0535hrs, Terran controlled space, unspecified planetary system
Corporal John Hide squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, the restraining bar and belts pinning him against the hard surface. It was getting unbearably hot in the drop ship as it descended through the planet's atmosphere, but John knew the heat would past in an instance. He had dropped into combat hundreds of times but still found it impossible to get used to.
"ETA 2 minutes, prepare to dismount" blared the ship's pilot through the intercom.
John looked around at his squad mates. Some fiddled with their rifles, others just sat motionlessly. Going into combat was another thing he could never get used to, especially the final few minutes before arrival. When the first round was fired from his C-14 Impaler Gauss rifle however, it all became rather straight forward.
Today's mission was something John had done a few times before in his 2 years as a Dominion marine. Shore up the defences of a Terran fortification, hold the position until further reinforcements arrived, prepare the ground for a counter attack, and charge forward at the order of the commander. It all sounded complicated and drawn out in theory, but for John, he knew his personal job scope very well. Aim, fire, reload. Rinse and repeat.
"ETA 1 minute"
The planet they were landing on, of which the name was omitted from the briefing was primarily flat terrain dotted by rolling hills. John never knew the names of the planets or system he had fought on as it was deemed unnecessary for a marine to know. His to fight and die, not to ask why or where.
What he did know was that this planet was under attack from the Zerg and the fighting was entering its 6th hour. He also knew from experience that if any Zerg infestation was not eradicated within 12 standard hours of first contact, the chance of a Terran victory was diminished by half every subsequent hour. The commander in charge of this battlefield had 6 hours to win this battle, or John hoped he would be one of the lucky ones to be pulled out during the evacuation. He had been lucky for 2 years, and that was deemed by many as being lucky beyond all possibilities. He hoped lady luck would not desert him today.
"ETA 10 seconds, lock and load! Good luck boys."
The restraining bars lifted and the belts shot back into the wall sockets. John lifted his rifle and stood up, grabbing the support handles mounted on the drop ship's ceiling.
"Everybody UP!" He shouted and the 11 other marines stood in unison.
He was the designated squad leader for this mission. The original squad commander, Sergeant Manny, had bought it on their last mission, dying under the claws of 2 Zerglings. John was due for promotion to Sergeant as it was, but due to inefficient administration, they deployed before he got the order.
The drop ship vibrated and rocked as the thrusters compensated for the combined downward push and pull of machine and gravity. Then it was relatively peaceful for a second or 2 as the pilot stabilised the ship.
"You are GO for deployment" the pilot roared.
The massive door located at the back of the drop ship eased outwards with a thud as it hit the earth. John sprang out, moving forward to allow the rest of his squad space to dismount. The sounds of battle was in the air, the most prominent being a battery of siege tanks firing its Arclite Shock Cannons. Other drop ships were spewing out marines from his battalion, the 3rd Korhal Infantry Battalion, and the marines were running to form up into their companies and platoons. The symbol of the 3rd Korhal Infantry Battalion; a marine driving his boot through a Hydralisk gleamed on the right shoulder armour of every marine. They had deployed at a Dominion base code named Omega Base.
"HIDE! Status report!"
John turned to see 1st Sergeant Stanley Durling, his platoon sergeant moving towards him.
Both marines knew each other well, since way back when Lance Corporal Hide and Corporal Durling first fought together in the same squad more than a year ago. They had been in the same platoon ever since and were the only 2 surviving members from that era. An 'era' to a Terran marine was usually 6 months, anything more was sheer luck. 1st Sergeant Stanley "Sarge" Durling had been in the Corp for 3 years, and was something of a living legend. His unimaginative nick name was another testament to his ferocity, as nobody else could lay claim to that usually common nick name.
"Sarge, 3rd squad is ready and accounted for" John said over the platoon 3 transmission channel.
"Alright keep your boys on their toes; we're moving out to reinforce the right flank of the line. The lieutenant wants weapons and ammunitions only. Drop everything else."
"3rd squad you heard the man, drop your supplies, check your weapons and let's MOVE!"
Like all marine deployments, the initial minutes were filled with gung-ho bravado as the intact battalion of 600 marines prepared to move out. John knew that in 30 minutes, it would be chaos and confusion, and they may all be dead or dying on a planet which name they didn't even know.
The squad checked their weapons for the umpteenth time since leaving the Battlecruiser, and moved out in a straight file towards their assigned zone, which was highlighted on each marine's HUD. The marines marched quickly behind the second line of defence, which was still being constructed by numerous Space Construction Vehicles. The hardy SCVs scampered around, wielding together bunkers and missile turret emplacements. This would be where the army would fall back to should the first position fall. Marching along here was perhaps the safest the marines would feel for the next few hours, as hundreds of Siege tanks and other Dominion weapons of war, not to mention the thousands of infantry worked to keep the rampaging Zerg at bay.
