Chapter Eight: Beginnings
"This is not the end. This is not even the beginning of the end. But, perhaps, it is an end to the beginning."
Sir Winston Churchill, (1874-1965), British Prime Minister, commenting on the battle of El Alamein
Above Zerg Airspace at Ancient Xel'naga Temple, Aiur
As commanders from both Protoss and Terran forces debated what their next offensive against the Overmind would be, scout forces uncovered the extent of the Overmind's infestation of Aiur.
Observer Scouting Drones, photomapping large areas, uncovered hundreds of fortified, immobile defenses surrounding the Overmind; most of the Spore and Sunken colonies had only been erected in the last twenty-six hours. The primary defenses laid on four large ramps leading to the plateau the Overmind was on. The ramps connected the plateau to four canyons, each one an individual path to each of the four ramps. Along the ridges of the canyons, immobile defenses were set up, while thousands of burrowed minions waited for an attack. Two of the paths to the ramps lead towards the growing southeastern Protoss base, while the other two lay towards the northwestern Terran base.
Upon reviewing the maps the scouts presented them, Praetor Fenix and Commander Raynor recognized the paths and ramps as potential dangers as well as valuable assets. Both the Terran and Protoss bases were set upon ground on level with the Overmind, but the four paths leading to the ramp and the Overmind were deep; ridges towered over the roads, and were easily defended natural defenses. But they were perfect for launching a huge, armored attack against the Zerg.
Fenix, Zeratul, and Raynor decided to present a strategy concerning the roads and the use of an armored attack to the council overseeing operations against the Zerg.
Inside Protoss Nexus, Corinth Province, Aiur
Major General Antony Dura had never been to a war room quite so diverse as the one he was sitting in. Unlike the cold, hard, metallic feeling and appearance of a Command Center, the Protoss Nexus was radiating a sense of genuine warmth. The table in the room was a tad too large for Dura's wiry frame, the chairs too angular, meant for Protoss commanders rather than a human. But all was cozy and well, shielding him for a time of the death and destruction outside.
The Protoss sat on the opposite side, a colorful parade in golden loincloth and robes, contrasting with their green, blue and red pebbled skin. Eyes glowing, they sat there, talking with their minds.
The Protoss had agreed to host a conference on their plan of attack against the Overmind in their headquarters. It was, after all, their planet, and they respectfully played host to the Terrans. Though, they showed remarkable hostilities to their other guest, the Zerg. It was easy to see why: Dura watched a large, revolving holo of Aiur's cities and defenses. Almost all of them were ruined, destroyed in a seemingly unending flood of a Horde, and in the middle of that death was the Overmind, enclosed in a protective shell in the middle of a plateau, with its minions in the Corinth province of Aiur. And surrounding it was hundreds of thousands of Terrans and Protoss, bound to a pact to stop the bloodthirsty Zerg from taking control of the whole galaxy.
Raynor, sitting in the middle with his commanders, was flanked by Dura, a representative from the Umojan Military Defense Forces; on Raynor's left was Commandore Jerry Mathos, an Umojan fleet commander. Other Terran generals from the Raiders were there as well. Dura had never seen so many high ranking officers in one room.
On the other side of a polished, mixture of wood and metal table were the Protoss, silent and enigmatic as usual, not opening their psychic conversations to Humanity. Dura noticed that when the Terrans filed into the golden room, the Protossian eyes all changed from a calm, cool blue to a red, fiery color, signaling a lively discussion ahead.
All of them, Executor and High Templar Tassadar of the Protoss Space Fleets, Prelate Artanis of the Praetorian Guards, Praetor Fenix of the Defense Legions, Praetor Zeratul, envoy for the Dark Templar, and Judicator Prefect Almashi sat with rigid silence, observing the impure, Khaydarin crystal floating in the center of the table, powering the display of their current situation. Tassadar stood up, observing the Terrans.
Tassadar rose.
Welcome, fellow Terrans. I am High Templar Tassadar.
If the Major General could have bet his life on when Tassadar would have smiled, if would have been at his last sentence. Unlike most of the other Protoss commanders, he displayed a genuine sense of happiness to have Terrans fighting as allies, even if he did show it without a mouth. His booming, psionic voice made Dura wince in his mind.
