SECTION 0 – A SHORT REVIEW OF TERRAN ARMED FORCES (author note: this is basically just to tell you that most soldiers aren't equipped with armored suits, and how many soldiers are in a starcraft unit. If you get bored, feel free to skip ahead to SECTION ONE. I would put this in a separate chapter, but this might count as "author's notes". This section is very long, however.)
Part One – InfantryThe most common and most important unit in the Confederate Forces is the infantry unit. It is the only unit truly capable of claiming and holding territory. There are four branches of infantry in the Confederate Armed Forces: The Colonial Infantry (Supports the outlying colonies and ensures order, also defends colonists from pirate/militia attacks. Has recently come under suspicion for harboring anti-Confederate sympathies), The Colonial Marines (engages in hit-and-run attacks against enemies threatening the outlying colonies), The Confederate Army (puts down major rebellions, guards Confederate space), and The Confederate Guard (guards the throne-world, Tarsonis). Every soldier in any of these branches is equipped with: a rifle (the current standard being the C-14 "Impaler" Gauss Rifle), a sidearm (a semi-automatic pistol of a caliber no less than .45), three hand grenades, communications gear, and a Battle Dress Uniform (BDU), which is comprised of an arachno-steel shirt and trousers bearing unit and rank insignia. Soldiers belonging to units that are posted in space will be assigned a pressurized combat suit (the current models in service are the CMC-300 and CMC-400 Powered Combat Suits), for combat in airless environments. In addition, members of ground units assigned in hostile locales (high/low temperature, high radioactivity, poisonous atmosphere) will be assigned combat suits.
Organizational Breakdown:
Squad – 12-16 soldiers (Squads are an unofficial subsection of a platoon. Not all platoons divide by squad)
Platoon - (approx. 60 riflemen)
Company – Four platoons (approx. 250 riflemen, equal to 1 unit in Starcraft)
Battalion – Six companies (approx. 2,000 personnel / 1,500 riflemen)
Regiment – Four battalions (approx. 10,000 personnel / 8,000 riflemen)
Squadron – Variable number of Regiments (approx. 500,000 personnel / 450,000 riflemen - Most common)Note: Lt. Cdr. Gregory Reikson's Omega Squadron has around 1,000,000 soldiers assigned to it, while Colonel Jackson Hauler's Nova Squadron contains just 5000 personnel. Also, squadrons and divisions often contain air and artillery units, rather than just infantry units.
Part Two – Mobile Artillery (colloquially known as 'Firebat' units)
Firebat soldiers are all equipped with the CMC-660 Heavy Combat Suit, which is equipped with a flame-thrower and an RPG launcher. The Firebat unit is very important during base assaults, because of the RPG's ability to punch through armored positions, and the devastating effect of the flame-thrower on enemy morale. Most battalions are assigned one company of mobile artillery (one firebat company contains 100 soldiers).
Part Three – Ranger Units
Each member of a ranger company is assigned the standard equipment of a Confederate Marine, in addition to one Vulture Hover Bike. The Ranger is highly trained and well-respected. Rangers perform the role of reconnaissance and guerrilla warfare. Rangers move in companies of fifty.
Part Four – Strike ArmorEach pilot of a strike armor unit is assigned a Goliath Armored Walker. These machines are versatile, powerful, and resilient. The strategic unit of the Strike Armor branch is the Goliath Squad. One squad contains twenty Goliaths, in addition to fifty support personnel.
Part Five – ArmorThe backbone of the armor unit is the Arclite Siege Tank. Tanks are essential in their role of supporting infantry, which they do by taking out armored positions, and acting as moving shields from enemy bullets in combat. The strategic unit of the armor unit is the Tank Squad. One squad contains ten tanks, each of which have a crew of five (one commander, one pilot, two gunners, one technician), and fifty support personnel.
Part Six – Army Aviators
The most important piece of machinery in the Army Aviation branch is the Dropship. The strategic unit of the Aviators is the squadron. One squadron can carry eight companies of infantry, four squads of strike armor, or two squads of armor. A squadron consists of 24 dropships and fighter support. A single dropship can carry a payload of 84 soldiers, 3 Goliaths and support crew, or one tank and support crew. Every squadron also contains 4-6 Wraiths to act as escort for the dropships, and air support for the dropship payload.
