STEEL, SOUL, AND SPIRIT
By
Gregory P. Wong
Chapter 15: The Battle Of Waj Norhal
The Zerg swarms on Waj Norhal had been exterminated. That had been two months ago already, and Dominion commodore Seamus Farrell, the ranking officer of the Waj Norhal military, was beginning to feel bored. After Rear Admiral Simashi Tolaiski had been killed in the final moments of the fighting, he had gained command. Officially, he was an admiral, but he still liked to be identified with the rank "commodore".
He sat aboard his sensor studded command chair, aboard the old Leviathan-class battlecruiser Crimson Dawn. The new Terran Dominion was issuing hand-me-downs to the backwater worlds, all the new Behemoth-class battleships and A-17 Wraiths going to the navy surrounding Korhal. Second-rate equipment was something he was going to have to get used to. Still, the Crimson Dawn was not a bad ship.
After the last Zerg Hive had been razed, he had sent troops to assist in the rebuilding efforts. All one month ago. Seeing nothing interesting on the sensors screens, he sighed and got up from his command chair, intending to retire in his chambers.
"Commodore! I have something coming from the ground!" a technician in light power armor practically screamed out.
Farrell stared at the tech. "What is it?"
"I don't know. It seems... unidentifiable. Nothing that we have ever logged. Protoss or Zerg. Wait! Just in: unidentified aliens have been encountered... Aliens are hostile!"
Farrell felt the adrenaline into his forty-eight year old body. Already, the "fog of war" was setting in. Previously silent units began to clamor for support. Three different accounts of a razed barracks were streaming in. One unit said that they were the only force guarding a sector. One garrison force claimed that a nuclear explosive had destroyed the capital city.
For now, he ignored them. His technicians could filter the useless blather, and give him the noteworthy information. He immediately leaped into action and snapped out commands.
"Put all space assets into red alert. Begin deploying our surface forces. Send the battlecruisers Phoenix and Gargoyle, and the destroyers Fallen Angel, Resartus, and Champion to the surface for ground support."
The Samurai-class destroyers were something that the Waj Norhal scientists had cooked up. The light capital ships looked like miniature battlecruisers, but with an extra wing strut that gave them tremendous speed. Batteries of TurboFalcon missiles gave the destroyer superior ship-to-ship firepower, though its ground-firing Apollo laser batteries were lacking in strength.
Farrell had wondered whether to send the blueprints and schematics to Korhal, but he decided against it. He never really liked Mengsk anyway, and this was his little revenge for being stuck on this backwater planet in the first place. If Mengsk ever found out, he could be found guilty of treason. Ah, so what?
He took a deep breath and settled back into his command chair. Bring it on, ya alien freaks.
Traenid/Esralth jerked in surprise, when a great ball of energy suddenly appeared only a few hundred meters from the Phantasm's side. He/she had teleported back onto his/her flagship.
A Khalai technician turned to him/her. "This new anomaly appears to be congruous to the one on the surface. Will we enter it, Executor?"
"Yes. Withdraw our interceptors, and order all carriers left in the fleet to enter the gate."
"Commencing course change," shouted Deneras from the helm.
"Ten seconds. Brace!" yelled out a Khalai.
Like the first time, the world seemed to turn upside down, but the change was less wrenching than the first. They found themselves orbiting the Terran world of Waj Norhal.
"How many ships accounted for?" He/she asked a technician manning the sensors.
"We have sixteen capital ships on my sensors, Executor. The carrier Star Reaver and the Arbiter Archoleth have been destroyed.
"Damn," muttered Traenid/Esralath. "Order all ships to establish orbit. All available single ships and interceptors are to form a fighter screen. How long until planet crushers are able to be fired again?"
"Two and a half hours, Executor!" rang out another tech.
"We have to hold them until then. Launch interceptors. Arbiters will remain behind the carriers to provide close-in support fire. May Adun smile on us this day..."
Ah! So good to be back at Waj Norhal, thought Szcraa. She barely got the thought out before a darkblade took a many-armed swipe at her. She easily dodged it, and slammed it to the ground with a kick. As the thing struggled to regain its footing, she stabbed down and impaled it. As soon as her scythes were unstuck from the corpse, a group of four stoneblades leaped onto her back. Or tried to. The quartet of Thres'nalop landed on where she had been. Before they had oriented themselves, they were blown out of existence by a torrent of Magna Needles.
She had been among the first of the Gray Shadow Fleet to enter the warp ball. When she had gotten to "the other side", the Thres'nalop had greeted her. Szcraa remembered fighting some time ago on this world, against the Zerg swarms which seemed to come and go as inexorably as the tide. The Thres'nalop were much worse. Not only did they have superior firepower, but they also had intelligence.
As she battled towards the main city, she left a wake of dismembered and flaming carcasses behind her. Suddenly, her sensors screamed out of an impending airstrike. She looked quickly overhead, and saw flight of Wraiths beginning strafing runs. The quick craft fired their burst lasers, then wheeled overhead to begin another run. Ground fire managed to down six of the fifteen Wraiths. The Terran ships began another series of fire, this time with their Gemini missiles, which were normally used for atmospheric dogfights. Another track of Thres'nalop died, but four more fighters were shot down. The five remaining pilots turned tail and headed back south, to the city.
Szcraa made a silent salute to the dead fighter pilots. The brave Terran warriors had not even made a dent in the Thres'nalop ranks, though the creatures were wildly wheeling around, surprised by the new foes.
Skirting the majority of the Thres'nalop forces, she came up to the city. She noticed some strangely shaped mounds of earth dotting the entrance to the city. Frowning to herself, she stopped and engaged full magnification with her sensors. Then she noticed that each mound had slits running along the sides. She smiled.
