"I may be in the minority here but the thought of Heartcutter in a tub of chlorinated water splashing about with some moistened tarts trying to (apparentely) gain some sort of sexual favor in order to procreate truly frightens me. Little Heartcutters....((shivers)) makes Blair witch look like disney."
-Thundercracker
|
| Death from Above: Part 2 | | | Author: | | | IP: | p121.netXXXX | | Date: | 06/03/00 05:06 | | Game Type: | Starcraft | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 0, Max: , Min:
Lifetime Rating for Belt: 5.6667 | | The Overmind was not surprised by the appearance -and disappearance- of a shimmering squadron of Wraiths. Having battled Terrans before, it had anticipated this tactic
and dispatched a number of support units to the colony: Overlords to spot the invisible foe, and Scourges to blow them from the skies. Once the fighters were destroyed,
the Guardians and Mutalisks could safely focus their attention on the Terran ground forces, and tear them apart. As a precaution, a whole new batch of Scourges was
rapidly being bred at the main hive, the Overmind's surprise gift to any of the massive Battlecruisers which might decide to enter the conflict. Every tactic the humans could
come up with, the Overmind would counter. And the Zerg would prevail.
Despite its careful planning, the Overmind was caught off-guard by the sight of a small army of blue-glowing forms among the Terran forces, figures which towered over the
packed ranks of Marines and Firebats. This was not right. This was very wrong. Why were the two great enemies not fighting each other?
The front line of Zerglings were torn apart by the combined fire of the Terran infantry, Goliaths, and the flaming blue death let loose by the line of Protoss Dragoons; the few
who made it through the death zone created by the armor-piercing bullets and high-energy bursts were met by a force of Zealots locked in the depth of their battle rage and
were shredded.
As the Zerglings died, the Overmind shrieked warnings to its surviving children. Guardians and Mutalisks swooped in low over the massive Hydralisk swarm, sending their
own storm of violence against the enemy. The Overlords hid deep within the milling flock, surrounded by dozens of their lesser kin -and enough Scourges to vaporize an
entire fleet of Wraiths. A tremendous roar signalled the arrival of several raging Ultralisks, dispatched from the main nest in great haste to join in the defense.
David watched the Zerg reorganize themselves. He was quietly impressed by the sheer numbers involved; there had to be three hundred or more screaming, slithering
monsters in that horde. He didn't realize he'd said that aloud until someone spoke.
"Three hundred twenty-six, sir." That was the Ghost, Larson. It figured, David thought wryly. With his enhanced vision, Larson had the sharpest eyes of any member of the
force -maybe even better than the Protoss. "I'd say at least thirty Overlords are in the middle of that mess; it's hard to tell through all the fliers. And they're completely
surrounded by Scourges. Anything we send in there is likely to get blown to smithereens before it gets off a shot."
"My thought exactly, Larson." Just what the heck WAS a smithereen, anyway? "Time to call in the big guns, then. Would you do the honors?"
"Gladly."
The Overmind was confident that its force could crush the enemy with little trouble. The key was the Overlords, hidden safely within the flock. No airborne threat could
reach them without being smashed by the Scourges and Mutalisks; no land force could get close enough to harm them without falling before the packed ranks of
Hydralisks and Ultralisks, and the steady ground bombardment of the Guardians was pushing the enemy back, buying time for more young to be hatched and more
warriors to be spawned.
The first indication that the enemy might yet win was a searing column of enormous energy beams, originating from the six Battlecruisers grouped around a Protoss Carrier
that was larger than any two of the Terran warships combined. Zerg fliers died by the score, what was left of their bodies falling upon their slithering brothers below.
Responding to the screaming commands of the Overmind, Scourges flew forth in a wave to destroy the slow-moving ships before they could fire again.
Having moved too far from the detection powers of the Overlords, the Scourges began to fall from the skies, victims of the invisible Wraiths. Mutalisks dove in, shielding the
tiny flying bombs and falling upon the Wraiths as their cloaking systems ran out of power. The Wraiths quickly turned and flew like the wind, with most of the Mutalisks in
heated pursuit. The Scourges proceeded on their way, eager to ravage the enemy. Too late, the Overmind remembered the Protoss Carrier, and the deadly cargo within.
The docking ports of the huge vessel unloaded a storm of destruction upon the Scourges, a lightning-quick force of Interceptors that ripped up the explosive flock with
impunity, too fast to follow. Confused and losing patience, the Scourges slowed, seeking a target. And as they hovered there, the forward laser batteries of the Battleships
opened up, blowing apart the last members of the tattered flock.
Some distance away, the Mutalisks had discovered their own problems. The rocks below were suddenly sprouting Goliaths and Dragoons and packs of Marines, all their
weapons raised skywards. The Wraiths turned to face their pursuers, and vanished from sight again, their ruse of weakness now apparent to the seething Overmind. And
then the Scouts hit, gleaming golden in the light of the suns, and the Mutalisks fell.