Part Seven – Fighter Corp
The newly formed Fighter Corp is already a highly decorated and important branch of the Confederate Armed Forces. Fighters play an important role in ground invasions, where they escort dropships and destroy armored ground targets before they can threaten ground troops. They are also vicious in space battles, destroying enemy gunships and battlecruisers with surgical strikes against engines and bridges. The strategic unit of the Fighter Corp is the squadron, which contains 12 fighters and a support crew of 36.
Part Eight – Navy
The Navy is an important part of the Confederate Forces, because it allows the expansion of the Confederacy by transporting colonists and guarding the merchant-marine, and because it can identify and destroy enemy threats from space. The most basic unit of the Navy is the Battle Group. The battle group contains one Behemoth-class Battlecruiser, and several smaller vessels (tankers, cruisers, destroyers, and gunboats).
Part Nine – Miscellaneous Units
There are several other branches in the Confederate Armed Forces. The most well-known is the Salvage and Construction Branch. Equipped with T-280 Space Construction Vehicles, they salvage space hulks (destroyed ships), build defenses for ground forces, and repair space vessels. The basic unit of the S/C Branch is the work crew, consisting of eight SCVs and support crew. Another branch is the Frontier Exploration Branch. Equipped with Explorer Science Vessels, this branch studies space anomalies and locates new worlds for colonies. One final branch is the Black Operations Branch. Not open to enlistees, it consists almost entirely of Ghosts, who work as one-man armies.
(author's note: Damn! Writing that section took forever. You damn well better have read the whole thing. It was a pain in the ass, having to refer to the manual every five seconds. On the other hand, military science is fascinating as hell. I turned the SCVs into Sea-Bees and Navy Divers. Rockin'.)
SECTION 1 – DEAD-END POST
Private Ivan Petrov woke up to the sound of reveille. He wiped sweat off his face and arms, cursing the Mar Sara heat. The sergeant barked at him to hurry up. Ivan stripped off his clothes and took a fast, cold shower. He checked himself out in the mirror. He was of average height and below-average weight (but he was muscular, in a wiry way), he had prominent Slavic features and spoke with a Russian accent.
Afterwards, he put on his Battle Dress Uniform, which consisted of a vest and pants, both made of spider-steel, with steel plates riveted to them. He grabbed his gear: ammunition, sidearm, grenades and com-gear, which was basically a hands-free cell phone and radio.
After he had tucked all of this into his vest or belt, he picked up his most important possession: his rifle. It used magnetic rails to fire ferrous rounds at many times the speed of sound. Quiet as a car door closing, could hit a mouse from two hundred meters, able to kill someone through a concrete wall.
"Petrov, get on the roof," drawled the sergeant, Nicolai Koslov.
"Yeah, Ivan, get on the roof!" Scott Langenbrunner looked gleeful at Ivan's suffering.
"Lang, go with him." Scott choked with dismay.
Ivan slung his rifle and climbed the roof access ladder. He winced at the light and heat of the morning sun.
"Damn, it's hot," Scott whined as he climbed onto the roof. The joined the squad's master sniper, Corporal Sergei Gionta, in gazing at the landscape. They were surrounded by a small town of squat metal buildings. Beyond the town, there was nothing but miles of bleak wastelands. "What a surprise, it's no different from yesterday!" Langenbrunner started to bitch about the reasons he joined the Colonial Infantry, and why this post sucked, when the sniper cut him off.
"Shut up," said the sniper, "And look at this." He pointed to a spot in the badlands and looked at Ivan expectantly. "You see that?"
Ivan looked through a pair of binoculars, but didn't see anything.
"Huh. It's gone. Thought I saw some weird… thing, but its gone."
"It was never there, my friend. You've been out here too long. Go inside, get some water." Ivan handed the sniper his pack and Sergei went down the ladder. The privates leaned against the retaining walls of the roof, squinting at the desert, chatting.
"So… have you heard the rumors?" Scott asked with a conspiratorial grin.
"No. What rumors?"
"Well, they say there are monsters in the desert. Big 'uns."
"And who is 'they', some FNG who saw his first sandspider?"
"Nah, a comm.-tech told me. Said a long range patrol went missing. Around four or five trucks, a whole company, just… gone. No trace until last week, when a jeep careened into this guy's base. Crashed into the barracks, punched right through the wall. The engine was blown, but he still had his foot jammed down on the accelerator. He started screaming about monsters in the desert, called 'em Zorg or Zarg, something like that. Screamin' about how they killed his entire squad. Bastard was so crazy they shot him to put him out of everyone's misery."
"So, do you believe it?"
"About the monsters? Hell no. He probably just got heat stroke, was delirious. His unit probably broke down and died of dehydration. It happens."
