Chapter Five: In the Thick of It
"I really have to go...number one."
Jean-Luc Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation and Battlecruiser commander, Starcraft
Aboard the Gantrithor, low orbit over Aiur
Nas'tal, "Injured fighter," Shelik was aboard the massive vessel, Gantrithor, Protector of Aiur, strength of the Conclave, and Explorer of Afar, the grandest of all vessels Khalai craftsman had built. The glowing yellow craft was radiant in the center of the formation, the new flagship of the Homefleet, with dozens of speedy Interceptors surrounding it like bees buzzing from a hive. Unlike her predecessors, the Gantrithor was designed to hold seventy-two fighter-drones, while older versions held only forty-eight.
Shelik was once a Scout pilot, one of the best of his squadron, No.2, who accompanied Executor Tassadar and his famous Expeditionary Fleet in exploring the Terran Koprulu Sector.
He had remembered well the day of his death, and his reincarnation. He was in the thick of it, Scourges plaguing the Gantrithor and other carriers like flies on dead bodies above a Terran Space Platform. He pummeled a formation of Scourge, blasting them with his missiles; but another formation snuck up onto his Scout, tearing up his fighter, along with his left arm and right leg. His last impression was the confused sense of satisfaction and surprise, but no pain. Pain is the last thing to worry about...duty is first.
He awakened in a statis cell, body gone. His head lay there, in the thick fluid that surrounded him, giving him life, and a new soul. Khala crafts people had attached artificial body parts after his reincarnation was complete. Khalai scriptures showed life could be reincarnated, since the Protoss had been not evolved, but had been created by another race. And over the millennias, the Firstborn had developed ways to bring back their dead if their body could be recovered. The resurrected Protoss had a new soul entering in the dead Protossian body, providing it with a guiding spirit.
Shelik took his reincarnation as another chance to serve his homeworld, and volunteered to be a "guider," a veteran Protoss pilots who had been reincarnated to guide Interceptor drones in battle. Although the drones were partly computer guided, Izos had found out that Protoss were much better at controlling drones than computers.
In the fighter control room aboard Gantrithor, rows and rows of Protossian computers, manned by Nas'tal like Shelik, were controlling drones. Through an eyepiece, he could see the Interceptor's point of view, as it buzzed around in space, looking for a target. It was remarkable what the drones were capable of, making up for their relatively low powered energy shots with incredible maneuverability. It was faster than a Mutalisk and equaled a Scourge in flight, though it was limited to a perimeter around its mother carrier, thus limiting its effectiveness.
Shelik used an control stick strapped onto his arm to control the fighter's movements, juking around and around in the dark of space. A Scourge chased it for an target before giving up. Shelik turned his tiny drone around and spit wads of energy into it, exploding its body before it could do any harm.
Commander James Raynor, the human, had described the room as "comical" to Tassadar, because it looked as if the Protoss in the room were swatting flies with their hand, as their control sticks moving in odd angles. Shelik did not find if funny, though he looked in horror at the Terran, who had a moving part below his nose. Raynor had called it his "mouth" as sounds came out of it.
Shelik slowed his drone and pushed a button on the strapped-on machine, firing darts of energy at his target, a Mutalisk. Bits of flesh and carapace exploded off the Mutalisk, as the drone juked out of range of the symboite that the Mutalisk launched. Another drone launched its laser, and blasted the Zerg flyer out of sight, flesh exploding in random directions, pushed by the vacuum of space.
Nice shot, Amees, Shelik said, to the female Protoss "guider" sitting next to him.
Thanks.
Shelik mentally sighed, looking at the bio-matter sensor screen on his computer. Blue were allied ships and fighters, green were Protossian, and red, purple, white, green, and brown were Zerg identified by brood. The space above Aiur was getting crowded. It looks like a gathering of different tribes on Aiur, Shelik thought. He was a member of the Auriga tribe, of the Templar caste, the first Protoss ever to launch sailing vessels on Aiur's seas and space fleets in the galaxy. But now...he was just another Protoss waiting to be massacred by the Zerg.
