Disclaimer: All vehicles and species etc (anything that comes from Starcraft) are property of Blizzard Inc. and NOT mine … and uh… same as all the other stuff that everybody else puts in their disclaimers.

Hello again, this is CHAPTER 2 of my little series, "Hitting the Beaches". This continues on from Chapter 1 so if you didn't read it you probably won't get much. Once again I want to point out I deviate from traditional "Starcraft" lines, Zerg easy to kill, humans hard, (see chapter 1 preface for reasoning). I don't actually have the manual handy so ill be making up unit designations like the "A-17/G" Wraith or the G-2B Goliath as I go along so bear with me… as before I'm always open to criticism so please give honest opinions. Thanks, R&R

BTW: Chap2. is longer than Chap1. - you've been warned.


Hitting the Beaches

Chapter 2: First Contact

Damn, "Shrike" Winters thought as he watched the leading dropship, Rover One, roll vertical to squeeze through another rocky canyon as the second dropship followed perfectly behind. Right behind the second dropship, Shrike's six very nimble and small A-17/C Wraiths followed through the canyon with relative ease compared to the harrying experience that the pilots of those two colossus flying bathtubs were imposing on themselves. I think I've discovered why they don't put windows on the transports, Winters thought with a chuckle, if those Marines inside had ANY idea of what they were doing… they'd probably have all shot themselves by now.

"You know, I'm aware doctrine says that we're to fly low when making 'hot' landings, to avoid Protoss sensors or Zerg scouts and all that jazz… but don't you think these guys are taking that a little extreme?" Raptor Two, Winter's wingman asked over the radio, as the two transports banked so tightly around a rock face, Shrike was sure the two ships would be missing paint. Do all transport pilots fly like this? No wonder so many go down, it's not the enemy, it's the damn guys they got flying them. Shrike wondered in realization as the eight ships continued to rocket along the ugly, rocky terrain of Mynor VI.


"Twenty clicks to the drop site Sparky, time to start-Jesus! Watch that cliff!" Second Lieutenant "Charlie" Marley cringed in fear as the heavily loaded dropship just barely skimmed the top of another jagged ridge line. But in the left seat, the usually calm Lieutenant John Evans was frantically pounding his computer console in dire effort to take the ship off automatic pilot.

"This is not good, this is not good, the damn thing's locked up, she's not responding to me!" Evans cried, whose comment caused Charlie to look at him in concern as Rover Two's near panicked voice yelped over the radio,

"What the hell you doing up there Sparky? You're going to get us fucking killed here!" Brining himself back under control, Sparky answered back,

"Uh… I think I might have missed a decimal place typing in the maximum flying height for the autopilot… it was supposed to be two meters, but…uh… I'm showing point two meters." Evans replied hesitantly as his co-pilot looked at him in shock, "I don't think that type of number was meant to be used with the terrain following computer… and it's frozen up on me, I can't shut it off…"

"You did WHAT?! " Rover Two replied as the two ships squeezed through another canyon, "Well you better find a way to shut it off, because I'm stuck to your ass, goddamn wingman links I knew they were going to be trouble." Rover Two continued, referring to the brand new software installed into the fleet's dropships, which slaved all other autopilots to the lead ship's computer, supposedly to increase efficiency of low level flying… something to write a memo about, thought Sparky as he continued to play with his computer console, finally resulting in bashing it with his fist.

SCREEE! The sound echoed through the transport's interior as the hull finally made contact with a rock outcropping that the autopilot's radar seemed to have missed. This finally pushed Sparky to option "C". He pulled out his six-inch standard issue knife from his thigh sheath,

"Uh… wait a minute Sparky, that probably isn't such a good id-" Charlie blurted in vain as Evans stabbed the blade into the autopilot console. The reward was a fountain of white hot sparks until the transport's safety mechanisms shut down power the autopilot section of the instrument panel. Immediately the large ship's tail started skidding to the right but Sparky's first action was to yank back on the control coloumn, launching the loaded dropship skyward before standing on the right rudder pedal to swing the transport back on course.

"Mother of Kerrigan! What the hell just happened up there?" Rover Two squawked as he frantically regained control of his ship and moved back towards his leader. The reply was in the typical, poorly placed humour than made Lt. John Evans personality,

"We just made fifty marines lose their breakfast."


To the six Wraiths following behind the large transports, the scene was absolutely hilarious. The radio chatter had almost all six fighter pilots laughing their heads off, but the sudden, erratic maneuvers of the two dropships was like watching a teenager learn to drive a land speeder for the first time and made their sides splits and brought tears to their eyes. In his cramped cockpit, "Shrike" Winters smiled at the ignorant misfortune of the two pilots ahead of him, that'll teach you to trust your computers instead of flying like real men.