The Thres'nalop, who had just reached the city gates, dashed past the mounds, not suspecting anything. Suddenly, with a flash of fire and smoke, the Thres'nalop leading the swarm dropped down dead, riddled with bullet holes and crisped by flame. As the Thres'nalop looked around, confused, the bunkers began to engage the alien trespassers. Gauss rifle barrels could be seen firing, and Perdition flamethrowers were getting anything that got too close. Szcraa silently cheered on the Terrans as she raced towards them.
Suddenly, one of the bunkers exploded, its neosteel and concrete armor overwhelmed by the frightening power of a sickle's nuclear cannon. The bunker's occupants, thrown backward and stunned, barely had the time to fire a few shots before the Thres'nalop were on them. With a growl, Szcraa leapt into the massacre, and avenged the fallen Terran marines and firebats. As shot volley after volley at the attackers, she detected a comm link being transmitted to her. Her sensors told her that the battlecruiser Gargoyle was hailing her. She hunkered down behind some debris to receive the message.
"Unit S-214, respond. This is the Captain Dumas of the battlecruiser Gargoyle. Please respond."
She activated her own long-range communications equipment. "Battlecruiser Gargoyle, this is Szc—Unit S-214. Standing by."
"Unit S-214, be advised. A maintenance team has been sent down to you. Rendezvous at point Zeta. Unit—"
"Be advised, Captain Dumas. I will not accept. I escaped your enslavement, and I will not be subjected to it again. I also speak for Unit S-213," she snapped. She was not surprised. They still wanted her and Straas.
"Unit S-214, Override code Theta-Charlie-Iota. You will rally to point Zeta."
Szcraa chuckled dryly. The override codes had long since ceased to mean anything to her. "Captain Dumas, in case you are not aware of it, I am part of the Protoss Gray Shadow Fleet. Therefore, I do not have to do a thing you say. Shut up. Ceasing communication link."
She laughed when she heard a brief splutter of indignation over the communications link. She was just beginning to power down the communications equipment when another transmission was established. Her sensors identified the signal to be coming from the admiral's station aboard the Leviathan-class battlecruiser Crimson Dawn. She argued to herself to whether take it or not. She finally decided to acknowledge the hail.
"Battlecruiser Crimson Dawn, this is Unit S-214. Standing by."
"Unit S-214, this is Commodore Seamus Farrell, commanding officer of the Waj Norhal Defense Force. I took the liberty of monitoring Captain Dumas' communication, and frankly, I do not care if you rejoin us or not.
"What I would request of you is that you act as a liaison to the Protoss forces. Right now, I am disregarding Mengsk's standing orders to attack any and all alien forces, as I am occupied with these new invaders. I would like you to please act as a communication vector, so that I may speak to the... er, Executor of this 'Gray Shadow Fleet.'"
She thought on that for a while. "Make it fast. I will stay in place long enough for a ten-minute period. But no longer. Your troops are hard pressed holding these Thres'nalop back, and I have to help. I will open up a comm link to the Protoss flagship in one minute. Talk fast, sir."
"Protoss commander, do you read me?" asked Farrell over the communications link.
"We read you loud and clear, Commodore Farrell."
Farrell noticed that the voice had a strange quality to it, like it was reverberating and echoing at the same time. The voice itself seemed to be two people talking in perfect unison. He was pretty sure one of the voices had a feminine quality to it. He, er, he/she had transmitted all known information on these "Thres'nalop". Very professional.
"What is the current strength of the Thres'nalop fleet, Executor?"
"We count at least two-hundred and two ships left over from our previous engagements." Farrell's blood ran cold.
"WHAT? Who can we hope to stand up to that? You have a fleet of sixteen capital ships. We have only fourteen battlecruisers and twenty destroyers! How do you propose—"
"I have a plan, Commodore. In two and a half hours, we will unleash our planet-crushing weapons on the Thres'nalop fleet. Our carriers have to protected until then."
"We'll do our best. Our allotted ten minutes is almost up. I'm seven minutes from reaching a position that will allow me to open a direct communication link with you."
"Good luck, Terran." Then the commlink ceased. He sighed, feeling trepidation trickle into his stomach. Then he ordered a fleet wide communication opened to all ships in orbit.
"All ships, we will have to help protect some Protoss carriers for 2.5-plus hours. I don't care how much you don't like the mouthless scalies, but I want Valkyrie frigates, fighters, and assault dropships to form a picket line in between the anomaly and the Protoss ships. All battlecruisers and destroyers will intersperse themselves between the Protoss capital ships. Execute. And give'em hell."
Traenid/Esralath studied the readouts. The Terran fighters and light ships had formed a picket line in front of his/her carriers and Arbiters. He/she had ordered the scouts, Corsairs, assault shuttles, Seraph interceptors, and Strikers to join the Terran light force. Just that moment, the Thres'nalop fleet came through the warp ball.
"125 more minutes, Executor," called out a Khalai. "We also have established direct contact with the Terran flagship. I have opened up a communication link to the battlecruiser Crimson Dawn.
Traenid/Esralath saw the brown haired, green-eyed face of the Terran commander on his screen. He began to speak. "Commodore Farrell, do you have a place for your civilians to relocate to?"
The commodore's face hardened. "No, we don't. Our city has been hit hard. The garrison and security forces there repulsed the scouting parties, but the troopers are now dealing with the main assault force, and I'm not sure we can hold them long enough for my marine corps to evac the civilians."
"My ground forces are arriving through the warp sphere." As he/she was talking, he/she had brought up a map of the area surrounding the city. Suddenly he/she had an idea.
"Commodore, is there any value to this... 'Bone Plain'?"
"Um, no. We tried to expand our farming grounds, but the land was simply too dry to be worth the hassle. Why?"
Traenid/Esralath grinned. "What types of..." he/she tried to remember the word for what he/she wanted. "...artery? Artrey? do you have?"
"Artillery? We have eighty 155mm mobile cannons, and about two hundred older-version Arclite siege tanks with artillery capability."