Introductions between the two races were made. Both species spoke slowly, allowing each other to catch one's syllables and dialects, even though the languages of the two species were being translated by odd, glowing contraptions on the Protossian necks. Dura noticed the differences in dialects between Zeratul, the Judicator, and the Templar castes.
Perhaps our species are not so different from the Protoss, Dura thought. Raynor had briefed the generals on Protossian caste systems, which divided each of the tribes into three classes: Templar, the warriors of Aiur, Judicators, the governing councils, and Khalai, workers and builders of the homeworld. Raynor had also briefed them on customs and military wares of their allies, since he had the closest contact with them.
An Executor, like Tassadar, as Dura had learned, was an equivalent to a senior military officer of Terran militaries, a fleet admiral. High Templar was Tassadar's other rank, but was a promotion based on the psionic powers and essence of the mind, rather than on seniority; it was a religious title. Praetor was a general-type title, who commanded legions, an Protossian army composed of five thousand Zealots and supporting equipment. Prelate was a rank below a Praetor, while a Prefect was a political title, an officer who approves and watches over what the Templar caste does for the Conclave, the ruling council for Aiur, composed of elders of the Judicator caste.
Dura had memorized Raynor's briefing word for word, and was to directed to report it to the Umojan Protectorate Government afterwords. Maybe I should be a Prefect like Almashi, he wondered.
"And this is Major General Antony Dura of the Umoja Defense Forces," Raynor said, slapping Dura on the back in a effort to stop him from daydreaming.
Dura forced a smile directed at Raynor as he recalled what he was going to say to the Protoss, standing up and addressing them in a memorized, robotic term.
"The Umojan people and government expresses their gratitude for what the Protoss people have done in an effort to help us stem the tide of the Zerg. We are honored to be fighting in this alliance in...this conflict."
Dura did not want to say 'invasion' knowing better to invoke the fury of Protoss.
And may Adun forgive us if this 'conflict' continues too long, Zeratul said, almost lazily. Almashi flashed her eyes at the ancient Templar, warning him to stay quiet.
Let us begin our conference, Tassadar replied, intervening between the already feuding Judicator and Dark One. He pressed a button on the table, igniting another display, a holo of the Overmind's position. Dura held his breath, and stared at the holo. How could this be? The Overmind laid in its massive shell, directly in the center of a massive plateau. Surrounding it was hundreds of defending structures, and burrowed Zerg. An almost indestructible citadel. But around the plateau laid the Zerg's once invincible defenses: stumps and blasted craters of Hives, Lairs, Sunken colonies, and masses of dead flesh, of Zerg. And the dead Cerebrates.
After the battle to exterminate the Overmind's Cerebrates, the creature had pulled back as many of its minions as it could, but not before an estimated total of 2.2 million Zerg was extinguished under the lead and flame of Terran infantry. Most of the Zerg casualties came after the Cerebrates had been destroyed by the dark psi energies of the Shadow Hunters; the Zerg had simply stopped or run wild, making easy targets for the surviving infantry troops.
But the Overmind's defenses were not what Dura expected: there were too many Zerg and structures, even though thirty or so hours ago, the Overmind's protective shell was only the defending Cerebrates and their broods. Scouts had reported there was fewer than 10,000 Zerg defending the Overmind itself and most Zerg were defending the Cerebrates. Those had been destroyed. But now the plateau bristled with Zerg.
Raynor voiced Dura's question. "Tassadar, what the heck happened? I thought the Overmind...we killed most of its troops in an attack twenty-five hours ago. There's too many Zerg here...there's gotta be something wrong with the holo."
Tassadar shrugged, trying to imitate his human friend. Your surprise is noted, Commander. The only reason that we can come up is that the Zerg spawned their force during the battle against the Cerebrates. Yes, we did slaughter millions of Zerg in that last attack. But you must remember the capacity of the Hatcheries around the Overmind. There are many of them, and Zerg can be spawned at an amazing rate; more so than our ability to call in reinforcements.
Artanis, the young Prelate, spoke up. Commander Raynor, this extent of the Zerg brood is not the only infestation found on our homeworld. The Zerg infest several places when they invade, so if one of their clusters is destroyed, they can rely on others. We saw this on Char, Mar Sara, and Chau Sara. Now on Aiur they have done this. There are several broods in other provinces, along with their Cerebrates: in Antioch, Thessaly, and Lutetia, and they have already established dominance and infested the place. More Zerg are being brought through the warp time-shift void they initially used to travel here.