Only if the Overmind dies, I will die.
Aboard the Hyperion, low orbit over Aiur
The same strategical officer who nervously smoked a cigarette was now frantically looking at a huge display screen in the command room of the Hyperion. STO Jamie Walker was fairly new to the art of war, and had found organization his best job in a battle. His assignment aboard the Hyperion, the command ship, was simple: organize troops, and deal with strategic conditions as the battle unfolds.
It's really unfolding on my ass right now, he thought, looking at the holodisplay. Like Protoss ships, the Hyperion carried specialized equipment that tracked every ship and Zerg to a play-by-play account of the battle, and labeled them different colors; it displayed capital ships, fighters, Zerg, and other space junk on screen, showing where they were to a one-minute accuracy. The battle was getting out of hand on the screen, as Allied ships disappeared and Zerg took the place of their blasted brethren at a faster rate than the ships could kill them.
In a massive diamond shaped formation, forty-four Victory-class, Behemoth-class, and Leviathan-class battlecruisers formed the outline of a rhombus, while sixty carriers, salvaged out of the Protoss Homefleet, First, Second and Third fleets, as well as the Expeditionary fleet, were in the center, protected by the escorts of battlecruisers. They were all that was left of the mighty Protossian ships that safeguarded their homeland. Massive amounts of red were engulfing the sides of the diamond formation, trying to breach it in several places. A swarm of green and blue remained outside the formation; the Wraiths and Protoss Scouts that were used as another line of defense to protect the capital ships. Inside the formation, a "no Zerg" zone had been established; Zerg that had gotten into this zone would be instantly killed, given a first priority target by laser batteries.
In all, at least one hundred and fifty major capital ships were engaged in space, with another two thousand starfighters forming a thinning protective shield. The Zerg had mustered a force of fifty thousand to engage this, excluding Overlords. It meant, Walker had calculated, each pilot had to kill at least ten Zerg excluding Overlords to match one loss of a starfighter. The odds first looked good for the Terran and Protoss fleet. He remembered that the Confederacy had to achieve an impossible ratio of twenty to one during its fall on Tarsonis, and the Confederate Fighter Command had almost five thousand available starfighters. But the Zerg had brought with them three hundred thousand flyers.
But now, Walker could see the gaps of the formation appearing, as repair ships full of SCVs frantically worked to repair damaged 'crusiers and fighters. Two of the remaining four Arbiters were the point-guards in the battle, stationed at the tips of the formation, projecting their gravity-manipulating devices to make ships invisible, not that it mattered as Overlords floated everywhere.
Walker chomped on his cigar and then noticed a bend in the formation. A Leviathan-class battlecruiser, the Abyss, was slowly giving way, as a mountain of Zerg flyers surrounded it, breaching the position. Holy-
"Walker, what's going on?" Raynor looked intently with his unibrow expression, peering at Walker with an aggravated, caffeine induced aggression.
The officer gave a quick salute. "They're all over us sir, there are just too many of them. I didn't expect them to launch any more flyers after we let them chase us out here, but they're not stopping. It looks like they're going to be here until we're all fucking dead. Excuse me sir."
Raynor sighed, rubbing his temples. Six or seven hours into the battle, and we haven't done shit yet to win this. Everything's going wrong. The troops on the ground are going to get slaughtered in the night, the Tango teams can't do crap about it, we're going to die, my gosh, how could it come to this?
Walker could see his commander was under intense pressure. "Uh, no offense sir, but I think you need a bathroom break. I've seen you have way too much Khaf this morning-er-evening."
"You're right, man. I really need to go...number-What the hell is that?"
Raynor pointed to the holo-screen. Walker turned around. The battlecruiser that was under a mountain of Zerg had disappeared.
Twenty feet away, communications officer Jacqueline Andersen watched the formation from the control room of the Hyperion, as it began breaking up.
Andersen watched closely at the holoscreen. One of the Leviathan-class battlecruisers had suddenly disappeared from the screen. Oh god, they've broken through. Immediately, a wave of calls came in from other ships, reporting the death of a battlecruiser.