With the threat in the air reduced, the massed force of Terrans and Protoss advanced, Zealots and Firebats in the lead, Marines and vehicles behind, spraying the Zerg
forces with every weapon at their disposal. The Hydralisks returned fire, and the Zealots stood against the assault, their shields protecting them and the Terrans in their
midst as more Hydras died from the weapons firing beyond their ranks. Enraged, the Hydralisks shifted to attack the source of their pain. The Overmind knew what was
coming next, but too many Overlords had died for it to warn its children. As the Hydralisks began to fire at the distant army, the Zealots and Firebats advanced underneath
the wave of flying spines and tore into the Zerg line. Everything disintegrated into chaos.
The destruction of the Zerg colony was utter and absolute. The swarming members of the hideous army were dead, their grotesque bodies shredded by machine gun fire
and psionic blades, charred by fiery blasts, and strewn about the battlefield in huge piles. Groups of Goliaths patrolled the site as Marines and Firebats conducted a
cleanup of the pulsing buildings the Zerg had died defending. The bullet-riddled bodies of Hydralisks were everywhere, overshadowed by the gargantuan corpses of dead
Ultralisks and decorated with a series of vile greens, reds, and browns, all that remained of the Zerglings that had supported them. Very little indeed remained of the
Overlords, who had been firsthand witnesses to the sheer power of the Terran battleships; the last living member of the heavily-defended Overlord flock was dying off by
itself, half of its trailing tendrils and a sizeable chunk of its carapace blown to atoms along with the rest of its fellows.
David watched from a low outcropping of rock as his three-squad team assisted in the sterilization of the region; nearby, the Ghost agent Larson was running his
eugenically-enhanced eyes over the piled corpses and the living soldiers walking amongst them. David wondered idly what the man was looking for, but kept his attention
on the gathered ranks of the Protoss warriors -our new allies, David reminded himself with a grim smile- as they were led in a bizarre ritual by the High Templar, Zand'Akull.
The battle had hardly been over when the shadowy presence of the High Templar had appeared before David and informed him that the Protoss forces would be withdrawing
from the firezone. When questioned, Zand'Akull had gone into a bizarre explanation about "the gestalt" and "the battle rage" and "the Ritual of Eteth" and so on; David
hadn't understood more than a few of the mental images and phrases that had been projected into his mind, but who was he to argue with a bunch of twelve-foot warriors
and their deadly spiritual leader?
And so the Protoss warriors were arrayed about Zand'Akull in semicircular fashion, the deep voices of the Zealots joining with the mechanical whispers that served as
voices for their half-dead brothers and sisters within the Dragoon war machines to produce a totally alien hymn. Since the entire chant was being carried out on a purely
telepathic level, it could be "heard" clear across the smoking remnants of the Zerg colony.
A Goliath stomped by on its patrol, and David waved to the pilot, who tilted the walker's guns forward in acknowledgement. A moment later, those guns rang out their song
of death, as a lone Zergling burst from beneath a pile of bodies and attempted to close the distance to its metallic "prey." Without missing a beat or even stopping the
motion of his craft, the pilot blew the puny beast back into the heaped mass of corpses. A moment later, several Firebats rushed to the scene and proceeded to thoroughly
charbroil the bodies. Even through multiple air filters, the stench was overpowering; even Larson backed away from the cheerfully burning mass.
"Is it safe to breathe that stuff?" David asked the covert operative.
Larson nodded. "Unless there was a Defiler in that pile, we're fine."
"And if there WAS a Defiler in there? How would we be then?" The Ghost shrugged.
"Dead, probably. How much longer do you think they'll be at it?" David glanced over at the Protoss.
"How should I know? YOU'RE supposed to be the brains around here."
Wiping an oily smear of Zerg smoke from his rifle, David looked at the various blinking lights on the Ghost's black suit. "Getting anything useful out of those Observers our
groaning buddies dispatched up to the main hive?"
"Nothing much that our satellites weren't picking up, but it IS going to make things easier for the gunnery crews. Once we get this show on the road, that is."
"Hey, if you're in such a hurry, YOU can take it up with the Templar."
Larson looked past David and nodded. "They do look pretty scary, don't they? I guess we can give them another ten minutes or so." Larson closed up several panels on his
suit and checked the display at his wrist. "Suppose we've got time to grab some coffee?"
"Why not? I think the field kitchen's that way."
-Angerhatepainragefuryfear.-
-The children are dead. We are weakened.-
-We are angry.-
-The great enemies are there, near our children. They do not fight each other, they fight us.-
-We are threatened. They must die.-
-They are stong. Our children there are alone.-
-Other children are going there. They will be too late to help our children there.-
-Our children there are many. They may survive the attack.-
-They are cunning. We sense them; they watch us. They learn.-
-They killed the children. They must die.-
-Too many. Too strong. The children cannot fight them all.-
-The secret?-
-The young children sleepgrow. The builder children feed them.-
-We need time. The children must fight for time.-
-The young children will wake. The enemies will die.-
As the many voices of the Overmind considered the situation on Vorda, larvae in green-glowing chambers deep below the surface were cocooned by Drones and immersed
in lakes of thick slime.
Within their tightly-woven pods, the immature Zerg began to mutate rapidly, growing in size and power with each passing minute. Soon, they would emerge to defend the
colony and take revenge for the dead children of the Overmind.
The Overmind watched the events on Vorda, and was pleased.
Across the galactic rim, the Zerg smiled.
|
|
|
|
Home
Forum
Starcraft Tournaments