The Prelate spoke a hint of anger and impatience that Dura had heard from his own teenage son: arrogance masked his words. The Templar must be very young, indeed.
Commandore Jerry Mathos folded his arms on the top of the table and looked at Tassadar in his eyes. "Do you mean to tell me that this Overmind isn't the extent of the bloodsuckers? That we have to destroy more of its 'generals' assuming we can accomplish an impossible task of killing the main organ of the Zerg?"
Your worries are just fleeting shadows, human, and you will not have to interfere with the other Zerg. Praetorian Guard forces are cleaning up the messes. Almashi spoke up for the first time, her higher pitched voice and longer, thinner ropes of hair quivering at the way the human spoke to the Protoss. She did not try to hide her contempt for the 'worthless, warring creatures' at all.
Prelate Artanis, is there something you would like to add? Tassadar said calmly. Dura felt as though Almashi was about to get a nasty surprise.
The young Protoss hesitated before answering. Dura knew that the Prelate belonged to a new tide of Protoss, one generation dynamic compared to the rest, a generation that Tassadar and Fenix were the leaders for. This wave of young Protoss belonged not to any caste or tribe, because they were intermixed; Artanis had a Judicator father and a Khalai mother. Although inter-caste marriage was accepted, only a few Protoss married with the other castes or tribes, feeling more bound to their own tribal heritage and customs. Artanis, Tassadar, and Fenix were the new generation, one to accept change and break the rigor of Khala's Laws, and seek peace with their darker cousins, the Dark Templar.
Artanis was hesitating because he commanded much of the Praetorian Guards, the elite red Ara tribe warriors, from the Judicator caste, who enforced the will of the Conclave. He was also a respected leader of the Templar. In short, he had come to good terms with the Templar and Judicator, and he was reluctant to displease the Prefect.
The Praetorian Guards recently have released all dissident Templar that were opposed to the will of the Conclave, and they have been able to contain the Zerg broods to their original point with heavy casualties. However, we are currently unable to eradicate the broods completely, and furthermore, we will not be able to send these Guard Legions to help in killing the Overmind.
"So do you mean that big speech Aldaris gave us before we surrounded the bloodsucker meant nothing? He promised you Protoss some more guys, and now you mean that he can't send reinforcements?"
Yes, Commander Raynor. There are no more reinforcements. Every legion we have is either at this province or defending other provinces.
"Jesus."
What this means, Protoss and Terran commanders, is that we cannot besiege the Overmind forever. Already the Leviathan Brood in Lutetia is preparing an assault on the Guards Legions there. If they break through our weak defenses, it will be us that will be surrounded, not the Overmind.
Tassadar's grim words brought an unnatural silence to the room.
What must we do? Fenix spoke up, his head encased in a solution of liquid. The Praetor looked pale, because the rest of his body was encased in a cold, metallic shell, and he curiously moved around in an odd manner, head spinning. Similar to the Dragoon exoskeleton, (though it bore no armaments), the robotic suit could be controlled through psionic emissions from the Protossian mind.
Almashi, with her fiery red eyes, spoke: Our strategy is in place. The airborne assault against the Cerebrates to destroy key buildings and surround each Cerebrate and wait for the Fallen Ones to kill if worked the last time. Undoubtedly it will work again, against this infestation. A much bigger task force will be needed, and we now control the air above the Zerg. We will send sorties out to bombard the Overmind with our power. Once the defending structures and Zerg are annihilated, the Overmind will be easy targets for the Hunters. The Conclave and Judicator Aldaris have already approved such mission.
"I don't like it," Raynor said, bluntly, brows furrowed in deep concentration.
May I remind you, human, this is our world, not yours, and furthermore-
Silence, Judicator! Raynor, continue. Tassadar's eyes were now a deep, red-purple. He's pissed, thought Dura. Almashi's hair coils quivered with anger, but she sat still, like a statue.
