A Last Alliance
A/n: The shamelessly unoriginal prologue is intended as such. The author has already taken his 1,000 lashings of public humiliation. (
Jim Raynor watched as the second wave of drop ships screamed in from the sky. The drop ships hovered into position as their hatches opened disgorging marines and tanks. Next to them, Protoss shuttles emptied there own cargo of zealots and dragoons. The alliance Landing Zone on Char was a hive of well organized confusion, as units formed and more forces landed. Strengthening the weak toehold on the Zerg planet. Companies of Terrans and Protoss formed for battle. Creating a massive battle line almost two miles long, lengthening as more and more units were added to the line. A larger force had never been assembled, but it was still pitifully small compared to the forces arrayed against them. The air had an electric charge of anticipation and determination. With good reason, Raynor thought. No one had seen any Zerg yet, they were waiting, deep in their holes.
The Landing Zone was in the in the shadow of an enormous Volcano which almost reached the sky, spewing smoke and flame that created a foul black cloud that blackened everything for hundreds of miles. Pitted with cracks and fissures that glowed red from the magma, ash and dust falling like snow, it lay like a malevolent monster. The central hive for the Zerg. Where she was waiting for them. Her and all the armies she commanded.
Raynor looked out over the blackened, volcanic landscape. It was lifeless. Two Protoss scouts streaked past, low, towards the volcano, he watched them grow smaller and smaller, finally appearing as nothing more than dots. Jesus, he thought to himself, what are we getting ourselves into. He walked forward, making his way through the assembled men. His men recognized him and instantly came to attention. "General" they murmured as passed, their voices filled with respect. He saw even a few Protoss assume their version of a salute as we he walked past. He walked through them with a mumbled "At ease, at ease." He still hadn't gotten used to the honor they accorded him. It wasn't that long ago that he was commanding a local militia. Now he had the largest army ever assembled at his command. They had fought through world after world, each one filled to the brim with dead to get to this point. It was the final showdown.
The last few companies assumed position. The line was complete. Raynor walked ahead of the line and turned around, so he could survey the entire line. The massive line resembled more a medieval formation, than any modern military one. Protoss and Terran stood shoulder to shoulder, Arclite tanks idled next Dragoons. The two sides had become as brothers in the fire of war. Casualties had meant that the army, first segregated, had become a mix of Protoss and Terran, standing side by side for the final battle.
Raynor unslung his C-14. The battle line made ready, the very air filled with the hum of Psi Blades as they flashed into existence, marines lock and loaded their rifles, Arclites and Vultures charged their cannons. It was time.
Raynor drew himself up to his full height, the command started somewhere deep in his chest, exploding out of his mouth like the roar of a Battlecruiser. "BATTLE LINE, FORWARD MARCH!" The command was echoed down the full length of the line. Growing with every repetition until it shook the very air. Raynor's mind also reeled with the telepathic calls of the Protoss. This was the final battle. The hard remnants of whatever forces the two races could muster, fighting the endless legions of the Zerg.
The line lurched to life, shimmering as each man and Protoss took a step with their left leg, then the right. The sound of thousands of feet marching in step was like a massive piston. Reaver assault crawlers ground forward next to crab like Dragoons and Siege tanks. Goliath armored walkers stalked forward, their twin auto cannons pointing the way forward.
Raynor watched the men next to him; their heads were locked forwards like stone statues, a mask of grim determination settled over their features. It made them look identical, like it had stripped away each ones features. They looked grim, Raynor knew the battle estimates, if everything went perfect, only half of these boys, no, men would walk away from this fight, and of those, seventy percent would be wounded.
The volcano grew, dominating everything in their field of vision, like a giant black hulk. The march continued over the black broken terrain, a black cloud had seemingly descended over the army, smothering all hope.
The Protoss and Terran army reached the base of the volcano, the entire army, closing in on the volcano, surrounded no more a third of its base. The first companies of men had started up when the Zerg attacked.
The sound was that of a distant thunderstorm, and the earth shook as from an earthquake. But it was actually the sound of thousands upon thousands of clawed feet striking the ground, and that was just from the Zerg that possessed feet.
The rumble built for a few more moments, with no Zerg in site, and then they appeared, crawling from every crack, fissure and cave in the volcano. There was no order to the Zerg, Zerglings, Hydralisks, Ultralisks and others far outnumbering the small allied force formed a living wall of death and malice sweeping down the side of the volcano.
The battle was about to be joined.