Now that the two transports flight paths were stabilized, albeit fifty meters higher than previously, the final kilometers to the drop zone went quickly.

"We're getting close," Charlie said, leaning forward and glaring fiercely into his computer display, "Looks like the source is… two o'clock, one kilometer." Looking to his right Sparky gazed upon a flat clearing amid a few rolling hills. A beam of sunlight hit something, and a metallic glint from the center of the clearing caught his attention. Thumbing his radio,

"Raptor Lead, I have eyes of the beacon, it's in the clearing, two o'clock, so if you wouldn't mind some CAP cover would be nice. Rover Two, follow me once around for a better view."

"Roger that Rover, Raptor flight, break into pairs and execute a lazy orbit around the clearing, altitude one hundred meters." Winter's voice answered back over the radio as Sparky banked into a right turn while looking over the clearing.

"What do you think Rover Two?" Sparky asked.

"Well I'll be damned, looks like we've actually got a decent landing zone for once, whoever set that beacon up knew what we like."

"My thoughts exactly," Sparky smiled, "Winds are light from the north so bring her around once more, ill land on the right, you to the left of the beacon. Sensors showing up nothing else down there so this landing is 'cold'." Hearing the two clicks of acknowledgement of in his headset Sparky swung his tail around and brought his nose into the northerly winds. Pressing four buttons the massive spotlights on the bottom of the dropship lit up, smothering the clearing in white light.

"Gear." Sparky said concentrating on the clearing ahead as his co-pilot made the transport ready to land. Charlie pulled down on the landing gear lever and thumbed another switch which turned the cargo bay red "drop imminent" light to the green "drop now" light. All twenty five Marines and the two Goliath pilots sealed and pressurized their suits and machines.

"Gear down, check four and locked." Charlie responded as the transport vibrated four times.

"Hatches." Sparky said, focused on the landing ground, twenty five meters.

"Rear doors secure but unlocked."

"Thrust vectoring."

"All nozzles ninety degrees down." His copilot answered as Evans gently adjusted his throttles, his transport now hovering and descending at the proper glide slope.

"Interior pressure." Fifteen meters.

"Cabin doors secure and locked, venting cargo bay atmosphere now." Charlie flipped the clear safety cover off a red button and held it down as a muffled hiss could be heard from behind the sealed cockpit doors. "Bay atmosphere equalized, good to land Sparky." Ten meters, Evans thought as he pulled back a bit more on the throttles, bringing his transport down vertically. Five meters, the altimeter displayed.

THUD, the two rear gear touched down first, causing the nose to drop faster than normal and slam into the ground with a heavy vibration.


Captain Arthurs felt the transport at first touch and then slam into the ground before hitting the quick release button on his four point harness. The massive rear doors dropped before he could get out of his seat and gave the Captain his first real view of the Mynor VI's surface. Grabbing his C-14 rifle he quickly ran to the edge of the ramp as the other twenty four Marines seated along the sides of the hollow cargo bay hit their releases, grabbed their rifles and started running down the ramp and onto the rocky surface. Arthurs counted and as soon as he hit twenty four he too ran down to join his Marines in setting up the perimeter. The Marines now out of the way the two Goliaths stored one behind the other at the far end of the bay could finally lumber down the ramp and onto the surface. Arthurs checked the time display on his visor, the entire process has taken three minutes, not bad, he thought. To his right, the second dropship was just touching down, the massive four TitanVII engines blowing rocks and gravel into his men. Turning he could see his men diving into the prone position about twenty meters from their transport, rifles pointed outward. The two large Goliaths lumbered awkwardly on their two legs, their two twenty millimeter chainguns spinning as their top halves rotated independently of the bottom, looking out for targets. The low whump to his right signified the ramp on the second transport dropping and turning once more, Arthurs watched twenty five more Marines run full speed out of the "safety" of the transport and onto the surface, quickly taking up their own perimeter positions. One of the Marines came quickly toward him. The two golden stripes on his suit signified him as a Lieutenant.

"My team is deployed, what now Sir?"


"Rover this is Raptor Lead, nothing on our sensors, everything looks clean." Reported the Wraiths circling several hundred feet overhead. In his cockpit 'Sparky' Evans looked out his canopy a saw no fewer than eight marines on the ground in front of his dropship. To his right he could see a Goliath walking slowly in circles, always rotating so his weapons were facing outwards.

"The perimeter is secure flyboys." Captain Arthurs voice hissed over the radio.

"Well then if you've got your fire and marshmallows ready, we're going to shut down here to save fuel." Sparky answered as he transferred to battery power and Charlie began to shut down the transport's four engines. A few dozen meters to the left, Rover Two was doing the same. As the last engine whined down into silence Evans pulled off his helmet and reclined in his seat.

"Well," he said to his co-pilot, stretching out his legs against the rudder pedals and put his hands behind his head, "things look pretty secure, might as well catch up on some sleep."