"Ok, first of all, I've got 10,000 casualties from the last airborne assault. Out of just 17,000 men. You think I've got the manpower to commence this bullshit? I've got no reserves. Umoja is readying an defense against an expected Dominion attack, courtesy of Mengsk. They're not sending reinforcements. I don't have that many troops to launch a bigger operation, and I know you guys don't too."
Raynor cleared his throat before continuing. "Second of all, I've got 175,000 troops now. The Protoss have what, 600,000, here in this base? The Zerg have maybe between 700,000 to 1.5 million guys waiting to bite our asses off. If we kiss, say 'good-bye' and send off thousands of infantry and Zealots, we'll get slaughtered in there. It was pure luck we did what we did to the Cerebrates. And damnit...I don't want to rely on luck again."
The audience was listening closely, although not all with calmness. Almashi looked like she might explode. Zeratul wanted to spill something out; he was hiding something.
So what do you suggest, Commander? The Executor's voice boomed loudly in Dura's mind, making him mentally wince. He was going to have a headache after the meeting.
"Three armored divisions that were supposed to be the reinforcements during the Cerebrate attack are sitting on their asses, gambling their wallets off. They ain't going nowhere without me, and I ain't going nowhere until this mess is cleaned up. I want to launch a frontal assault. My tanks can blast Zerg, while your armor can do the same thing. Praetor Zeratul and I have worked up our own model of what we want to do." He turned about to the Templar. Zeratul had his Cholas hanging limply on the side of his face, unmasking the mouth that wasn't there. Zeratul brought up a map, presented from a bird's eye-view of the battleground.
In the center of the former Xel'naga temple, the Overmind laid, surrounded, in a circle by a growing mass of defenses. Four ramps with roads connected the plateau and the Overmind with the other plateaus, where the Terran and Protoss bases were. It was as if a giant, waterless moat surrounded the Overmind, while four canyons snaked to the castle surrounded by the moat. Like arteries, the ramps lead to four main sunken roads; ridges surrounding both sides of the paths, two going straight towards the Terran base and two towards the Protoss base. A criss-cross of smaller roads that grew from the main paths lead to ramps that connected plateaus to the lower-level roads.
As you can see, Terran forces are north of the Overmind's plateau, which is a former site of a Xel'naga Temple. Protoss forces, where we are standing right now, are southeast of this site. There are four, winding paths that lead to the Overmind: two located near the Terrans and two located here. Commander Raynor and I want to launch a slow, massive offensive with our armor through these paths.
Impossible, Praetor, responded Artanis, These four paths are just the blocking points so Zerg cannot get in and out of the plateau. They have dug themselves in with massive defenses there. Furthermore, the paths are deep; cliffs surround these paths. They are canyons. Are you suggesting we travel along the deepest point of these canyons? It is a death trap.
Zeratul nodded. You are right, Artanis, but we must launch an assault from some point. Both Terran siege tanks and our Reavers work well when massed in groups, against massed units. The Zerg are expecting us to attack from these four paths. They will launch assault after assault on us. But we will be too grouped and less spread out for them to do damage on our units. Meanwhile, infantry and light armor will spread to these smaller paths- Zeratul pointed to smaller paths coming off of the four main roads, -because they will lead to plateau that will enable us to gain access to the Overmind. Soon, the Overmind and the Zerg themselves will by surrounded by a massive ring of our troops. Slowly we will advance, choking off the Overmind's infestation piece by piece, until nothing more is left than the entity itself.
And how do you know that the Zerg will not wear us down, Dark One? They spawn quickly. They will be able to launch assault after assault on us, until all we are is dust in the wind. Almashi clearly didn't like the plan.
Can you not see, servant to the Conclave, that we must do exactly what you just said. Let them wear us down, for they will be worn down as well. We have our fleets. From the four paths we can surround the Overmind until there is no chance to escape. Our artillery will wear the structures and Zerg down, and we will strangle them until the Overmind has only a foothold of territory of our planet left. This is the only way to stop this infestation. This must work, for the future of Aiur and the galaxy is at stake if we do not prevail. Zeratul sat down.
Almashi fell quiet. The other commanders nodded in agreement, as Tassadar, looking at Raynor, nodded once, to commend him for a job well done. Raynor returned the favor.
It seems Zeratul and Raynor's plan has won us all over. We will begin briefing out tacticians and troops in two standard hours. However, we have another matter to deal with. Artanis, do you have the Guards Legion in place at Thracia?