Low orbit over Aiur
Captain Hal Jansen was the squadron leader of the Storks, 141st air squadron; they were based on the battlecruiser Abyss. His wingmate, Lieutenant Molly Jonstone flew behind him, checking her sensors for an immediate threat. "Immediate" is a key word, right now, he thought. There were thousands of targets, but none of them "immediate."
"Anything on my wings, ace?"
"No sir, nothing at all."
He was at the edge of the giant "bubble" zone, protecting the massive Protoss and Terran warships from the deluge of red, white, green, brown, and purple colored Zerg flyers. He turned to look at the warship he was protecting, watching as Mutalisk flew in all directions, juking out of the way of lasers batteries and spitting acid on the ship's armor. One last shot of acid, and then the ship began to break apart.
The engines were suddenly lit into a massive inferno, spreading through the ship, taking protective NeoSteel armor and metal and everything else with it. The firestorm disappeared, leaving in its wake a fiery inferno of a ship, more than half of it burnt to a crisp. So many men... More Zerg streamed in to the breach, 'lisks followed by Scourge and Overlords, as the shockwave of the exploding ship sent his little fighter tumbling around.
Stabilizing his Wraith, he thumbed his comms. device to another frequency.
"Invincible, we have a battlecruiser exploding, I repeat, we have a battlecruiser going down. Send as many reinforcements as you can, over."
A babble of voices were also reporting the ship's rapid deterioration. Frantic voices calling for God and Protoss to save them, others just screaming excitedly, and so on. Son of a gun..."Molly, we're going in that hell-hole. No way are we letting Zerg into our zone. We'll kill them first." He thrusted his Wraith forward, activating his depleted cloaking energy.
The rest of the Storks followed.
Ander, the Stork member who had helped Nacdle find the dropship, was rapidly heading into the formation of ships, trying to conserve his last remains of fuel as he searched for a replenishment vessel. The Zerg had largely ignored him, seeing juicer targets in the battlecruisers and carriers. When he broke free of Aiur's gravity, he could see a continual stream of Zerg flyers coming to the fleet of ships, a bloodthirsty intensity on their devilish faces. And then he saw the fleets, dozens of massive capital ships under the pressure of thousands of Zerg, and overwhelming fighter squadrons. I'm in the thick of it now...
His comms. device crackled. "Ander, that you? Get your ass over here, we're by the gap in the battlecruisers, and goddamn Zerg are all over the place!"
"Sir?" Ander said, surprised. He had also seen the battlecruiser get blasted by Scourge from the engine section, the most vulnerable part of any ship. Now they were streamingin like children in a mad rush for candy, trying to get to the carriers.
"Sir, I can't get to you right now, my bird's got almost no fuel left. Let me find one and I'll be there, sir,"
"I copy." Behind the Cap's words, Ander could hear his commander's Gemini missiles finding a target, and a sudden scream of a vanquished Mutalisk.
"I need a replenishment vessel right now!" Ander screamed, flicking into a public frequency.
"Calm down, Wraith S2-5, we're coming."
Ander smoothly slid between the cracks of two 'cruisers, and entered the protective bubble the ships were supposed to give to support vessels and Protoss carriers. A R-92 type fuel vessel, loaded down with gas, was coming towards him, a long, narrow bullet-like ship with an "arm," a suction device to connect to a Wraith's or battlecruiser's fuel tanks.
The "arm" grasped the fighter like one of those animal specials Ander had seen on holovision, like a mating ritual. Sick...he thought. It began to fuel his bird. Zerg are going to be flying back to their daddy after I'm through with them...
Aboard the Hyperion
STO Walker muttered profanities under his breath as the battle hologram map on the Hyperion gave him a confusing sense of what belonged where. In one moment, the HQ battlecruiser Invincible was labeled with a red "Inactive" status, meaning it had been evacuated, and another moment, it was gone, signaling it was destroyed, and then it was back to normal again, fighting to close the gap in the formation.
Walker squinted his eyes at the hammer shaped hologram of the 'cruiser, as it flickered off and on. Damn Overlords... he thought.
