A constant rain of ash continues to fall upon the ground like an evil snow, giving the surrounding terrain an almost hellish appearance as black rolling clouds and fires burn everywhere. The battered and abused surface of this planet continues to tremble from the onslaught of dozens of energy lances that remorselessly strike from above. The sound of chaos and death permeates the air as the forces of the Dominion conduct what they believe will be the final battle for control of this forsaken planet. Only moments ago, the Terrans launched their final offensive strike against the Zerg on Dylar IV. Wave upon wave of dropships, filled with troops and equipment, have finally succeeded in penetrating the surrounding airspace of their target zone and have already begun to unload their deadly cargo. The rain of fire continues to fall from above as those with the fleet exact their deadly revenge by blasting anything deemed worthy enough for their guns. Despite the massive amounts of firepower aligned against them, the Zerg still continue to fight heedless of their own safety or thought of self-preservation as they desperately try to stem the flowing tide of those who have come seeking vengeance.
As the troops of the assault groups surge outward from the landing zone and begin to encroach further into the hive network, the plight of the Zerg become even more desperate. Sensing that his current forces are insufficient in strength to stop the invaders, the cerebrate Trasa slowly begins to pull his forces back in an attempt to stall for time.
Staring out through the eyes of his minions, he watches with growing despair as his forces are slaughtered under the guns and cannons of the Terrans. He feels their deaths as brief flashes of pain as each of them winks out of existence. The images of the battle flash by at an incredible rate as he struggles to coordinate the defensive efforts of his forces. Narrowing his thoughts slightly, he feels some elation as he watches a single group of Terran creatures encased in their strange carapaces, rush blindly forward into one of his many ambushes. Through the eyes of a force of fleeing hydralisks, he watches as the strangely clad creatures run right over a force lying in wait beneath the sandy surface. With a brief command from him, the mass of hydralisks quickly turns around to engage their pursuers as his hidden forces erupt from the surrounding ground. A shower of dirt and debris flies everywhere as the Terrans belatedly realize their folly. Though he feels the piercing pain of his forces falling before their guns, their numbers are far too great for their isolated prey to stop. Dozens of zerglings and hydralisks materialize among them and immediately begin to maul their enemies. The Terrans suddenly find themselves caught between two forces and a vicious little battle takes place among the growing chaos. The air is quickly filled with the shrieks of fury and pain as both sides tear into each other.
"Oh God. Noooo-" agonizingly screams one of the marines caught in the moving ambush. His panicky cry goes unheard as several zerglings leap on his form and stab their claws repeatedly into his bloody form ripping him apart. His scream of agony is reduced to a sick gurgle and then silence. Within seconds, the ground where he once laid is stained a crimson red as pieces of his suit and his shattered body lie everywhere. Those around him quickly share his fate as blood and assorted body parts litter the small clearing.
The rattle of rifle fire and the sharp snaps of hundreds of lethal needles lancing through the air merely adds to the carnage. Several yellow-red blasts stream outward from the encircled Terrans as their fire-wielders try to clear a path. Over a dozen zerglings and hydralisks are quickly bathed in the hellish fires and scream in agony. Having learned from past experience, Trasa immediately orders his hydralisks to target the strange lumps on the fire-wielders and he is rewarded with a spectacular display. Massive explosions erupt into the sky as pools of fire spread on the ground and those nearby. Within the ambush, small knots of marines stand back-to-back, the muzzles of their weapons glowing red-hot as they struggle for survival. Over a dozen of the Zerg warriors fall before their guns, their bodies gyrating from the impacts of the shells as blood sprays everywhere and slicks the ground. The other hydralisks quickly launch a volley of needles and the results are devastating. The marines are struck by the barrage and sent sprawling onto the sandy ground; their bodies immediately pounced upon by advancing Zerg. The few that somehow managed to last through the ambush quickly disappear under the living wave that envelops them.
Off in the distance, he sees one of the Terran vessels of war slowly moving forward with a large mass of the armored Terran warriors traveling beneath its shadow. Quickly accessing the situation, Trasa wisely orders his ambush force back in defense of the hive. On command, the surviving Zerg quickly move backwards as their numbers continue to decrease under the intense fire from the invaders. Hundreds of red lances erupt from the large vessel and land among the retreating Zerg. The ground is battered intensely as his forces are literally vaporized under the abuse; pieces of Zerg are cast everywhere to soak the ground with the smell of death. Trasa grows desperate as he spots more of the Terrans pushing his forces back.