The young Prelate's face fell, and his eyes turned to a sad, azure blue. Yes Executor. Everything is in place there. They are guarding it.
And Zeratul, is the honored Matriarch ready to accept us?
By Adun, she is. I cannot...I cannot comprehend what we are doing. But for our people's sake, it has to be so.
Almashi suddenly looked at Tassadar with a fearful expression. What the hell is going on? Dura wondered.
Tassadar, what are you planning?
Tassadar looked away, to a window facing the Overmind. Ever since this...pestilence came to Aiur and laid waste to our cities, our people, our tradition and heritage, I realized that it is no use to fight here, on Aiur. We would all be massacred. Therefore, I have had Artanis secure a warp gate to the Dark Templar's homeworld, Shakuras.
Leaving this place that the Gods put us in? Are you crazy, Tassadar? This is our world, and we must defend it to the death. Almashi extended her psi blades, smashing a hand on the table with anger. We cannot leave. We must defeat the Zerg here, once and for all.
And bring death to all of our people? We have already said: The Zerg numbers are too great. Even if the Overmind is destroyed, there are still a vast flood of Zerg here. Cerebrates will take control and kill the rest of our people. Do you understand me? There will be no more Protoss left if we stand and fight to the death."
The Conclave will not approve of such matters! Almashi was desperate now.
Dura looked at the two Templar. She's denying it. She doesn't want to go. She just wants to deny the fact that there is no hope for them here.
Fenix made an odd, disapproving sound in his throat. The Conclave. Have you any notion where the Conclave is now, Almashi?
Silence greeted his question.
Half of the elders are dead. The rest are holed up with the remainder of Aldaris and his forces at Ceuta. The Conclave cannot do anything us for anymore.
Tassadar looked at the Protoss in the room, his position on leaving Aiur firm. We will leave in twelve planetary cycles if we are defeated here, sooner if we win. We are not abandoning our world, Children of Aiur, we shall only take a leave. We shall come back with fleets and legions to crush the Zerg, and then rebuild it.
"Well, I guess we'll be going too," Raynor said, nonchalantly. Almashi glared daggers at him, but didn't open her mind, to him to give her opinion of humans.
Began debriefing all units of this coming operation. Let our actions speak now, in due time. Swiftly, Tassadar exited the room. Other Protoss and Terran counselors followed.
As Dura and the other commanders filed out of the Nexus, an aide handed him a holopad. On the screen were all 144 companies that fought against the Cerebrates, along with their statistics of dead, wounded and missing, beginning from the least number of casualties. On the top was Zulu-1. Dura pressed the screen, showing more facts about Company Z. He nodded. Zulu would make an excellent spearheading team for the upcoming assault.
Terran Base Camp, five kilometers from Zerg outer defenses, Aiur
At base camp, northeast of the Overmind's citadel, a mass of milling men and machines, fresh with victory, relaxed. Hundreds upon hundreds of hastily constructed barracks, each holding a full company, spread across the vast Aiuran landscape. Giant hangers, holding damaged starships, starfighters, and other ships of the Terran fleet loomed overhead of the barracks. The Overlord scouting the base noted this.
At intervals, missile turrets stood silent guard against any ambush against the camp, and the perimeter was guarded by a defense of bunkers and tanks. COMSAT stations pinged away for any unwelcomed guests.
Captain Nacdle strode to Zulu's barracks. Many of the squadron commanders that had landed on the Zerg Creep had been promoted because of their impossible feat of helping to staunch a flood of Zerg. Unlike Nacdle though, most commanders did not live to see their promotion.
Nacdle's promotion gave him charge of Z Company's 120 marines. With that command came the duty to train fifty-eight of Zulu's footsoldiers, replacements of the dead marines lost against the Zerg. Most of the replacements were mercs, or other "low quality" troops that had been recruited or paid for service.
At Nacdle's request, the armory officer had equipped the company with light CMC-300 armor and high velocity, heavy spikes instead of the magazine rounds used for the C-14, thinking they might be useful against the next Zerg attack.
First lieutenant Adam Jones looked in disgust as Nacdle barked orders for the marines training.
"Look at him. Fucking merc strolling around like he's a commander." He closed the door, sitting on his bunk with a dejected look.