He knew why the screen was confusing: Overlords had begun clustering and jamming the Hyperion's signals to other ships, disrupting communications and tactics.
"Commander!" Walker shouted, as crewmembers were busy watching the various screens. A blast shook the ship, rocking the ground under Walker's feet, and medics raced past him to carry off the latest casualties to the medical bay. A gunnery officer directed his men to fire on the aft of the ship, as the battlecruiser blasted Zerg. The intensity inside the ship surprised Walker. He wasn't the only one under pressure. As shown remarkably well on my commander's face...Walker thought, as he looked at Raynor.
"Yeah?" Raynor walked over, looking at the screen, as he pulled out a cigarette with a trembling hand.
"Sir, they're jamming us. The Overlords are using their psionic brains to jam our signals and electronics; we can't communicate very well with ships and troops.
"Damnit! Are the ground troops affected by this?"
"Yessir."
On Zerg territory, position H-6
At this moment, Ghost Agent McAllen was running towards Zulu as he frantically tried to figure out what was wrong with his ICD. It didn't patch through with the Hyperion, and he wanted to talk to Raynor about a change of plans concerning the Cerebrates. But the device sent out a warbled signal and died. Damn,
damn, damn...
Aboard the Hyperion
At the aft of the ship Scourge activated the chemical agents in their bodies, and slammed into one of the four Gargantuan engines of the ship, exploding it.
Fire-dropper teams, specifically trained for dealing with ship-fires, snaked a long hose to the damaged section of the ship, as SCVs frantically repaired the damage.
On the bridge, Raynor bit his lips as he helped Walker up on his feet. The Hyperion could run on two out of the four engines, but it reduced the maneuverability to deal with Scourge that plagued it. Besides the damage to the Hyperion, the Death's Head, another important HQ ship, was also badly damaged and couldn't communicate with ground troops on Aiur.
Hyperion filled the airless space with hot lasers, from ATA and ATS gun batteries from the "wings" of the ship. Battlecruisers nearby Hyperion emitted a continual steam of hot light, tearing into Zerg like scissors cutting paper. Zerg Mutalisks exploded, carapace doing nothing to help slow the damage. But the ships were being deluged with the flyers.
"How much longer 'till that Yamoto cannon is recharged?" Raynor asked, hands clasped at the small of his back, like a real battlecruiser commander.
"Few minutes longer sir," a crewman replied.
How long is this going to last? We can't fight here forever. Jesus, the Zerg aren't going anywhere. All we're going to go to is Hell. Thoughts raced blindly through Raynor's mind. He didn't know what to do, except kill Zerg. But they would all die if that kept on going. Zerg aren't going anywhere...
"Jackie, get me a link with Executor Tassadar. We need to talk."
Aboard the Gantrithor
Tassadar was busy with his own thoughts when Raynor called. Unlike Terran vessels, Protoss ships were so heavily automated so that the bridge of a Protossian vessel was very small. An impure Khaydarin crystal powered everything in the bridge, and only a handful crewmembers of the five-hundred man crew stood at duty over various equipment.
Executor, there is a call from the Hyperion. Commander Raynor wishes to speak with you.
Tassadar's booming psionic voice echoed silently through the quiet bridge.
I'll talk to him in my meditation room. He quickly spun his heels on the glowing Protossian deck and left for his cabin, as his Nas'tal pilots began finding more targets from the deluge of Zerg.
Outside, the battle raged on. In the fighter control room, Shelik yelled in agony as his fifth Interceptor was destroyed by a marauding Scourge.
Blood of the gods! The Zerg are getting through!
Calm yourself, Shelik, your Interceptor is being built. Amees said. The female Protoss calmly moved the "control stick" and blasted another Mutalisk that had gotten through. Shelik shook his head. There were too many.
Tassadar entered his room looking at the holo of Raynor in his cabin, his human, bloodshot eyes and smooth face almost devoid of emotion.