"You know," Charlie answered, reclining as well, "I guess I was wrong, this might not have been such a bad tasking after all."


On the ground Captain Arthurs was with Lieutenant Morebery taking their first look at the beacon that had dragged them from the rest of the invasion force and out here into the middle of nowhere. The beacon itself was only about twenty by thirty centimeters, but it was resting on a specialized meter-tall tripod to increase the signal strength to interplanetary distances.

"Standard beacon, C-class, an older model, but it has one mother of a range thanks to this tripod." The Lieutenant said, scanning the device with a portable sensor pad as a pair of Wraiths rocketed by overhead, their engines whining loudly.

"So why the hell didn't the fleet pick up this signal prior to the invasion?" Arthurs questioned.

"Battery is almost dead on it, another twenty four hours and we could have flown right over it and not heard anything. Whoever set it up went to great lengths to make sure they would be found." Morebery said solemnly.

"And almost weren't… so where are they?"

"Well, probably dead, or somewhere else at the-"

"No they're not, someone's nearby." The captain said before turning to a group of marines on the south edge of the perimeter. "Sgt. Clarkins! Take your squad on a patrol, no more than two kilometers from here, report anything out of the ordinary." The marine Sgt. stood up, and with a quick 'yes sir' moved off with four other marines out of the clearing and over the nearest hill. But Lieutenant Morebery was still confused,

"How can you be so sure someone's here? You heard the Wraith's sensor reports just like I did, they said nothings around." Shouldering his rifle, Captain Arthurs leaned over to the beacon and stared fiercely at the small device's thin metal skin.

"Look at it. Look's just like new… a windy planet with nothing but rocks, dirt and gravel and not a trace of dust on it. Something's been cleaning it off and rather recently too. Hmm…" He though still examining the skin, "No unit markings either, usually these display the patch of the unit they came from, in case this is found when the people who set them up aren't, but this one hasn't got anything, not even a serial number." A light scratching sound drew the Captain's attention to his right. Looking around, all he could see was a small rock. Looking again he saw a hole in the dirt right beside the rock; something had just moved it. Something's here, he thought. Brining his rifle off his shoulder he looked even more carefully at the nearby ground. At first there was nothing, then, there, Arthurs thought as he saw a faint pattern in the dirt, almost like a boot tread. Then another one suddenly appeared, to the right of the old one, then another, and another circling around him. At least it's humanoid, Arthurs thought, unless the Zerg wear boots now.


"What is it sir?" Lt. Morebery asked uneasily, storing his sensor pad and taking up his rifle as he watched the Captain grab his. But the officer didn't say anything to answer him. Slowly, Morebery watched the Captain take out his knife with his left hand. By now the Lieutenant was trembling… this was his first combat mission, and now his on-site commander was going crazy. He had only one thing to do. Walking over to relieve the Captain of command he watched, astonished, as the officer suddenly dived to the right, knife hand outstretched and shouting fiercely over marine's intercom channel.


Got you. Arthurs thought as he watched the moving boot prints stop. Not waiting, he shifted his weight and dove towards the prints hoping to stab the intruder through the chest. This is too easy, he thought.


The Lieutenant watched, stunned, as the Captain seemed to fly almost gracefully, and then suddenly drop straight down to the ground with an audible "oof" as if someone had smashed him from above. Instantly the Captain threw himself back onto his feet and had his rifle leveled, leaving his knife on the ground.

"Show yourself!" Captain Arthur's voice boomed through the Lieutenant's helmet as all the other marines and the four Goliaths around the perimeter turned to see what was going on.

"As you wish." An eerily cold voice answered, sending violent shivers down Morebery's spine. He could only watch in shock as the air in front of the Captain shimmered, waved and stretched.


Captain William Arthurs held his rifle tightly as the air in front of him shimmered and stretched until a humanoid a little taller than he was stood before him. The being was obviously in some kind of exo-suit, similar to his own, but smoothed and far more streamlined, and unlike the golden officer bars painted on his suit, the one in front of him bore no markings at all… it was just so… black. Suddenly, the Captain's memory kicked in and he remembered the Armed Forces Orientation Film he had watched in his basic military training, some fifteen years ago. He instantly recognized everything from the Artemis-6 Stealth Suit, to the C-10 Canister Rifle, to the three glowing lights of the ocular implants where a normal person's visor and eyes should have been.

It spoke again in it's eerily cold, surreal voice,

"Ghost reporting."


So how did you like Chapter 2? I know, I know, not enough combat, but don't worry there WILL be action right from the start of Chapter Three, promise. Anyways hope you like my introduction of the Ghost's… If you have any questions about anything ask in the "review" box and I will try to address them in preface for chap3. anyways, back to writing,

Cheers,

-silverphantom