Second lieutenant Allison Carter looked from his top bunk, lying down and gazing at the dark ceiling. Most marines had taken the break to catch up on some precious sleeping time before having to go through constant exercises and drills Nacdle made them do. His own squadron, Z-1B was put to the test in defending an almost indefensible computer-simulated position as they met attack after attack against artificial intelligence Zerg forces.
"If you two could just duke out your troubles, then you wouldn't have to mind so much about him," Carter said. "I've seen them merc boys fight. They don't go down 'till they've taken a couple Zerg with them. You got me, sir? Let it go."
Jones shook his head. "That guy is up to something. I can feel it. It's not because he's a merc that I hate him...it's because he doesn't act like a shitty-ass merc." Jones pointed outside, where Nacdle was verbally berating a new company member about smoking. "He's different, Nacdle."
Carter resumed trying to sleep. "Let me give you a piece of advice, sir. Get some rest." Jones turned around to look at Carter's back. "It's gonna be a long battle, next time we're out there."
Jones didn't respond, but opened the door and went out. Immediately, he was joined by Nacdle, whose looked calm and composed as usual. "Sir, what's-"
"-our objectives, lieutenant?" Nacdle smiled. It's not the first time he's read my mind, thought Jones.
"Strafing and bombing runs by capital ships and starfighters begin in thirty-six hours. We'll be getting the air support we needed this time. In fifty-six hours, we proceed to path ALFA on foot towards the Overmind. We'll take a fork on the road to a ramp that leads up to a ridge defended by Zerg. Our mission is to destroy any Zerg on that ridge and take that piece of the plateau, and hold it. And no, we won't take part in operations against the Overmind, but we'll see it when it's destroyed."
"No dropships then? What's our support?"
"No dropships, we're walking the distance. We've got two armored companies helping us take the ramp; Zulu-2 and Zulu-3. Two is a squadron of four M-28A4 Goliath Infantry Support Walkers, and three is composed of two M-25A2 Arclite Siege Tanks. Any questions?"
"No sir."
"Good, go and brief the men." Jones didn't salute when he left Nacdle back with his men. Nacdle didn't seem to notice.
Inside COMSAT Station Number 2, nearby Terran encampment, Aiur
The young officer on duty yawned as he looked at the screens for any possible Zerg threat. His job was to set off the alarm if any Zerg were trying to invade the massive Terran base camped northeast of the Overmind. It would be a disaster if the Zerg could wreak any havoc to the base; more the half of the battlecruisers and starfighters were being repaired in hangers inside the encampment. Any large scale attack could seriously damage the ability for the fleet to provide support to the infantry and armor below, not counting also what the Zerg could do to thousands of sleeping men resting after a massive battle.
Sleep, the officer thought, is something I need to get more of. The man had been on duty for the past sixteen hours, since a shortage of officers were on duty. The man resisted closing his eyelids, as a firm hand grabbed his shoulder.
"Colonel! Reporting for duty, sir!" The man got up from his chair and gave a tired salute.
"At ease, officer." The colonel handed the drowsy man another cup of Khaf. "Thank you sir," the officer said, inhaling the rich aroma of beans grown in his native Umoja.
"Anything on the screens?"
"No sir, not for the past sixteen hours I've been on duty." The officer put particular emphasis on the words hours and duty.
"Well, thirty more minutes, and then someone will fill in. Carry on."
"Yessir."
The colonel left the circular, cramped COMSAT station, to the more spacious command center attached to it. Probably to get some sleep, the officer thought bitterly. The officer's eyes half-closed before he snapped them open. Night was already here, and the liquid Khaf only slowed the instinct for sleep. Slowly but steadily, the officer's eyes closed, as the screens began to illuminate with Zerg.
Terran Base Camp, five kilometers from Zerg outer defenses, Aiur
Underground, the silently tunneling, were dozens of Zerg Drones. Possessing a rudimentary intelligence, the Drones were best doing menial, slave-like tasks. One recent research group, funded by the extinct Confederate Marine Corp, suggested that every Zerg warrior was supported by five of the large, dull breed of Drones. This ratio showed how well every warrior, down to each Zergling, was cared for: by Drones who did tasks as providing food and nourishment for the Zerg, gathering resources, and morphing into basic Zerg structures. Tonight, they were tunneling for an ambush.