"This might work Esralath. We do have about one hundred Reavers and about seventy-five High Templars."
" I hope so. Otherwise a lot of humans are going to die."
"Commodore, I have a plan... But we are going to need to gather some more information. We need to know what the Thres'nalop really want here."
Straas had finally gotten to Waj Norhal again, with the Protoss assault forces at his back. As he made his way towards the Terran city, he ripped through the Thres'nalop forces, his cobalt-white flaming scythes cutting a wide swath through the Thres'nalop ranks. As he reached the city gates, he spied a group of Terran marines pinned down behind some rubble by two-dozen noblades. The armored marines were hunkering down behind the wall, rising to fire occasionally. The Thres'nalop were beginning to advance towards where the marines crouched. In moments the insectoids could clamber over the cover and massacre the Terrans. Straas picked up speed until he was nearly on top of the Thres'nalop. Then he leaped.
The noblades didn't even see what hit them. One moment they were hostile enemy forces, the next minute they were a puréed mix of alien body parts. As he swept past the bloody ground, he slowed down and waved to the marines. Two of the marines waved back, though the rest of them were too busy checking their gauss rifles and beating it out of there. The marines had their black visors down, protecting their faces from dust and flying debris... as well as the stench of battle.
He finally came to city gates, where a complex grid of camouflaged bunkers had repulsed a wave of attacks. The missile turrets, normally used against air attackers, had been field-converted so that they could fire at the ground. Twenty Goliath walkers crouched low behind the bunkers, although they stood high enough to allow their autocannons to clear the defensive structures. To add to the impressive array of firepower fifteen old-model tanks were seen, hull down, next to the front line bunkers. Flashes again were seen coming from the bunker firing slots as the Thres'nalop again made another rush towards the gate. A split second later the Goliaths, tanks and missile turrets added their firepower to the mix. The twenty charging stonebades were annihilated in the ensuing conflagration.
Seeing that the Thres'nalop would not be passing the gate anytime soon, he headed towards the next gate. It was a small entrance to the city, only big enough to allow small vehicles and pedestrians to enter the city. As a result of this, the defense surrounding the gate was light, compared to the main gates. But if the Thres'nalop get through here, they can flank the other gate defenders, Straas thought.
He didn't like what he saw. The human defense there consisted of only three bunkers, five Goliaths, and two Vulture hover cycles. A piteously damaged Arclite tank hunkered down next to the bunkers, not able to move on fused tracks. Wreckage of destroyed Terran and Thres'nalop machines was strewn everywhere. A total of seven bunkers had been cracked open by various Thres'nalop weapons, and the eviscerated bodies of Terran marines and firebats were seen scattered over the gate defense area.
As he approached, he flinched as a burst of rifle slugs ricocheted off his carapace. He quickly ducked out of sight behind some rubble, to allow the extremely nervous Terrans to think about what they had shot at. He shifted his arm, and felt a shock of pain reach his neurons. He looked down at his right arm. A small burn on his forearm showed where a Thres'nalop nuclear cannon shot had singed his arm. The burn was healing as he stared at it. While only a superficial burn, the sharp pain it sent out was annoying. He focused his mind back to the matter at hand.
He slowly came back into the Terran's view. He had lowered down his plasma cannons and retracted his scythes. He had also extinguished himself, so as not to appear like a surreal flaming demon.
The Terran defensive weapons remained silent this time, though he noted that the Goliaths' autocannons were tracking him. He made sure he did not make any sudden moves. At fifty meters from the forward bunker, he stopped as an armored figure cautiously exited the pillbox. The marine walked up to him, and punched a button that opened up the armor's black visor. Straas noted that the marine was a female.
The young, green-eyed women looked up at Straas. "I'm Lieutenant Tendra McCuester. You must be the... cyborg... that escaped from her a couple weeks ago, no?" Her rifle was pointed to the side, not in a threatening manner, but one of caution.
Straas called up the personnel file on McCuester, Tendra. Identification number 85-5869-MRNCRP-TNDAMCSTR-108. Joined the marines at age twenty-one, on own free will. No need for neural "resoc", or resocialization. Now age twenty-three. Scottish by descent, if using the old Earth denominations. Height: 163 centimeters tall. Weight: 55 kilograms. Blond hair. Green eyes. Blood type A.
Straas took a deep breath "Yes. I'm Straas, also known as Unit S-213. You people look like you could use a hand."
The Terran woman looked back at the battered gate defense.
"We could. We need to hold out for twenty minutes so reinforcements can reach us." A pause. "Uh, other than that, we could hold out till then, but..."
"Twenty minutes isn't too long. I'll assist in the defense."
"Thanks." She paused. "Sir."
Straas nodded. He jerked as his long-range sensors detected an extremely large Thres'nalop signature. Some of the signatures were moving very fast, showing that a good chunk of the assault force were aircraft and fast moving daggers.
"Get back to the bunkers! We're about to have company!" Straas cried.
McCuester dashed back to the bunker and practically dived in. The bores of gauss rifles poked out from the firing slots, and the Goliaths and Vultures swiveled to face the direction from where the Thres'nalop were advancing from. Any second now, the Thres'nalop aerial forces would be in view. Straas activated his neural targeting system.
Thres'nalop talons came into sight. The needle-thin fighters made a futile dive at the gate, but were knocked away by his plasma cannons, still a kilometer away. Hah. Szcraa would be impressed with that show of sharp shooting, he said to himself.
Then a handful of daggers came zooming in, their heavy spark rifles burning some armor from the bunkers. Autocannon shells from the Goliaths took out one Thres'nalop strike vehicles, and the fragmentation grenades from the Vultures reduced another to scrap. The massed gauss rifle fire from the bunkers claimed two daggers.
