SECTION 0: SQUAD ROSTER
The squad roster of Desert Company 46, Platoon Delta, Squad Three (DC46-Delta-3) is as follows:
Fireteam Alpha:
Sergeant Nicolai Koslov
Pfc. Ivan Malakhov
Private Jethro Lincoln
Private Mikhaillovich Zhukov
Fireteam Beta:
Corporal Sergei Gionta
Pfc. Ivan Petrov
Pfc. Scott Langenbrunner
Private Roadkill Rommel
Fireteam Gamma:
Corporal Mike Tanner
Pfc. Lena Kosovich
Private Zachary Taylor
Private Colin White
Note: Privates Lena and Colin weren't mentioned before because the were added to the squad after there own squad (Desert Company 46, Platoon Delta, Squad One) was decimated in their first skirmish with the Zerg.
SECTION 1: LINKING UP
The APC's chassis shook and rattled around the squad. They were going high speed over rough terrain. Everyone was busy, cleaning their weapons and reloading their spent clips. It was a difficult operation, considering each clip held a hundred rounds, and the APC was bucking like a bronco. The soldiers cursed quietly whenever a bullet or rifle was knocked out of their hand.
Ivan looked around. This APC was mostly the same as their last one, with some differences. Next to the electronics and equipment that separated the driver section and the cargo area, was a platform right under a hatch on the APC ceiling. Ivan realised it was for a roof gunner. This APC was also unarmed, but unlike the old APC, it didn't come out of the factory that way. It originally had two machineguns mounted on the side, and a large, 40-mm cannon on the roof. Zerglings had ripped the guns off in a skirmish, however, leaving the APC vulnerable.
"Hey, driver, what's our ETA?" called Koslov.
The driver swiveled around in his seat. "Hang on, I'm getting a transmission." He turned back to the radio. "Repeat that! Something's wrong with the radio, I can barely hear you!"
"Meet static at 10 miles static of meeting point. static Zerg everywhere, hurry it up!"
"What direction?"
"North!"
"Yes, sir!"
"ETA?" Koslov repeated.
"Twelve minutes!"
"Get ready, soldiers. Mikhail, you good to fight?"
"Yes, sir."
Ivan looked out the right-side window and saw another APC racing across the wasteland. It was in bad shape, and the hull was pocked with claw marks and bullet holes. It was painted with Desert Company 46 insignia.
"Hey, Sergeant! There's another APC out here. Looks like one of ours."
"Driver, what tags are you getting from that APC?"
"Which one? There's at least twelve."
"All of 'em."
"Looks like a mixed unit. Soldiers from Company 46, the survivors of 43, and some from the 41st."
"Really?" Koslov drawled.
"Looks like the whole thing is led by Captain. There's probably a little more than a company of soldiers, a lot of people are riding on top of the APC's."
"Well, I guess we aren't fighting this battle alone!" Ivan shouted, and some of the soldiers cheered.
An alarm blared in the APC cockpit. The driver got on the radio. "Drivers, I don't see anything but dirt! What the hell is going on out there!"
A crackling voice came over the radio. "We got a big swarm of those little ones, the, uh, the Zerglings. They're hiding there movements by kicking up a big ol' dust storm."
"Orders?" The driver was getting nervous.
"We're gonna punch right through 'em! Does your cruiser have any guns?"
"No, they got ripped off in a skirmish."
The APC's were getting awfully close to the dust cloud.
"Well, then," the voice on the radio said, "you just get behind Specialist Harrell, that would be me, and watch out."
"60 meters to the cloud!" Koslov yelled, now in the APC's copilot seat. There was a series of loud thumping noises outside.
"Damn, those APC's are firing!" Scott yelled, awed by the power of the 40-mm guns.
"About to hit Zerg lines…" the driver called. The rumbling and bucking of the APC became more pronounced. "Contact!" Loud clanging noises came from outside.
"What the hell is that!" Ivan shouted.
"Zerglings are hittin' us! The little dumbasses are trying to bite through our armor!"
