Dylar IV: Central Command Base for Dominion Forces
Looking out across the vast barren expanses he sees the horizon shimmer lightly from the intense solar energy that continues to abuse this arid world. The few pockets of foliage that dot the landscape cast long shadows on the dim ground. The once darkened sky glows softly as the rising distant star heralds the coming of another day. All around him small gusts of wind stir up the dusty soil creating numerous clouds of dried dirt and debris that only adds to the misery of this foreboding, desolate place. He spots a sandy cloud rushing towards him and he quickly tightens his clothing and gear just before it hits. The cloud strikes his form and he feels the fine grains lashing at his exposed skin, scratching him lightly. The air grows dry and he feels his throat grow parched as the heated cloud saps what little moisture remains on this forsaken planet from the air. The cloud soon leaves him to continue on its meandering way as he slowly shakes the sand out of his clothes and hair. He reaches for his water canteen and takes a long pull from the contents within. He swishes some of the warm water around his mouth as his cells absorb the offered moisture rapidly. Stowing his now empty canteen he pauses for a moment to wipe the back of his hand across his sweat-covered brow. A few drops slip past his hand and his eyes sting from the salt. Rubbing the annoying pain from his eyes he takes a deep breath and glances back one last time to view the rising sun. Only a few minutes past daybreak and already he feels the air slowly beginning to grow hotter announcing yet another day of action. “How could anyone live in such a hellhole,” he asks quietly into the brightening sky. Not expecting a reply to his question, he turns to return to the base perimeter.
“You done communing with nature there, boss?” asks MSgt. Hal Frost from under the shade of a withered tree as he drinks from a mug of coffee.
“Hal, I hope you someday realize just how important a few seconds of peace and quiet are worth,” counters Manny with a smirk.
“Oh… begging your pardon sir. Us Noncoms can’t spare the time to enjoy nature like you officers get to do,” states Frost, his words dripping with sarcasm. “I’m just a dumb o’ sergeant so I have to spend my time working for a living,” he adds with a tight grin.
“Enough crap Hal or I’ll have you on a one-way trip to Char,” he retorts with a chuckle.
“Will a cup of coffee help change your mind about my punishment Manny,” he asks as he extends a mug.
“It might…“ he says as he takes the peace offering and takes a sip. The warm fluid flows smoothly down and he feels the stimulant kicking in clearing the cobwebs of sleep from his mind. “Good coffee… you’re forgiven.”
“It should be… it’s your coffee again boss.” replies Frost. They both chuckle over their customary morning exchange.
“Ya know what, I really should start charging your ass for drinking my coffee.”
“It wouldn’t work out too well Manny… you know how much I make… you won’t get much out my paycheck.”
Manny smiles as both warriors slip into silence to watch the distant star rise over the horizon. Frost is the first to break the silence.
“So how’s the new rank treating you?”
“Kinda strange Hal… never expected to make Captain so soon. To be honest with you, I’d rather go back to just being a plain old Lieutenant; less headaches.”
“C’mon… you earned it boss. Don’t give it any second thoughts,” states Frost cheerfully.
“It was more like I was next in line so now I’m it by default Hal,” replies Manny as he shrugs.
“Too bad about Captain Briggs though huh?”
“Yeah… he was a good commander,” sadly states Manny.
“Do you ever think this shit is ever going to end Manny?” quietly asks Frost.
“I don’t even know anymore Hal,” he says as he stares off into the distance. “When I first joined up I had visions of going out and kickin’ alien ass up and down the sector in the name of humanity. Get a lot of medals and retire like a general or something like that,” he states as he waves his hand up towards space. “Now… things are more simplistic… all I want to do now is get out in one piece.”
“I hear ya boss,” adds Frost as he snorts softly, “back when I joined the Confederacy, space was the place to be with lots of opportunities for advancement. When I started to see it crumble I decided it was in my best interest and that of my family to hitch up with Mengsk’s boys instead. Now look at where it got me… I’m back on some backwater planet fighting pathetic aliens all over again. I’m just getting tired of all this Manny… time to leave the fighting to you young guys. I just want to settle down and be with my family now…” he whispers softly.
“You’re almost done with your hitch right?” asks Manny as he turns his head to watch several dozen dropships slowly level off overhead and land on the distant tarmac.
“Yeah… I’m out in like less than two months,” he states with a broad grin. “Passing on my leave gets me out two weeks sooner so I figured what the hell right?”
“Are Loraine and the kids ok with that? You said it yourself Hal you haven’t seen them in almost a year’s time.”