A/n: The shamelessly unoriginal prologue is intended as such. The author has already taken his 1,000 lashings of public humiliation. (
Jim Raynor watched as the second wave of drop ships screamed in from the sky. The drop ships hovered into position as their hatches opened disgorging marines and tanks. Next to them, Protoss shuttles emptied there own cargo of zealots and dragoons. The alliance Landing Zone on Char was a hive of well organized confusion, as units formed and more forces landed. Strengthening the weak toehold on the Zerg planet. Companies of Terrans and Protoss formed for battle. Creating a massive battle line almost two miles long, lengthening as more and more units were added to the line. A larger force had never been assembled, but it was still pitifully small compared to the forces arrayed against them. The air had an electric charge of anticipation and determination. With good reason, Raynor thought. No one had seen any Zerg yet, they were waiting, deep in their holes.
The Landing Zone was in the in the shadow of an enormous Volcano which almost reached the sky, spewing smoke and flame that created a foul black cloud that blackened everything for hundreds of miles. Pitted with cracks and fissures that glowed red from the magma, ash and dust falling like snow, it lay like a malevolent monster. The central hive for the Zerg. Where she was waiting for them. Her and all the armies she commanded.
Raynor looked out over the blackened, volcanic landscape. It was lifeless. Two Protoss scouts streaked past, low, towards the volcano, he watched them grow smaller and smaller, finally appearing as nothing more than dots. Jesus, he thought to himself, what are we getting ourselves into. He walked forward, making his way through the assembled men. His men recognized him and instantly came to attention. "General" they murmured as passed, their voices filled with respect. He saw even a few Protoss assume their version of a salute as we he walked past. He walked through them with a mumbled "At ease, at ease." He still hadn't gotten used to the honor they accorded him. It wasn't that long ago that he was commanding a local militia. Now he had the largest army ever assembled at his command. They had fought through world after world, each one filled to the brim with dead to get to this point. It was the final showdown.
The last few companies assumed position. The line was complete. Raynor walked ahead of the line and turned around, so he could survey the entire line. The massive line resembled more a medieval formation, than any modern military one. Protoss and Terran stood shoulder to shoulder, Arclite tanks idled next Dragoons. The two sides had become as brothers in the fire of war. Casualties had meant that the army, first segregated, had become a mix of Protoss and Terran, standing side by side for the final battle.
Raynor unslung his C-14. The battle line made ready, the very air filled with the hum of Psi Blades as they flashed into existence, marines lock and loaded their rifles, Arclites and Vultures charged their cannons. It was time.
Raynor drew himself up to his full height, the command started somewhere deep in his chest, exploding out of his mouth like the roar of a Battlecruiser. "BATTLE LINE, FORWARD MARCH!" The command was echoed down the full length of the line. Growing with every repetition until it shook the very air. Raynor's mind also reeled with the telepathic calls of the Protoss. This was the final battle. The hard remnants of whatever forces the two races could muster, fighting the endless legions of the Zerg.
The line lurched to life, shimmering as each man and Protoss took a step with their left leg, then the right. The sound of thousands of feet marching in step was like a massive piston. Reaver assault crawlers ground forward next to crab like Dragoons and Siege tanks. Goliath armored walkers stalked forward, their twin auto cannons pointing the way forward.
Raynor watched the men next to him; their heads were locked forwards like stone statues, a mask of grim determination settled over their features. It made them look identical, like it had stripped away each ones features. They looked grim, Raynor knew the battle estimates, if everything went perfect, only half of these boys, no, men would walk away from this fight, and of those, seventy percent would be wounded.
The volcano grew, dominating everything in their field of vision, like a giant black hulk. The march continued over the black broken terrain, a black cloud had seemingly descended over the army, smothering all hope.
The Protoss and Terran army reached the base of the volcano, the entire army, closing in on the volcano, surrounded no more a third of its base. The first companies of men had started up when the Zerg attacked.
The sound was that of a distant thunderstorm, and the earth shook as from an earthquake. But it was actually the sound of thousands upon thousands of clawed feet striking the ground, and that was just from the Zerg that possessed feet.
The rumble built for a few more moments, with no Zerg in site, and then they appeared, crawling from every crack, fissure and cave in the volcano. There was no order to the Zerg, Zerglings, Hydralisks, Ultralisks and others far outnumbering the small allied force formed a living wall of death and malice sweeping down the side of the volcano.
The battle was about to be joined.