Reaching outward with his mind, he tries to make contact with the one sent to help. After mere moments pass, he soon feels a strong, familiar presence approaching and pleads for it to hurry.
"Chazz. how soon before your forces arrive!?" urgently asks Trasa.
"Patient Trasa. My forces will be there soon. continue delaying the Terrans as best as you can," calmly replies Chazz.
"You must hurry!" insists Trasa. "The Terrans are far too strong for my forces to stop them in their current state! They will be upon me soon!"
"Cease your endless sniveling," snaps Chazz contemptuously, "it does not suit you."
"Forgive me Chazz," respectfully says Trasa. "The Terrans have undoubtedly come for me this time. I and what remains of my brood must move from this location quickly or all may be lost."
"You will hold them until I arrive Trasa!" stiffly orders Chazz. "Do not uproot your forces and relinquish that ground! I shall soon be there and together we will drive them off and begin retaking their worlds."
"As you say Chazz. I shall hold them until you arrive," humbly replies Trasa as he ends his mental connection. Far off in the distance, the massive dark cloud that is Chazz's brood continues its frantic pace.
***
Meanwhile, the forces of the Dominion continue to capitalize on the overwhelming firepower at their disposal as they bull their way forward towards their target.
"FIRE!" screams the commander of the tank platoon assigned to A Company. On his command, massive five-foot long gouts of fire blast from the barrels of the tanks under his command. The sound of linen tearing is heard as the massive shells carve a path through the sky. Downrange, several geysers of debris, body parts and blood erupts skyward as yet another pocket of Zerg resistance is smashed.
"Good shooting Lieutenant!" yells Manny into the tank channel as he sights in on the distant fires. "Looks like another bug hole about forty meters to the right and down fifteen of that last one."
"Got it Cap'n," comes the muffled reply. Within seconds the tank barrels shift slightly as they sight in. With a thunderous roar that rattles the very ground, another barrage arcs out from the tank line. The distant Zerg mass disappears in a blinding flash of light as numerous shells pound the earth violently.
"All companies move it up!" screams Colonel Wes Haagen, the battalion commander of Assault Group Red. "We're head' in into the city!"
"Let's go A Company!" screams Manny on his comm as he rises from behind his mound hosing off a dozen rounds. His troops quickly follow suit as the men and women of Alpha Company rush deeper into the ruined city towards the living fortress of the Zerg. Hundreds of troops leap from behind cover as they advance on the retreating Zerg. The air is filled with their battle cries and the sharp popping of rifle fire. Those Zerg unfortunate enough to be in the back of the retreating wave fall before the intense rifle fire; their bodies littering the ground and creating a ghastly trail of corpses.
Overhead, Zerg capable of flight are having even less success than their grounded brethren are. Despite their massive numbers, their efforts to destroy the advancing waves of infantry are severely hampered by the Terran air cover. One after another, the wall of lasers that erupt from the covering cruisers vaporizes them. Their efforts, driven by desperation and frustration still manage to meet with some small success. Several fires rage along the battered and blackened surfaces of the accompanying Terran cruisers but the damage is still not enough. Nearby, a flight of wraiths roars along the side of one battered cruiser as they give chase to a group of mutalisks. Missiles and lasers ripple out from the fighters as their targets are hammered to leave expanding clouds of blood and gore in their wake.
A sudden roar blasts overhead from a damaged wraith, flames shooting from its port wing, as it zooms over the outskirts of the city in pursuit of a fleeing devourer. A missile drops from the hard point with a snap-hiss and blazes in on its victim. The missile explodes a few yards short of the target but still manages to catch it within the blast radius. Dozens of pieces of hot shrapnel pierce the lone devourer and rip through its body. A flash of red and the poor creature plummets to the ground to land in a crumple. Seconds later, a nearby flight of mutalisks blast the crippled fighter and it erupts into a shower of flaming debris. Several fighters immediately rocket after the departing mutalisks to avenge their comrade.
