"Hi there.. I'm hiding from a 30 year old women... I promised her we would meet today IRL"
-Breeze
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| Phoenix Legion Chronicles: Part VII | | | Author: | | | IP: | XXXX | | Date: | 08/30/99 01:08 | | Game Type: | Starcraft | | Labels: | Famous Reporter(1), Starcraft(1), Old Classic(1), Text Only(1), Fan Fiction(1), Series(1) | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 8, Min: 8
Lifetime Rating for .Praetor: 8.2987 |  | Well, I'm finally writing another installment here. Enforcerman has recently put up chapters four and five for the Phoenix Legion main story (www.sclegacy.com/phoenix/).
Though oddly enough, the PL main page does not link to them. They're there though. I may slow down on writing Phoenix Legion (fear not, Chapter 6 is two-thirds done). In
large part because I've started a Warcraft story as well (though not devoting too much time to it). Any particular War2 site you guys visit more than others? And there are always the other stories I write...
Mark4 or Johnny, the last PL: Chronicles installment was
accidentaly listed as a ladder game. Could you change that to Other with Johnny's new handy-dandy report editor?
For those of you who need reminding, the Legion is fighting on Ashrigo with a Protoss army, Daggoth's forces, and a pirate group. At present, it holds the 9:00 and 6:00 expansions, as well as the southwest main and natural. The Legion is also preparing an attack on the Fourrier island. If you have not read any of the Chronicle installments before, go to the Other category or search for praetor. I suspect there are a bunch of you, since this is my first post-YRM-news-item installment.
Whew, here goes:
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Orbiting around a planet that hides behind a protective asteroid belt, the moon of Ashrigo is in constant twilight. Despite this, most of the Legion's forces have not needed to employ the night vision technology on its visors or
sensors. Resembling the Hell many Christians belive in, Ashrigo provides its own light.
South of a rich island in the center of the battlefield, a Legion camp is a good example of this phenomenon. Near a lava moat, the top of the camp is bathed in a reddish
luminescence. The flat volcanic plain extending along the moat is adequately lit for miles, ensuring that the sentries will catch any living thing approaching from the
wastelands.
Below the camp, long shadows darken the ground, stretched silhouettes of tents and Goliath battlewalkers. Eight of the large machines cast their shadows. Keeping watch over lower approaches are two transports, each with a massive floodlight, keeping watch for intruders. Two round science vessels keep a silent vigil over the area as well, lending their sensors to searching the dark areas.
One of the transports is a new arrival, bringing additional might to the camp. At first only the noises of large engines betray the newcomers, but they soon make their way through the alleys of the camp, and emerge into the hellish light cast by the moat of molten rock. The two tanks roll to the left of the tents and patrolling walkers, finally halting. A new tent goes up, nearby, and several workers
wearing enviornmental suits organize the ammunition that the tanks will need for their purpose.
The complex machinery of the tanks whir and moan, forcing past grease sand and rock in gears, and feet emerge from the two tanks, fastening themselves into the ground. Massive Arclite gun barrels emerge from the tanks, swiveling towards the direction of the island.
Far above the moon of Ashrigo, a sattelite bearing the streaking form of a rising Phoenix uncovers its lens and reveals the Fourrier defenses on the island itself.
For the first time since the camp was created, the legthy shadows flicker, disappearing twice.
The tanks, having taken their range from the comsat scan, reload their cooling barrels. The shells they fired fly over the moat, disappearing into the distance.
Minutes later, an odd whistling sound announces the arrival of counter-battery fire.
Too fast to be seen, the enemy shell impacts in front of the western tank, throwing up a fountain of rock and dust, clouding the area.
Before the dust settles, the Legion tanks fire again, twice illuminating the cloud. When the dust settles, the tank's front resembles a broken rod of metal, the shell having crushed most of the frontal armour. The forward foot has completely disappeared, and the tank lies over a crater.
***
"Confirming counter-fire from the island! There is a tank there!" Sergeant Ummox is tense, having to deal with an unexpected element in the attack.
"Put a matrix on that tank." I just hope a science vessel can respond before the tank dies. "Recon, give me another scan of the area. And Ummox, see if you can get the tanks to track the incoming fire and give the enemy some fun too." I point at the offier in charge of that camp. "Major Renault, load up four goliaths into one of those transports. Now!" I rub my eyes. I need more than a few hours of sleep, and soon. "Ummox, have that other tank matrixed as well. Don't want the enemy to start firing on it instead."
"Yes sir, and the first tank is severely damaged, its range has been reduced, but it can still fire."
"Got it. Major, matrix that transport, and send it in. Make sure the pilot has a parachute. I want the same science vessel following the transport in, putting a matrix on the first goliath out." Resistance wasn't expected to be this stiff. The original comsat had detected missile turrets and a bunker only on the island. A transport had been in the air though. "Make sure you put the transport in where we got the one turret."
The Major is about to nod when he freezes, interrupted by a loud klaxon. The computer's neutral voice intrudes upon the operations center. "Warning. Nuclear Launch Detected."
"Shit!," and other various obscenites are uttered all over the room. All troops are automatically notified to search for the aiming laser. I breath a silent thanks that the laser must be visible to guide the missile itself.
Too many people seem to be trying to supervise search procedures. "Comsat to anyone who needs it. But get back on track! There are still other jobs to do." Ummox is the first to nod, going back to supervising the artillery battle. To keep my mind on the whole battle, I put the transport view on screen, with a situation map on the tiny computer attached to my chair.
The perimiter of the island is sparsely defended with missile turrets. The initial two volleys from the Legion tanks had opened up a hole in the defense, where a transport can approach and land troops within the defensive area of one turret. One Fourrier tank remains on the island, heavily damaged.