Straas completed the slaughter by destroying the remaining seven daggers with a cascade of Needles. He snarled at the wreckage and noted that the rest of the Thres'nalop attack group was only half a kilometer away. He Ignited, and stole a look at the bunkers. The forward bunker with Lieutenant McCuester had some armor plates knocked off, but nothing serious. He got ready for the next wave.
"Picket line has reported contact with Thres'nalop space elements, Commodore!" A tech called out from her station. All heads on the bridge shot up and looked at Farrell for a split-second, before their training brought them back to the attention of their monitors.
"Strength?" he inquired of the technician in charge of the long-range sensors.
"I have two hundred-plus capital ships on scanners. And God knows how many fighters."
As the tech spoke out, Farrell heard a steady hum coming from the left side of the room, where the fighter coordinators were spitting out orders and information rapidly.
"What's the status of the fighters, Protoss and human?"
"The engagement was reported twelve minutes ago. We have lost twelve Wraiths, four Valkyries, and seven assault dropships. Protoss losses: seven scout fighters and ten Corsairs. And a bunch of modified shuttles and robotic thingies."
"Remaining forces?" asked Farrell, dreading the answer
"Um... Working." A long pause. "Five-sixteen Wraiths, eighty-two frigates, sixty dropships, One-oh-one scouts, eighty-eight Corsairs, fifty shuttles, and three hundred robot-things. Thres'nalop ships: three thousand 'talons', thirteen hundred 'Rapiers', nine-fifty 'scabbards', eighty-four 'Scimitars', and one-twenty 'Katanas'."
"At the rate we're losing ships, we have about an hour before the Thres'nlop break through... And that's considering we allow the fighters to take ninety-nine percent casualties," the technician added.
"This definitely isn't good. How much longer until Protoss weapons are recharged?"
"Status of weapons... The Protoss 'planet crushers' will be able to be fired in two hours, two minutes."
"Dammit, there has to be a way to buy some time. If the Thres'nalop take out the carriers, then the entire fleet can make planet fall and kill everyone on the surface."
Farrell thought hard, and then came up with a strategy.
"I want the battlecruisers Iroquois, Medusa's Stare, Azure Thunder, Dominion Star, Pyrethrum, Samuel Kolinski, Lyndon Johnson,and Heart of Korhal, as well as the Crimson Dawn, to engage the Thres'nalop fleet with the fighters. In the vanguard will be the destroyers Tashiba Meru, Headhunter, Damien Moore, Terran Fist, Eric Daniels, Cataphract, Grenshaw, Jade Lighting, Xing Lan, Andrew Jackson, Starmaster and Kaiser."
That left only three battlecruisers, since Gargoyle and Phoenix were assisting on the surface, along with six destroyers to assist the carriers. That left the forces guarding the carriers undermanned, but he needed to assist the fighters in a hope to extend their time a little longer.
"Execute. Give me an ETA."
"ETA: ten minutes until maximum firing range of main batteries."
Commodore Farrell hoped that the strategy would work.
"God help us all. We're gonna need it..."
Szcraa snarled in pain as a spark projectile burned her arm. The fighting had intensified when a large contingent of Protoss troops had joined her on Waj Norhal's soil. She had Ignited, and was causing unbelievable chaos in the middle of the Thres'nalop ranks. Still, the Thres'nalop were not stupid and undertrained; already several burn marks showed on her glowing carapace, along with a large gash on her left arm from a Bloodscythe's claw. Her left plasma cannon had been badly damaged after a group of sickles had managed to strike her with their nuclear cannons, but she had managed to dispatch them. The damaged weapon was slowly repairing itself, though it would take a good fifteen minutes until the cannon came fully online again. She was compensating by using her right plasma cannon quite liberally.
She had accounted for at least four hundred Thres'nalop dead in the last thirty minutes, not counting the myriad vehicles. The wreckage reminded her of how long she had been fighting. Even in her Ignited state, she knew she was weakening. Slowly she began to battle her way towards Protoss lines. In two minutes, she made contact with Protoss forces and was fighting alongside them.
Suddenly, several dozen Thres'nalop in the back ranks were hurled in every direction by an explosion. Using her sensors, she determined from spectrographic analysis of the residue that the explosion had come from a 120mm shell from an Arclite shock cannon. As the bewildered Thres'nalop looked wildly around for what had dared to strike at them, another shell fell among them, scattering a few dozen like leaves under a blower. Szcraa saw that the shells were helping, but not enough. They were falling far too deep in the Thres'nalop lines to be of much help to the embattled Protoss. She had to make a "call for fire" to the siege tanks, to give them coordinates to launch fire at. She opened her comm link, but frowned when she tuned into a Terran command channel. It appeared two Terran outposts were communicating to each other. She decided to listen.
"Geez! Alpha Base! I got something on the computer here!" Came a high voice.
"Repeat Bravo Base. What do you have?" replied a gruff baritone.
"I dunno, Alpha. It looks like something just tried to infiltrate the datafiles in the command center."
"Bravo base, please clarify."
"Er. Some type of crude electronic infiltration just occurred, but the viral scavengers beat them off pretty easily. I think the infiltration was directed towards the star maps. I have no idea what these bugs could have use for 'em."
"Understood. Now cut the chatter. This is a command channel!"
Szcraa cut the connection, and frowned. Why would the Thres'nalop want to get maps of Terran worlds? Then it dawned on her. The Thres'nalop did not want first to exterminate the Protoss, they wanted to gain strength from gaining weak Terran worlds... and Ulreathan could absorb more life force from innocent peoples. She immediately opened up a communications link to the Phantasm.
"Give me the Executor! I have just uncovered something!"
"Who is this?" came the inquiry.
"Cyberlisk Szcraa."
"Understood. Opening link now"
Szcra waited for a few seconds, crouched behind some boulders. She winced as the off-target shells slammed far too distant from the front lines.
"Szcraa. What do you have?" came Executor Traenid/Esralath
"I tapped into a Terran communications. Apparently, the Thres'nalop want first to take Terran worlds, then to move on to Protoss worlds."