"Look man, I've got about one thousand boys out there in Wraiths, and they're all going to die if we can't stop the Zerg. My ships are taking the brunt of the attack, and the Zerg aren't planning to go anytime soon. We can't win this here. The Dark Templar and Ghosts can't get through. They can't do anything. It's time for plan B."
Tassadar sent a psionic message to Raynor.
What is plan B, James?
"I was afraid you would ask me that. Jesus, we should just retreat to the other side of Aiur for now, and regroup. There isn't a whole lotta anything we can do here. Look man, I know you have a thing about 'Protoss Honor' but your honor isn't a whole lotta good when nobody's there to honor you after this battle."
You would abandon the troops on the ground, then? Remember that this is our last chance. We have no more reserves, no place to rebuild our forces. The Zerg can rebuild their armies, and will. Commander, this is our best chance. Our last chance.
Raynor paused for a moment. He's right. Hancock, and all those friends of mine down there fighting their asses while we sit here without another plan. Damn Protoss logic! "What the hell do you want to do?"
Tassadar's eyes narrowed.
Stay here. We must keep fighting, the Zerg will launch an attack soon. And soon, there will be enough of a slim opportunity for the Jashas to strike. I can feel it. The Overmind is afraid. And the Jashas will be there to kill them.
"Boy, that was hopeful. 'Slim opportunity,' huh? Alright man, I'll trust you with this, since you know more about Zeratul than me. Raynor out."
And I hope I am right to do such a thing like this, Tassadar thought.
Low orbit over Aiur
With his bird fueled and armed, Ander pumped his Wraith into full speed into the thick of it, leaving the quiet center of the formation of ships to the raging, massive dogfight outside of it. On the starboard of his fighter, below his cockpit, four motifs of Confederacy starfighters followed by twelve insect-like symbols of Zerg displayed the kills he had. I'm hoping to add a few more today. The Wraith suddenly disappeared as Ander cloaked his fighter, blasting a Zerg with his forward lasers on his wing tips. Gotta get to my squadron.
The Storks were named after a famous Earth-based World War I squadron, whose members included French ace pilots who sent their German counterparts flaming out of the sky. That was then. The new Storks sent Zerg tumbling as interstellar debris across space, efficiently as the old Storks did, though with lasers, missiles, and bombs instead of old-fashioned machine guns. Ander stared dreamily out of his cockpit for a second. Must've been fun, flying with machine guns.
He looked at his HUD. Dozens of targets scrolled by on it, as starfighters juked out of the way of marauding Zerg. Ahead, he could see Scouts engaged in a huge battle against Zerg who were streaming into a gap, while Gemini missiles fired by invisible ships obliterated the Zerg.
"Kill the Overlords, the Overlords!" Ander's communications device crackled, and he looked on his side to see Stork-7 crash his fighter into a group of Zerg, ripping his ship apart, as pieces of hot metal flew randomly in space.
Overlords appeared into the fray, jamming the electronics inside the Terran fighters while detecting cloaked Wraiths and directing flyers to them.
Ander let out a flood of curses as he pulled the trigger, listening to the depressing silence on his comms. device. Arcs of red flame lanced out of his guns, flying into Zerg. They exploded into chunks of meat, like steaks being blasted by a shotgun.
A familiar Wraith, dark in color with a red heart crudely painted on the Wraith's "leg" flew into a group of Overlords, as the starfighter's missile launchers blossomed in deadly fire, blasting the bloated objects into dead floating space junk. It thrusted into a group of Mutalisks chasing a lone Protoss Scout, neatly dissecting Zerg by pricking the wings of the flyers with its lasers, as two other Storks followed in a vee wing formation, lasers ripping away at Mutalisks.
Ander's comms. flickered to life.
"...that you? Get on my left, we need to seal this gap."
"Yessiree, Captain Jansen."
Ander was still awed by his squadron's leader as he rejoined the Storks.
Aboard the Jer'zhul, low orbit over Aiur
The Jer'zhul, "Fury," slowly put the gravity manipulating field in front of it, effectively cloaking dozens of Wraiths and Scouts battling Zerg in the breach. Two other battlecruisers tried close the gap, blasting Zerg with their laser batteries, further depleting the energy needed to recharge the apocalyptic Yamato cannon.
