First in, Last out
The Siege of Combat base Gloria
Taggart stood in the field, elephant grass surrounding him, any other time this scene would have been on the travel guide of any planet. The see of tall grass was a soft golden color in the sun, contrasting sharply with the dark green of the luscious jungle on the far side. A slight breeze rippled the stalks of grass listlessly. His mind was racing, what the hell was wrong with him? What had brought this fear on? A cold sweat ran through his body despite the blazing sun cooking his armored suit.
Weapons fire, strobing in the jungle, screa- No! Not now, he wouldn't let the demons of his past out now, he was a marine, he had a job to do
Kneeling down, Taggart motioned his radioman up, there was a rustle of grass behind him and then the young marine was kneeling next to him. "I want a Com sat sweep of this clearing, tell the company commanders to hold for further orders." Taggart whispered to the marine, who seemed confused at Taggart's low tone. He got on the radio and began relaying coordinates, his voice seeming impossibly loud to the anxious commander.
The radio silent, despite his screams for help, noone th-
A small timer on Taggart's display flickered to life, scrolling down from two minutes, the time it would take a satellite to come into station above the battalion's position. When the timer hit zero, Taggart's tactical map suddenly came into tighter focus, for a few seconds displaying a live picture, Taggart quickly flipped through the different viewing modes, from thermal to ultraviolet, any of which would detect Zerg, burrowed or not. Nothing, the picture remained the same, undisturbed. No black pockets on the thermal viewer announced burrowed Zerg.
The jungle alive with movement, but nothing showing, not even on infare-
Taggart slowly got to his feet, shaking off the memories of that awful night. "All companies, reform into mixed column." A mixed column would have Arclites and Goliaths scattered about its length, optimizing the amount of firepower at anyone point in the column. Taggart watched as his men expertly reformed, all 100+ marines and vehicles quickly and efficiently repositioning themselves. Squad leaders made sure that their marines were covering their fields of fire, tanks swiveled their turrets to the side and Goliaths swiveled their autocannons to cover either side.
Taking a deep breath, Taggart gave the order to move out. The battalion again started, the point squad moving out first, cautiously, followed by the rest of the column. For some reason he couldn't explain, Taggart drifted to the front of the column, despite the growing dread in each step. He looked over and saw that he was walking next to the platoon leader he had talked to just before the drop began.
Jason Harold moved through the elephant grass, scanning his head almost rhythmically. His platoon was on point, his four-man point squad out about a hundred yards of the main body of his platoon. Behind him was the platoon's HMG. Harold himself carried two belts of 20mm ammo wrapped around his armor. Behind his platoon was the Captain and his command group. Looking over, Harold was surprised to see the Major walking next to him. He nodded, but he didn't think the Major saw, his face was pale and he was staring intently forward. Must be the heat, thought Harold, gets to everybody after awhile, even with the air conditioning in the CMC suits.
Harold noticed that the ground seemed to sink, a little more than usual with each step. Looking down, he noticed that the ground was still wet from the morning's fog. He shrugged it off and continued walking; making sure his platoon was properly spaced.
Taggart was surprised when he heard a crunching sound beneath his feet, pulling his feet up, it was coated with sticky pieces of something, almost like caramelized candy. Creep. Impossible, creep would kill anything it was near; there wouldn't be any fie-
The Hydralisks rose from the grass in perfect unison, like serpents pulling themselves up to strike. A complete ring of them, around the marine column. One was only ten yards from Taggart. Instantly the air was filled with the sound of weapons being readied, but no one fired. Taggart had his C-14 leveled at the nearest Hydralisk as more and more Zerg rose silently from the grass. They were slightly larger than normal Zerg, covered in an intricate blue pattern. Kulkullan. It was the Kulkullan assault brood. It was one of the few Zerg broods Taggart hadn't faced in battle with his battalion but their reputation and savagery was legendary. If the Kulkullan brood was on planet, then there was at least one more main force brood that no one knew about. The marine forces on planet were suddenly outnumbered several hundred to one.
Blue. Taggart remembered blue, almost black in the minimal light of the jungle. Creatures, tattooed blue chopping apart Taggart's command while he watched helplessly, his ammo counter blinking out a triple zero like a three-eyed horror. The paralyzing fear Taggart had felt in the jungle so long ago, multiplied. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. His mind was a white-hot blanket through which nothing could penetrate. Nothing. Someone near behind him was muttering 'Oh God, oh God, oh God." over and over again.
Harold was holding his rifle so tightly that it was shaking; his targeting dot jittered over the head of a Hydralisk. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to die, he didn't want to die, he didn't want to di-
Taggart stood there, his mind locked in the jaws of fear, when something deep inside his mind snapped. Suddenly the white fear inside his mind vanished, replaced by something cold and hard. Revenge. This was worst ambush Taggart had ever walked into, but it would give him a chance to rack up some bodies. Suddenly he was able to think again, he realized the minutes he had been standing still had been a moment, selecting his grenade launcher, he squeezed the trigger, blowing the blue Hydra facing it in half at the waist.