"They want Terran worlds?"
"Yes. Terran reported that a crude form of electronic infiltration tried to get into the maps of star systems. And the—"
Szcraa was going to add to that the Thres'nalop were beginning to move on to the cities, but she was cut off by Traenid/Esralath.
"Szcraa! That is it!" Then the communication ceased.
Szcraa had never heard the Gray Archon so excited before. Shaking her head, she opened up a link with the Terran artillery unit, sifting through the channels to get the correct frequency. She activated some datafiles, just in case she needed to use them. She looked up the call sign for the Terran artillery in the immediate sector. She still knew Terran radio discipline. Luckily.
"To... Anvil-Julie-Niner... I have a request for fire! Over."
"This Anvil. Identify yourself. Over."
Szcraa cursed. Her datafiles did not have the full up-to-date call signs.
"Anvil, that really does not matter. Thres'nalop troops are converging on the city, and your shells are falling too far behind Thres'nalop front lines to help the Protoss. I need fire at grid—" She accessed her files, and found the answer in one millisecond "—393 by 645, at vector 98 north. Repeat: grid 393 by 645, at vector 98 north. Please confirm. Over."
There was a pause at the other end, as Anvil chewed over the information. She hoped for this world's sake that he would agree.
The radio crackled.
"Roger Wilco, Unidentified. We will commence bombardment with Variable-Time Impact rounds and Advanced Infantry Cluster Munitions at grid 393 by 645, at vector 98 north. Splash in forty seconds. Take a picture for me, willya? Anvil-Julie-Niner over and out."
Szcraa smiled and entered battle again, as fire began to fall from the sky.
Traenid/Esralath was hurriedly speaking with the Terran commodore, laying out his plan.
"Are you certain this will work?" asked Farrell incredulously.
"If star maps are what the Thres'nalop really want, then I believe so."
"Fine," said the Terran officer in resignation. "I don't see any other alternative, anyway. My units will be in position in thirty minutes."
"Our units better hold them, or all will be lost."
"Yeah, yeah. Anyways, my main regiment of troops just reached the flank of your Protoss warriors. They're gonna try to take out the ones at the warp anomaly, then go hit the back ranks of the alien bastards."
"Good luck," said Traenid/Esralath.
"You too."
Szcraa was slammed backward by a nuclear cannon's power. As she got back up, she noticed that her shoulder was badly burned, while her right leg seemed to have lost quite a bit of the sensors on the thigh. She swore at the sickle that had managed to strike her. Leaping from the ground, she avoided another nuclear cannon attack, and jumped onto the machine. With a swift kick, she shattered the cockpit and slashed the Thres'nalop pilot within it. Figuratively decapitated, the six-legged sickle staggered about before finally slumping to the ground. Ducking under a stoneblades' slash, she whirled around, and planted a clawed foot into its head with a spinning kick. The Thres'nalop warrior dropped.
A zealot was hurled through the air, and impacted the wreckage of a Bloodscythe. A good chunk of armor seemed to be missing from his chest, though there seemed to be no bleeding. Looking slightly dazed, the warrior got back to his feet and again charged the Thres'nalop. To Szcraa's right, a Dragoon lost its front right leg to a spark blast. Immobilized, the cyborg sprawled in place. Despite of the crippling damage, the cybernetic body of the fallen Protoss warrior continued to launch phase disrupter spheres at a furious pace.
Szcraa stole a quick glance around her, and saw that the dwindling number of Protoss were giving a good account of themselves, making the Thres'nalop pay dearly for every dead Protoss. Suddenly, a flurry of explosions sounded off to her far left. Not able to identify the sound, she peered to her left. She got a glance at the thruster end of a trio of Vulture hover cycles as the Terran vehicles peeled away from their strafing runs. As the smoke from the Vulture grenades cleared, she heard the whine of full-auto gauss rifle fire. Szcraa nearly collapsed from relief. An immense column of Terran forces had reached the flank of the Thres'nalop forces. With a cry echoed by the Protoss, the human and Protoss forces dived into the suddenly outnumbered and surrounded Thres'nalop.
Firebats armed with short-range flamethrowers joined the zealots in the melee, while marines crouched down next to the four-legged Dragoons, using Protoss' heavier armor and shields to give a degree of protection to them. Scarabs and Arclite artillery shells began to explode on top of the Thres'nalop lines, while heavily armored Goliath combat walkers fought side by side with Protoss Archons.
Szcraa dove back into fray, and began thrashing any Thres'nalop in her way.
A quartet of steelblades attempted to leap into her face, but with a flash of flaming psi-scythes, they were smoothly divided into four pieces each. A darkblade took a shot at her with its gluon cannon, and ate three Magna Needles for its troubles. More Thres'nalop converged on her, and she dealt with them.
The armored forms of the marines began to slowly advance, lacerating anything within range of their Impaler gauss rifles. Overhead, a flight of newly arrived Wraiths batted down the Thres'nalop talons, then turned their lasers on the ground forces. Within fifteen minutes, the Thres'nalop force surrounding the warp sphere was annihilated. Every last Thres'nalop fought until death, making the Terran and Protoss pay heavily.
When the smoke and dust had cleared, Szcraa looked in dismay over the battlefield. Every last Thres'nalop had been destroyed, but the Terran Marines and the Protoss assault forces had taken heavy casualties. The Protoss forces were down to a bare thirty-five percent efficiency, while the Terrans had taken twenty-percent casualties. Black, red and blue blood stained the ravaged ground. So many bodies were laid out that there were plenty of places where she could have walked without actually touching the ground.
A tone in her head signaled a communications link had been established with her. She opened up the link.
"Unit S-214?" came a deep male voice.
"Yes?"