Ivan peered out the left-side window. The other APC's were firing their machineguns, mowing down Zerglings, but more kept coming. Zerglings who survived the gunfire and wheels of the APCs ran with them, easily matching the 45 mph of the APCs. One Zergling noticed the window Ivan was looking through, and apparently thought it was an open whole. It jumped, flattened its body, and rammed the window. Cracks formed in the thick glass, but it held, and the Zerg dropped away, dazed. Ivan laughed a little, but more Zerglings tried the same tactic, and the window cracked and almost gave.
"Damn! Scott, cover this window!"
Private Lincoln yelled "They're trying to break this one, too."
Koslov called back: "Fireteam Beta, cover the left window. Fireteam Gamma, cover the other one. Malakhov, get on the roof with your SAW and cover the rear. Mikhail, help him." The soldiers scrambled into action, like a well-tuned machine. Malakhov was standing on the gunner's platform, firing bursts at targets of opportunity. Fireteams Beta and Gamma covered the windows, everyone making sure they had a clean shot. Finally, an alien broke through the left-side window, headfirst, it's limbs tucked in under it. It was dead before it hit the floor, because of Gionta's precision firing. More of them tried to scrabble in, however. Seconds after the first Zerg broke in, the right-side window burst inwards, spraying Fireteam Gamma with glass.
For a time, they held all of the enemy at bay. However, the magazine's of most of the soldiers ran dry at the same time. As they struggled to reload, hampered by pressure from the enemy and the shaking of the APC, several Zerglings managed to make it through the window. Ivan, driven by fear and adrenaline, finally managed to load a fresh clip, and killed nearly all of the Zerglings with a succession of quick bursts.
All but one. That one rushed at Private Zachary Taylor, who was still struggling to reload his rifle. In a flash of claws and teeth, the monster disemboweled Zachary. He screamed and went into shock. Lena Kosovich fired a shot into the back of the Zergling's head, killing it. The soldiers wanted to tend to Zach, but the windows still weren't secure.
"Jet!" Ivan yelled. "Take care of Taylor!"
Jet Lincoln ran over and did what he could, which was essentially just comforting the private until the end. When Zach stopped shaking, he looked up at Ivan and blinked back tears. "He's dead, sir."
"Damn it!" Ivan vented his anger and pain on a Zergling, bringing it down with a trio of shots, just as it was jumping to the window.
Then they were out of the dust cloud, and there wasn't a Zergling in sight, only four APC's, each looking a little worse for wear.
Koslov stepped into the cargo area and saw Zachary's corpse. "Goddamn it!" he shouted.
SECTION 2: THE JOURNAL OF PRIVATE FIRST CLASS IVAN PETROV
Broke though enemy lines, reached D-C's 48 and 49 and Jim raynor's "desert rats".
Buried zach's body. He didn't deserve it, he was just a kid (I won't lie to you by saying I wish it were me, I'm glad to be among the living). Everyone's on edge, even scott. He shouldn't have died, it was our fault, poor fire discipline. The zerg are gonna pay, big time. Jet's pretty torn up about it, apparently they went through basic together.
Communications have been out since yesterday, something wrong with the Comsats. We've been using field radios, but the long range ones are pretty scarce, usually around one per company. That's limiting battlefield awareness, although we have plenty of line-of-sight radios, so we can still figure out bits and pieces, and where we need to be. Mostly.
Our new driver, Specialist Todd Arnold, is pretty good. He isn't Driver though…
We're getting' ready to attack what we think is a zerg base. We had to drive up a cliff, took a long time b/c the APC is messed up. Raynor sent ahead 10 scouts, only three came back, and one of them died on the spot. Said something about this weird, fleshy goo creepin across the ground. Freakin' gross. They spotted five swarms of the little zergs, and a huge thing. They couldn't describe it, only that they think it's what the goo is coming from. We've got the aforementioned companies (48th, 49th, raynor's), plus two mixed units. One is the reformed D-C 46 (that's me), which has remnants from the 43rd and 41st, and the other is the reformed 45th, which was reinforced by the 44th. They got ambushed in the desert like we did, lots of fights like that, all across Mar Sara.
Hang on a second.
Okay, we've got a go ahead. The 46th and the Desert Rats are leading the assault. Til next time.
Peace
Ivan.
