The dim glow of yellow battle-lamps was enough to distinguish the outlines of figures in the command center within, but not enough for Commander Breitkopff to discern features. There were more than a dozen shadowy figures—crouched over maps and holo-displays, staring at datapad reports, or gazing out the tiny window slits. Breitkopff dodged a marine officer on his way out and came to the center of the room, where the lights shone more directly onto the assembled soldiers.
“What is it Breitkopff?”
One of the figures at the main battle map stood from his crouching position, revealing a tall, proud demeanor, a crisp uniform, and a half smoked cigar clenched in his teeth.
“Scout report from Sector 12,” she replied, “you wanted to see it as soon as it came in, General.”
“Yes, thank you. Now, report!” his reply was terse and strained. The battle had been joined three weeks ago, and now the situation was turning desperate. General Latimer of the UED had only half of the forces he had started with. From all accounts, the enemy had suffered tremendous casualties—10 to 1; yet they kept coming and coming.
Susana Breitkopff cleared her throat, “Well, sir, that group of Zerg forces that disappeared two days ago has reappeared, along with a number of newcomers—they’re almost twice the numbers that we last calculated, and they’re now moving south from this point,” she placed a slender finger on the battle map, “from the estimated speed, they should reach our front lines in two hours, here, at Echo Station 50.”
Breitkopff gestured toward the green lines that were stretched across a canyon, directly in the path of the approaching Zerg. At the base of the canyon was a small green circle, with two lonely flags next to it.
“What do we have there,” Latimer demanded, waving his hand at a nearby officer.
“Uh, that’s a recon supply base. Nothing there but a platoon of marines and a couple squadrons of scout bikes,” the Ops officer replied.
“We’ll have to reinforce them, what do we have?”
“That’s a problem, sir,” Breitkopff broke in, “the main body of Zerg forces have been launching intermittent attacks all along the line. If we send significant reinforcements from nearby, the main line might break.”
“What about this?” Latimer said, pointing to a pair of green flags well behind the front line.
“That’s the 41st heavy infantry company, sir,” Ops interjected, “and this, is the special commando unit, Blue Six.”
“How soon could they be at Echo 50?”
“Approximately 70 minutes, sir. But I have to warn you, the 41st is behind the lines because they got beat up bad in a firefight last night. They’ve lost their commanding officer, and are awaiting a new command staff. And they’re down to ten tanks.”
“I see,” Latimer said, puffing thoughtfully on the stub between his teeth. He stared at the map for 30 seconds, trying to find alternatives. But the scant reserves were all at the front. The decision was rather obvious. “Who’s in command of Blue Six?”
“Lieutenant Georgeson.”
“Is he cleared for tactical nukes?”
“Yes, sir, all of his team is,”
“Very well, give Georgeson command of the 41st and send it to Echo 50 at top speed. Send word ahead to the garrison of Echo 50 to begin preparing defensive positions. Air Marshall?”
Another figure who was busy at the holo-display straightened, “General?”
“I need everything you can spare to defend Sector 12. Send a coordination officer to Echo Station 50 to assist in air-strike coordination. Are those two battlecruisers still in orbit?”
“Yes sir, but one of them is badly damaged from the last encounter with Zerg air units and—“
“You’ve got 60 minutes to repair it,” Latimer cut him off, “Then I want you to send them to high altitude over Sector 12!”
“Of course, General. I can give you three squadrons of fighters, but they won’t be much good against ground units.”
“Just keep harassing their air units, Marshall, that’s all I ask. Breitkopff?”
Commander Breitkopff snapped to attention, she had thought her part in all this was over. “Sir?”
“I want you to take this intel report and meet up with Lieutenant Georgeson en route. You’ll provide the defense with tactical analysis.”
“They need your report more than I do, Breitkopff, now get going.”
On the digital map between them, the green flag marked “41c HVY INF” had already begun inching its way toward Sector 12. There was a renewed buzz of activity in the command center as Latimer’s orders were carried out, the Air Marshall’s gruff voice piercing the surrounding texture like a knife, “That’s right, you’ve got 60 minutes to repair whatever you can and get those laser cannons back online. After that, you better be at 40,000 feet over Sector 12!”
Breitkopff took all this in, inhaled deeply to sum up her courage, and wordless exited the command center with a salute. Latimer nodded, and his gaze returned to the map. A huge mass of red was baring down on his thin green lines. Would they have enough firepower to hold?