They subsided into silence, watching the desert for any anomalies. The unit radio crackled to life.
"Desert Company 46, do you read? Hello?"
Ivan yelled down the hatch "Sergeant! Sarge! Someone's on the radio!" He heard Koslov growl and clamber up the ladder. A second later, he pushed himself through the hatch and snatched the radio.
"Delta-Charlie-4-6 reads you."
"We have orders from Confed High Command."
"What do they want?"
"You are to load up your civilian population and send them to Wasteland Base Echo."
"What?"
"They didn't give an explanation, but it's probably about the Protoss attack."
"Dammit. How are we supposed to convince these people to leave?"
"That's your job, not mine."
"Thanks." The sergeant put down the receiver and looked at his soldiers. "Any suggestions?"
"We could sound an air raid. Organize it from the shelters. Anyone who doesn't feel like leaving, fuck 'em. We just take their supplies and let them die in the desert," said Petrov.
"I feel ideologically opposed to this." Scott commented.
"No one gives a damn, do it. And inform Captain Akita of the situation." Sergeant Koslov jumped back down the ladder and began ordering the squad.
SECTION 2- AFTER THE EVACUATION/CONVOY
Some hours later, Ivan, Koslov, Scott, and the rest of the squad were sitting in the back of an APC. Behind them was a long line of personnel transports. It had taken several hours because of the independent nature of the colonists. Several fights had broken out, and a couple of Ivan's squad-mates, Private Ivan Malakhov and Corporal Mike Tanner were nursing busted lips and black eyes.
Out of a population of nearly five thousand settlers, they'd been forced to leave over two hundred behind.
Petrov looked over his squad. They had several greens: Privates Roadkill Rommel, Mikhaillovich Molotov, Jethro Lincoln, and Zachary Taylor. There were also veterans Sgt. Nicolai Koslov, Corporals Mike Tanner and Sergei Gionta, and Privates (First Class) Scott Langenbrunner, and Ivans Malakhov and Petrov. Malakhov had been entrusted with the Squad Automatic Weapon. Everyone else was a rifleman.
"How much longer to the base?" Petrov called up to the driver.
"Not long! We just have to get past this rock formation and-" The entire APC shook. Ivan felt the shock, right in his tailbone.
"Damn! What the hell was that?" a soldier shouted.
"I don't know! Something big, though!" the driver shouted back. "Someone should check it out!"
"Rommel, Tanner, check it out." Koslov ordered.
"Yes, sergeant." The two soldiers ducked out the APC hatch.
"Holy hell! You ran over something big!" the private shouted in.
"Yeah. Looks a lot like a bug. Crunchy on the outside, chewy within. Doesn't look like a sandspider or scorpion," reported Tanner. He and Roadkill ducked into the hatch. "There isn't much to look at though. The APC chewed it up pretty good."
"Alright. Strap in. All clear, driver!"
"Understood!" The APC hummed into motion. "We're past the rocks, we just have a few kilometers to go."
"Roger."
SECTION 3- WASTELAND BASE ECHO/MOBILISATION
Several uneventful hours later, the convoy arrived at Wasteland Base Echo. It had previously been a forlorn cluster of buildings: an outdated and underpowered command center that served as a headquarters, an armory, and a barracks. Now, it had exploded in size. There were temporary settlements everywhere within five kilometers of the headquarters, and people were milling about everywhere. The APC pulled to a stop at a checkpoint, which was basically a sandbag wall next to the road. A squad of soldiers and a field radio were behind the wall.
A soldier walked up to the driver window. The others covered the APC with rocket launchers and recoilless rifles.
"Identification?"
"Desert Company 46. Colonists from Settlement 46."
"Wait here." The soldier walked away and gave the word to his CO. The officer started talking on the field radio. A second later, he motioned to the soldiers to wave the convoy through.
"Why is security so tight?" Ivan asked Koslov.
"How the hell should I know?" Koslov replied. "By the way, security is not tight. You should try going to Tarsonis."
"Damn! Looks like everybody within 500 kilometers was sent here!" Jethro exclaimed.
"They probably were, Jet." Malakhov said.
"Driver! Do we have orders?" Koslov yelled.
"Yeah! You gotta report to the Company 46 barracks! Captain Akita will brief you there!"
"Hurry it up!"
When they arrived at the barracks, Akita wasn't there yet, so the soldiers, lacking orders, collapsed on the bunks nearest to them. Fifteen minutes later, Akita walked in and waited at attention.