SECTION 3: THE CREEP
Ivan looked out the bloody hole where window used to be. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, meaning heavy winds and high heat. The squad of hoverbikes was having trouble keeping a V formation. The wind kept blowing them towards the APC, and the hoverbike riders had to struggle to stop a collision.
"ETA?" Koslov called.
"Three minutes!" shouted Todd Arnold.
"Check your weapons!"
Everyone checked their weapons again. For the greens, this would be their first base assault. Even the veterans looked a little worried. They'd stormed the bases of small, disorganised bands of rebels and militias, but never from an army of monsters that seemed unlimited in their numbers.
"I see it!" shouted the driver. Everyone craned their necks to focus on it.
Ivan could almost make it out, when his head snapped forward. "What the hell, why'd you stop!" Ivan shouted.
"I didn't. That weird crap on the ground stopped us."
Koslov laughed bitterly. "Huh, looks like we're hoofin' it, Colonials. Open the hatch, Todd."
The driver complied and got on the radio. "This is Specialist Arnold, all drivers be advised, that creepy stuff on the ground cannot be driven on. I'm not sure if we could walk on it, either…"
The entire squad had stopped at the ramp, looked at the grey goo. It churned, and it smelled disgusting.
Scott joked, "I hope Roadkill doesn't hurl again."
Koslov allowed a small smile, and said, "Lang, that was so funny that you get to be the one that tries to walk on this stuff first."
Roadkill laughed.
"Shut up, bastard." He looked a little pale. After some goading, he took a tentative step off the ramp. The goo sucked his foot but held him up. "Whadya know!" He stepped off with the other foot. Scott walked around and slipped. It took him a second to get back up. "It's good! Takes a little getting used to, but it's like walking on a waterbed."
The rest of the squad stepped out onto the stuff. It was apparently covered by a strong, thin membrane. It was slippery. Ivan was actually having some fun, skating around, reminiscing about ice hockey back at his birthplace, the Hiberstag Colony.
"Oh, hell…" Roadkill said, looking past the APC.
"What, you gonna puke?"
"No, look." He pointed, and a wave of goo was coming.
"Oh, hell…" Ivan muttered, and braced himself. The wave lifted him up, and made him crash back down. He managed to keep most of his balance, and fell to one knee. Most of the Hiberstag natives fared just as well, but everyone else fell flat on their backs. Ivan helped up Roadkill. He then looked at the wave. It reached the end of the goo… and kept going for a few meters. The goo surrounded a dead tree. With a great creaking noise, the tree shuddered… and then fell to the earth and was slowly swallowed up through the membrane.
"Damn! Koslov! This stuff is acidic or something. I think the APC's in trouble!"
"Todd! Specialist Arnold!" Koslov yelled over the radio.
"Yeah?"
"Put your tank in full reverse, pronto! This stuff could hurt it, we just saw it eat through a tree!"
"Damn! I'm going!"
The APC shuddered to life and started backing up. It went slowly, but steadily.
"Arnold, close up your hatch, and find a way back to the main force!"
"On my way, sir!"
"Lt. Hacker, come in! What are your orders!"
"Hang on…" Hacker got off the line for a minute. "Keep advancing. We'll join you in a second!"
"Squad, move it!"
The hoverbike squad came roaring into sight. The hoverbikes circled them, and the sergeant rode up.
"You boys need a lift?"
"Sure do, sir." Koslov said. He hopped onto the bitch seat of the bike. The other bikes swooped in and picked up the other soldiers.
SECTION 4: STRIKING BACK
"Alright, soldiers." Koslov yelled over the squad radio channel. "We're gonna open this can of worms. The main force will back us up within five minutes of contact. So don't do nothing stupid, just sit tight, cover each other, and take out targets of opportunity."
Ivan's hoverbike roared up a big hill of the crap, as the squad had taken to calling it, and a big thing came into sight. It was big and orange, like the Zerglings, and its base was surrounded by green, radioactive-looking sludge. It had many pores and one big opening, and the crap was creeping out of each of them. Every few seconds it tightened and released, and a wave of the creep rippled away from it. Around it were several swarms of Zerglings. Ivan estimated that there were around five hundred Zerglings per swarm.