The Air Marshall and two other command officers crowded around Latimer to see the situation. “Echo 50 is the key,” the General murmured, taking a futile puff on the cigar that had gone cold during the meeting, “It’s got to be held at all costs.” He looked suddenly over at the Comm station to his right, “Comm, get me Admiral DuGalle.”
* * *
Lieutenant Tori Georgeson had the sleek gaunt physique of all Terran specialists, a cold look in his eyes, and an edge to his voice. Like the other nine members of the elite commando squad Blue Six, Georgeson was wearing a form-fitting cloak suit, one of the most secret military products of the UED command. Functioning both as armor and weapon, the suit could make the wearer completely invisible to enemy units. The only catch was that the energy required far exceeded what the little fist-sized generators could produce, and the suit was only good for a few minutes before it would have to recharge. But a few minutes were all the lethal members of Blue 6 usually needed.
Georgeson was perched atop a massive siege tank, along with a handful of marines as the column rumbled down the dusty supply road toward the west. Behind Georgeson’s tank the column stretched back and around the bend, several ammo trucks and a group of Goliath air-defense walkers bringing up the rear, just in view. Ahead of the lead tank, the company’s recon squad of four hovercycles dashed back and forth, first close to the column, then stretching well ahead of it, scouring the countryside for any unforeseen surprises. The land here was barren and rocky, hot in the daytime and cold at night. Much of the vegetation that had existed in these sectors had been blasted away during the weeks of battle. Only a few scrawny trees and shrubs remained, along with a few determined insects, which had taken a high toll from frustrated Terran marines because of their passing similarities to the nefarious enemy.
Battling the Zerg was a brutal endeavor; it required tremendous levels of strength and tenacity. For they kept attacking, kept fighting, kept multiplying. UED scientists had determined that the basic Zerg warriors hatched and reached mature fighting stature in less than four days. And even worse, they often adapted. After several generations, they would be faster, tougher, deadlier. Bullets ran out, armor busted, but the Zerg just kept coming.
Georgeson constantly tracked the horizon with his sharp eyes, and always was aware of the tactical monitor on his wristband that indicated the unit’s position and the position of known friendly and enemy units in the area. At this moment, a cluster of green dots were all that registered.
Just then, Georgeson spotted a dot on the horizon, off to the left of the column. It was black, tiny, and fast, moving toward them. Within a few seconds, the speck had become a blob, and then morphed into the recognizable squat form of an airborne transport. Georgeson assumed that it was headed for the front, but to his mild surprise, the dropship slowed, hovered near the column, and two figures jumped out onto the dusty road. The column had already stopped, and Georgeson stood to accept the salute of the two hooded figures below him.
“I’m Lieutenant Tori Georgeson, Blue Six and 41st Heavy Infantry,” he said.
“Commander Susana Breitkopff, and Flight Warrant Officer Jan Christian,” the lead figure said, “I’m here as your tactical adviser, and he’s your air coordination officer.” They were shouting to be heard over the whine of the transport’s engines, but before Breitkopff’s introductions had finished, the dropship was already speeding away eastward.
“Glad to have you along, Breitkopff. What’s the situation?” Georgeson said gruffly.
“Echo Station 50 is in danger of being over-run by the Zerg,” Breitkopff said, “If it falls, they have a straight shot to the rear, and they can surround our entire position. The 41st is the only unit that can be spared at this time to reinforce Echo 50, but large air elements, including ywo battlecruisers, have also been assigned to support you. Also, I’m told that you have tactical nuke clearance.”
“That’s true,” Georgeson said, “the only problem is that we’ve only got two tactical nukes left. We used up most of them in the initial assault.”
Three weeks earlier, General Latimer’s forces had preceded their landing with 2 dozen tactical nukes that had wiped out a huge Zerg hatchery cluster, as well as most of the visible Zerg ground units. The fact that the Zerg still had such strong forces indicated that another hatchery cluster was located on the planet— but recon teams, air and space-borne reconnaissance had failed to locate more than a few isolated hatcheries; not enough to explain the huge numbers of Zerg reinforcements they were facing.
“We’ll have to make them count, then,” Breitkopff smiled.
“So we will.”
