"Brooke proceeded to plunge herself further in illiteracy by placing such words as "AW", "AF", and "NA". For her sake, I accepted "Na" because it's an abbreviation in the elements table."
- mattzarella's Fun in the Sun
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| The Turbo Newbie Trilogy : Part 2 - Glory Daze | | | Author: | | | IP: | bc-pgr-aXXXX | | Date: | 07/19/00 12:07 | | Game Type: | Starcraft | | Labels: | none | | Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 7, Min: 7
Lifetime Rating for RhinoAssUgly: 7.8333 |  |
Read "The Turbo Newbie Trilogy : Part 1" here.
Part 2 - Glory Daze“Williams! Ferchrissake!” Not sparing a glance from the approaching Zerg, Mooley reached down and grabbed the young recruit under the arm of his cumbersome combat suit, jerking the dazed man roughly to his feet. “Use that goddamn thing!”
The peripheral mini HUD projected on the inside of Bacco’s visor flashed with highlights, the calming female voice chirping in his ears as Graves marked the incoming attackers from both the east and west. Bad. The Bugs had found them out early, in turn mobilizing with terrifying speed and precision. A troop drop further along the cliffs on his and Bik’s side of the bunk for a head on against the tank, aerial support on flank. They’d have to split fire at first to keep the tank, tower, and SCVs fully covered unless the Zerg massed for a blitz.
“You guys getting this?” Bacco hollered over the second thud of the Arclite. “My end, pounding dirt, comin’ hard!”
Mooley suddenly opened up, bellowing thickly over the sharp barks of his impaler. “Mutalisks, three, comin' in REALLY low!” The marine leaned hard under the ragged slits, firing upwards at the now passing Zerg flyers. “Williams, you little shit, do something!”
Watery hisses from above, glave worms raining down, rebounding with intent from siege tank to startled SCVs as flapping shadows slid rapidly past.
“They’re coming around, again!” Bacco barked, the repulsive flying wyrms now in his line of sight to the west but well out of range. “This side, c’mon! They’re grouping!” Bickerson’s high pitched, cat call whistling brought his eyes back from the skies as Mooley elbowed his way to see, Williams also pushing past to the western murder hole.
“Here it comes!” Bik whooped, pumping his underbarrel grenade launcher, jamming the gun through the opening without hesitation. The sound of the propelled grenade was lost in yet another blast of artillery tank fire.
With their hisses proceeding them, now backed by three charging flyers on leathery wing, over the rise they came, swarms of zergling pouring across shifting dunes just as Bickerson’s grenade exploded amongst them. Pieces of Zerg sprayed with a shower of desert. Even before the detonation, Bik was rattling off gauss fire in a wide arc, pelting up sprays of sand amidst the savage creatures.
“Twenty, at least!”
Within a second, the remaining three, William’s included as he crammed himself in low to reach the slit, opened fire on the quickly advancing horde. The creatures in the front taking the brunt screeched, still coming even as their scyth-like appendages severed and fell, torn by four simultaneous volleys of hypersonic spikes.
Crammed together like an obscenely packed firing squad, the C-14s rattled off their short, controlled bursts of 8mm, muzzle flares licking between the murder holes, spent cartridges landing soundlessly in the sands the men kicked up as they jockeyed as best they could for angels.
“I’ll hit ‘em high!”
“Low! Down, don’t let those things near the tank!”
“Styles, fuck the tower, leave it, leave it!” Bacco hissed into the comm, gritting his teeth against the numbing recoil. The rapid barks of gunfire echoed sharply in the small bunker, rebounding as if in a tin can.
Mere seconds had passed since the first shot was fired.
The mutas, having banked and covered the ground well ahead of the swarm of thrashing lings, were now stationary and hovering atop the bunker, the beat of their wings clearly audible. Outside, glave worms screeched as they tore into the metal armors of tank and T-280 alike, some even finding their way to the marine’s cover, scraping strips off the bunker. Eventually veering to the sands with sudden puffs, the grotesque wormthings twitched, dying, purposes served.
“They’re in the blind spot! Williams, jack the skylight!”
Nodding and backing away as he reloaded, leaving some shoulder room for the remaining three to better beat back the ground attack, Williams stepped to the center of the bunker and quickly slammed the butt of his weapon against the roof, jamming a hinged piece open and out. The sickly chitenous underbellies of the unaware mutalisks glistened and dripped, their muscles working furiously, downdrafts swirling up clouds of dust within the bunk.
“Hot love.” Williams chirped, yanking the bolt and firing point blank straight up.
“Christ! The tower!”
Metal screamed and bent as it collapsed to the ground. The tower fell, toppled by a seemingly gleeful pack of the savagely mutated dune runners. A massive dust cloud shot across the battlefield as it crashed, just shy of crushing the booming Arclite. Two zergling came hard from the blinding sand screen a scant five yards away, skipping across the ground like frogs, leaping through the sickly remains of the Zerg already having faced the firing line. A grenade exploded. Biks again. Legs vaporized to a bloody spray out from under the oncoming threat, twitching torsos sent spinning.
