Sector of Blood

Chapter 2: The Directorate Strikes


The round, gelatinous creature moved slowly into the main hive on the planet Corsica, towards Kerrigan. He quivered with step -- if you could call his movements "steps," since he has no legs. "My queen, we have established seven hive clusters, with three more being built as we speak. Scout groups have been sent to patrol the surrounding area. Mutalisk groups scouting the space around the planet have detected an incoming UED fleet. They have no knowledge of our presence," he explained.

"Good, Asz," Kerrigan said, once again intrigued by his ingenuity. "Make sure those last hive clusters are constructed before they get here. Attempt to determine where the fleet will land its forces, and send them a . . . greeting party."

"Yes my queen," Asz said and went to his tasks.

Kerrigan sat back in the hive, contemplating her strategy against the UED fleet. She knew she had the advantage of surprise, an advantage she would most likely use. The UED is much more of a threat than I initially assumed, she thought, they must be eliminated.

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"Joe, this is the nastiest shit you ever cooked up," Orlando Tredegar remarked after tasting his dinner -- if you could describe it as being actual food. It was more of a mixture of thick water and biscuits that would break your teeth if you weren't careful. "Hell, these biscuits of yours would make better baseballs that food." That comment drew laughter from the men around him.

Joe Shneider scowled at the men. "Well if you soldiers," -- he put a sarcastic emphasis on soldiers -- "would raid a convoy carrying some decent food and a few spices, I might be able to do better. I'm workin' with next to nothin' here. Besides, it'll fill ya up, even if it ain't good." Orlando couldn't argue with that logic. It would fill the soldiers up, if they didn't puke it all out afterwards. The rebellion higher-ups only told them to attack weapons convoys, they didn't seem to care about the kind of food their troops ate.

Suddenly, a shell hit a tree and exploded, sending two people flying in several different directions, literally, for they had been ripped into pieces. "What the hell was that?" Charlie Wilcox yelled from behind Orlando.

Joe Shneider came running back up to them. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear that was a shell from an arc-" he never finished what he was going to say. An arclite siege tank, with UED markings, rolled closer to the rebel camp and let loose a shell that tore Joe and three others to small, bloody, sickening pieces. Anyone who wasn't puking their guts out from the lunch either was or wanted to now.

"Tanks!" Orlando yelled. Everyone else in the company already knew. They were racing to their armor and weapons, hoping to outrun the sprays of death coming from the surprise attack. Some of them must have reached their gear, because as Orlando was running to his, he started hearing Gause rifle fire. Then he noticed where it was coming from. "Oh shit," he said in disbelief, "it's a whole damn army!"

"Retreat!" Captain McIver yelled, right before 3 bullets ripped through his armor and out of the other side of his armor. The force pushed him a step forward. He looked down, put a hand to his wounds, and fell over. The company, however, heard his order and was all too happy to obey. The whole lot of them turned and ran into the deep woods of Tarsonis, with an entire UED armored division on their heels.

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"Alright men," Lieutenant James Polk shouted inside the dropship. He really didn't need to shout, with the confinement in the ship, a drop of sweat could fall off someone's nose and it would be heard clear as a bell. "We're going into possible hostile territory. Recon reports there are no threats on the surface. We need to be prepared. We're looking for any survivors from the Centaur group. First squad and second squad, you will secure the landing zone. Third and fourth squads, you'll advance ahead, and check for any hostiles in our designated base area. DO YOU GET ME?"

"We get you, sir!" was the cheer he got from the platoon.

The dropship lifted off with a jolt from the flood of the ship they were on. The cruised out into space and began the turbulent descent through the Corsican atmosphere. Ernie chuckled at the new recruits, who had just been assigned to the platoon, and were currently turning several different shades of green and trying their hardest to not throw up.

The ship landed with a thud onto the surface of Corsica, and the first two squads left and formed a line around the area. Then it was time for Ernie's squad to go out. Ernie kissed a cross he kept with him for good luck, as was his custom when he went to combat. His squad ran out the door and formed up just behind the first two. Then, along with the fourth squad, they went forward, slowly. Ernie looked around, and saw a lot of other people moving in the same direction. He was relieved that he wasn't alone. Looking back, he noticed a small army of SCVs rolling out of more dropships and beginning to build a base. The few siege tanks they left with were positioning themselves on hills and ridges all around. Soon, the advancing line stopped.

"It's too quiet," George said, looking around.

"Quiet is good, means we don't get killed, yet, anyway," Ernie replied, also looking in al directions.

"Yeah, but this isn't that kinda quiet," George said with a hint of worry in his voice, "this is that scary kinda quiet, the kind that makes you know that somethin' is about to happen, or somethin' ain't right."

Suddenly, the ground behind them rippled and finally broke. Zerglings and hydralisks burst from the holes and charged the surprised UED forces. Mutalisks flew from out of the forests ahead of them.

"It's an ambush!" Ernie cried as zerglings ripped apart people all around him.

"I hate to say I told you so," George said.

"Fall back to the trenches!" Ernie's squad leader yelled. Ernie didn't have to be told twice. He and George turned and ran back to what would eventually become a base, if they survived long enough to build it. After what seemed to be an eternity of running, Ernie jumped into the first row of trenches the SCVs had just finished building. Ernie turned around again and began blazing away and the wave of zerg racing towards him. The wave kept coming. For every zergling he shot to bloody pieces, two more took it's place.

In places all over the trench, zerg reached the trench and jumped in, onto the heads of the UED marines blazing away with their Gauss rifles.

"God help us," Ernie murmered. Then, he heard a series of loud blasts, as the siege tanks deployed onto the hills around the area and began raining death down onto the zerg below. Slowly, the zerg began falling back. Ernie gave a loud sigh of relief.

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Vice Admiral Mikhail Petersen stepped into the control room of the main UED base on Korhal. His long-time friend and superior, Admiral Gerard DuGalle turned to address him. "What is the word from Corsica?" he asked.

"The fleet was ambushed shortly after landing ... by a large number of zerg forces. They managed to hold them off, but they report it will be difficult to fight off many more attacks," Mikhail answered.

"The zerg ... of course," DuGalle said with obvious concern in his voice. He sighed. "And what of the situation on Tarsonis?"

Mikhail replied, happily, "the ambush worked perfectly, Gerard. Tank divisions are hitting the rebels in every known camp they have. All of the rebels we attacked retreated with almost no resistance. It seems that they operate in small groups, and cannot stand up to the might of a frontal assault. However, they managed to get away from our armies in the forests."

"Excellent, keep them isolated, I don't want them joining up."

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