Omicron 7:
Chapter 1: Lost Rights
Six longs months of scrounging around the garbage. Six long months of sleeping in dark corner. Six long months of running and hiding not knowing when your last day will come. What do you think that would do to a person mentally and physically? For Bret Copeland it has been a nightmare that he wishes he can awaken from. But everyday his life seems to run in the same direction. It wasn't always this way though. He could remember when he was back home. The nice cool mountain air by his house. The large lake that semi surrounded his cottage, where he would go for a quick dip here and there to escape the summer heat.
In his dreams he could see his beautiful wife wearing her white satin dress that she loved so much. He could picture her turning around as he called her, her long brown hair flowing around her shoulders. And her smile was so beautiful a man would lay his life on the line to rescue her. This woman was so beautiful just by looking at her you would have no choice but to believe that God existed and he truly modeled her from a special clay. But she chose to be with Bret. He saw himself as the luckiest man on earth, until the unlucky day that it was time to go to battle against the forgotten enemy.
He could still see her tears and hear her voice pleading him not to go. But there was nothing he could do about it, as an enlisted UED special reserve, he had to go.
The next thing Bret heard was the rude awakening of a scream in the night jarring him form his long needed slumber.
Thinking in his head "They must have found another one."
This went on for what seemed like forever. When would it end? How would it end? Would it be quick an painless like Samuel who made the mistake of letting his stomach take over his brain and in the search for food he was decapitated by one of them. Or would it be slow and excruciating like Victor who was caught in a pincer strike while trying to make it to an escape pod. Bret could still hear his screams echo through the hull of the ship as the beasts tore him apart limb by limb starting with his feet and saving his head so that he could see everything.
The few that did remain scuttled about the ship like scared rats. Kept out of the way and well hidden. I really don't think many knew about one another. However, inevitably the day would have to come when they would reach Char and the painful end by the Zerg.
Bret could still remember the day that their command center was infested. He was on a recon mission with his partner Jim Rounds to check out the perimeter. You see they had just arrived at a planet in Quadrant six that was thought to be uninhabited. To their surprise two months prior to their landing the Zerg arrived and put a strong foot hold in the planet. By the time they got there the entire planet that was known as Praxton 3 was fully infested by the Zerg.
The third evening that Bret and Jim had bed down for the night in the command center was just like any other, plain, hot and dark, when the alarm sounded. It seemed that the Zerg planned a sneak attack in the middle of the night. Oh the sound of gun shots still ringed in his head as he heard men and women scream in agony and pain.
"Fall back!" said the commander. Right before his torso was slit in half by an Ultralisk.
The crew tried to make a run for it by lifting off the planet but it was too late the Zerg Queen had made her way to the bridge and began to spread her ooze all over the ship. As the ship was slowly covered with red and green slime it began to short circuit and fizzle. The walls turned sticky as a sent of green spores began to travel through the air of the ship.
Bret twitched in his sleep as he saw the faces of the men and women when the spores entered their nostrils. The sounds of choking and screaming as the men and women fell to the ground convulsing until they became horribly disfigured, almost looking like zombies, then the tendrils emerged from all over. The, now, mindless creatures only mission was to destroy anything that was non-Zerg by exploding in a blast of blood and intestines.
At first the blood curdling screams erupted every night but after the ship lifted off to head for Char the cries in the night slowed down to only a few a nights. Then it eased to one every other day from those who could not handle the pressure.
Bret knew there were others still alive. He saw a few from time to time feeding on garbage and dead Zerg. But they vanished in an instance after eating. Some people had even turned to cannibalism to stop themselves from starving, but survival was the only goal in all their agendas. They all hung on to a hope that one-day they would be saved.
The first of, what would have probably been, July their prayers were answered. It was early in the morning when a refugee ran past Bret's hiding spot screaming. Right behind him was a Hydralisk coming at high speed. Bret turned to brace himself for the horrible scream of death that was soon to follow. But he heard nothing.
A few minutes later he heard a sound that he had never heard before. Curiously he squirmed and wiggled his way to find out what happened. Slowly he wiggled and carefully he moved into, what used to be the mess hall area. The next thing he saw brought joy and happiness to his heart.
The man had killed the Hydralisk without any weapons and was standing over it passing meat out to a group of refugees. Bret had never seen so many people in one space since the slaughter started. He decided to hide back though. He did not know what to expect from these people. It would be best to stay in the shadows and watch.
He heard the name Desmond Wright thrown around like it was Jesus Christ himself coming to save us from damnation. With a silent hand this great Hydralisk slayer motioned for everyone to move out. Bret was overwhelmed by this and with a new relief made his decision to find out about this new leader.
Bret followed them very silently throughout the ship. Down the shoots and underneath the pipes he slid trying to keep up. The truth of not having sufficient nourishment slowed him down greatly. He slid and crawled until he reached the dark dank bottom hull of the command center. He pushed and crawled until he could not see anything.
There was a familiar smell of rotting flesh in the air. His new found determination made him press on to find this man. Where this drive came from only god would know but it was there and it had to be appeased. He crawled on and on until he came to a grate in the floor of the deck above him. Peering through he could hear the wonderful sound of human laughter.
He decided to follow the same plan as before and just listen. The sounds he heard were not of scared men. No scared men would be cowering in corners worrying about their next meal. These men were strategically plotting something . . . something big.
Bret could not hear the conversation but he saw the man that he has been crawling through the canals and pipes to find. Bret was so inspired by this site that he did not see the zergling slowly approaching his scratched feet.