On the main screen, the transport is flying low, passing by boiling lava quickly. It's much safer for a transport to fly high, but not when troops must be dropped off. The transport is reaching the edge of the island. The cliffs do not look stable. As I watch, part of the cliff face crumbles, and falls over into the lava. I suppose the island will eventually be consumed entirely.
Watching the cliffside, I am rather startled as the view shakes somewhat, and there is a flash of blue energy on the right side of the screen. The ship continues forward, looking to land on flat ground. Another shake, this one pushes the transport down a bit. Apparently, the pilot has wandered too close to another missile turret. The transport swerves to the right, putting one of the turrets in view. A large missile is ejected from the turret, its rocket suddenly catching, and it picks up speed on its way in. The missile comes straight for the transport, and hits it dead on. The screen in the command center becomes almost entirely blue, the intesity of the light disparate, and rapidly changing.
The view becomes normal again, and I can see the turret slowly turning its 'head,' the part that gives it its name. Another missile hits, but the transport has made it to the island, and begins to drop off the goliaths. "Back to the situation screen." The Fourrier tank is gone. The goliaths actually step by its wreckage, behind a slight hill. A good move on the enemy tank's part. The protection allowed it to survive a great many of our shells. At the camp, Ummox has called up two SCV's from the southern base to rescue the heavily damaged tank.
On the island, the four goliaths landed safely, the lead in the bunch with a matrix around it. The transport is gone. The goliaths advance on the bunker. The matrixed walker goes in first, positioning himself much closer than the others. This not only gets the marines inside to fire at him, but allows for more maneuvering room for the other goliaths.
A minor officer, currently occupied in supervising the far southern base, speaks up. "Sir, one of the marines in my bunkers reports a flash east-northeast."
"Confirm that," Major Renault states, "my people in the camp noticed it too. Must be the nuke. Probably on the Zerg."
I nod, the Zerg are the only forces besides Fourrier in the area. "Comsat the Fourrier resource valley, and the Zerg expansion in the east valley."
The results are telling. The Fourrier valley is under heavy attack. The silo there is about to fall, and the command center is trying to float away to the main base. On the other hand, a tank is firing on the two lurkers left in the vally. Blood is visible even from the sattelite picture.
The Zerg base is in even worse shape. The nuke must have landed dead on the hatchery, because it is bleeding heavily, the reinforced hide bearing huge cracks along the spike of the structure. A transport is also there, dropping off marines onto the creep, while a tank blasts the hatchery from the nearby cliff.
My heart stops for a moment. The klaxons are back. "Warning. Nuclear launch detected." Two seconds later, "Warning. Nuclear launch detected. Warning. Nuclear launch detected." This time no one swears, or panics. We all sit in dread.
"Find them!" I am as worried as the rest of them. If it wasn't for the idle science vessels around the main base, I would be worried about for own life, rather than just my men.
The south base commander speaks up again. "Found one! Near the SCV's and Command Center, south base."
"Scan the area! And retreat the SCV's!" The situation screen already shows them fleeing. A construction suit hovering at full speed has about a fifty-fifty chance of running from the center of a nuclear explosion in the time it takes to drop.
Mind racing, I check the island, finding my goliaths victorious. Losing only one of their number, the bunker has been razed, and the last marine is under attack. "Ummox, make your first priority the missile turrets. Major, send him four more goliaths when you can." I don't care if the Fourrier Command Center floats away. From the nuclear warfare, he probably has extra in his base already.
I switch the screen back to the south base. Watching with horror, I realize that the SCV's mad dash was futile from the beginning. The first missile launched lands squarely on the bunkers, obliterating the SCV's and the marine's protection, as well as the missile turret. The second nuclear missile falls seconds after, killing the exposed marines and finishing the command center. Only a burning refinery watches vigil now.
I close my eyes and breath in and out quickly, trying not to think of the deaths, whether inside the southern command center or out. "Recall the two repairing SCV's when they are done, and begin rebuilding the base."
I turn to Major Renault, "Major, strike camp. I want you to take eight marines and two tanks from our base here, and walk them over to your camp, then move to the ridge outside Zerg territory. Production, I want more tanks, and start some marines and two battle cruisers." It is becoming increasingly obvious that an excessive amount of force is going to be necessary to win this little war. "Did anyone see the third flash?" No one knows where the last nuke hit. "Ummox, take the surviving transport and ferry some SCV's from the main base here over to the island. Set up a defense with turrets and the goliaths there. Then get busy and mine. Headquarters liason, I want upgrades. Get better plating from those bureaucrats on Haven. All kinds. See if you can get them to ship Yamato guns with the cruisers I ordered."
My head slips back against the chair, and I relax. I was tenser than I thought from the nuclear warnings. I relax too much. The lack of sleep gets to me, as well as the loss of an entire base in a few minutes, counting aiming. "Major, what happened to that transport pilot?"
Renault looks back at me, surprised, "he's fine sir."
Thank goodness for small mercies. "I'm going to sleep. Get me up the instant I'm needed."
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I was reading comments on some report or other, way down there now. YRM asked why StarCraft became so hot in Korea. One person mentioned the cyber cafes, which is probably a big thing. But I notice that stuff like this is sort of random. You know, like slang words catching on.
I'm a fan of ancient Mediterranean history (you all knew that, I hope. Long live the Pyrrhic victory!), so now and again I play a game of AoE (horribly balanced) on the Zone (shudder). For some reason, the game is very popular in Brazil. Go fig...
What I find amazing is that not only did StarCraft catch on in Korea, but Koreans out number Americans on B.net now, at like EIGHT to ONE. Better hope the Koreans don't start asking Blizzard to ban all the Americans from b.net, instead of the other way around.
Yes, you're right, I couldn't think of anything to put in the end part. Oh well, comments please, and how do you like the third-person beginning? |
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