"The thing is, StarCraft > sex."
-WarLeaderJustin
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| Abandoned | | | Author: | | | IP: | spider-tXXXX | | Date: | 01/29/01 07:01 | | Game Type: | Starcraft | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 5, Min: 5
Lifetime Rating for MacBeth44: 4.5000 |  | (Okay, this is my first fic, but, I'm told it isn't bad. I'd really like your opinions, and please, don't be a jerk. It's kinda' slow too, so bare with it. Oh, and if you don't like fanfics, I don't care, so don't give me that crap. Thanks.)
Sweat poured down my forehead, turning my hair into a sticky mass that rested on the top of my head. The sweltering heat was intensified by the insulated interior of the farthest bunker from the command center, only to be further increased by the heavy infantry armor resting on my weary shoulders. It had been a long time since the orders first came for my placement. It was one of the safer posts, but, uncomfortable at best, Hell at worst.
My sweat-slicked eyelids drooped heavily with the lack of sleep associated with the current Protoss raid attempts. Nothing major it seemed, although, command had their panties in a twist about a heavy ‘Toss fleet amassing about 600 clicks southeast of our perimeter. I guess they’re fears were based in reality, but, a soldier who’s half asleep is almost as worthless as a dead one.
Yearning for some action, I walked over to the large slots in the bunkers heavy metal exterior, hoping to see some activity, anything to remove the tired from my bones, if I couldn’t get sleep of course. Staring out of the southeast portal, I exhibited a heavy yawn that brought tears to my eyes, or maybe that was sweat. As I recovered my vision, I took a quick look about the bunker. Hector and Troy were sitting at a small poker table they had smuggled with other supplies, and were dealing yet another hand of Black Jack. They motioned for me to join them and offered a chair, but I declined, sitting was the last thing I needed to do. I looked about for Bill, and, not finding him, figured he must be on the head.
I returned to the slot I had been staring out of before when I heard a heavy metallic thud from the john (toilet). I picked up my gauss rifle and quietly glided to the door that obscured the wash room, as well as contain the smell. Troy and Hector shot me wondering glances, and I gave them the signal to keep quiet. Reaching the stall door, I paused to take a listen of the inside. I didn’t hear a sound, and usually, with the swill they gave us, that was bad. I readied my rifle and launched my heavy boot at the thin metal door.
Bill jumped off of the head and covered his face with his hands in the usual instinctual, protective manner. I let out a relieved sigh, followed by raucous laughter. The others looked at me like I had flipped my lid, maybe I had. Maybe I could use that as an excuse to get outta’ this hell hole. I closed the door after muttering a few apologies to, the still frightened, Bill. I relaxed and let my shoulders slump, resting the weight, uncomfortably, on my head and back.
I turned to tell Hector and Troy that I would be joining them in their game. The words began to pass my lips when I saw the most terrifying thing I had ever witnessed, a six foot ripple appeared before me. I use the word "ripple," ‘cause that’s the only way I can describe it. I knew instantly from my training that we were in the presence of a mighty Dark Templar!
My mind told my body to raise my gun and blast the enemy, but my body went rigid with fear. The other two just stared at me like I was crazy. Again, maybe I was, maybe the lack of sleep had me seeing things. My thoughts were put to rest when I saw another of those "ripples." This time, a thinner on than before, I recognized it as one of those blades they used. I tried to scream for them to duck, or something, but the words failed on my lips. I stared in horror as their heads separated from their bodies with a single stroke from the invisible intruder.
I urged my muscles to do something, fight, anything. They responded by doing the only thing that made sense< my legs carried me through the bunker door and out into the field. I bolted furiously toward the command center, hoping the thing wasn’t as fast as it was deadly. I wanted to turn, fight the fiend, avenge my "friends", but, my legs knew that I wouldn’t win, so they rushed me to home base.
The control tower of the starport stuck up over the horizon. I ran faster than I ever thought possible. The rest of the base appeared over the curve of the alien planet, but, something was wrong. There was a massive Protoss fleet hovering over the command center. Scouts picked off the defending Wraiths with the aid of a few observers, who revealed their location. Fires blazed all throughout the base, the command center would soon be decimated.
The deadly Zealots massacred the few remaining marines. I knew I hadn’t a chance in the melee. I decided to make for… Anywhere but here. I turned regretfully away from my comrades and sprinted to a clearing I remembered from a map I had seen, hoped the alien scum hadn’t already occupied it.
I stopped briefly to catch my breath and shed my armor. After a little heavy breathing and a emptying of my bladder onto my slacks, I set off again for the clearing. As I hurried along the dirt, leaving behind my entire race’s faith in me, I slammed into, what seemed like, a wall. I staggered up from the dust of the planet’s surface, looked about. I saw nothing, I paused, maybe I really was crazy. I began to flee again.
Before I could take a step, I saw it, the thing that had stopped me. I cringed in fear, knowing my death was inevitable. I stared up at what I thought to be the Dark Templar’s face and stared, stupefied. The cloaked figure muttered something in his language, obviously derogatory, and raised his scintillating blade above his head, I prayed…
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