Both sides opened up as one, tearing into each other with lead and bone. A normal marine battalion would have fragmented and run, Taggart's CAB held their ground and fought. Zerg and Terran tearing into each other at less than point blank range. The Zerg charged falling upon the marines as a blue wave crashing down upon a shore. The air was filled with the crescendo of a hundred weapons firing at once. Muzzle flashes blinked everywhere, filling Taggart's sight with the image of the entire marine line. He swiveled his rifle and fired a grenade at the feet of the nearest Zergling, the blast blowing pieces of it into the air. A Goliath exploded under the concentrated pounding it was receiving. The head of the armored walked exploding and the legs falling to either side. An Arclite fired a canister at a horde of Zerglings only ten yards away, shredding most of them but behind them was another group, charging past the bodies of their fallen and reaching the tank before the crew could load another shell.
He was suddenly looking up at the clear, bright sky. He was down in the elephant grass. He sat up; staring at the back of his radioman who was engaging targets he couldn't see in short, clipped bursts. Taggart stood up, raising his C-14 and sprayed a Zergling charging at him from the left. The creature fell as a stream of gauss slugs hammered it into the ground. The situation was rapidly falling apart. Zerg were popping up inside the marine line and attacking marines who were facing the wrong way.
His left arm seemed sluggish; looking at his shoulder he saw a hole where a Zerg spine had punched through the armor. Probing the hole carefully his fingers came out bloody. He was hit. He had never been hit before. Quickly, he stuffed an aid patch in the hole and covered the hole with a repair patch. He didn't want anyone else to see. Bringing up his C- 14, he opened fire at the nearest Zerg and tried to find his radioman.
Harold kept the trigger down, dragging the recoiling weapon's sight dot over a Zergling; he held it on there until the shots started splattering the Zerg's internal organs. Kneeling down he ejected a spent magazine, while a marine from third squad who had been reloading rose up and opened fire to cover him. He locked a round in and was about to rise again when the marine next to him arched his back and was lifted skyward by and enormous tentacle that had impaled him. Blood sprayed from the shattered marines armor, sparkling from the sun's rays as it flew across the sky.
"SUNKEN COLONY!" Harold screamed and opened fire at the tentacle, his light rifle rounds having little effect on the heavily armored tentacle. The marine it had hit was already dead, having been vertically impaled. There was no way a sunken colony could be here, there wasn't any creep. It was a physical impossibility. He pumped a grenade into the tentacle, joined by several marines and a Goliath, all pouring fire into the appendage as it retreated into the ground.
There was an enormous sucking sound behind him. Turning around, a massive hole had formed in the ground, the inside of the holes walls were a pulsing, organic mass. A green, unnatural light was being produced from around a corner. And rapidly coming closer from inside the canal, the sound of Zerg screeching war cries.
Harold had enough time to scream a warning to the marines around him and bring up his rifle, when the full mass of Zerg pulled them out of the newly formed Nydus Canal.
Taggart saw the new wave of Zerg appear inside the marine perimeter. He emptied his C-14 at the mass of Zerg, with no effect. There were too many. The dead Zerg were instantly replaced by new ones from the canal. Kneeling down, he grabbed the radio from his dead radioman's back; the young marine's face had been half shot away by Zerg spines. Grabbing the handset he yelled into it "Gunslinger 6 to all units, fall back, fall back to point." Taggart hastily designated a point on his tactical map halfway back at the strip "point.black jack 2."
Slamming in a new magazine, Taggart dropped three Zerg in rapid succession in a semi-circle around his position. An Arclite from Delta company erupted in a geyser of flame, the ammo for its cannon cooking off. Grabbing the three nearest marines to him who were still engaging Zerg he turned and ran south.
The battalion, with unit cohesion lost due to casualties and the confusion in the tall grass, finally fragmented. Those who could make their way south did, often having to shoot Zerg working their way behind the battalion. The retreat was a free for all, with little order or reason. The Zerg followed relentlessly. More Zerg emerged from the northern tree line, these didn't have the blue markings of the Kulkullan, rather they were a main force Zerg brood, designed to mop up and exploit the Kulkullans success.
Those who couldn't retreat, like Jason Harold, cut off by Zerg and running low on ammunition, threw themselves flat in the tall grass, surrounded by bodies and carnage, and prayed. It was 1100 and the sun was almost finished climbing into the sky. The field was quiet except for the rustling of Zerg through the grass, bodies were splayed out in random patterns, like young children making snow angels, blood leaking from them into the tall grass.
