Ok so here's chapter 2, thanks very much to bdun for reviewing. In answer to the question, the planes in the previous chapter were primitive because unfortunately Earth isn't as equal as its colonies and Africa is still poorer than the rest of us. Don't shoot me.
One note, because this is set sometime between Brood War and StarCraft 2 most of the units will be from the Brood War Saga, with only the odd one or two that I really like from the new game.
Disclaimer: I only own the plot... and Patrick... oh and that blue beetle car. That's it though.
Battle on a New Front
Chapter 1: The Enactment of a Plan
Patrick sat staring out the window of the desert transport vehicle, chin on his hand and elbow slowly sliding off the window ledge as the engine vibrations worked their way through his brain. He was on a family holiday to see safari. Thinking about it he smiled wryly, there wasn't even any real safari here anyways, most of it had been extinct for the better part of forty years. All they were going to see was some giant zoo which tried its best to pretend it was a safari.
The blue, beetle shaped vehicle raced along the desert roadway, a small plume of dust rising behind it. Ever so slowly the road began to curve, changing from due north to a more westerly direction.
Patrick flinched, sitting back away from the window as the harsh sun struck his pale skin. These were supposed to be desert vehicles but the polarisation on the windows really wasn't designed to accommodate sheltered kids from what used to be England.
He sighed.
"Oi wranger, what you sighing about?" (AN: Wranger is slang for a person with red hair.)
Patrick flinched, that was his dumbass brother. Ah well, not long now and he could ignore him. His bro was actually interested in the animals so Patrick would get a couple of hour's peace hanging around at the Café while the older nitwit went cavorting.
* * *
The defiler rose up quietly, its burnt orange-brown body blending perfectly with the scorching sand upon which it crawled. The blue vehicle approaching it was fast but perfect, and so it readied itself.
When the vehicle was less than a hundred metres away its external flaps opened, its body flexed and thick brown smoke poured from its body into the air. A swarm of microscopic particles rising like a sudden cloud of dust to obscure the road.
Bitumen raked, tyres squealed, the blue bug vanished into the cloud with an audible 'whoomph'.
* * *
Patrick sat up straight, staring out the window as the driver swore and the car' brakes squealed. In the front seat his mother was panicking and his dad was yelling at the driver trying to find out what had happened. Almost without thinking he undid his seatbelt to lean forward and ask… this would save his life.
There was a wrenching sound, metal screeched and glass shattered. Patrick thought he saw something, a glimpse perhaps of a giant bug before the same brown dust from outside flooded the car.
His brother let out a yell, his mother's screaming was abruptly cut short.
In a sudden panic he turned, grabbed the door handle and pulled. It was a fluke beyond reckoning. The chances of finding and opening a car door when in a panic and blind are small enough that panicking is the leading cause of death in vehicle accidents and yet in a miracle moment it worked. With a thud Patrick tumbled out of the car, landing on the tarmac heavily and rolling onto his back.
Another scream was cut short and he began to crawl away. His breathing was ragged and it was several moments before he realised he was crying. Dirt, sand and miscellaneous brown gunk stained his face in the wetness and he stopped his crawling. Sitting at the bottom of a sand bowl he tried to wipe it off his face and only then realised that the shouts had stopped. He could still hear bumping as the thing moved around, trying to get back out of the car.
The cloud of brown stuff began to clear and he noticed a scraggly bush nearby, adding shade to a narrow slip between dunes. Hastily he scrabbled towards it, kicking up sand in his haste to find somewhere which offered a modicum of safety. There, he curled himself into a ball, hugging his knees, and wept quietly.
All the things they said about accidents and staying near the car went through his head. All the promising statistics he'd read about survivors being found after horrendous incidents ran through his mind.
None of it helped.
* * *
The defiler returned to the hive cluster, bloated with its prize… and again, Kerrigan smiled.
So yeah. I hope you like it. R&R please. I don't really care what you say but every person that reviews is another chapter that I feel motivated to write.