"I'm Major Franz Hendrickson. Your Protoss commander and Commodore Seamus Farrell have come up with a plan to lure the Thres'nalop away from the city and eliminate them," rumbled the voice on the other end.
"Tell me about it, Major."
The Terran officer explained the proposed plan with her. It seemed preposterous, even to her. And she was willing to try just about anything.
"That's impossible!" she whispered. "We could never lure them away with that."
"I feel the same way. But it's the only thing that can keep the city from being overrun by superior forces. And it might just work, and give us the upper hand against the bugs."
Szcraa sighed. "We have no other choice, it seems. I hope this works."
"Me too," muttered Hendrickson. "Plans have already been laid out and set in motion. The Command Center will be in position in hour. We got to get the troops moving."
As the Terran and Protoss warriors began to move to the staging area, she felt a feeling of trepidation. Something was not going to go as planned...
The last twenty minutes had brought a prodigious number of Thres'nalop literally into Straas' face. The bodies of noblades, steelblades, and several darkblades were scattered over the city gate area, in various conditions of mutilation. Smoking wreckages of sickles and Bloodsycthes burned ominously, sending dark oily smoke into the sky.
However, the defense of the city gate was steep. The horribly damaged Arclite siege tank had been destroyed, along with both of the light Vulture cycles. One Goliath had been destroyed, and the four other combat walkers were damaged.
However, it could have been worse. The occupants of tank had managed to pick their way out of the wreckage of their ruined vehicle. The four damaged Goliaths were still at operating levels. The bunker that had sheltered Lieutenant McCuester had been blasted down to rubble, but miraculously, the bunker's occupants came out alive, though one firebat had to be dragged out, unconscious.
Straas had detected the Terran relief force from twenty miles out, using his mid-range sensors. The force had been steadily chugging along, and was now close, no more than two miles out. The lead elements, presumably Vultures, would be in sight within ten minutes. Straas turned around when he heard some crunching on the ground. Lieutenant Tendra McCuester stomped up to him, her gauss rifle held idly in her right gauntlet.
"Thanks for the help... Straas, right?"
"Yes. It's my duty to protect those with no protection..." he murmured, gesturing towards the city and its defenseless inhabitants. Then he canted his head to the left. He was acting like some mystical poet-warrior lately. He shrugged.
"I detect no Thres'nalop forces within one-hundred fifty miles. The vanguard will be here in seven minutes. I have to assist in other parts of the city."
"Again, thank you Straas. You saved the lives of my men there." She paused, then snapped a smart salute. Normally, that was strictly against military doctrine, since a salute pointed out a commanding officer to enemy snipers, but the Thres'nalop knew nothing of salutes or other Terran customs. And it would have to be one hell of a sniper rifle to even dent him.
"You're welcome. Take care."
With that, he spun on his heel and sprinted off to the next gate, in search of new allies and more enemies.
The powerful burst from Farrell's battlecruiser's Yamato cannons had given the Thres'nalop something to worry about. The volley of nine Yamato bursts had cleared a convenient path through the Thres'nalop squadrons. One Scimitar took the full fury of three Yamato shots, and was disintegrated.
He pulled down his visor on his command suit and sealed it. It was an old habit of his, earning him puzzled looks of some of his subordinates. The actual chance of being subjected to vacuum was very slim, but old habits take a long time to die.
Farrell noted his tactical display. The Crimson Dawn's cameras showed the destroyer Damien Moore opening up on the fighters with TurboFalcon missile batteries. Laser batteries were striking out at the fighters, but they were not needed. The flight of a half-dozen Rapiers were reduced to slag by the volleys of missiles. Minutes later, the other destroyers caught up with the Moore and added their firepower.
"ETA of laser battery range?" He called out.
"T-minus 45 seconds!" Rang back a tech.
There was a moment of tenseness as the distance was closed. Then the console he was looking at blinked out a new message. Targets within range. "OPEN FIRE!" roared Farrell.
The gunners of the battlecruiser began laying down blistering fire, breaking up disorganized Thres'nalop squadrons. Obviously, the Thres'nalop had not been prepared for the Terran move.
"Commodore!" rang out a tech from the Weapons station. "Our Yamato Cannon is recharged, as is the Dominion Star's!"
"Acknowledged," replied Farrell. "Target the Scimitar at vector 43 at coordinates 70-90-12. Tell the Star to fire at the Katana it's escorting, at vector 60 at coordinates 63-102-14"
"Order sent. I think I heard Captain Quintile reciting "Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe" before the link was established."
"Cut the chatter," Farrell said firmly, then chuckled under his breath.
"Yes sir." Then, "Yamato Cannon firing!"
He felt the Dawn shake as the electromagnet-contained nuclear explosion built in front of the battlecruiser, and then was released in a devastating comet of starfire towards the targeted Scimitar. The Thres'nalop warship's hull held against the onslaught for only a few seconds, then the Yamato shot burned a gaping hole into the side of the Thres'nalop ship. The Scimitar listed off to it left, the vented atmosphere from the hole propelling it. Then it slowly stabilized, and began to jet back towards the battle.
Switching the camera view at his command screen, he noted that the larger Katana that the Dominion Star had fired was less affected by the blast, but was still limping towards the rear Thres'nalop ranks, its flank a scorched mess of glowing metal and burning atmosphere. He saw a squadron of bold Wraith fighters maneuvering in and lashing the Thres'nalop's carrier's damaged flank with laser fire and missiles. The Katana suddenly split apart as its engines exploded. The Wraiths got away safely. Looking at the wreckage, He suddenly had an idea.
"Communications! Order the battlecruiser Samuel Kolinski and the destroyers Jade Lightning and Tashiba Meru to hang back. I want the Kolinski to focus all it power, besides scanners and life support, to recharging the Yamato Cannon. We'll dive in and give the Kolinski some pretty targets."
"Message received," reported the woman at Comm. "Commander Yin says 'Good luck'."
A flash, followed by an explosion sounded off to starboard side.
