Like a force of nature, the Zerg hordes rush at extreme speeds towards the tightly packed mass of UED ships. Seeking to overrun the Terran fleet, the horde fills almost all of the visible dark void and gives the coldness of space an animalistic appearance. A moving, unrelenting wave that seeks to destroy all that opposes it. If atmosphere existed in space, it would be filled with the piercing screams and cries of the Zerg as they move towards the outer picket line of the UED. Thousands of Zergs from the bomb-like scourges to the newly encountered grotesque devourers flow like an unrelenting tide towards the Terran ships with only one single though on their collective minds: Assimilate, Eradicate and Evolve.
On the leading edge of the UED fleet, three squadrons of missile frigates, known as Valkyries await the coming of the horde and are the first group of UED ships to come under attack. Arranged in a line abreast formation so that their firepower can be massed into the most amount of space, the crews of thirty-six frigates wait impatiently. Their primary job will be to try and bloody the Zerg up. Kill as many of them as they can while trying to disrupt their advance in the hopes of buying the fleet precious time to prepare. Once done, they fall back to support the main fleet. That is the plan but as with all plans, it involves the enemy doing what you want them to do. As such, the opening battle does not go as anticipated. Despite the massive wall of firepower arrayed against them, the Zerg mindlessly continue to close with the picket line. Single-mindedly ignoring the threat of massive losses to the missile frigates and seeking instead to by-pass the pickets and take the battle into the heart of the Terran fleet.
Calls for squadron commanders flood the channels as crews send their readiness reports while their ships move into attack formation. Final reports are sent as the wall of steel prepares to stand-fast against the coming Zerg. The groups intend to engage the Zerg at maximum range and pound them all the way in. All along the line drawn in space, gunners wait impatiently as the ranges on their targeting systems marches down.
Commander Eugene Triggs aboard Viper 1 is the overall commander of the UED picket group. His voice fills the group channel as his forces prepare to fire. "Steady boys," he says with his usual southern drawl. "Squadron commanders, you know your areas of responsibility. We need to take as many of them out as we can before breaking contact, understand?" A chorus of voices spring forth from the comm as the leaders respond. "Get ready," he says. "Because here they come."
"Steady," says Triggs tightly as he draws out the word. "Almost in range... steady... steady..."
"OPEN FIRE!!"
Almost as one, thirty-six frigates open up on the approaching Zerg. Like the tentacles of a Portuguese Man-O-War, missile trails erupt all along the line of ships; engulfing the forward wave of Zergs. Plasma trails emitted from the launched missiles fill the void of space and even in the vacuum, the roar of missiles can still be heard. So intense is the opening barrage that the forward wave of Zergs simply disappears in white-hot explosions. Hundreds of Zerg are slaughtered in the first volley alone. Space ahead of the valkyries is filled with the frozen blood and bodies of blasted Zerg so much that space itself appears to change from black to red. Despite the incredibly massive losses suffered in the first volley alone, the Zerg still continue unabated to close with the picket line until they are on the verge of colliding into the UED's formations. Missile fire ripples out from the line and Zergs die by the hundreds yet they still ignore their losses and keep closing. The comm is filled with the curses of the crews as they fire mercilessly into the savage approaching mass. Radio discipline breaks down as the screams of anger fill the airwaves.
“Die you mothers! Die!” screams the gunner of Raider 3 as she lets loose another volley of missiles that explode right in the center of a Zerg mass. The explosion heated bio matter, which is instantly converted into frozen clouds of red matter that fills the blast-saturated area. Despite the raw fury of the missile barrages, the Zerg still continue to advance.
“Damnmit! Why won’t they stop?” screams the commander of Raider 10. “We’ve laying into them like crazy and still they continue to advance? Blast it!” He radios the current situation to the squad commander and asks for instructions. “Lead, our line is about to be overrun! We need to fall back now!” he screams.
“We need to hold them off just a little bit longer to buy the fleet time to prepare 10!” she orders, her voice tight with tension.
“NEGATIVE!” Raider 10 screams impotently. “We need to fall back NOW!” A large explosion fills the comm as Raider 10’s wingman takes a hit.
Commander Jessica Trudeau, commander of Squadron 3 looks out her viewscreen just in time to witness two scourge make it through the blistering missile fire and impact on the nose of Raider 11. The ship shudders from the impacts of the small flying bombs and shakes like a bone in the mouth of a terrier. She sees the ship appear to shrink on itself for a moment then expand out violently as the atmosphere is expelled out into the vacuum. She shields her eyes as the blinding flash of the ruptured fuel tanks and ammo of the now destroyed frigate fills space. She closes her eyes for a second and whispers a silent prayer for the lost crew.
“See that?!” screams Raider 10. “We can’t hold this line anymore! We need to fall back to the fleet now! I can’t –“
The transmission is cut off from Raider 10 as a scourge rams into the side of the frigate and vents it to space. The resulting implosion of escaping gases pulls an unfortunate crewmember into the cold void. The crippled frigate is then fired upon by three passing devourers, blasting it to pieces as the missiles from Stinger 8 destroys them in turn; adding to the chaos.
Trudeau checks her tactical display and watches in horror as three of her squad simultaneously disappear off her scopes in bright flashes. Other frigates explode along the line from the onslaught of the Zerg; fueling the carnage. Seeing her forces beginning to be overwhelmed by the relentless horde, she calls into the group commander and asks for permission to fall back to the fleet.
"There's too many of them," she screams to Viper 1. "We need to fall back now! I've lost five ships already on this end and there's just too many of them to stop!"
"Get your people out of there and back to the fleet Trudeau," orders Triggs. "We are breaking contact here and are heading back now!" I repeat, all units BREAK CONTACT NOW!" yells Viper 1.