"Soldier," called back the pilot of the hoverbike. "Be a gunner. We're gonna roll right through a swarm of these bastards. Ready?"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Let's go!" The hoverbikes reached the crown of the hill and roared over it. They went high into the and fell towards the earth. Ivan felt his stomach drop out. They were nosediving right into a swarm of the bastards. "Fire, fire, fire!" shouted the pilot. Ivan switched to full auto and started firing at the Zerg, spraying many. The pilot aimed right towards a cluster of Zerg, and thumbed the small, red button on his throttle. A grenade hurtled toward the tight pack, and blew them away in an explosion of blood and chitin. The fragments of chitin killed other Zerglings. As the hoverbike leveled out, Ivan saw that the swarm was decimated.
"Alright, good job. I remember saying something about not doing anything stupid," the sergeant drawled over the radio, "But, hey, we rocked 'em. Let's do it again."
"Sir, yes, sir!"
Soon after that, the main force backed them up, trudged through the Creep for a mile. The remaining Zerglings were defeated, bringing an end to the first decisive Colonial victory. They used the main cannons on the APC's to blow up the giant Creep thing, and the day's work was done for Squad DC46-Delta-3.
SECTION 5: IVAN PETROV'S JOURNAL; OUTSIDE THE CANYON
Spirits are up today, because of yesterday's ass kicking and name taking. If felt good, not being on the run. I hope the trend continues. We reached wasteland base bravo, and rescued a bunch of personnel and civies. We were reinforced by two battalions of marines, and six companies of firebats. Largest amount of soldiers I seen in one place at one time. We also rescued two salvage and construction crews. They attached new guns to the APC in less than an hour.
We would have given Zach Taylor a proper wake, but duty called. Apparently, we got a transmission from some factory, in the east, on the other side of this damn canyon.
There was a big firefight an hour ago, at least ten Zerg swarms ambushed us, but it wasn't that hard to put 'em down. It's a good thing they have to get up close to kill us, we can mess 'em up from long distance. Them Zerglings would be easy prey, if there weren't so damn many of 'em.
We're currently descending into the canyon. Most of the squad is inside the APC, but Tanner, Mikhail and Roadkill are on the roof, along with squad DC46-Delta-4.
Hang on, we're entering a dead forest. I hear something.
war
SECTION 6: NEW ZERG/THE CANYON
Roadkill sat near the turret of the APC, trying to hide from the sun. He looked to the front of the APC. There was a dead forest. The APC entered it, crushing a path for the rest of the company to follow. A few minutes later, they were deep in the forest. Roadkill couldn't see crap, because of the wide trunks and numerous branches, and the sweat pouring down his face, stinging his eyes. He heard a noise, like a man hocking a giant loogie, coming from the left of the APC. He turned around to look, sluggish from heat exhaustion. There was silence for a while, and Roadkill wondered if he was delirious. Then, he heard a spitting sound, and the head of the man next to him exploded.
"…The hell?" was all he could say, until he heard more spitting, and people around him started dropping, chunks of flesh taken out of them. Roadkill flung himself flat on his back, trying to hide behind his fallen comrades.
Corporal Tanner yelled at him. "Roadkill, fire your weapon before I shoot you myself!" Tanner himself switched to full auto and started spraying into the forest. The APC's machineguns also opened fire, their recoil shaking Roadkill.
Roadkill rolled onto his stomach, and propped his rifle on a body. He couldn't see anything, so he aimed for the noises of his enemy: hocking, spitting, and deep, unearthly growls. He heard a spit and saw a jet of green. He aimed right for its source and fired. He was pretty sure he hit it.
He took this opportunity to look around. The jet of green had splashed into the body he was using for cover. It took a large chunk out of it. Roadkill saw something like a nail or spine sticking out of the wound. The green stuff was eating away, through flesh, bone, and steel. Roadkill realised it was acid, and that there was a lot of it on the roof, eating its way through.
"Oh, damn." Roadkill saw that, of the eighteen men who were originally on the roof, six were still fighting, and ten were dead for sure. Roadkill grabbed one of the possibly-alive casualties, and dragged him to the roof hatch, which Malakhov was now occupying, firing away. Roadkill dropped as he saw a volley of spines come his way. They clanged off of the armor of the APC, but the acid stuck and started eating away at the hull. "Malakhov!"