The three officers continued to discuss the tactical situation for a moment, while the convoy steadily made its way toward the western edge of the Terran lines. A roar overhead indicated the presence of a flight of UED fighters, but with their cloak shields active, only a slight blurring of the air in their wake was visible. The howling jets quickly dissipated toward the north.
Eerie stillness surrounded the company as it continued through desolate country. Before long, the column had entered the eastern end of the canyon that was its destination. On the western mouth of the canyon, lonely Echo Station 50 awaited their arrival.
Suddenly, on the Comm, Georgeson heard the tense voice of one of the company’s scouts. “Lieutenant, we’ve got trouble, Zerg units spotted ahead, coordinates—“ the voice drowned in static. Georgeson looked down at his tactical display and plotted the location of the scout, half a mile ahead of them. A red dot appeared briefly on the tac display, and then both the red dot and the green scout disappeared.
“All units,” Georgeson shouted at the Comm, “we’ve got Zerg ahead of us. Stay sharp. Recon units, return to main column at once.”
Grumbled responses came in through the Comm as the previously lethargic marines sprung into action. All the infantry units on the tanks leapt off, and scanned the sky and the surrounding terrain carefully. The column continued cautiously forward while reports from the other scouts came in on the Comm.
“There!” a marine shouted, firing a blast from his Gauss assault rifle. Screeching in at low altitude, just above the road was a flying Zerg, its leathery wings beating hard and propelling it at breakneck speed.
“Goliaths to the front,” Georgeson managed to order before the din of rifle-fire drowned out his voice on the Comm. The Zerg flyer had a pig-like snout and was covered in a greasy mucus-like substance that dripped from its wings and splattered on the ground ahead of them. It opened its jaws and let out a terrifying shriek, diving toward the first row of marines.
The rifle-fire was wounding the creature, but not fast enough, and from pores on the sides of its mouth, the flyer emitted a basketball-sized projectile that struck the first marine and decapitated him. The projectile bounced once, striking another marine in the arm, and ricocheted again, tripping a third marine. The creature swooped to the left of the column, tracked by rifle-fire, until it was suddenly blotted from the sky in a massive explosion. The Goliaths had gotten within range.
The triumph was short-lived, however, as before the Zerg flyer had struck the ground, the dusty terrain around the column began to rumble, and a swarm of Zerg erupted from hiding places just below the ground.
In the confusion Breitkopff saw Zerg everywhere, tanks firing, rifles cracking, and the ravenous creatures howling through it all. One Zerg attacker got its sights on the Commander and charged at her. With nothing else to do, she pulled out her service pistol and fired until the cartridge was empty, but it didn’t phase the beast as it closed in, it’s claws aimed at her neck . . . until abruptly the creature jerked sideways, away from the Commander and into a ditch at the side of the road; where it lay quivering for a moment before dying.
As quickly as it had begun the attack was over. Two marines were down, one wounded, and one tank had taken some damage from the frightful claws. The air around Breitkopff shimmered, and suddenly Georgeson and three of his Special Commandos appeared out of thin air, having disengaged their cloaking shields. Their sniper rifles were still smoking.
“Thanks,” she said, tersely.
“Your welcome,” he replied, likewise.
“Look sir, above the road, Zerg flyer!” a marine shouted. Georgeson and Breitkopff turned to see a massive insect-like creature floating in the air ahead of them, moving slowly towards the north.
“The Zerg use those to transport ground beasts, much like a dropship,” Georgeson explained. “They also have the wonderful characteristic of being able to detect cloaked units. We still don’t know how. That one must have gotten through our air defenses and set this charming little trap for us.” He waved a hand at the Goliaths, who rushed forward and unleashed a barrage of missiles at the retreating beast. To Breitkopff’s surprise, it exploded in a massive fireball.
Georgeson noticed the surprise in her face and smiled, “We used to wonder how exactly those big beasts just float around up there. Then we discovered that those ‘overlord’ things have a gland that naturally secretes hydrogen gas into a massive inner sac. They’ve got thick armored skin, but if you get through that . . .”
A marine wearing an incinerator suit walked hurriedly forward to Georgeson.
“Lieutenant, we’ve got three dead, and three more wounded, and one tank that’s damaged enough that it’ll need some repairs. Other than that we’re good to go.”
“Alright, corporal, put the dead at the side of the road and retrieve their weapons. As soon as the road is clear, we’ll move out.” The lieutenant’s orders were executed in only a few minutes, and the wary column set forth again. Georgeson spotted a marine hauling three rifles and stopped him. He grabbed one and handed it to Breitkopff.