Down below in front of the charge, Manny watches as the crippled fighter disappears in a blinding flash of light as scrap falls to the ground. Screaming over his comm, he immediately orders his troops to seek cover as the first pieces arrive. Manny dives behind the blackened remains of a transport and watches in horror as two marines are slow to react and are cut to ribbons under the deadly hail. He rushes over to his downed men as the rest of his troops push forward into the city, their guns blazing madly. He reaches them and then grimly realizes that there is little he can do for one, a red smear and a flaming section marking his grave. The other might have a chance and he quickly calls for aid.
"Medic!" he screams above the intense noise, "I need a medic over here!" Several medics, weaving through the running wave of troops, hear his cry and quickly go to work to stabilize the wounded marine. Seeing that there is nothing more that he can do, Manny glances briefly at the ammo count on his rifle and presses forward.
Up ahead, high-pitched shrieks echo through the air and are answered immediately by rifle fire as another pocket of resistance is encountered. The deep sounding noise of grenades being fired is soon heard and replaced with a series of explosions. He spots several marines dragging the wounded back towards cover where medics wait as the Zerg setup yet another attempt to delay them. Staying low, Manny rushes quickly forward in an attempt to better organize his troops to deal with this new threat. Behind a mound of debris, he spots Frost and Beekins firing back at their tormentors. He moves from cover and quickly ducks back as several hydralisks peek out from behind a distant mound and volley off a flurry of needles. Several screams and rocks being kicked up mark their passing. Using a bit more caution, he rolls out firing his rifle and runs along the side of a building to where one of his platoons waits.
"Took you long enough Manny," says Frost with a broad grin.
"I stopped for some coffee," replies Manny with a smile as he peeks over the edge and quickly drops back as several spikes whip the rocks around him. "What's the scoop Lieutenant?"
"We were moving along pretty good then ran smack dab into a wall of Zerg sir. They don't seem interested in charging us. they seem content just holding us here. Where's the rest of the company sir?"
"I've got Weathers moving the 2nd up along the flank with Gunny Ortelli sweeping right with the 3rd," Manny says as he points off to his right.
"Ortelli?" asks Beekins with a look of surprise. "What happened to Matheson?"
"He's dead, worry about the living instead Lieutenant," flatly replies Manny without looking at him as he checks into his comm channel.
"What's going on on your end Weathers?"
"We can't advance sir," comes the distant reply as gunfire is heard in the background. "They're dug in awfully mean and don't wanna leave."
"Ok stand by," Manny says as he quickly switches over to the next platoon. "Guns. talk to me."
"No can do here boss," replies the strained voice. "I've got the same problem. We need some heavies if we want to clear them out!"
"Our armor is stuck somewhere behind us," says Manny as he looks back down the littered street in an effort to spot the accompanying tank platoon. "You two sit tight and be ready to move out on my signal. I'm going to whistle us up some support."
"Roger that sir," reply the platoon leaders.
"Hal, take that weapon crew and have them setup in that building across the street," orders Manny as he points towards a burnt-out café. "Tell them to put some fire along that line!"
"Got it Manny," shouts Frost as he moves over to the crew to inform them of the move. The loud buzzing of the heavy weapon stops as the crew quickly tears it down for transport. Manny rapidly switches his comm over to the assault channel as he continues to swear loudly to himself.
"Red Lead. Red Lead. this is Alpha Six. Come in over."
"Alpha Six, this is Red Lead," answers Colonel Wendell Haagen, his voice sounding tinny and hollow over the comm. "Send your traffic. over."
"Have encountered heavy resistance sir and requesting immediate support. over."
"Use your tanks son. That’s what they're there for. over."
"No can do Colonel," answers Manny as his face twists with annoyance, "our tanks are jammed in the streets and can't reach us. We need some heavy-duty firepower NOW if we want to keep advancing."
"Ok son. hang tight. Friendly air coming your way. Red Lead out."
