• CHAPTER 1: Skimming over Minor Technicalities
    “We lost all radio sigs.” The technician stood there by the small communication dish, which relayed the signals of all troops. The technician looked up, her face in a crease with worry. “Do you think they made it out?”

    Sergeant Janson S. Burton knew her well. When Rachel says “if they are okay” she’s asking “if Sutkins made it”. Not the other soldiers. Damn love birds, always on top of each other whenever they can. He looked down to meet her gaze which looked as If she was going to combust into tears.

    “Yes, I’m sure he made it out safely, but in the mean time get yourself together. We have a colony to save.” Yes, the regular scenario. Colony sends distress signal, small marine detachment ends up receiving, leading to the defense of a small mining colony. Same damn story, same damn ending. Word leaks. A small battle group of roughly half a dozen troopships accompanied by a battlecruiser is not enough to stop a zerg infestation. Many are worried this is the last mission the Double Hearts will be on. 301st Company Double Hearts, the fresh off the boot soldiers, thinking they are going to be heroes. They are wrong. What the Terran government keeps from the public eye is the life expectancy of the average marine in a combat zone. Two days. Whether it’s been pure luck or the battle group is tougher then it seems, in some godly way we’ve lasted a week. That was the second squad that was lost so far. The main bulk is held at the colony capital, Darkur, that’s where currently the bigger guns are at. Few siege tanks and grenade launchers have been set up for a decent defense in the mean time. Janson pondered on all of this, and what it all will mean later on.

    Yet we are stuck miles away from the only known safe haven on this sand cracked planet tending to a mining hole that might contain survivors. The mayor pleaded us and eventually won over the colonel’s heart to attempt a search party in the caverns. Ever since we’ve gotten here in the caverns the zerg situation only grows worse. Larger zerg started showing. Even air raids of the strange mutalisks, remembered Janson. He checked the clock. The sun is setting, and the zerg might start sniffing them out, Janson got up from the generator he had been resting on.

    “Rachel, start packing the gear. We’re gonna head back, put the equipment back into the vulture.” Janson got up and helped put away the cables and extra equipment lying around the tarp they’ve laid to avoid damage from the sand.

    “But what about Sutki-“ She stopped herself, half embarrassed, “What about the rest of the squad?”

    “He’s gone Rachel. They should’ve made it by now.” The third person of the group who stayed above surface in the search party had spoken up, Kasen.

    “What? B-but… He promised…” She started to slowly sob cradling herself, continuously stuttering.

    “God dammit Kasen…” Janson smacked the back of Kasen’s head, “Nice going ******** idiot.”

    “Well somebody had to break it to her that dearest isn’t coming back in one piece.” Kasen got up and grabbed his rifle.

    Janson sighed. He couldn’t deal with this, not now. “Kasen, just grab your gear and get in the Vulture.”

    The Vulture, an older model compared the recently introduced Hellion. While it’s usually against Terran Dominion regulation, the colonel let the use of the trusty slightly modified Vulture slide past his radar. The idea of a mobile light vehicle that uses flamethrowers was ridiculous to Janson personally. The Vulture was refitted to have a rotary grenade launcher on the edge of the sleek, cone shaped vehicle. Thin and highly fast, it could easily skim over rougher terrain. Although it isn’t as heavily armored, Janson had a custom fit full 360 degree twin machine gun turret mounted on the top behind the front driver seat. A steel plow was welded to the prow of the Vulture. Janson hopped into the driver seat, attempted to crack his knuckles through the heavy power gloves and placed his hands on the driving wheel. Kasen popped into the turret with a smirk.

    “Hands at 10 and 2 Janson,” he mocked a small salute to him, “Safety first.”

    Janson grumbled a vendetta for Kasen’s constant irritation. The Vulture lurched forward, towing the small mobile station on the back which held Rachel and many fragile types of equipment. The ride was smooth, the propulsion jets paving a path or swathing sand.

    Kasen yelled over the engine, “Movement on radar!” In response sand and rubble burst in front of the Vulture, a serpentine creature with two arms ending in long scythe-like bone, and a bottom jaw which split into three ways scrambled out. The head had a huge crest creating an elongated head appearance. The large exoskeleton housing of the hydralisk, as most zerg have, peeled back as muscle tissue could be seen for a split second before the flaps shut again. Long grooved needles peppered the side of the vulture, some ricocheting off or punch straight through the side. A needle spine punctured through the cockpit halfway, the point right next to Janson’s nose.

    “Jesus Christ…” He yanked the grooved spine out continued driving. He grabbed a throttle on the side and swerved the Vulture around to face the hydralisk. He punched the button on the steering wheel and the explosive grenade canister launched from the bottom turret cracking into the hydralisk’s torso, a split second later the canister detonated showering the spot with black and deep purple remains.

    “I see more movement…” Kasen stared at the monitor, “I’m seeing…. Four more blips… Wait, no, Eight… No about a dozen….” His eyes were now wide open, his mouth agape. “Well over thirty.”

    Janson was also shocked. He shook his head and continued to drive, “Where?”

    Kasen started rattling his hands. “Everywhere.”

    Cubic tons of sand and rock was thrown into the air as more hydralisks and zerglings popped up from the surface, scrabbling after the Vulture. Foot long needle crossfire zipped through the dusty air zinging past their heads and spraying the sides of the Vulture and the tow. The ground started to quake as more and more zerglings launched themselves at the Terran search party.