Chapter 1: Lost Rights
Six longs months of scrounging around the garbage. Six long months of sleeping in dark corner. Six long months of running and hiding not knowing when your last day will come. What do you think that would do to a person mentally and physically? For Bret Copeland it has been a nightmare that he wishes he can awaken from. But everyday his life seems to run in the same direction. It wasn't always this way though. He could remember when he was back home. The nice cool mountain air by his house. The large lake that semi surrounded his cottage, where he would go for a quick dip here and there to escape the summer heat.
In his dreams he could see his beautiful wife wearing her white satin dress that she loved so much. He could picture her turning around as he called her, her long brown hair flowing around her shoulders. And her smile was so beautiful a man would lay his life on the line to rescue her. This woman was so beautiful just by looking at her you would have no choice but to believe that God existed and he truly modeled her from a special clay. But she chose to be with Bret. He saw himself as the luckiest man on earth, until the unlucky day that it was time to go to battle against the forgotten enemy.
He could still see her tears and hear her voice pleading him not to go. But there was nothing he could do about it, as an enlisted UED special reserve, he had to go.
The next thing Bret heard was the rude awakening of a scream in the night jarring him form his long needed slumber.
Thinking in his head "They must have found another one."
This went on for what seemed like forever. When would it end? How would it end? Would it be quick an painless like Samuel who made the mistake of letting his stomach take over his brain and in the search for food he was decapitated by one of them. Or would it be slow and excruciating like Victor who was caught in a pincer strike while trying to make it to an escape pod. Bret could still hear his screams echo through the hull of the ship as the beasts tore him apart limb by limb starting with his feet and saving his head so that he could see everything.
The few that did remain scuttled about the ship like scared rats. Kept out of the way and well hidden. I really don't think many knew about one another. However, inevitably the day would have to come when they would reach Char and the painful end by the Zerg.
Bret could still remember the day that their command center was infested. He was on a recon mission with his partner Jim Rounds to check out the perimeter. You see they had just arrived at a planet in Quadrant six that was thought to be uninhabited. To their surprise two months prior to their landing the Zerg arrived and put a strong foot hold in the planet. By the time they got there the entire planet that was known as Praxton 3 was fully infested by the Zerg.
The third evening that Bret and Jim had bed down for the night in the command center was just like any other, plain, hot and dark, when the alarm sounded. It seemed that the Zerg planned a sneak attack in the middle of the night. Oh the sound of gun shots still ringed in his head as he heard men and women scream in agony and pain.
"Fall back!" said the commander. Right before his torso was slit in half by an Ultralisk.
The crew tried to make a run for it by lifting off the planet but it was too late the Zerg Queen had made her way to the bridge and began to spread her ooze all over the ship. As the ship was slowly covered with red and green slime it began to short circuit and fizzle. The walls turned sticky as a sent of green spores began to travel through the air of the ship.
Bret twitched in his sleep as he saw the faces of the men and women when the spores entered their nostrils. The sounds of choking and screaming as the men and women fell to the ground convulsing until they became horribly disfigured, almost looking like zombies, then the tendrils emerged from all over. The, now, mindless creatures only mission was to destroy anything that was non-Zerg by exploding in a blast of blood and intestines.
At first the blood curdling screams erupted every night but after the ship lifted off to head for Char the cries in the night slowed down to only a few a nights. Then it eased to one every other day from those who could not handle the pressure.
Bret knew there were others still alive. He saw a few from time to time feeding on garbage and dead Zerg. But they vanished in an instance after eating. Some people had even turned to cannibalism to stop themselves from starving, but survival was the only goal in all their agendas. They all hung on to a hope that one-day they would be saved.
The first of, what would have probably been, July their prayers were answered. It was early in the morning when a refugee ran past Bret's hiding spot screaming. Right behind him was a Hydralisk coming at high speed. Bret turned to brace himself for the horrible scream of death that was soon to follow. But he heard nothing.
A few minutes later he heard a sound that he had never heard before. Curiously he squirmed and wiggled his way to find out what happened. Slowly he wiggled and carefully he moved into, what used to be the mess hall area. The next thing he saw brought joy and happiness to his heart.
The man had killed the Hydralisk without any weapons and was standing over it passing meat out to a group of refugees. Bret had never seen so many people in one space since the slaughter started. He decided to hide back though. He did not know what to expect from these people. It would be best to stay in the shadows and watch.
He heard the name Desmond Wright thrown around like it was Jesus Christ himself coming to save us from damnation. With a silent hand this great Hydralisk slayer motioned for everyone to move out. Bret was overwhelmed by this and with a new relief made his decision to find out about this new leader.
Bret followed them very silently throughout the ship. Down the shoots and underneath the pipes he slid trying to keep up. The truth of not having sufficient nourishment slowed him down greatly. He slid and crawled until he reached the dark dank bottom hull of the command center. He pushed and crawled until he could not see anything.
There was a familiar smell of rotting flesh in the air. His new found determination made him press on to find this man. Where this drive came from only god would know but it was there and it had to be appeased. He crawled on and on until he came to a grate in the floor of the deck above him. Peering through he could hear the wonderful sound of human laughter.
He decided to follow the same plan as before and just listen. The sounds he heard were not of scared men. No scared men would be cowering in corners worrying about their next meal. These men were strategically plotting something . . . something big.
Bret could not hear the conversation but he saw the man that he has been crawling through the canals and pipes to find. Bret was so inspired by this site that he did not see the zergling slowly approaching his scratched feet.