"Acknowledge Lead." Switching back to his company channel, Manny informs his troops to be ready to advance on his command. Off to his left, he watches several marines moving behind two advancing Goliath walkers as they slowly pick their way through the debris littered street. The cockpits shift slightly as the main guns open up and a tremendous roar fills the air. Dozens of tracer rounds, looking like lasers, spray forth as a series of explosions and shrieks are heard in the distance. Just when it appears the walkers' firepower would make a difference, a literal wall of spikes slams into them. The metal sparks from the impacts as dozens of holes are ripped into their frames. Several spikes manage to pierce the missile pods and the Goliaths are violently blown apart in the fireball that consumes them.
"So much for that idea," sadly comments a marine private next to Manny as he pokes at a smoking piece that landed beside him.
"We're not done yet." answers Manny as he points to several dots rapidly closing from behind and above. "Air coming in people. get ready!" he yells into the comm.
With an intense roar that shakes those below, several Terran Lancer class gunships blast over the once pristine streets toward their target zone. The side gun mounts swivel downward on the heavy fighters as they stop to hover above the troops. Blinding flashes suddenly obscure the strike craft as their cannons open up on the entrenched Zerg. The pocket of resistance quickly disappears behind a curtain of debris as dozens of explosions rip the ground up. Those Zerg that make an attempt to strike their attackers merely draw attention from the heavy guns and are quickly silenced. The surviving Zerg quickly break and retreat to seek what little safety the hive may offer them. Seeing their job done, the fighters quickly move off to wait for further orders as their guns continue to track and fire on those Zerg in range. A chorus of cheers erupts from Manny's company, as a path to the distant hive is finally laid bare.
"Alpha Company let's go!" screams Manny as he leaps up to lead the charge, his rifle clattering loudly. His troops follow suit and after a few minutes soon find themselves joined by the other companies attached to Assault Group Red. Throughout the surrounding area, waves of infantry and mechanized units churn the ground into huge clouds of dust as they press onward towards their goal. Soon the air grows moist and steamy and reeks of rotting odors as they finally arrive at the edge of the foul Zerg living carpet. Dozens of the bizarre Zerg structures dot the landscape of blasted and ruined buildings creating an impressive defensive network. Unfortunately for the Zerg, the Terrans have come prepared for just such an obstacle. Dozens of tanks that survived the landing as well as the trip through the city moved to bombardment positions on command. The familiar roar of arclite fire thunders through the air yet again as the defensive structures and then hatcheries erupt into red splashes of fluid. All around the central hive, the other two assault groups contribute their fire with devastating results as they slowly push inwards. The command channels are a buzz with reports from the different assault groups as they clear their areas of responsibility.
"Green Charlie Five to Green Lead. reporting EVAC zone secured."
"Acknowledge Green Charlie Five, dropships inbound for return track to-"
"This is Blue Bravo Six. Have encountered heavy resistance at grid coordinates Tango Six Nine Five. Requesting immediate gunship support at my-"
"This is Red Lead, assaults groups in place and ready to commence final phase-"
"Blue Alpha Six requesting immediate EVAC of casualties. Will rendezvous at coordinates-"
"Heavy Low One, continue your top cover until dropships are-"
Far above in orbit, the numerous assault reports are welcomed enthusiastically and draw a wide smile from General Ames.
"Colonel Stewart order the assault groups into the hive to set the nukes."
"The area is still not completely secured sir," protests Stewart with a look of surprise on his face. "Shouldn't we wait until they finish securing the perimeter?"
"My boys can handle it. Every minute we delay gives that big slug more opportunity to get away. We got 'em reeling on the ropes. now we finish them for good. Order them in Colonel," he orders sternly.
"Yes sir," grudgingly replies Stewart as he moves to issue the order. "All assault elements this is command. commence phase Thunder. I say again commence phase Thunder."
"Acknowledge command," briskly reply the battalion commanders below.
An intense preparatory barrage is unleashed on the entrenched Zerg in an attempt to punch a hole through their weakening lines. The landscape is quickly pocketed with hundreds of smoldering craters as the Terrans prepare their final push. On a single command, the companies assigned to the assault surge forth as their cries of anger and hatred flow over the battlefield like an ill wind bringing death with them. The remaining Zerg forces that had managed to survive up to that point are quickly displaced and flee into their lairs. The intense arclite fire is ordered silent as a squadron of gunships fly over the advancing troops. With a deep series of rumbles, cannon fire erupts from the gunships to create dozens of explosions that light up the exterior of the hardened structure. Pieces of the fortress are blasted everywhere and expose the interior to the invaders.