Taggart stood in the field, elephant grass surrounding him, any other time this scene would have been on the travel guide of any planet. The see of tall grass was a soft golden color in the sun, contrasting sharply with the dark green of the luscious jungle on the far side. A slight breeze rippled the stalks of grass listlessly. His mind was racing, what the hell was wrong with him? What had brought this fear on? A cold sweat ran through his body despite the blazing sun cooking his armored suit.
Weapons fire, strobing in the jungle, screa- No! Not now, he wouldn't let the demons of his past out now, he was a marine, he had a job to do
Kneeling down, Taggart motioned his radioman up, there was a rustle of grass behind him and then the young marine was kneeling next to him. "I want a Com sat sweep of this clearing, tell the company commanders to hold for further orders." Taggart whispered to the marine, who seemed confused at Taggart's low tone. He got on the radio and began relaying coordinates, his voice seeming impossibly loud to the anxious commander.
The radio silent, despite his screams for help, noone th-
A small timer on Taggart's display flickered to life, scrolling down from two minutes, the time it would take a satellite to come into station above the battalion's position. When the timer hit zero, Taggart's tactical map suddenly came into tighter focus, for a few seconds displaying a live picture, Taggart quickly flipped through the different viewing modes, from thermal to ultraviolet, any of which would detect Zerg, burrowed or not. Nothing, the picture remained the same, undisturbed. No black pockets on the thermal viewer announced burrowed Zerg.
The jungle alive with movement, but nothing showing, not even on infare-
Taggart slowly got to his feet, shaking off the memories of that awful night. "All companies, reform into mixed column." A mixed column would have Arclites and Goliaths scattered about its length, optimizing the amount of firepower at anyone point in the column. Taggart watched as his men expertly reformed, all 100+ marines and vehicles quickly and efficiently repositioning themselves. Squad leaders made sure that their marines were covering their fields of fire, tanks swiveled their turrets to the side and Goliaths swiveled their autocannons to cover either side.
Taking a deep breath, Taggart gave the order to move out. The battalion again started, the point squad moving out first, cautiously, followed by the rest of the column. For some reason he couldn't explain, Taggart drifted to the front of the column, despite the growing dread in each step. He looked over and saw that he was walking next to the platoon leader he had talked to just before the drop began.
Jason Harold moved through the elephant grass, scanning his head almost rhythmically. His platoon was on point, his four-man point squad out about a hundred yards of the main body of his platoon. Behind him was the platoon's HMG. Harold himself carried two belts of 20mm ammo wrapped around his armor. Behind his platoon was the Captain and his command group. Looking over, Harold was surprised to see the Major walking next to him. He nodded, but he didn't think the Major saw, his face was pale and he was staring intently forward. Must be the heat, thought Harold, gets to everybody after awhile, even with the air conditioning in the CMC suits.
Harold noticed that the ground seemed to sink, a little more than usual with each step. Looking down, he noticed that the ground was still wet from the morning's fog. He shrugged it off and continued walking; making sure his platoon was properly spaced.
Taggart was surprised when he heard a crunching sound beneath his feet, pulling his feet up, it was coated with sticky pieces of something, almost like caramelized candy. Creep. Impossible, creep would kill anything it was near; there wouldn't be any fie-
The Hydralisks rose from the grass in perfect unison, like serpents pulling themselves up to strike. A complete ring of them, around the marine column. One was only ten yards from Taggart. Instantly the air was filled with the sound of weapons being readied, but no one fired. Taggart had his C-14 leveled at the nearest Hydralisk as more and more Zerg rose silently from the grass. They were slightly larger than normal Zerg, covered in an intricate blue pattern. Kulkullan. It was the Kulkullan assault brood. It was one of the few Zerg broods Taggart hadn't faced in battle with his battalion but their reputation and savagery was legendary. If the Kulkullan brood was on planet, then there was at least one more main force brood that no one knew about. The marine forces on planet were suddenly outnumbered several hundred to one.
Blue. Taggart remembered blue, almost black in the minimal light of the jungle. Creatures, tattooed blue chopping apart Taggart's command while he watched helplessly, his ammo counter blinking out a triple zero like a three-eyed horror. The paralyzing fear Taggart had felt in the jungle so long ago, multiplied. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. His mind was a white-hot blanket through which nothing could penetrate. Nothing. Someone near behind him was muttering 'Oh God, oh God, oh God." over and over again.
Harold was holding his rifle so tightly that it was shaking; his targeting dot jittered over the head of a Hydralisk. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to die, he didn't want to die, he didn't want to di-
Taggart stood there, his mind locked in the jaws of fear, when something deep inside his mind snapped. Suddenly the white fear inside his mind vanished, replaced by something cold and hard. Revenge. This was worst ambush Taggart had ever walked into, but it would give him a chance to rack up some bodies. Suddenly he was able to think again, he realized the minutes he had been standing still had been a moment, selecting his grenade launcher, he squeezed the trigger, blowing the blue Hydra facing it in half at the waist.