"Roger that lead, Raiders are breaking now!" Trudeau passes the word to her squad and gets acknowledgements as she prepares to disengage from the Zerg herself. As she prepares her turn, a small trio of Zerg mutalisks closes on her firing sprays of acid from the portside. The ship rocks severely from the impacts. Her gunner responds instantly by firing a volley right into the center of the group. The frigate is rocked violently by the explosions, as the missiles detonate not more than thirty yards off the bow. Pieces of missile wreckage and Zerg gore smash into the hull causing small ruptures everywhere. Trudeau is thrown into a nearby command panel by the explosions and sees stars briefly. She feels a wet mark along her forehead and checks it with her hand; it comes away bloody. Alarms hoot insanely throughout the frigate.
"Commander! Are you alright?" yells her gunner as he rushes to help her up. She waves off his assistance.
"Get back to your station!" she orders sharply. "There are still more Zerg out there!" The gunner reluctantly obeys and returns to his station. "Damage report!" she barks out. "I need a damage report and someone shut that damn alarm off!"
Her engineering officer responds to the order immediately. "Computer reports multiple hullings along the forward decks. Main power is down to 63%. Hull integrity is lost on decks 2-3, forward port section. We still have firing control and engines!"
"Helm, get us the hell out of here then, fast as possible!" she orders as she climbs back to her chair.
The order to fall back towards the fleet is received and is acted on immediately. “All units! Begin falling back towards the fleet. Break contact now and fall back!” she orders. She gets acknowledgements from the rest of her squad as they prepare to break and run. Seeing the tide turn against them as well, squadrons 5 and 11, or more correctly what’s left of them begins to withdraw.
The few remaining ships fire off a few more volleys of missiles to cover their retreat and then turn to run to the relative safety of the main fleet. One Valkyrie, Viper 8, was turning to run and is hit in the aft section by a scourge; the engines flare brightly from the resulting impact and then shutdown from the blast. The doomed ship continues to move forward on inertia and tumbles end-over-end, slowly out of control. With the engines destroyed, the ship is dead in space and the crew is lost. Trudeau curses loudly as the cries of the doomed crew fill the comm. Knowing that it’s impossible to go back to save them she can only pray that they blow the reactor on the ship rather than be taken by the Zerg. She watches in frustration as a passing overlord moves to the crippled ship and latches onto the side like a parasite. From within the bowels of the lumbering creature, a group of hydras drops down onto the beleaguered ship and begin to move into the crippled ship through the ruptured hull. Apparently sharing the same thoughts as Trudeau, the crew of the doomed ship elects instead to blow the core rather than suffer at the hand of the Zerg. Fracture lines spiderweb along the hull as the ship is violently torn apart from within by the breached core. The overlord latched to the side is blasted apart like an exploding watermelon. So violent was the explosion that it killed several Zerg unfortunate enough to be in close proximity.
As the distance from the Zerg and the fleeing pickets increases, Trudeau leans back into her chair and dabs absent-mindedly at her cut with her sleeve. As the remains of the three Valkyrie squads fly back towards the fleet, Trudeau radios her squadron and requests a status report. The comm is filled with the replies of her group and she waits for more to come but they do not.
“My God…” she whispers. “Is that all that’s left of us?”
The others confirm it and she can barely control her anger and tears of frustration. Out of a squadron of twelve frigates, all that’s left of Valkyrie Squadron 3 are four. The other eleven remaining frigates of the picket line rocket towards the fleet with the Zerg horde hot on their tails.
On the bridge of the Alexander, Captain Torral watches the holographic displays of the fleet. Having witnessed earlier the picket battle on the displays, he feels himself now sinking slowly into despair. Although they managed to take out a large number of the approaching Zergs, the losses those frigates sustained more than outweigh the gains achieved. He looks out and sees the remains of the picket line passing into the fleet and lowers his head and offers a prayer for the lost crews. Lt. Hamilton steps next to his commander and watches the remaining picket ships come in.
"At least they softened up the Zerg some sir," he offers.
"It wasn't enough," replies Torral as he shakes his head. "I thought they would make a difference. I thought they would have bloodied the Zerg so severely that they would reconsider coming in on us. I was wrong and so those brave men and women I sent out there died for little gain."
"They did make a difference sir," Hamilton puts in. "Reports indicate that the Zerg have slowed their approach to the outer edge and appear to be possibly stopping," adds Hamilton.
"They are just massing their forces before making a push on us Erik. It's just a simple matter of numbers; they have them and we don't," says Torral as he smiles sadly. "All we succeeded in doing was to buy ourselves some more time. We can't afford to take such hard losses like that without any means of reinforcing ourselves."
"I didn't know you knew my first name sir," replies Hamilton with some surprise. Continuing on with a small amount of hope in his tone. "We still have that one ace card left to play sir."
"Smiling slightly, Torral says, "That we do Erik... that we do...” Bracing his arms behind his back, the captain continues on. "We've got one shot at playing this out right and then we have a good chance of getting out of here alive. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Torral turns fully to address his XO. "How soon would the Zerg reach the fleet if they keep advancing at their current speed," he asks.
"Roughly twenty-five minutes or so from now sir if they keep coming in at the same rate without stopping," comes the reply.
"Have those picket ships rearmed and redeployed as fast as possible. If our ace is going to work, we are going to need them," orders Torral. A sharp yes sir is delivered as Hamilton runs off to pass the word -- The fleet is going to attack. Hopefully this plan of his will work thinks Torral. Otherwise all of them will never make it out of this mess alive. With one final look at the Zerg massing in the cold void, Torral turns with the precision thirty years of service in the UED can create and walks off to face his destiny.