"Commodore! The destroyer Andrew Jackson has been destroyed. Lost with all hands!"
Farrell cursed. One less ship to work with in his plan.
"Acknowledged," he growled. "Order all able ships to form a spearhead. Destroyers surrounding the battlecruisers. Fighters and Valkyries interspersed between the capital ships. Execute."
"All clear!" transmitted Szcraa to the science facility. The floating science facility began to hover towards the bunker complex that had been specially designed for it. The ponderous research structure began to increase power to its hover pods, accelerating it. Everything on the facility was shut down to shunt all its power to hover pads. As the science facility began to advance, its heavy guard force slowly advanced, keeping the ground ahead covered. Szcraa watched as the Terran building slowly receded into the distance.
As the building receded into the distance, she made her way back to the bunker complex. Using her long range optics in conjunction with the bunker's cameras, she tracked the progress of the dwindling science facility. The forces guarding the facility looked wary, as they had been warned what the facility's significance was. All the two- hundred marines were riding Vulture cycles, their gauss rifles and grenade launchers at the ready. Sixty Goliaths tromped along, their autocannons tracking potential ambush sites. A squad of forty tanks rolled along, their turrets tracking left to right every few minutes.
Szcraa watched with tension. Suddenly, as the facility cleared its ninth mile, it was subjected to a murderous barrage of Thres'nalop fire. A cascade of sparks took out two hover pads, bringing the flying building to a halt. Another volley of spark fire destroyed the last two hover pods, causing the science facility to crash to the ground. Since the building had not been flying high, it as intact when it slammed into the rocky soil. Szcraa drew in a breath and didn't let it out.
A fusillade of nuclear cannon fire ripped half the Goliath force apart. The confused Terrans swiveled their cockpits around, but were too slow. Another ten fell to a concentrated volley of heavy spark fire. The Vultures and tanks had finally returned fire, but it too little, too late. A swarm of powerful Bloodsycthes and darkblades swarmed the terrified and confused Terran forces, who were too shocked to actually land a shot on the onrushing Thres'nalop. As the vanguard of the melee forces swarmed the Terrans, some of the Vultures attempted to break away and flee, but a group of Bloodscythes blocked the way. The sickles, daggers, and other Thres'nalop came out of hiding and charged. A darkblade coming from the flank of the Vultures took a swing with four of its meat-hook arms. At the same time, four Bloodsycthes batted away several more Vultures. The Vultures were reduced to junk. Inexplicably, the darkblades looked confused, if that was the right emotion on their alien faces. They kept looking from their claws to the wreckage, and back again. Szcraa felt her mouth arch into a grin.
As if on cue, all the wreckage, body parts, and remaining Terrans vanished in a cloud of blue smoke. The Protoss hallucinations had worked!
Szcraa didn't waste any time. "Open fire!" she roared, and transmitted the signal to the rigged science facility. The fallen building, which had been drained of all data, exploded into an inferno of C-10 induced fire.
She felt the ground shake once as the 155mm artillery tubes began to fire. The thumps became one large earthquake as the Arclite siege tanks opened up as well. She detected an incoming transmission from one of the artillery commanders.
"Heh heh. Rounds on the way. Make sure your recording this. There's a bet on how many the first flight of shells are gonna kill."
She used her sensors to detect how many artillery munitions were heading towards the Thres'nalop.
Thirty. Seventy. One hundred. Three hundred.
Then four hundred fifty-eight.
"Splash..." she muttered with a grin.
The echoes of the falling artillery shells thundered over the plain.
Splash.
The powerful curtain barrage of artillery ravaged the ranks of the shocked and confused Thres'nalop.
Szcraa, along with the marines in earshot, cheered. However, the sheer number of Thres'nalop was too much for the artillery to take out. With a scream heard from eight miles away, the Thres'nalop turned and charged en masse towards the entrenched marines. The troopers tensed, and the Goliaths swiveled, bringing their guns to bear. Vulture riders prepped their grenade launchers, and firebats got ready to unleash their flamethrowers.
Suddenly, Szcraa saw a flurry of blue comets impact into the Thres'nalop, exploding into blue fire and wiping out ten dozen Thres'nalop. As the surviving aliens closed in, a web of crackling, violent lightning tore out of voids in the air and ripped the front Thres'nalop rows to tatters. The Protoss High Templars had unleashed series of devastating psionic storms. Still, the scarabs and lighting strikes only brought a moment respite. Soon, the Protoss Reavers were depleted of scarabs and the Protoss High Templars were drained of psionic energy. The Terran artillery had used the time to shift half their firepower closer to Terran lines, to provide a curtain barrage that cleared away the Thres'nalop that were getting too close.
Szcraa almost yelled in triumph. At least a quarter of the Thres'nalop force had been annihilated, and the aliens had nowhere to go.
If this kept up, it would be an absolute slaughter.
Then a miniature sun composed of dark energies wiped out twenty artillery units.
She looked up, and saw the terrifying, mutated Ulreathan floating high above his army. With another gesture, another dozen Arclite tanks were incinerated by Ulreathan's dark blasts. The marines and Protoss defenders on the ground opened fire at the soaring Blademaster. With a contemptuous wave of his arm, twenty Terran and Protoss fighters were deduced to vapor. The flying ordinance heading towards the Thres'nalop commander were deflected or dissipated two meters from his body.
Szcraa gazed bleakly at the hundred destroyed allies, the growled as she Ignited. With his eyes in a mocking, evil smile, Ulreathan turned his face towards her. With a booming laugh audible from the distance, he raised a hand at Szcraa...
Another thump shook the Crimson Dawn. Farrell muttered an oath, then bellowed "Report!"
"Um...," went a tech with a large bloody gash on his cheek, "we just lost batteries Six and Four. Three, Nine, and Seven are damaged pretty badly, but still operable."