Both sides opened up as one, tearing into each other with lead and bone. A normal marine battalion would have fragmented and run, Taggart's CAB held their ground and fought. Zerg and Terran tearing into each other at less than point blank range. The Zerg charged falling upon the marines as a blue wave crashing down upon a shore. The air was filled with the crescendo of a hundred weapons firing at once. Muzzle flashes blinked everywhere, filling Taggart's sight with the image of the entire marine line. He swiveled his rifle and fired a grenade at the feet of the nearest Zergling, the blast blowing pieces of it into the air. A Goliath exploded under the concentrated pounding it was receiving. The head of the armored walked exploding and the legs falling to either side. An Arclite fired a canister at a horde of Zerglings only ten yards away, shredding most of them but behind them was another group, charging past the bodies of their fallen and reaching the tank before the crew could load another shell.
He was suddenly looking up at the clear, bright sky. He was down in the elephant grass. He sat up; staring at the back of his radioman who was engaging targets he couldn't see in short, clipped bursts. Taggart stood up, raising his C-14 and sprayed a Zergling charging at him from the left. The creature fell as a stream of gauss slugs hammered it into the ground. The situation was rapidly falling apart. Zerg were popping up inside the marine line and attacking marines who were facing the wrong way.
His left arm seemed sluggish; looking at his shoulder he saw a hole where a Zerg spine had punched through the armor. Probing the hole carefully his fingers came out bloody. He was hit. He had never been hit before. Quickly, he stuffed an aid patch in the hole and covered the hole with a repair patch. He didn't want anyone else to see. Bringing up his C- 14, he opened fire at the nearest Zerg and tried to find his radioman.
Harold kept the trigger down, dragging the recoiling weapon's sight dot over a Zergling; he held it on there until the shots started splattering the Zerg's internal organs. Kneeling down he ejected a spent magazine, while a marine from third squad who had been reloading rose up and opened fire to cover him. He locked a round in and was about to rise again when the marine next to him arched his back and was lifted skyward by and enormous tentacle that had impaled him. Blood sprayed from the shattered marines armor, sparkling from the sun's rays as it flew across the sky.
"SUNKEN COLONY!" Harold screamed and opened fire at the tentacle, his light rifle rounds having little effect on the heavily armored tentacle. The marine it had hit was already dead, having been vertically impaled. There was no way a sunken colony could be here, there wasn't any creep. It was a physical impossibility. He pumped a grenade into the tentacle, joined by several marines and a Goliath, all pouring fire into the appendage as it retreated into the ground.
There was an enormous sucking sound behind him. Turning around, a massive hole had formed in the ground, the inside of the holes walls were a pulsing, organic mass. A green, unnatural light was being produced from around a corner. And rapidly coming closer from inside the canal, the sound of Zerg screeching war cries.
Harold had enough time to scream a warning to the marines around him and bring up his rifle, when the full mass of Zerg pulled them out of the newly formed Nydus Canal.
Taggart saw the new wave of Zerg appear inside the marine perimeter. He emptied his C-14 at the mass of Zerg, with no effect. There were too many. The dead Zerg were instantly replaced by new ones from the canal. Kneeling down, he grabbed the radio from his dead radioman's back; the young marine's face had been half shot away by Zerg spines. Grabbing the handset he yelled into it "Gunslinger 6 to all units, fall back, fall back to point." Taggart hastily designated a point on his tactical map halfway back at the strip "point.black jack 2."
Slamming in a new magazine, Taggart dropped three Zerg in rapid succession in a semi-circle around his position. An Arclite from Delta company erupted in a geyser of flame, the ammo for its cannon cooking off. Grabbing the three nearest marines to him who were still engaging Zerg he turned and ran south.
The battalion, with unit cohesion lost due to casualties and the confusion in the tall grass, finally fragmented. Those who could make their way south did, often having to shoot Zerg working their way behind the battalion. The retreat was a free for all, with little order or reason. The Zerg followed relentlessly. More Zerg emerged from the northern tree line, these didn't have the blue markings of the Kulkullan, rather they were a main force Zerg brood, designed to mop up and exploit the Kulkullans success.
Those who couldn't retreat, like Jason Harold, cut off by Zerg and running low on ammunition, threw themselves flat in the tall grass, surrounded by bodies and carnage, and prayed. It was 1100 and the sun was almost finished climbing into the sky. The field was quiet except for the rustling of Zerg through the grass, bodies were splayed out in random patterns, like young children making snow angels, blood leaking from them into the tall grass.