“We talked and she said the sooner I get home the better. A few more weeks wouldn’t matter to her… just as long as I make it up to them when I get back! I’ve got a nice instructor billet open to me on Korhal when I get back so I’m still in the fight.”
“Well I suppose I’ll have to put up with your sorry ass until then huh?”
“You got that right… Captain. I’ve been babysitting your snot-nosed, wet-behind-the-ears, 1st Lieutenant ass all this time so don’t think I’m going to stop now.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way Hal,” he replies. In the distance, Manny sees troops beginning to file out of the recently arrived DropShips and sees it’s time to go back to work.
“C’mon mano,” says Manny as he backhands Frost lightly in the chest, “time for us to meet the new cherries huh?”
Gesturing with great exaggeration and a smile Frost replies, “After you sir… Captain sir!”
Shaking his head with slight annoyance, Manny punches Frost lightly in the shoulder as he leads the way back into the base. The interior is a sharp contrast to the outside peace as a flurry of activity abounds everywhere. The newly arrived troops swiftly clear the tarmac under the watchful eyes of the ground crews as dozens of vehicles unload and noisily roar off to distant collection points. Orders are barked out over the din of engine noises as NCOs struggle to get the new arrivals organized and formed up into their respective companies. A few dropships, their cargo finished unloading immediately liftoff to return to their bases as waves of exhaust stream from their engines causing the ground to shimmer from the heat; clouds of sand are blasted outwards in their passing wake. Manny and Frost are forced to momentarily shield their faces from the showering hail.
“Hal, get the men settled in as soon as you can. I’ve got a briefing to get to so I figure we’re probably gonna have some work before this day is out.”
“Will do boss,” replies Frost as he snaps out a crisp salute and then sharply turns to run off and get the replacements settled in. He immediately goes to work by swearing, pushing and even kicking the new arrivals into formation in such a manner that it shows years of practice. Manny shakes his head with amusement as the memories of those same words spring to his mind. Above the noise of the landing field Manny hears Frost continuing his orientation.
“Alright you slimy, cesspool, wormy parasites! Your asses now have the honor of being in Alpha Squadron, A Company now so that means they belong to me!” His booming voice is still heard despite the barrage of noise around him while his expression is hard and seems etched in stone. “I am Master Sergeant Frost,” he states in a tone that eliminates any doubt as to who is in charge, “it is my job to prep you all to Alpha Squadron standards and I will not FAIL in this task! There is no favoritism in this Squadron… in my opinion; you are all equally worthless pieces of shit until I deem you worthy. I work hard therefore you will work harder—” the rest of his words fade as Manny walks into the base command center and the exterior hatch hisses softly behind him.
His boots clang lightly on the metal grates that cover the deck as the hall lights cast a pale white glow everywhere. He catches bits and pieces of frantic readiness reports from sections as he passes the comm center and past experience tells him that when the comm division is busy it usually means that they’ve got some action in the works. Walking deeper into the center, he finally reaches the two massive doors marking the entrance to the Combat Information Center; two marines looking wicked in their combat suits stand guard outside. As he approaches, the marines sharply snap to attention and fire off a salute while the duty sergeant confirms Manny’s identification. The unknown sergeant snaps off a salute and with the press of an unseen button, the doors quietly slide open with a barely audible hiss. The room is shaped like a massive bowl with seats lining the way down towards the central ring. Everywhere he looks, he sees most of the senior and junior commanders of Alpha Squadron milling about talking in hushed tones as a massive hologram of the planet dominates the center of the room. Sections highlighted in white indicate areas firmly under control of the Dominion while territories that still remain under Zerg control glow red; theirs is a sphere of influence that seems to be rapidly shrinking he sees with some small satisfaction. Several officers file in behind him and he is saddened to see that there are very few familiar faces around.
“Lieutenant Hawkins,” bellows General Ames above the murmuring noise of those present, his voice, easily projecting out from below without the need of electronic assistance.
“Yes General?” comes the harried reply from an overworked and under-appreciated aide.
“Are all the commanders here yet son?” inquires Ames impatiently.
“Yes sir. All present and accounted for now sir.”
“All right… let’s get this over with then,” he bellows yet again as he pounds a Gauss clip on a console. “If I may have your attention! We’ve got a lot of ground to cover so let’s get to it,” he yells sharply. The murmuring stops as those present quickly settle down into their respective seats. Manny settles down in Alpha Company’s designated seating section as a young Lieutenant settles in beside him.
