Note: This story, and its two sequels Brain Storm and Brain Dead, were posted between the years 2007 and 2011, when I was in high school. I took them down about a year ago. Now, I'm re-uploading them with new character names (the originals had a lot of crossover character names from Evangelion, which was certainly a choice) and a few new descriptions and tweaks here and there. The end result is, I hope, as bizarre and violent as it was back then.
Chapter 1: Hot Landing
The Raynor's Raiders dropship was accomplishing exactly what it was designed and manufactured to do: drop. On a more specific level, it was dropping through the atmosphere of Tarsonis, former seat of power for the Terran Confederacy. All around it were many more dropships of the same attack force, along with heavier landers carrying armor, walkers, and the supply munitions necessary for an extended operation. Altogether, the invasion force numbered four companies strong-a considerable portion of the Raiders' full firepower.
Private James Meridian sat in his bulky ballistic combat armor with his visor flipped up out of his face and his C14 Impaler rifle butt-down between his feet. He wondered just what the hell he was doing plunging into the atmosphere of this very dead planet, and just why he had signed up in the first place. Being a rebel had held a certain appeal back when the Confederacy was falling apart around his ears, but three years of this, of cold meals and long nights aboard some godforsaken old battlecruiser, had pretty well killed his enthusiasm. No direction, no plan, no way out.
Around him was the rest of his 'team'. In fact, Meridian didn't really know any of them that well when he thought about it.
The red-suited Reaper next to him, Sean McKay, he had worked with on three or four drops before this and felt that he understood the ex-serial killer well enough. The others, though, he didn't know at all. The only other standard Marine on the dropship was Private Houston who was busy reading a letter from his girlfriend across the bay from Meridian.
Next to him was a big Firebat named Jack something or other. Meridian didn't really give a shit what his name was, but he'd just made a pact with Sean to warn each other if they ended up standing next to him in combat to avoid getting caught up in the inevitable fireball explosion. The guy looked unstable and Meridian wanted no part in getting to know him.
The same could be said for the Ghost at the end of the bench. He hadn't asked the redhead's name yet and didn't intend to. He knew nothing about her, but nothing was enough to keep him away; black-ops assassins were trouble, and mercenary black-ops assassins had to be even worse. If Meridian was a betting man, he would put money on her being the reason they were headed down to this rock.
The final person on the dropship was the medic, Hunaker. She had her hair dyed blue and Meridian didn't like her that much. She had been late for the loading of the dropships, and word around the barracks was that she had a reputation for unnecessary amputation. To be perfectly honest, Meridian wasn't terribly thrilled to be going into combat with any of them.
"Fucking bitch!" Houston shouted suddenly, throwing the letter across the cabin.
"What's the matter?" Jack asked, putting his big red hand on the Marine's shoulder, showing that either they'd worked together before or that the Firebat was very friendly.
"She's fucking another guy! That bitch!" Houston exclaimed, now crying.
"It's okay man, I'm sure it's just because you're gone and she craves the touch of another man," Jack reasoned.
Houston pushed him away.
"That level of honesty didn't really help," Sean muttered.
"Well I didn't see you offering any consolation!" Jack countered.
Houston opened his mouth and out came the shriek of metal ripping open, then the fury of a glaive wurm punching through the marine's head in a shower of blood. The dropship slewed off-balance, tumbling through the air towards the ground. A fresh hole in the dropship hull shrieked, the vacuum tearing at the dropship's meagre atmosphere. Meridian could still hear Sean laughing hysterically even over the sound of the howling wind.
The Ghost slid along the wall towards the hole, being the lightest thing in the transport area. Without thinking, Meridian snapped his harness with a surge of electrically-motivated musculature and leapt across the troop bay, grabbing her by the arm. He pulled her back and kicked a crate full of ammo into place to stop the venting of air and stabilize the craft.
"Wow, thanks," she said as she caught her breath. "I owe you one."
Meridian looked at her face. She had a slim night vision monocular over her left eye that made her facial features even more pronounced and beautiful. And the very revealing Ghost armor didn't do anything to stop her sex appeal.
"You could start by telling me your name," Meridian offered meekly for a man in such big armor.
She looked up at him for a moment as if deciding, then said, "My name's Anne. Anne Langley."
"Meridian," he said and shook her hand, dainty in his huge, neo-steel grip. "Uh, Jim Meridian."
"Nice to meet you, Jim," she said, smiling, and Meridian wondered if having a black ops assassin as a friend might not be too bad an idea after all.
"Hate to break it up, but we're landing," Sean said from where he stood next to the ramp.
"Okay, let's rock and roll!" Meridian said and readied his Impaler rifle.
The ramp dropped and a Zergling jumped straight at his face.