"Attention!" barked Lieutenant Hacker, the platoon leader. There was a lot of commotion as the soldiers jumped of the bunks, snapped to attention, and saluted.
Akita returned the salute. "At ease. Confederate High Command ordered a planet-wide evacuation this morning, in light of the events at Chau Sara. Our job is to ensure the safety of the civilian population. Failing that, we're to hightail it back to friendly space."
"Sir?" a private spoke up.
"Yes, Private Duncan?"
"What do you mean by 'failing that'? I mean, if the Protoss attack, we're all dead, right?"
Akita considered that for a moment. "That's true, son. But, word has it, there is a second alien invader. People have been calling them the Zerg." In a civilian crowd, there would have been a lot of commotion. But everyone here was a professional. They waited for the Captain to continue. "The rumors are true, there are monsters in the desert. However, these are monsters we can fight. So, we will fight them. Understood?" The company assented. "Good. Get some rest, soldiers, we have work to do, tomorrow."
"Lights out in fifteen, soldiers!" Everyone rushed to use the head or take care of personal hygiene.
SECTION 4- THE NEXT DAY
Ivan woke up to the sound of reveille. He wiped sweat off his face and arms, cursing the Mar Sara heat. The sergeant barked at him to hurry up. Ivan stripped off his clothes and took a fast, cold shower. He checked himself out in the mirror. He realised he was growing a beard. Everyone else was taking there time this morning, so he figured there was time to shave. He and Scott used the same mirror and shaving cream.
"So, rumor-monger, what do you have for me today?" Ivan asked, taking his time.
"Anything you desire, my good friend." Scott replied. He was obviously in high spirits.
"Perhaps you could tell me why we are waiting here?"
"Ah… I heard that we are waiting for ten infantry companies to gather here, to properly protect our pitiable passengers."
"That was a good one. And after we get these companies?"
"We travel four thousand clicks to the Mar Sara starport."
"Impressive. And when do we go?"
"Soon. We already have nine companies. The other is on its way."
A soldier in the main barracks yelled "Attention!" Ivan and Scott rushed to finish shaving, cutting themselves, and rushed to stand at attention in the main room. Completely forgetting to dress. The rest of the company struggled to keep straight faces, many of them failing miserably (Ivan and Scott were comforted by the fact that those privates would later catch hell from their sergeants).
Akita himself looked amused. "Well, anything to say for yourselves, privates?"
"A Ghost took our uniforms, sir!" Ivan said.
"Those bastards are sneaky! Sir!" Scott added, going along with him.
"But… uh, we have spares! In the other room!"
"Well, I suggest you get them on."
A minute later, the two were once again standing at attention, this time with clothes.
"Our unit is being mobilized. Desert Company 43 has bogged down on the road here. We're going to escort some trucks of supplies and mechanics to get them moving again. Understood? Good. Arm up and get to the garages."
SECTION 5- ACTION
"This has got to be the most boring planet ever." Commented Private Roadkill, looking out the APC window. "I mean, even the freaking alien invasion is boring."
"What kind of assignment is this, anyways?" Private Jet said. "Our unit slogan should be 'Killing is our business, and we're in a recession.'" The greens cracked up. The veterans smiled, amused only by their naivete.
"Can it, soldiers," barked Sergeant Nicolai. "We're getting something on the radio."
"This is Platoon Alpha static under attack static need support static, transmission ends"
"Driver, step on it! Squad, check your weapons, and get ready."
As the APC accelerated, the squad checked their weapons and chambered rounds.
"Hey, Roadkill!" Ivan shouted.
"Yeah?" Roadkill said, a little uncertain.
"You're about to learn why boring is good!"
"Contact!" The driver yelled. The APC bucked. "Scheisse, the transmission's shot! You gotta go on foot! Ready, Koslov?"
"Ready! Open the hatch!"
The hatch dropped and fell on a monster, trapping it. The squad rushed out, killing the thing with their weight. Ivan started at the blood for a moment, then glanced up. His mouth went dry.
A trio of the monsters rushed towards the squad, foaming out the mouth. Ivan fired a burst, and the head of the lead monster exploded, spraying blood and innards. The other two were unfazed.
"Kill them!" shouted Koslov. Concentrated fire brought the other two down.
"Damn it, these things are everywhere!" At least a dozen more of the monsters were rushing them.
"Squad, fire at will!" The terrain was largely flat, except for a tall hill. Koslov decided the hill would be very defensible and yelled "Up the hill, soldiers! Hurry it up!"