“For those of you who have not met me, I am General Christopher Ames,” he states proudly. “I am the commander of Alpha Squadron and I demand only the best from my troops. Those of you who were recently transferred to this outfit are here because you excelled greater than your peers. You should consider it an honor to be serving in my unit,” he says as he smiles broadly. Gesturing slightly to his side, he continues with an almost offhand attitude, “Colonel Stewart is my second so if you have any procedural questions or supply requests please direct them to him.” Even with the distance, Manny can see Stewart grimace slightly at the downplaying of his importance. “Now that the formalities are out of the way let’s get down to business.
The general gestures slightly to his side as his aide activates some controls and the hologram shifts and then scales in to display new sectors. Ames briskly walks to the central ring and gestures towards the display.
“The areas marked in white are territories that we control. Those in red are of course the Zerg. We have finally ascertained the exact location of what intelligence believes is the commanding cerebrate on this planet. Apparently this creature has been randomly moving from one location to the next in order to evade attack but now it’s ass is ours,” he says as he pounds his fist into his open palm. Several officers shift in their seats to get a better view now that their attention has been perked.
“It is my intention to see that this over-grown slug is reduced to a mere smear on the landscape and that is where you people come in,” he states as he gestures to those gathered. “Our assault will be composed of two parts. Colonel Stewart here will elaborate on my proposed plan.”
“Thank you General,” replies Stewart with barely a hint of civility as he takes Ames’ place in the center of the room. The central image shifts and then zooms in on the remains of a blasted city labeled New Vista. “Intelligence has finally isolated the cerebrate on this planet to be here,” he states as he points at the now highlighted location. “That people, is the trophy of this little hunt!”
An aide moves to Stewart’s side and hands him several documents as he prepares to outline the plan. “As the General stated there will be two parts to this assault. Part one is as follows.” The image shifts to display several images and flight plans.
“The attack will commence with a preparatory orbital bombardment from our cruisers of the surrounding Zerg structures and defenses. The intent of course is to smash any and all forms of resistance. Large concentrations of Zerg forces that we have identified will of course receive special attention from our cruisers as well as anything else perceived as a threat.” The image shifts to now display several depicted ground forces advancing on the Zerg stronghold.
“The second part will be up to you commanders and your subordinates,” states Stewart as he gestures towards those gathered.
“Just what kind of opposition are we expected to face there Colonel,” asks Manny from the back of the room.
“Captain Ramirez,” says Stewart with a small respectful nod, “since the cerebrate has been moving around quite a bit, intelligence feels that it has not had the chance to solidify control of the area so it is believed resistance will be light.”
The few surviving veteran officers share their opinion of this bit of information with a few snorts of disgust.
“Excuse me sir,” says Manny above the growing murmuring, “just how accurate is this information? I mean we’re talking about hitting a Zerg cerebrate here right? Can we honestly expect this thing to be that lightly defended?”
Stewart pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts before he answers. “Although intelligence believes the target to be an easy picking, I’d recommend that all of you prepare your forces accordingly for possibly stiff resistance from the Zerg. To be perfectly honest with you, I’m expecting some serious opposition,” states Stewart as he glances towards the General.
“But sir, why can’t we just blast that place into atoms from space? Why risk taking massive casualties? Why not let the fleet do the work on this one and save some grunt lives,” asks Manny intently as several officers share their agreement.
“The plan has been evaluated Captain and appears to be sound according to the simulations run thus far. Sensor scans reveal the cerebrate far too deep underground for an orbital bombardment to do much damage so we’re forced to rely on ground forces to set the warheads within the hive. I’m sorry Manny but we need men on the ground for this one. If we blast the area like we did the last time, we’ll lose track of it from all the radiation and it gets away.”
“Colonel sir, then why can’t we—“
“Do we have a problem Captain,” asks Ames harshly, “because if WE do then I’m sure I can find someone else to command A Company who doesn’t have a problem with this plan!”
“No General… no problem sir,” flatly replies Manny.
“Good,” Ames states with some satisfaction as he gestures for Stewart to continue on.
Stewart clears his throat slightly and continues outlining the assault plan. “After the bombardment, three space borne assault groups will come in and land here,” he points towards a heavily blasted sector on the outskirts of the central hive, “you are to move in fast and hard and breech the interior of the hive and head down to place those nukes.”
“Speed is of the essence here people,” stresses Stewart, “once those nukes are set you haul your asses out of there ASAP!”
Manny quietly sits through the rest of the briefing with a straight face as timetables and unit assignments are reviewed while he tries to quiet the gnawing doubts in the back of his mind. Two hours pass when the briefing concludes and he trails out with the following commanders as he issues orders to his new lieutenants; so many new faces and so few familiar ones. Frost as always, is there to greet him when he exits the command center.
“What’s the skinny boss?”