"Dammit. How long until the Protoss cannons recharge?"
"Working," then, "it looks like... one hour."
"How many of our capital ships left. And give me a ratio to Thres'nalop ships." He wasn't sure if he would like the answer. But he still wanted it.
"We lost the cruisers Medusa's Stare, Azure Thunder, Dominion Star,and Heart of Korhal, and destroyers Damien Moore, Terran Fist, Eric Daniels, Cataphract, Grenshaw, Headhunter, and Xing Lan. We have nine capital ships left, against... one hundred fifty-one Thres'nalop capital ships. Half of our fighters are gone."
Each word sounded like a death knell to Farrells ears. More than 16-to-one odds, and the Thres'nalop weapons were superior to Terra weapons. If the odds were reversed, the Terrans would have had a chance.
Another thump, far more violent than the last, slammed Farrell from his seat. Damn! What was that? As he got back to his seat, he felt the extra weight of inertia-induced G.
"Damage report!" And to the helm "Helm! What was that?"
"Sir, we just were hit by a direct blast from a heavy, uh, 'nuclear cannon.' " one of the techs at Damage Control bawled out.
Helm called out, "Sir, we were pushed by the blast and atmosphere leak into Thres'nalop lines. We are being propelled at incredible speeds! I'm firing thrusters to stabilize"
Farrell felt the extra, painful G leak away as the thrusters stabilized the Crimson Dawn.
"Sir!" yelled out one of the Weapons techs. "Yamato Cannon prepped and ready to fire!"
"Acknowledged. Fire at the Scimitar at coordinates 56—"
His words were cut off by a close explosion. A very close explosion.
>Straas! Straas! We need you here! Ulreathan—> Szcraa was cut off.
Straas reared up as if hit by a Bloodsycthe. Quickly, he traced back the transmission back to the source. According to his computers, Szcraa was near a place the Waj Norhal Terrans had labeled "Bone Plain". Seeing that the immediate area around the city gate was clear of Thres'nalop, he dashed at full speed toward Szcraa.
He cleared the ten kilometers separating them in five minutes. In his Ignited state, he blazed like a burning blue-white torch as he closed the gap.
When he reached the outskirts of the plain, he gasped. Terrans and Protoss were embattled against Thres'nalop. Burning artillery units were scattered along the valley walls surrounding Bone Plain. Protoss and Terran defenders locked in close-range combat with the Thres'nalop were being blasted apart every second. Even with the artillery and distance, the Protoss and Terrans would have had a difficult battle. One hundred and fifty various artillery units were still firing, but they were being knocked out every second by...
...Ulreathan.
The transformed Judicator was floating in the sky, hurling black fireballs down on the Terran and Protoss lines. Each of the terrifying blasts of dark energy wiped out dozens of defenders, while returning fire impacted harmlessly meters from Ulreathan's body. Szcraa lay motionless only fourteen meters from him. She was breathing, but unconscious.
Straas felt power surge into his body, and he opened fire with his plasma cannons. His plasma fire rippled on Ulreathan's invisible barrier, and he had to dodge to avoid an incoming blast of dark energy.
"You are foolish, abomination!" bellowed Ulreathan madly as he lowered himself to the ground.
"Am I the abomination here?" retorted Straas in an enraged whisper. "You steal life from sentient beings, and you betrayed your entire species. You are the abomination."
Ulreathan answered him with only a cruel smile. With a smooth motion, Ulreathan drew forth his dark swords.
"I will not bother absorbing your tainted life-force, Straas," said the Supreme Blademaster. "It will be much easier to have your head.
"Then I can absorb the helpless energies of your allies and... your lover."
With a scream of rage, Straas hurled himself at Ulreathan, psi-scyhes outstretched. Effortlessly, Ulreathan dodged. As he swept pass Ulreathan, the Blademaster brought down his swords. Straas pirouetted and blocked one sword, while eluding the second.
Stars exploded into his vision when Ulreathan kicked him in the side of the head with a metal shod foot. Straas felt himself fly several meters until he slammed into the ground. Shaking his head to clear it, he looked up in time to see Ulreathan diving from the sky, intent on spearing him to the ground. He rolled, and the blades missed by a hair. He continued his roll and sprang back up on his feet. He gingerly felt the side of his head; it was sticky with blood.
"Shadow flare!" screamed Ulreathan, and a ball of dark energy impacted onto Straas. He flew again.
He knew he was not powerful enough to ever face Ulreathan down... at least, not Ignited. Feeling a familiar sense of shame, he opened up his mind to the Protoss souls that resided within him.
He got only silence.
Where are you? This is the time I need you the most! He roared in his own mind in frustration. The burning needle of a Shadow Strike burned his left shoulder.
Abruptly a voice answered his. "Straas, there is no need for you to ask anymore. Our power is yours." The voice belonged to Thralen.
"But I don't want your life force! It your—" He was cut of by the voice of Xavan.
"Straas! There is no time for this! We give you this power. You are not Ulreathan for taking it. Defeat him this time, Straas, or no one will be safe ever again. Go, Straas." Then the voice disappeared.
As Straas searched for the ones who could give him the power, Ulreathan delievered anothe devastating kick. As he thumped to the ground again, he still called out to the Protoss souls. Where are you! Please!
Silence.
Still laughing at Straas, Ulreathan turned his back and began to advance on Szcraa's inert form, blasting Terran and Protoss out of the way. As the transformed Protoss began to bend over Szcraa, hands outstretched, he gave in. Calling the power, he went Nova. Nova.
Ulreathan looked back in surprise, and was knocked off his feet by a supercharged plasma blast.
A haunting song seemed to have invaded his mind. A song off... wisdom. The song was in an unknown language, but he understood it.
Along with the impossibly huge power, Straas' mind was flooded with knowledge. The knowledge needed to focus his immense energies into devastating attacks. The knowledge needed to defeat Ulreathan.