“In case you need it again,” he said, sneering.
She grabbed hold of the stock and cocked the trigger back in response, wiping a trickle of blood off the handle with her sleeve.
* * *
By the time the column reached Echo Station 50, the leading elements of the Zerg force were already within scanner range. The barren outpost had a barracks for the 20-odd marines that formed its garrison, several bunker positions, and a double row of shelters for the Vulture scout hovercycles that were the base’s reason for existence. To the left of the road was a small command center, where the base’s maintenance crews lived. Surrounding the position were several missile turrets that tracked the sky continuously.
In front of the bunkers was a trench that had been hastily dug by the marines. The fresh dirt and rock that had been dug up had been plowed into redoubts from which the tanks could have good protection. As the column entered the base perimeter, several of the scout bikes exited their shelters and headed out past the front lines.
“What are they up to?” Flight Warrant Officer Christian mused.
“Laying down spider mines in the valley ahead,” Breitkopff answered, “every scout bike is equipped with a minelayer, and let me tell you, those spider mines are nasty. They have a proximity sensor that alerts them to incoming troops, and then they skitter up and detonate. The explosion could easily take out a Goliath.”
The air coordinator nodded approvingly.
As the column came to a halt next to the barracks, a marine sergeant came out. “You Georgeson?” he asked quickly.
“Yes,” Georgeson responded.
“We’ve got twenty one marines here, four incinerator suits, and twelve Vultures. We’ve got enough bunkers for my men, but most of yours will have to go in the trenches. You got any medics?"
“Six, along with 87 marines, eight Goliaths, and ten tanks. I’ll send my scout bikes to go lay mines with yours.”
“Good. I’ve got a couple wounded men that could use attention. Damn Zerg got my last medic yesterday. It was a broodling. You ever see a man eaten alive from the inside out?” the marine sergeant leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.
“Yes,” Georgeson replied, “three times. Good men. Thank you sergeant, get back to your men. And get me some mechanics to work on this tank. Corporal!”
“Yessir,” the incinerator-clad marine saluted.
“Deploy the men in those trenches. Make sure the incinerators are well spaced. And get a medic over to the barracks.”
“Yes sir,” the marine responded. He turned around and shouted to the milling marines, “Let’s rock and roll!”
As the infantry began to disburse, Georgeson activated his Comm, “Master Sergeant Adams, I want two tanks in the center of camp, well back from the trenches, and six on the line. The other two up on those cliffs to either side. Set up the Goliaths near the front, we’ll need their firepower to support the infantry. And I need that damaged tank repaired yesterday!”
The tank sergeant grunted in reply, and the tanks had quickly dispersed to their positions. With a terrible shriek of grinding metal, huge steel girders slide out from the hull of the nearest tank, planting themselves firmly into the rocky soil. The big dual-gun lifted skyward and revealed the massive main weapon of the tank, a thirty foot gun barrel almost equal to the entire length of the chassis stretched out and began to traverse the horizon, scanning for targets. Before long this process had been repeated nine times, while the tenth tank was attended to by a swarm of mechanics, trying to repair the damaged braces that prevented the tank from using its main weapon.
With the troops dispersed, Breitkopff started for the command center nearby. Georgeson grabbed her arm. “Not this time, we’re making our headquarters the secondary trench up by the front lines,” he said, gesturing toward a hole in the ground.
“Are you crazy, we’ve got aircraft to coordinate here!” Christian said, aghast.
“Yeah, and the first thing the Zerg attack is the forward command center. We want to be able to coordinate air-strikes for longer than five minutes here,” Georgeson replied gruffly.
The three officers reluctantly climbed into the trench, while Christian began setting up communications gear. Breitkopff unfolded her electronic map and activated the holo-display. A three- dimensional display of the surrounding terrain with up-to-date positions of the human positions popped up. The massive red blotch of the Zerg attack was approaching fast. Out in front of it, the scout bikes were frantically laying mines, putting themselves in ever more danger.
“This position is perfect for defense,” Breitkopff said, “If only we had more troops.”
“Nothing we can do about that,” Georgeson said tersely, as Christian muttered something on the Comm, “But I do have a few surprises for them.” he activated his Comm, “Blue Six, switch to frequency 846.”