Fireteam Alpha (Malakhov, Tanner, Taylor, and Roadkill) laid down suppressing fire as the others humped up the hill. Ivan sweated as he maneuvered, and he could almost feel one of those blades sticking into his leg, and dragging him down to a waiting, ravenous mouth. Ivan reached the top of the hill and had to lie on his back, squeeze his eyes shut and shiver for a few moments.
"Fireteam Alpha, get moving. Cover them!" Ivan rolled onto his stomach and looked through the iron sights of his rifle. Fireteam Alpha was sprinting up the hill, half-dragging each other. The monsters were right behind them, a huge wave of them. Ivan switched to semi-automatic, and started firing. His shots lanced down the hill and penetrated the heads of many of the monsters, but there was always more. Someone threw a grenade, and Ivan opened his mouth and dug his face into the dirt, but the shock still jarred him. He looked up and a hole had formed in the enemy wave. He saw Fireteam Alpha scrabbling to reach the top of the hill, and helped them up.
After the squad made it to the (relatively) safe position on the hill, Ivan looked at the APC, and felt his stomach drop. "Sergeant! We forgot about the driver!"
"Scheisse! Driver," Koslov shouted over the radio. "can you hear me?"
"Yes, sir! I'm still trying to get this thing running again!"
"Never mind that! Get up the hill!"
The driver laughed. "Not on these legs, Sarge."
"Then close the hatch! Hurry it up!" He punctuated this by killing a Zerg that was rushing towards the open hatch.
"Good point." The hatch closed. Still more of the monsters attacked the APC, hammering into its sides. "It's getting pretty intense in here."
Mike Tanner, who was covering the other side of the hill, looked over while changing out the barrel of Malakhov's machinegun. "What's going on?"
"Driver's in trouble."
The monsters finally figured out that the APC window was weak. They hammered into several times before crashing through. Koslov whispered "Damn," as he fired on the Zerg.
Ivan heard and saw the flashes of several gunshots as the monsters rushed in through the broken window. Then the sound of the driver screaming came over the radio.
"Ivan, drop a grenade in there."
Ivan pulled the trigger on his grenade launcher, and a grenade sailed in through the window. The grenade hit the fuel tank and made the whole APC go up in a huge explosion. Bits of metal and Zerg flew everywhere. One of his squadmates screamed: Mikhaillovich had a three-foot long claw sticking through his leg.
"Let's kill these bastards!"
SECTION 6- AFTERMATH
The squad sat or crouched next to the flaming wreckage of the APC. Mikhaillovich's leg was bandaged. Around them, there were huge pile of dead Zerglings, as the unit had taken to calling them. Koslov was on the radio.
"Alright, sir. Thanks." Koslov switched off the radio. "Well, almost all of Alpha Platoon was lost. Four survivors. Beta Platoon lost two squads completely, twenty-six casualties. Gamma Platoon was relatively unscathed, three casualties. As for us, Squad One was obliterated, Squad Two lost four soldiers, Squad Four lost seven soldiers, and we lost no one but our driver. In total, out of a company of two hundred, we lost half our soldiers. Also, Company 43 was nearly totally destroyed, with six survivors, who holed up in an APC and waited it out. Enemy losses are estimated to be in the thousands."
He waited.
"We have new orders. Our company is going to Wasteland Base Bravo, which recently put out a distress call. An APC is on its way. We're going to link up with Desert Companies 48 and 49, and with a Ranger Company under the command of one James Raynor. He's something of a legend in these parts, apparently." There was a long silence.
"Hey!" shouted Scott. "Hey, Roadkill!"
"Yeah?"
"Killing is our business, and the market's lookin' good!"
Roadkill smiled weakly, then staggered up. He got to the edge of their makeshift camp, before dropping to his knees and heaving. The other soldiers wrinkled their noses at the sound of Roadkill's vomit, before going over to make sure he was alright.
"I'm alright, sorry about that…" He still looked awful. Ivan ruffled the young private's hair and stared at the broken landscape and the burning piles of dead. He had the feeling that he would see many more of them. He caught sight of an APC.
"Sergeant, our ride is here."
The squad helped up Mikhaillovich and Roadkill, and got underway to the next battlefield.
END OF THE FIRST CHAPTER.
So… tell me what I did wrong, and tell me what you liked. How did you enjoy the first skirmish of the First Great War? (What is the war between the Terrans and Zerg called in the original Starcraft, anyways?) Peace.
p.s., this is what part of the alphabet would look like if q and r were taken out. (Mitch Hedberg was awesome)