"Keep your head down, Private!"
"Malakhov, take him!" He pushed the casualty towards the hatch. Malakhov dropped the SAW and grabbed the casualty, easing him down the hatch. "Tell the Sarge that these bastards are spitting acid, and its eating through the armor!" Malakhov disappeared, and Roadkill heard shouting going on inside. Seconds later, Sergei Gionta, expert sniper, poked his head out the hatch. He grabbed Malakhov's machinegun and dropped it down the hatch.
"How is it going, Private?" He pulled out his sniper rifle, and popped the lid off of it's scope.
"Not bad. You?" More spines came in and Roadkill put a hand on his helmet, to keep it from falling off, and was immediately sorry for it. A burning sensation shot through his hand, and he quickly ditched his helmet and wiped the hand on a corpse. He watched his helmet melt and turn to slag, imagining how close his head had been to going with it.
"I'm just fine. Another day in the Colonial Infantry." Sergei put his eye to the rifle's scope, and started tracking back and forth.
"You can say that again." Roadkill returned fire against a volley of spines, and reloaded.
"Another day in the Colonial Infantry. 280 Degrees, 80 feet!" The main cannon of the APC swiveled around and fired. Roadkill looked and saw an explosion of wood, carapace, flesh, and blood. "264 Degrees, 50 feet!" The cannon twitched and fired again. Another explosion, and a piece of wood hit Roadkill in the head.
When he came to, he heard almost no spitting or gunfire. He saw that the debris from the explosion was still settling, so he must only have been unconscious for a few seconds. "How long was I out?"
"You were out?" Tanner asked. Roadkill jumped, and Tanner started laughing.
"No targets visible. Hang on." Gionta said, and pulled himself onto the roof. He scoped the area that was hidden by the turret. "No targets. All clear." Sergei cleaned the scope of his rifle and pressed the lid over it. He helped Mikhail up and slung his rifle. Two members of Squad 4 stood up. They were the only survivors.
Koslov looked out the hatch. "Tanner, Roadkill, Gionta, Zhukov, get off the roof. You Squad 4 guys, too." He peered into the darkness of the APC. "Petrov, Langenbrunner, Kosovich, Malakhov, get on the roof."
Ivan was shocked at what he saw. Fourteen bodies. Fourteen soldiers killed in less than five minutes. It had been a long time since he had seen casualties like this. "Lang, help me straighten the bodies. And watch out for the green stuff."
Down below, Koslov got on the radio. "Status check, DC-46-Delta-3, anyone out there?"
"Sergeant Koslov, this is Akita. What the hell is going on?"
"We were ambushed, sir, by some new aliens. These guys have a long range attack. It can eat through armor, sir."
"What do these bastards look like?"
"Um, hang on." Koslov handed a headset to Sergei.
"This is Corporal Sergei Gionta, sir. He is our sniper, and got the best look at these things."
"Go ahead."
"Well, sir…" Gionta cleared his throat. "They have faces like human skulls, except that the jaws are split in half. They have a big ridge on top of there head, and it flexes when they spit. They move on a fleshy, snakelike body. They have two arms, which end in blades. They spit spines and acid. When they fire, you can see a jet of green shooting form their mouth to their target. Within minutes, about twenty of these things killed at least forty soldiers."
There was a long pause. "Thank you, Corporal. Stay strong, and hand me back to Sergeant Koslov."
"Yes, sir."
Up above, Ivan was busy collecting dog tags. The skin was searing off his hands, but he clamped down on the pain. The dead soldiers deserved to have their families notified, at least. Ivan would take a little pain to provide them with that service.
"Petrov, what do we do with the bodies?" Malakhov asked him.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, under this hot sun and anything, they're gonna rot pretty quick. And we don't have time to bury them."
Ivan thought for a moment. "We burn 'em. Ask Koslov for permission, and try to find out what our orders are."
"Sure thing." Malakhov jumped down the hatch. While he was gone, Ivan lined up the bodies, with the help of Scott and Lena. A minute later, Malakhov climbed back up, looking disgruntled.
"What is it?"
"We can't burn the bodies, we have to move."
"So what do we do with 'em?"
Malakhov answered by kicking a corpse off the roof.