"C'mon Lieutenant," shouts Frost as he leads the charge towards one of the openings. "You can't let the other companies hog all the glory for themselves now?"
"Don't worry 'bout them Sergeant," yells back Beekins as he struggles to keep pace with Frost, "you better keep moving yourself cause if I catch up. I'm gonna kill you for making me run!"
Frost's hearty laughter can be heard even above the din of sporadic gunfire as he continues to weave his way through the field. The majority of the platoon is spread around Beekins as they quickly close the distance to the hive.
"Crissakes. he's old enough to be my father and he's not even breathing hard," rasps Beekins as he pours it on to catch up.
"Don't feel so bad sir," breathlessly says a nearby marine, "the sarge somehow has an endless supply of energy. I don't even think he sleeps."
"Yeah," adds another marine, "the sarge ain't human. neither is the Cap'n," he says as he points up ahead.
"'Bout time you showed up Beekins," says Manny as he ejects a used clip and slams a new one in with a metallic click. The rest of Beekins' platoon arrives noisily as some of them bend over to recover from the flood of adrenaline. The remainder of the company quickly spreads out around the opening and prepares for entry.
"Sorry. sir," replies Beekins as he wheezes slightly and coughs. "1st platoon reporting in."
"2nd platoon all present or accounted for sir."
"3rd here sir."
"Guns. Your boys along with the 3rd from Bravo and Charlie companies are to hold this side of our perimeter. If it's not human don't hesitate. Clear?"
Ortelli merely nods and moves off with his men to organize with the other companies and dig in.
"Weathers. Beekins. you're with me. We're going in with the rest. Wait for my signal and we rush in. Don't forget we need to get as far down as we can for our nukes to do any good. No heroic bullshit ok. in-and-out as fast as we can. Got it?"
"Yes sir," they reply nervously as ammunition is redistributed among the troops.
"All assault groups you are cleared to head in," announces the battalion commander, "kick ass and take names boys!"
"That's it!" shouts Manny, "Let's go!" Several grenades are tossed and fired through the opening and explode inside with a hollow ring. The marines filter in as their guns rattle away at whatever may be lying in wait. What little resistance they encountered is eliminated with minimal casualties as the companies quickly secure the central chamber and then head down the dozens of darkened passages into the unknown. The demo teams on their heels as they cart the massive warheads behind them.
***
Several hundred miles above and away, the pilots of the 1024th tactical squadron continue on with their less than glamorous assignment. The twelve fighters silently blaze over the planet as they attempt to locate the long overdue patrol. As expected, they are not in the best of moods.
"This is really bullshit Commander," grumbles Ensign Stan 'Moose' Mallory, the pilot of Marauder 12. "We should be down with the assault instead of out here doing SAR work."
"We don't need the reminder Moose," snaps Commander Giles, "let's just find that patrol and get this over with."
"We're now reaching maximum comm range," states the squadron XO, Melina 'Dagger' Vasquez.
"Copy Dagger. Marauders 11 and 12. deploy your relays."
"Roger that," comes the replies as two miniature satellites are ejected off the fighters. Once clear, the tiny satellites' dishes slowly spread apart like petals on a flower to reveal their sensor arrays. Small blue plumes are seen as maneuvering thrusters are fired to move them into position.
"Relays are online and ready to transmit, Bossman."
"Copy Sparrow," responds Giles as he glances back at the relays. "Let's push it up people. we've still got a lot of space to cover." The fighters' drives flare as they accelerate onto their patrol track. After several seconds of silence several kilometers have passed, one of them calls in to ask a question.
"Umm. Commander," nervously ask the pilot of Marauder 9 as he stares at the dark mass moving on the planet below. "Are we expecting any storms across the southern continent?"
"Rain on Dylar IV at this time of the year? Not likely Lyle. why do you ask?"
"That's what I thought. The reason I asked was because I was hoping someone could tell me what THAT is moving off to starboard and below on the planet's surface."