The marines ahead streamed off to the left as they reached their designated position but platoon 3 continued marching. Platoon 3 of Epsilon Company, 3rd Korhal Infantry Battalion was to be deployed at the extreme right of the mile long line. As he cleared the last building, John saw the battlefield for the first time.
It was a featureless land, with rolling hills in the distance. Clouds obscured the rising sun. As far as the eye could see, pockets of ferocious creatures were moving towards the Terran line. Zerg. Despite the neuro-conditioning and light stim drugs John had received before deployment, a primal instinct in him stirred. It felt right to run. It felt right to leave this place. Training kicked in a second later and he moved towards the defensive line purposefully, his squad trailing behind him.
A row of siege tanks - John counted 8, was deployed at the rear of his assigned position. In front of the Siege Tanks, were a row of haphazardly positioned bunkers, some of them lightly damaged. Whoever had ordered the bunkers constructed obviously didn't have plenty of time to plan or position the buildings.
Standing by one of the bunkers was Lieutenant Harold Butterfield, platoon 3s commanding officer.
Harold Butterfield had been platoon 3s officer commanding for a few months now. He did a fair job as far as John was concerned but officers would always be officers, different from the men, living in their own world. They would never know what the men experienced, no matter how hard they tried. He only hoped his officer was competent, but in his 2 years he had had more incompetent officers leading from the back rather than competent ones.
"Right. Gentlemen, deploy yourselves in the trench in front of the bunkers. This shall be your position until further orders. First Sergeant Durling on me, the rest of you move out!" The Lieutenant said curtly.
A number of affirmatives were heard over the comm. channel and John moved into the trench with his squad. It must have rained recently because the floor of the trench was filled ankle deep with muddy water. What a place to die, thought John.
The bunkers were filled with marines from other battalions, but from which battalions John did not know. That information too, was deemed unnecessary for John and his like to know.
"Hey Hidey, you reckon we'll be here long? I don't want my boots to rust, man!"
That was Lance Corporal Adrian Banayoun, 3rd squad's unofficial 2IC since the death of Sergeant Manny. John heard sniggers and vulgar remarks from the rest of the squad as they deployed.
"Shut your gap Ben, and watch the line! I want you on the extreme left, and make the new guys stand next to you. They're your responsibility today." John said. He received a green acknowledgement wink on his squad HUD.
Adrian Benayoun was a 1 year soldier, and had served with John since he joined up. Nobody knew why somebody else was in the Dominion Marine Corp, and nobody really cared. John's memory from 2 years ago was a blur, but he knew from his own unclassified personal records that he was here because of "crimes against the state" There were no angels in the Dominion Marine Corp.
John positioned his rifle atop the trench and looked out into no-man's land. There was a pile of Zerg bodies about 5 metres in front of him, but for now this section of the line seemed clear. The Zerg attacked ferociously and with great intelligence. The attacks were thin for a reason, and John suspected they were testing the Terran resolve, probing the line for weaknesses. Once that weakness was found, the Zerg would roll in their masses.
On the other side of the planet another fearsome battle was raging, but these things were outside of John's comprehension and he knew better than to think about it.
On his HUD, John saw 1st Sergeant Durling moving towards him. He turned in anticipation. Durling opened up a private comms. channel with him.
"Hide, your guys settled down good?"
"Just great Sarge, some coffee and fried eggs would make this beautiful morning just perfect!" John replied
"I'll see what I can ruffle up." Replied the Sergeant and they both shared a quick laugh. Both men were best friends as far as friendship came in the Corp. They had never gotten down to addressing each other by their first names though.
The sergeant continued, "I just spoke with the El Tee, today looks hopeful. The commander for this battle comes with a good reputation, he'll keep us safe."
"I do hope so Sarge, my wife called and said she wants me home for dinner by 1800hrs" John replied.
Throughout history, in every army, rumours like these spread during wars. "The commanding officer is competent, have no fear" or "I heard we're moving off the line to be replaced tomorrow". In his case, John had no reason to not believe it.
"Yeah. Just keep yourself safe ok. I'll be on your right flank with 1st squad." The 1st Sergeant said as he moved off to join his men.
John's gaze on Durling's imposing figure was interrupted by a burst of Gauss fire from the bunker directly above him.
The comm. Channels crackled to life. Shouts and curses came through fast and thick. "INCOMING!", "WE'VE GOT COMPANY", and "HERE WE GO" blasted over the channels.