The imbeciles should have called for more reinforcements! Judicator Centurion Tes said. Her red robes were in stark contrast to her mosaic of red and purple dark skin, while her black eyes captured the ancientness of her body, seventy-five junos old. I am too ancient to be doing this, she thought. Tes, although of the red Judicator caste Ara, was not opposed to the rival Akilae Templar tribe, of which Tassadar was born in. Unlike many of her Judicator friends, she had sided with Tassadar when he called for Protoss troops to battle Zerg. Her anger was directed to the Zerg, not of her species. She was only one of the four Judicator-crewed ships to fight with Tassadar; the rest were scattered or destroyed during the Zerg invasion, while the Conclave of Elders decided what to do. Useless bureaucrats. She turned to a crewmember. Begin process of Recalling Homefleet Squadron No. 5 and Terran B squadron, she thought, We need more reinforcements here.
Yes, Centurion.
She watched intently at Phase Disruptor Cannon, the only weapon Arbiters carried, pummel a formation of Zerg flyers. The cannon targeted the Scourge first, but there were too many to stop. A Terran Wraith tried to intervene, but was driven away but pursuing Mutalisks.
How long until the Recall is complete, Bachi?
A few more seconds, Centurion.
A Scourge came in range of the ship, stopped, and exploded on to the aft of the ship, near its four engines. The shields began to give way.
Shields at ten percent, Centurion!
Direct energy from the cannon to Shields, Jax.
That reduces the power of the cannon, Judicator! Bachi gave a furious expression on his face, an example he had learned working with Terrans.
The cannon will not matter anymore if the ship is destroyed, Bachi.
Yes, Judicator. Another Scourge exploded, but this time in a burst of alien ichor from Gemini missiles of a Wraith.
"You should of called for some more reinforcements, man," the twang of the pilot's voice was annoying, and Tes let brief moment of anger pulse through her spine, and then stopped it.
Thank you, Terran, she said quietly, looking through the Arbiter's screen to see two battered squads of fighter clearing out the Zerg, as the Recall "swirl" effect faded in front of her. Hopefully this will help stem the tide of Zerg.
More ships are needed to seal the breach in the formation, she said, watching as trails of missiles hit Zerg. A countdown on a display showed the amount of time until another Recall could be initiated. It was going to be a long time before she could return to Aiur. If there was an Aiur to return to.
Low orbit over Aiur
Ander's fighter was back into action, as he smoothly tore the head off of a Mutalisk with a clean shot from his secondary burst lasers attached to his wing. He rolled his ship clockwise, following his lead, S2-1, or Captain Jansen. Though they were both of the same rank, Ander had no bad feelings against the other Wraith pilot commanding the squadron. Jansen was ten years his senior, and his experience promoted him to be the commander of the Storks, not the rank.
"Attention all units at the breach point. Yamato cannon is to be fired in fifteen seconds; you are advised to stay clear from the blast," said a female voice from the Hyperion.
"Storks, follow me," Jansen said, twisting out of the way of a pursuing Scourge and letting Ander get his fifteenth kill of the day. He thrusted his stick forward, out of the formation and breach, as the massive "Hammer Head" of the Hyperion turned towards the breach. Hundred of Zerg flyers were streaming in, but the Hyperion and two other battlecruisers loosened an inferno of nuclear energy at the swarm of biological flyers, making skeletons of the carapaces, ghosts of killers.
"Woohooo! Nice shot Hyperion!" Ander said. The Storks and Protoss squadrons began pursuing the remaining Zerg flyers, heading back to Aiur.
"What the hell...why are they retreating, sir?" Jonstone's voice sounded both agitated and relieved at the same time.
Jansen looked at the disappearing sun that covered the Overmind's residence on Aiur with darkness. The moon rose, up, providing a small cluster of light.
"They'll be back, after it get dark down there," Jansen said. "Let's get back to a 'cruiser and rest up. We're coming back out here tonight, Storks."