A hundred feet below, Drones dug with an unnatural fervor, almost as if they were stim-paked marines; with their large front claws, they dug through earth, as Zerglings, hundreds of them, followed behind.
By the time alarms were sounding, it was too late.
Captain Nacdle was already sleeping as Zerglings, shrilly screaming, ran past Zulu's barracks, heading for something else. Groggily, he woke up. Shit, what's going on...he watched as a dozen Zerglings sprinted past his window.
"Mother of...get your guns, get your guns!" He flicked on the lights, waking dozens of sleepy marines as he shouted. Each one voiced his own opinion on the executive officer waking them up in the middle of the night, mumbling curses as they woke.
"What's happening, sir?" Carter ran breathlessly, carrying his heavy rifle.
"We've got company. Zerglings all over the fuckin' base."
"Zerg, sir?"
"Look Carter, get you and your squadron ready, and then head over towards the main hangers. Alert all the squad leaders and get their asses over their quick."
"We're retreating?"
"No goddamit, the Zerg are heading over there." He pointed to his squad. "Let's go."
Marines were waking up to the screeching sirens of an alert, and quickly they grabbed their guns and rushed outside, thinking another drill was on. Sparse groups of infantry witnessed thousands of Zerglings running past them, to the hangers where precious air support for ground troops were docked. At intervals of ten, Zerglings scrambled out of the dozens of holes dug by drones, and scurried into the Terran base.
Protoss base, southwest of the Overmind
At the Protoss camp, photon cannons acting as sentries were overwhelmed at the number of targets heading towards the armor of the Protoss, as Zerglings emerged out of holes out of the ground.
Heavy, mechanical Reavers, off-line, were met with claws of Zerg, as Dragoon exoskeleton suits, lying in rows, were chewed into pieces by voracious beasts. Zealots unsheathed their psi blades, extending them to kill the hundreds of Zerglings that had gotten through. As Zeratul ended the life of one Zergling that was ripping a Reaver's thick armor, he could only think of one word: Ambush. It was the perfect way to disrupt the upcoming assault on the Overmind.
Terran Base Camp, five kilometers from Zerg outer defenses, Aiur
At the Terran base, officers screamed at their men to get up, as other marines outside fired at the wave. Zerglings stumbled and tripped, but a flood of red Zerg approached unhindered to the hangers, unaware of the brethren that had fallen.
Inside, they found the targets they were looking for: rows and rows of Wraith Superiority fighters, each one a dead weapon unable to move as the Zerglings approached. Hundreds of feral claws tore at the ships, fragile metal armor sliced at again and again, until only shreds of fighters remained. Other Zerg disabled engines, tore at cockpits and weaponry, making mechanical skeletons out of ships.
Marines rushed in, some clad in only light fatigues, to witness Zerg exploding tank shells in an armory. A deadly chain reaction followed, as shells on racks implode on each other, sending a massive inferno through the building, consuming man and Zerg alike.
Jones, who was by one hanger, didn't' know how many Zerg he had mowed down when he heard an storm of superheated air rush past his body, knocking him to the ground. Zerglings sprinted past him. They had only one goal in mind: make sure the Terrans stay grounded if they were foolish enough to attack Overmind. The lieutenant looked up, blinking away sweat and blood. Zerglings continued to run past him, as one grinned devilishly at his face.
Obeying orders, second lieutenant Allison Carter led his squad into a hanger bay. Opening the back door, he saw the carcass of a battlecruiser, gutted and destroyed under the machete claws of Zerglings. It was hacked into unrecognizable pieces, engines ripped away, and armor scratched until the frame of the ship was the only thing left.
In the interior, the battlecruiser had a stench of blood mingled with death. Zerglings not only killed the ship, they killed the crew inside of it, as Carter and three men cautiously walked into an egress into the cruiser. Officers were ripped apart in their sleep, crewmembers hacked into pieces. A massacre. Carter felt that familiar feeling of vomit come through his throat.
Overhead the Terran base, a Wraith patrol noted the odd fires seeming to spring alive in their camp; fueling a raging inferno that marked an armory. A firestorm was consuming the base.
Death and Zerg claimed more victims again.