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The Battle for Echo 50: Part II
“Captain Gorchev, we have restored power to the Yamato Cannon, but if we shoot, we might take the atmospheric engines offline indefinitely,” came the sullen report over the Comm.
Gorchev looked over the demolished command deck, at the dozens of wounded attending to at their posts, because no-one was available to take their places. This brave crew had already sacrificed so much . . .
“Lieutenant, target the overlord cluster with the Yamato Cannon, and prepare to fire on my mark. All non-essential crew to the evacuation pods immediately, abandon ship at once.”
The bridge crew was silent, absorbing the meaning of those orders.
“Anyone here who does not wish to stay at his post may leave,” Gorchev thundered angrily. A few forlorn figures hesitated, but none left. Despite his rage, Gorchev could not help feeling some pride for this magnificent crew. Now they would prove themselves for the last time.
“Lieutenant, vector maneuvering thrusters, I want us directly over no-man’s land when we fire.”
“Aye, Captain.”
For several tense moments the crew waited, as the ship limped over the Zerg positions. “Captain, we’re in place,” the lieutenant reported.
Another junior officer, with a bandage over her eye said, “Captain, all evacuation pods have left. All non-essential crew has been evacuated.”
“Very well, Lieutenant Rimsky, you may fire when ready,”
* * *
The next wave of Zerg warriors had crested the hill, and was met by the thundering power of the siege tanks. They were slowly making their way toward the trench, struggling over the charred remains of their brethren, and through the earth that had been churned by the continuous fire. Once again, the marines opened fire, and the fight resumed.
Overhead, out from the clouds, a battlecruiser suddenly appeared, less than ten thousand feet high and moving very slowly toward the Zerg lines. The ship came about, pointed directly north, and paused for a moment, before a blinding flash erupted from its bow. In the distance, another flash could be seen, as the cluster of hydrogen-filled overlords met their fiery end.
“That’s it, we’re clear,” shouted Christian.
“Blue Six boys, this is Georgeson, drop ‘em.” came a voice from the air next to Breitkopff. A faint reply could be heard over Georgeson’s Comm. “I hear that,”
In the distance, the battlecruiser had begun to spiral towards the ground.
“Christian, what’s happening,” Breitkopff asked.
“When Invincible fired her Yamato Cannon, she blew out her atmospheric thrusters. Now she’s crashing into the Zerg.” Christian’s normally sallow face belied an expression of sorrow, as they watched the huge ship descend onto the Zerg.
For such a massive fireball, there was remarkably little sound as the ship disintegrated. Maybe the roar of battle around them merely made one more faint explosion inaudible.
But the fireball was soon follows by two larger ones, as the tactical nukes that Blue Six had targeted impacted. The flash was blinding at first, and if the marines hadn’t been wearing protective visors, they might have been blinded. The noise of these explosions was audible, and the shock wave rocked the tanks and structures back and forth like an earthquake. Above the din of the explosion, an eerie shriek rose up from the Zerg, as the firestorm incinerated the massive wave of reinforcements. Two thirds of the second attack wave had perished in a single moment. The marines had no time to celebrate however, as the Zerg warriors opposite them had not been affected by the blast, and they continued the merciless attack with renewed vigor, catching some marines by surprise.
“Zerg flyers, coming in!” a voice reported on Christian’s Comm.
“Sir, Zerg—,”
“I heard,” Georgeson said, “vector the two reserve squadrons to take care of the flyers. We’ll deal with the remaining ground warriors.”
Above them the screech of jets was plainly audible as the cloaked fighters engaged the flyers over enemy lines. But during the short-lived melee, three flyers approached from the east that weren’t accounted for, these were a new kind of flyer, and they deposited spores to three of the siege tanks on the line. One of the spores struck the tank nearest Breitkopff, less then twenty feet away. The initial impact of the spore was enough to blast a hole in the tank’s armored hull. From within came the sounds of screaming, and then two creatures the size of small dogs emerged from the smoldering tank.
“Broodlings!” shouted one marine, and a whole squad diverted their fire to these new menaces, even while some of the more formidable warriors across the field closed in.
With this distraction, a group of acid shooters got within range of a tank and pelted it with acid, again blasting the tank to pieces once the ammunition had been breached. Several marines also fell as a wave of warriors crested the trench.
But the new air units hadn’t been done, they left behind a sticky substance on the troops and fighters nearby that revealed the cloaked units to the Zerg warriors. With glave worms flying and acid burning, half the fighters were destroyed in a manner of moments.
“Tanks, concentrate your fire on the acid shooters, give the Wraiths some cover!” shouted Georgeson, his shoulder and torso partially visible with sticky goo dripping off his cloak suit. To his right, a Zerg warrior was ripping its claws into a suddenly-revealed Blue Six operative.
The remaining tanks blasted the Zerg shooters, but an all too familiar rumbling was heard by the troops as three holes suddenly appeared in front of the lines. Out of one lumbered a number of the massive beasts that had attacked before, while ordinary Zerg warriors swarmed from the other two.
“Underground. That must be where the missing Zerg hatcheries are!” Breitkopff exclaimed.
“Too bad we’re about to be over-run, or we could tell somebody,” Georgeson responded, his voice betraying the first trace of fear and regret that Breitkopff could remember.
As the Zerg warriors approached, some of the marines got up to run, while others picked up extra rifles from the bodies below so they could shoot with both hands. The siege tanks poured out their last few salvos, and . . . then an unfamiliar voice broke through on the Comm:
“Echo Station 50, standby for reinforcements!”
Overhead, breaking through the twilight clouds, there suddenly appeared a fleet of battlecruisers flying very low, with laser cannons blazing. More warships appeared, including a squadron of frigates that had quickly dispatched of the remaining Zerg flyers.
Wave after wave of fighters came in, blasting the Zerg warriors with their laser cannons, while an armada of air transports dropped off tanks, Goliaths and hundreds of marines.
Suddenly the battle was receding from them as the stunned defenders of Echo Station 50 turned to find some explanation.
A dropship hovering directly over Georgeson’s command trench soon provided it, as three figures emerged from it. The first shook hands with the bewildered Lieutenant and introduced himself.
“Lieutenant Georgeson? I’m Commander Emerson, 215th Armored Division. We’ve come to relieve you.”
“Thank you Commander. To whom do we owe this favor?”
“That would be me,” said another of the figures, stepping out from under the ship where the faint daylight could still reveal him. To his side, cigar clenched in teeth, was General Latimer, tightly smiling.
“I’m Admiral Gerard DuGalle, Lieutenant,” the man said, smiling and shaking Georgeson’s hand, “Commander of the UED fleet.”
He stopped a minute and surveyed the devastated base. Massive flames licked the sky from the burning tanks, while screams of the barely living echoed from the smashed barracks and bunkers, and from the huge piles of Zerg and human dead. Blue Six troopers were searching the bodies, finishing off injured Zerg with sickening screams.
“Excellent work here, Lieutenant,” he said, reverently.
Back to Part I
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