside raged through the windows around them and the earth coming up quickly. Fires, screams, and blood are what he sees, that and the Earth rushing towards him.

"EVERYONE HANG ON!"

The ship spins into the rushing planet throwing debris and people all over the battered command center. Fawkes climbs over to the helm. Off to one side is the Captain's broken body lays crumpled being held by a young Lieutenant.

"Sir, everything's out! The Captains dead! I –"

"I know, son," Fawkes looks over at a scared sailor managing the ships communications console. "Patch me into the ships comms," The crewman pushes some buttons. "Attention crew. This is Commander Fawkes I am assuming command of the ship. Brace for impact."

The helmsman clutches the battered station, "Sir we're going down! I can't control the ship!"

Fawkes – "Reverse engines. Use our forward thrusters to slow our descent."

The helmsman nods then pushes some buttons. The ship starts to stabilize but continues to head for the planet.

"Its not enough Sir, we're caught in the Earths gravimetric pull."

"What's the status of the main engines?"

"Engines 1 and 2 are gone completely. 3 is badly damaged from a missile and 4 is down to 63 % thrust"

Fawkes thinks for moment, "We have enough thrust capacity to steer inside the atmosphere. Don't make any drastic helm changes, just guide us in."

The ship hits the atmosphere and starts to flare up. Fires rage outside the windows as the massive ship enters the atmosphere. The bridge shudders upon impact.

"Sir," the helmsman shouts, "we're hitting the atmosphere at too strong of an angle!"

"She'll hold, it's a one way trip Sailor." Fawkes hits the comm. buttons again "Col. Smith contact the bridge."

Fawkes turns back to the helmsman. "Once we're through the atmosphere use engine 4 and what's left of 3 to level us out or we'll drop like a rock."

"But Sir! We wont be able to get back into orbit with that small of an amount of power."

The ship breaks through the fiery atmosphere. And skims through the clouds. The people on the bridge dust themselves off, many are wounded and crawl to safety. A voice in the background shouts out "Damage reports from all over Sir, everything's shot!"

Fawkes walks over to what's left of the navigation station. Lieutenant Peters is clutching badly broken arm. Seeing Fawkes he stands up and dusts off his uniform. Fawkes, "How are you Mike?"

"I'm ok Sir, I just took a stim pack."

"I'm glad. I'm making you XO of the ship, are you up to it?"

"Yes Sir!"

"Good. Based on our current trajectory where are we going to land?"

Peters looks at the map system and taps some buttons, "The Pacific Ocean, Sir, off the coast of Spain"

Fawkes, "That wont do."

The bridge door opens as Marine Colonel walks on. In a dress uniform that is badly burned, yet the Colonel walks on with a military bearing. He spots Fawkes and walks over to him oblivious to the damage around him.

"Sir"

Fawkes – "Colonel, what's the status of your Marines."

Smith speaks with decisiveness and brevity "117 out of 192 ready for combat. I've got them assisting damage control teams"

Fawkes, "Gear them up for combat, I plan on taking us into battle."

The Helmsman looks up "Sir?"

Fawkes goes over to the command tower as crewman walk over: "listen up everyone: General Montecito is launching his offensive today in eastern Ghana in Africa. It's a big push, they're committing all ground forces. I suspect that's why the Eastern Contingent launched an attack in orbit, to counter our ground assault." On the display a tactical readout showed a map of Africa and all ground divisions. Opposing them the Eastern Contingent was arrayed in defensive formations along the front.

Fawkes looks toward Peters, "Lt. using all thrust remaining can we push to Africa?"

Peters pushes some controls, "Uh, hold on sir. Yes! If we jettison the dead engines and all expendable ordinance we can make it…but why?"

Fawkes, "I'm going to crash land us in the enemy's front lines."

"Sir! That is -!"

"Smith – get your men ready."

Smith "Yes Sir." Salutes and walks away.

Fawkes looks at Peters, "I know Lt, trust me. We're not capable for combat anymore, in space at least. And we surely can't fly. Might as well aid the cause in some way. We're going to crash - might as well take some of them with us. A little payback for our dead crewman. Based on how fast were dropping how long till we hit?"

"11 minutes."

"Good, patch me through to the crew again." The helmsman hits some buttons "Attention, this is the Captain speaking." Everyone on the bridge now turns and looks. "I know you're all fighting for your lives right now and I have to say: I've never served with a finer crew. The fact that this ship still is in one piece is a testament to your training and dedication. It's not over yet. I plan on paying back those Eastern sons of bitches for killing Captain Kreys and our friends. We're going to crash land on the enemy's front lines and blow a hole open for our brothers in the Army. And I want every person in this ship not tending to the wounded to fight. Dorsal gun crews will remain with their turrets to fight from there, everyone else report to your deck Marine Gunnery Sergeant for a weapon. See you on the ground. Captain Fawkes, out."

A cheer went up around the bridge. Below decks dejected crewman suddenly came alive and raced to grab pulse rifles and grenades. Marine Sergeants at the weapons lockers stood in full battle armor. Shouting orders they quickly formed patchwork squads and gave everybody rudimentary orders to stick together.

Fawkes hit some comm buttons and raised Col. Smith. "Smith, once we're on the ground you'll take command. What's the most effective way to fight given our condition?"

Smith's voice crackled over the comm.. "Sir, we'll explode from this ship like a shotgun blast and kill everything we see. What enemy is around will be disoriented from our crash. We'll secure a 100-yard semicircle perimeter around the part of the ship facing the enemy. Id say it will take 15-20 minutes before the enemy can form a response. In that time I'll have gun crews set up machine gun nests and well use debris to make a defensive wall. I'll staff the lines with sailors. If we can get the tank loose from bay 12 we'll use it and my Marines to push an offensive into the enemy lines further."

Fawkes – "Good. I'll relay that to Army High Command. Good fighting Colonel."

"Oorah. Smith out."

Fawkes turned to Peters again, "Lt. get me High Command, they're not going to believe this."