“We’re going for the big boy on this one Hal. We’re heading for New Vista where the intel weenies say the cerebrate is. We’re going in on the ground again and we’re supposed to nuke its ass.”
“How’s it look?” asks Frost quietly as they pass a group of new officers eagerly discussing the upcoming mission.
“Looks lousy Hal,” says Manny as he frowns, “I don’t like it, from what I’ve seen there are too many things to go wrong. Way too much dependant on luck… I’ve got a hunch that this isn’t going to go down well…”
“C’mon Manny,” says Frost as he gestures for him to follow, “let’s see what we can do to tip the odds in our favor some.” They both walk off to the company’s HQ to discuss the mission as they struggle to quiet the growing fears in the back of their minds.
***
Meanwhile far out on the fringe of the Dominion held sector, the Hawkins, an explorer vessel continues its lonely duty of deep space surveillance. The vessel and its crew have been on patrol for several weeks now with no relief to come for at least another month. Boredom has become the daily routine for these people but all that is about to change rather quickly.
“Commander, I’ve just detected a weird sensor reading on my scopes.” announces Ensign Carolyn Benavides.
“What’ve you got Ensign?” asks Commander Peter Lombardo as he moves to her station.
“I’m not sure,” she replies with hesitation, “it seems to fade in and out so I can’t really confirm it.”
“Possibly some left over space debris then? This whole area used to be a dumping ground at one point you know,” he offers.
“I don’t think so sir… when I do see it it’s way too strong a return for just junk.”
“When was the last time you performed a systems check?”
“I just did sir, twice, and the readings still keep appearing.”
Lombardo pauses for a moment to digest the unusual news. “There were a few reports like this from the previous patrol but I never heard anything else about it. Do you have a time log—“
“There it is again!” she exclaims excitedly as she points towards a sector of her display. A massive surge of energy blossoms outward as shipboard sensors desperately try to map the erratic readings. “It’s growing larger with each event too sir.”
“That’s not too far from here either,” he states as he weighs the situation and comes to a decision. “Helm, alter our patrol to intercept the new coordinates I’m sending you.”
“Course plotted sir and locked in. Time to intercept is 1:00 minutes commander.”
“Very well.”
The Hawkins closes the distance shortly and arrives at the projected coordinates for the energy disturbance. Nothing more than the vast seas of space filled with seemingly emptiness greets them at their destination.
“Well… where the hell is it?”
“I don’t get it sir,” states the ensign as she shakes her head in wonder, “there should be a massive energy field here that we should be able to see something… anything.”
“It looks like you need to recalibrate your systems there ensign,” he says as he sighs softly with disappointment. “Helm plot in the course to resume our patrol and—“
Lombardo never gets to finish his words as a portal erupts forth from a point in space and explodes forth. A massive energy wave blasts outward from the rapidly growing tear in space and smashes into the vessel violently. The Hawkins and her crew are battered senseless as the wave engulfs the vessel and then continues on its path.
“Damage report! Damage report!” bellows Lombardo over the cacophony of alarms hooting everywhere as dozens of systems on the bridge spark with small fires.
“Systems are not responding sir,” replies the damage control officer as he presses his hand against his bleeding left eye. “I’m reading everything offline and engineering is not responding.”
“MY GOD!” exclaims one of the bridge crew as she points towards the main viewscreen.
Lombardo quickly turns to see the cause of the commotion and his blood freezes from the sight. Several massive vessels materialize forth from the rippling portal and glide majestically through space. The vessels are unlike anything that he has seen before; glistening black and red, the alien crafts’ hulls seem almost organic and alive as they alter colors randomly. The vessels shift in space into a formation and begin to move towards the damaged Terran vessel.
“Can we send a signal to Dominion command!?” he asks urgently.
“Negative sir! Comm systems are still offline!” states an officer with fear growing in his voice.
The bow of the lead vessel slowly opens like a blossom to reveal its deadly cargo. Lombardo stands in awe as he witnesses energies begin to build at the bow that would make the fires of Hell itself pale in comparison. With an intense flaring of light and energy, a massive bean lances out across space to strike the Hawkins. The beam consumes the vessel with an almost animalistic appetite as all traces of it literally cease to exist. As he feels himself being ripped apart by the incredible forces assaulting his body, his mind is saddened by the fact that the terrible news of this threat shall die with him. In the aftermath only small bits and pieces of molten and slagged metal are all that remain of the blasted Terran vessel. The alien vessels stop briefly for a moment to survey their work as they hover like predators over a fallen prey. On a single command they move as one and shift in space to head towards their intended destination, Dylar IV.