"That's harsh." Ivan sighed. "Orders are orders." They quickly removed all the bodies, and watched them get crushed under the giant wheels of the APC behind them. "So, what are our orders, anyways?"
"The rest of the companies are moving to get to the factory. Our company is splitting into patrols and making sure the canyon is secure."
"Great."
Over the next few hours, the squad had nothing to do but watch the sunset and the column of APCs, heading towards the pass that would take them to the factory. Everyone was fidgety, especially those on the roof. They all imagined the way a spine would feel, tearing through muscle and viscera, shattering bone, the acid eating away at flesh. Even Koslov looked tense. Nothing happened until after night had fallen.
Ivan heard a hocking noise, yelled "Incoming!", and everyone scrambled into action. The soldiers on top of the APC threw themselves down, and aimed down their sights towards the direction of the noise. Ivan was tense, and he tightened his grip on the rifle. He heard the spitting noises and grimaced. He opened fire. His muzzle flash and tracers blinded him, but he kept firing, along with the rest of his fireteam. Seconds later, the spitting and gunfire stopped. Ivan was relieved.
"Anyone hit?" he shouted. Everyone said they were fine. The hatch popped open, and Private White's head poked out.
"Get down here, quick!"
Everyone jumped down the hatch, and saw the rest of the squad circled around a radio. He heard gunfire and explosions.
"What's going on?"
Colin filled him in. "The Zerg apparently took the factory and fortified their positions around it. Scouts reported around ten Zergling swarms, and two Hydralisk. Also, the ground is covered in Creep for miles. It's limiting mobility."
"Are we gonna help them?" He distinctly heard the noise of claws on metal, and screaming.
"No. Our soldiers are breaking through. They're hurting, though."
A silence settled over the squad. They listened for news of the battle.
They heard some chatter. "There it is! There's the factory!" "What the hell did they do to it?"
Jim Raynor's voice came in. "I don't know, but whatever it is, it ain't natural. Burn it, boys."
They heard some enormous explosions, and they saw the north sky light up. A second later, a shockwave rumbled through. Another fireball appeared in the sky, this one from space, not the ground.
"What the hell is that!" Roadkill asked.
"It is… the command ship of General Duke, Norad II." Todd answered him.
"What the hell is it doing on a planet like Mar Sara!"
"What's going on!"
The squad descended into chaos, until Koslov got their attention by shouting "Shut the hell up, scheisse-koffs!"
They listened to the radio. General Duke told Raynor to stand down, and told him he was under arrest. Raynor shouted at him, and Duke cut him off.
"DC46-Delta, do you read?" Cpt. Akita's voice came through.
"Yes, sir." Lt. Hacker's voice replied.
"Stand down, and lay low. We're trying to avoid being arrested."
"Yes, sir. You boys hear that?" Three voices answered in the affirmative. "Turn off all your engines and lights, and sleep in shifts. If the Zerg come, fight or run. If it's Duke's forces, surrender."
"Understood."
Ivan slept fitfully throughout the night. He was given the last shift. As he watched the sun rise, he heard the radio crackle. He jumped down the hatch and picked up the receiver.
"Sgt. Koslov?" Lt. Hacker asked over the radio.
"He's asleep. Would you like me to get him?"
"Yes, Private. And get ready to mobilise."
"Okay, hang on." He looked at the squad. They were still asleep. Ivan decided to be an asshole. He started slamming the butt of his rifle against the hull, and yelled "Rise and shine! Time to wake up, friends!"
The squad jerked awake and started hurling insults at him. He handed the receiver to a scowling Sergeant Koslov.
"Yeah?" Koslov grunted. "I mean, yes, sir?"
"We are evacuating offworld. Get to Evacuation Point Delta, yesterday. Understood?"
"Yes, sir!" He put down the receiver. "You heard the man, Todd, get this pig moving!"
The APC rumbled to life, and ground a path through the forest, heading north. As it reached the scorched land of last nights battle, pocked with blast craters and funeral pyres, it was joined by a dozen other APCs.
Within a day, some of them would make it offworld.
So, how was that? Review it, please. The button's right over there. Press it. Go ahead. You don't even need to sign in.
Laters.