A kilometre away, some shapes were moving towards platoon 3s position. They were still too far away to be specifically identified but they were definitely Zerg. John gave his rifle one last check, before thumbing off the safety and taking aim.
"Hold your fire until I say so, and keep the bloody unnecessary chatter off the channels" he shouted to his squad.
800 metres.
The huge hulking form of an Ultralisk came into view. The elephantine creature lumbered behind hundreds of Zerglings, which looked miniature in the distance. A smattering of Hydralisks could be seen forming on the flanks of the unruly hoard as they thundered their way ever closer towards the Terrans.
A bloody Ultralisk, first thing in the morning. Just wonderful. John thought as he jammed his foot firmly into the ground.
600 metres.
The 120mm Mjolnir Shock Cannons from the Siege Tanks fired their first salvo, the rounds ripping voids in the air as they travelled faster than the speed of sound towards the incoming Zerg. In the distance, the rounds smashed into the ground and blossomed into pretty flowers of dirt, shrapnel and gore. Still the Zerg came.
400 metres.
"Hold your fire. HOLD YOUR FIRE." John roared to his squad. It dawned to him that shouting those words were for his own benefit as well as for his squad's. That same primal instinct that had urged him to flee minutes ago was now telling him to depress the trigger and be done with this threat to his life. The siege tanks fired their 2nd volley. The marines in the bunkers above platoon 2 commenced fire.
200 metres.
"FIRE! LET THEM HAVE IT!" screamed John as he unleashed a stream of 8mm U-238 shells from his rifle.
The familiar report of his C-14 rifle and the comforting recoil from the rifle felt just like home. All the anxiety eased out of his system with the discharging of the rounds. John's training kicked in and he fired in 2 second bursts, unleashing 60 8mm rounds each time. With the help of the CMC 400's onboard targeting system, his aim was accurate to the centimetre. The Zerg would die today.
100 metres.
The Siege tanks fired their 3rd and final volley before deploying into their more mobile form, capable of firing twin 80mm with greater accuracy. It would be foolish to fire the inaccurate 120mm cannon at this distance and risk friendly fire. Even the Dominion was not that crazy, yet.
All across the section of line, 200 C-14 rifles blasted a wall of lead into the incoming horde, mauling the Zerglings as they tried to inch forward. The Hydralisks were better evolved to take punishment but they too withered before the unyielding stream of fire. One of two of them reached the side of the trench but collapsed into pulp before they could do any damage.
Only the Ultralisk kept coming. It had been spared the lion's share of punishment which was dished out to the lesser denizens. For some reason, nobody had ordered concentrated fire on the Ultralisk and its hulking form was 100 metres away from the trench. 3 of the siege tanks fired at the Ultralisk with no visible effect.
In 3 seconds, the monster had covered the remaining distance and crashed into a section of the trench to the left of 3rd squad's position, gorging and ripping with twin blades that resembled giant butcher knives. Screams filled the comm channels.
"SHOOT THAT PIECE OF SHIT!" Roared John to his squad. It was too late and he knew it, there would be casualties. 3rd squad fired nonetheless and the fire intensified a split second later as every single Terran gun in the area trained on the hulking form. The fire lasted a second before the Ultralisk rolled over on itself and exploded, spewing blood and chunks of flesh all over the trench and bunkers.
John turned towards the direction of the battlefield but there was nothing left to shoot, the wall of Zerg was stacked higher than before. He had survived the first encounter of the day.
"Status report! Talk to me dammit!" That was lieutenant Butterfield. Why the lieutenant had been silent all through the battle was lost to John.
The comms. Channel flooded with chatter but soon wittered down to the squad commander's voices. 3 marines were dead and another 2 were injured. They were all from 2nd squad, under Sergeant Gorst.
"Get the casualties out of the trench, keep watching the line!" said the lieutenant.
Green acknowledgement lights winked as Platoon 3 trained their sights onto no-man's land again.
Unknown to the defenders, a storm was brewing behind the mountain ridges. The Zerg Overlords had done enough probing and were ready to make the final push with the forces under their control. Numerous weak spots in the Terran defence line had been exposed, and one of these was the extreme right flank of the line. The Overlords had received strong psonic signals from the Cerebrates to move fast as they did not have much time. The Terran's grip on the planet was getting stronger by the minute as reinforcements streamed down onto the surface. Other battles raging across the planet were not going in the Zerg's favour.
Heeding the call of the Overlords, thousands of Zerg minions rallied themselves behind the cover of the hills, ready to slaughter the enemies of the swarm or die trying.