“Like that?! Huh?” Bickerson’s eyes glinted.
Bacco knelt and tossed his spent clip, jamming another in with a slap of his palm. “Watch the tank, Bickers! Mooley!”
From above, something slammed down solidly atop the bunker, denting it viciously. A thick, red ooze dripped in stringy globules from the roof, leaking and streaming into the slits. A single yellow, leathery wing flopped in across Bacco’s line of sight. “Eat that shit you sick fucks!” Williams hollered from behind, flipping a single finger at the now darkened skylight, his CMC drenched in whatever liquids Zerg bled.
The remaining two flyers retreated from the no longer blind spot, flying well beyond range to the north, high above their colony where overlords floated lazily in the distance. There they turned for another hit and run.
Moving around to the northern slit, leaving Mooley and Biks to blast away at what could be seen around the dead wing to the west, Bacco found he could still make a clean cover of the Arclite while hopefully meeting the oncoming mutes. Popping off three quick bursts, a zergling climbing atop the tank fell heavily, slashing spasms twisting it’s thin body. “Williams! Keep your eyes east and south, the lings’ll be all over us!”
No sooner said ...
Even with two impalers rattling against them, the stream of stringy, rabbit quick Zerg could not be stemmed completely. The sounds of their battle screeches blended poorly with the barks of Terran weaponry as they circled the bunker, zigzaging, searching for an opening.
The siege tank thudded, blasting billows of sand, another shell sent deep into the colony.
Over the comm, “Shit! Shit! Christ! Damn! Fuck!” ... Styles.
Suddenly in view, the SCV fled past, two zergling firmly latched on, pounding the cockpit, spidering the safety glass, intent on ripping through to the man inside. Two more followed at it’s heels, their bladed arms raised high. Willaims fired after them as they came around.
“Fuckin’ gimp!” Bacco cursed, baring his purplish stained teeth. “Williams, here, cover the siege! Watch those mutalisks!”
Firing in wide arcs, Mooley spat between bursts. “I can’t help him! The other SCV! Couldn’t keep the little bastards off him ...” The big man sounded both pained and enraged, choking off his words.
Biks, having reached down to the bandoleer numerous times to reload the underbarrel, now thrummed off another grenade. Explosions and multiple screaming Zerg added to the cacophony. Shrapnel from the now annihilated T-280 SCV mingled with organics and gore.
Looking grim, Bickerson quickly slid home another grenade. “He’d have thanked me for that.”
Williams fired randomly, aiming low, at something to the east before shuffling to cover Bacco’s position. Styles needed help.
Crossing quickly, passing beneath the blocked and blood trickling skylight without pause, Bacco slammed against the bunker door, plowing through into chaos. His finger depressing the trigger even before there was a target, the impaler swung about to the his right, strafing across the teeming ranks of the enemy that milled there. One zergling rolled to a violent stop, unmoving. The weapon clicked loudly and repeatedly, signaling empty.
“Styles! Styles, come around!” Bacco instructed loudly over the commlink, flicking the clip release, vulnerable. “Evac that thing! Get in here!"
“On it! Comin’ round!” He sounded manic.
Inside, the three remaining continued thier desperate defense of the now damaged siege tank, it’s outer structure badly gouged by glave and edged limb.
Out of the corner of his eye, the dead mutalisk loomed atop the sagging bunker.
“Incoming!” Hollered from inside, over the gaussfire.
Glave worms could be heard slamming the tank, the mutalisks an instant later passing directly overhead, for a moment leaving Bacco eclipsed in their massive shadows. Slapping in the new clip, chambering, he sent a long barrage after the gape mouthed horrors.
The hum of powered engines from the left.
The SCV came, tearing around the eastern corner, Styles wide-eyed as the two terrors perched atop his mount were flung away, the cockpit springing from it’s pressured seal. Leaping from the still moving machine, the construction worker, clad only in his coveralls complete with a backwards ballcap, flailed roughly in the sands, barrel rolling to a stop in a sandy cascade.
The ballcap didn’t stay on.
“Shit! Jesus!” Biks, from within.
“Get that one off, Will!” Mooley.
“Dammit, no!” Williams.
From over the bunker it came, over the corpse of it’s flyer brethren, rushing, hissing, flailing, taking Bacco in the back with all it’s weight. To they ground both went, hard, the zergling landing atop him with practiced agility. His vision blurred and jarred as the thing instantly slammed a pointed, serrated edge against the side of his helmet, then another, it’s clawed feet digging, sending shocks of white hot pain the entire length of Bacco’s spine and legs.
Zerglings hissed as they thrashed to their feet mere yards away.
Styles was yelling, stumbling across the sands toward him.
To Be Continued ...Another Heaping Helping of
Goodness07.19.00
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