The pilots of the 1024th stare off to starboard and are greeted with a view that chills their blood. Even from far above, the dark moving wave is clearly visible from space as it pulsates and surges towards its goal. In its wake, large clouds of dust are created that billow all along the path of the living wave. The implications of this discovery, as expected are deemed extremely disturbing.
"What the F*** is that?!" demands the pilot of Marauder 3. "Somebody please tell what the F*** that is that we're looking at?!"
"Oh my God." softly whispers Giles as his mind registers to him what it is that he is seeing. "Let's get the hell out of here and back to the barn!" roars Giles as he slams his throttle to the stops and quickly reverses his course as his squadron follows suit.
"Is that what I think it is," nervously asks Vasquez as the rest of her section form up around her.
"Yeah. I think so," he replies sadly. "We'll have to worry about the patrol group later. we've got to let command know what we've found here," he says as he quickly keys his comm.
"Base One. this is Marauder Lead. Base One. this is Marauder Lead. C'mon. somebody answer me gawddamnmit!" His urgent signal is beamed back towards the relays and is boosted to compensate for the planetary shadow. Within seconds, his message is received.
"Marauder Lead this is Base One. Send your traffic.over."
"Base One. we have spotted a large, unidentified mass moving towards our target zone! Possible unknown Zerg brood inbound! Repeat. new Zerg brood inbound!"
"Say again Marauder Lead? Did you say new Zerg brood? That's not possible. we haven't picked up anything on long-range scans or from our sensor outposts. Please confirm your sighting."
"It's f***ing right below us now! We're looking at an enormous brood heading right for the New Vista colony! I'm sending you our imaging feeds with this transmission so move your fat ass and get the word out," viciously snaps Giles at the idiotic tech on the comm.
"Yes sir," quickly responds the tech, "new Zerg brood inbound towards New Vista. Strength unknown at present. Understood sir," adds the tech as the comm goes silent.
***
On board the Mengsk's Fist, the ill news is quickly received and brought to the attention of those in command.
"General we just received a report from the 1024th fighter squadron," states Captain Brandis, "I think you might want to take a look at this."
"What've you got Sam," casually asks Ames as he walks over to the comm station. "Did that boy manage to find our missing patrol?"
"I'm afraid they didn't get that far sir," says Brandis as he hands over the datapad. "They brought back something worse instead."
Ames studies his expression briefly before he takes the offered datapad. It takes only a moment before his eyes immediately grow fiery and his knuckles turn white with rage.
"WHERE IN THE HELL DID THEY COME FROM!" roars Ames.
"We don't know sir," nervously replies a nearby fleet intelligence officer. "I suspect they probably came in through one of the holes in the sensor net."
"Holes in the net? If you knew there were holes son why didn't you do anything about it?" angrily asks Ames as he puffs on his cigar.
"We didn't think it was a priority. What with the Zerg almost gone. sir," offers the officer meekly.
Ames immediately fixes the young officer with a vicious glare as he walks right up to him and places his face only a few centimeters from his. When he speaks his voice has a cold edge to it as he jabs his finger into the chest of the officer.
"For that brilliant act you can consider yourself relieved from duty as of right now, Commander," growls Ames. "Your stupidity may have just cost us this battle and the lives of those men and women down there," he adds as he points out towards the planet below.
"Get the hell out of my sight!"
The young officer, his face an ashen white, quickly snaps off a weak salute and then leaves the command center in disgrace; the eyes of those on duty following him out.
"What's the estimated time before that brood reaches our ground forces?"
A new image is created on the central display and zooms in on the projected Zerg brood. "Estimations are still firming up sir but if they keep at their current rate. they should be making contact in less that thirty minutes," replies a tactical officer.
Ames swears loudly as he moves to examine the massive image closer. His forehead wrinkles slightly as he concentrates on the displayed data and attempts to draw up a reaction plan to the new threat. When he finally speaks it's in a tone that demands attention.
"Colonel Stewart," bellows Ames. "Tell those boys down there to hurry up and clear that zone ASAP and have the reserves brought up too. looks like we're gonna need them after all. Have them move to this point," he states as he places his finger on a section of space.
"Yes sir," replies Stewart as he and the rest of the command staff quickly move off to prepare their forces. A battle once believed to be the last for Dylar IV has just become what may be the start of another one fiercer and far more costly.