    “What the hell is that? Earthquake?” Kasen yelled over the chaos, while spraying the dual machine guns at nearby targets, tearing them apart.

    Janson recalled all the info tapes telling him of the zerg subtypes. He sat there in the cockpit, then slammed on the reverse, “ULTRALISK!”

    Rock and sand were flung into the air as the back of a massive creature, easily surpassing the size of a few dozen bulldozers. A massive creature with an also massive crest on its head arching over its equally massive body, it blocked out the dying sunlight. Six legs the size of construction cranes supported the looming creature, the mouth and eyes were barely visible as massive tusks protruded from the sides, equal to the length of the creature. They swung side to side, sweeping up small dust storms where nothing inside was visible.

    “HOLY s**t!” Kasen continued to scream curses as Janson held down the reverse sending them as far back as possible. “Where are you going?!”

    Janson yelled over the roaring of the ultralisk and smaller brethren, “Away from that thing!” They shot straight through a massive sandstorm stirred up by the revealing of the ultralisk. He hit the brakes as they came to an edge of a deep canyon, the Vulture slid almost falling off. The tow unfortunately snapped off plummeting over the edge down the canyon. “RACHEL!” Janson looked in horror.

    Her screaming echoed off the canyon as she fell thousands of feet to her death. A zergling leapt at them attempting to gouge Janson, but Kasen quickly swerved around and opened fire, barraging the zergling with 12mm gauss-powered needles, turning it into a dark purple pulpy mess. The mess splattered across Janson, causing him to swerve erratically.
    “You okay ther-“ Gunfire cut into Kasen’s sentence, “-Call Darkur!” He let loose a few more bursts into nearby pursuing zerglings.

    “I’m good, I’ll call in now…” Janson grabbed the radio and prayed that the people over at Darkur aren’t complete morons and have pity on their lives.






    //DARKUR COMHQ: [Following was recordings of a radio call in by Sergeant Janson S. Burton]//

    Sergeant Burton: “Requesting-” (Static)

    Private Engineer Gerald: “I’m sorry please repeat Sergeant Burton.”

    Sergeant Burton: “EVAC NOW” (Gunfire)

    Private Engineer Gerald: “All dropships are currently in for repairs, I’m sorry Sergeant Burton, and you will have to make it back to the checkpoint. Do you require the coordinates?”

    Sergeant Burton: “No! I-“ (Explosion) “-EED GODDAMN EVAC.”

    Private Engineer Gerald: “I’m sorry Sergeant, there is not much we can do right now…”

    Sergeant Burton: “God help us all.” (Static)

    Private Engineer Gerald: “Sergeant Burton?” (Only static)
    Sergeant Janson S. Burton presumed M.I.A. temporarily.

    //END TRANSMISSION//





    “********!” Janson’s ankle was growing increasingly sore from holding down the forward pedal for a prolonged period of time with such pressure. He swerved to the left, avoiding a blur of boned blades of a hydralisk, while Kasen emptied out the remainder of the ammo in the cartridge.

    “Janson! Where’s the ammo boxes?!” Kasen patted around his surroundings looking for the familiar grip of another casing cartridge.

    “Not sure,” Pressure and heat emanated from the right as the canister exploded inside another hydralisk, “Keep looking, there’s bound to be another somewhere!” Janson continued to run through the broods of zerg in his way, cleaving some in half with the steal wedge he blow torched on to the front. By now the Vulture was splashed with an assortment of dark crimson red and deep purple splotches, both from the deaths of different zerg types.

    Another hydralisk revealed its hiding spot, and opened fire, spraying spines at the passing Vulture. Three thudded into the side, the fourth slashed open a gash into Janson’s arm, snapping through the armor like paper. Blood splashed on to the steering wheel, making it slippery under his grasp. Janson cried out as the muscles tore, each time the Vulture rocked, the grooved barbed spine would cut in further.

    “******** this!” Kasen knelt down and grabbed the regular issued gauss rifle, giving up on the find for the turret cartridges, and pumped out rounds into nearby zerg.

    Sunlight kept flashing off as Janson realized they were shadows darting in the sky. Mutalisks, Janson shook his head, “We pissed off the goddamn hive”. The screeching filled the air as Kasen cried out suddenly. Janson glanced up and saw a mutalisk flailing down and cupped up Kasen in the mouth, a sickening snap resonated and he saw two parts of Kasen falling from the sky. Janson cursed out loud. The mutalisk, commonly noticed to look like scorpion’s tail, a curved stinger with wings that come straight from the fairy tale books of dragons. Strange enough, their mouth is located on the bottom end of the metaphorical “tail” and the eyes placed on the top of the “tail”. Janson remembered nearly every drop of the zerg briefings. He punched the cruise function on the Vulture and jumped over to the turret. He kicked up the ammo cartridge, slid it home and opened up on the mutalisks with the machine gun turret, with the Vulture still moving across the desert. Eventually the spikes punctured the leathery wings and a few fell screeching towards the planet surface.

    Janson slid back into the cockpit and continued to steer, the zerg pursuers now diminishing. He gained enough distance. He finally got away. Pulled up the visor on his suit and ran his hand through his hair, and took an explosive sigh at the realization of what he just survived.