Untitled, in progress short story. Constructive criticism please.

Thanks for the postive feedback, Jacob.

Yeah, Zealot, I've been struggling to make compromises with what phrases and sentences I should use for the character (as a precatuion, the word document has some footnotes for translations). My two years of High School French have started to get hazy, so its a battle. However, I am going to be taking French 3 in university next semester, so fingers crossed. I just for whatever reason thought that a Ghost who happened to be a homicidal French psychopath was a really cool idea for a character.

Anyways, next part:

---

Grid Kilo 5-7, 2005 hours.

The barrage ceased again, but no one in the trench was taking any chances. In the distance however, the same Marine was screaming in pain, albeit he was less coherent now.

“Well…” Vega scoffed, “What are the odds?”
“I’m going to go get him.” Randall said.
“It’s been almost an hour, I don’t think there’s much you can do for him anyways.” Winters replied.

The man continued to scream until finally…

“Assez!” Laure yelled in exasperation “Laisse-moi deux z'gondes. ” She closed her eyes, held out her arms to rest on the ground, and let the palms of her hands face skywards. The man cried for mercy for a little while more until a violent “pop!” noise was heard. The screams ceased from there on out.

Everyone looked at Laure in shock. Randall was appalled.

“Why in the hell did you do that for?!” she cried.
“Don’t be so squeamish.” Said Laure, as she un-holstered her knife and etched another tally onto her neo-steel vest, they now counted thirty-six, “Think of it as a mercy killing. Capitaine Winters is right, there wasn’t much you could have done.”
“I could have given him some morphine for the pain.” Randall said, “At least make him comfortable before he died. You know, I almost felt sorry for you after you told your story, but I was wrong to think that. You’re still murdering, blood-thirsty psychopath!” Tears began streaming down her face from anger.
“Vous en voulez aussi? ” Laure said and pointed to the tallies on her vest again. “Je veux bien to make you numero trente-sept for this battle if you keep that up.”
“I want you to try.” Randall gnashed her teeth together. “You fight because you think you’ve got nothing else? That’s no reason to fight..”

The two got up, obviously for blood.

“Catfight.” Vega dryly remarked.

“You think you’re hot stuff, Ghost?” Randall sneered. “I’d love to see how you do without psionics.” She held her rifle by the end, wielding it like a club instead of a gun.
“La vie est trop courte! Venez! ” Laure cried, as she readied her knife.

While tempers flared in the trench, all five had completely forgotten about the artillery barrage, which resumed once more. A whistling sound suddenly drowned out their voices until a shell landed in the middle of the trench. Immediately, Winters, Vega, Flood, and de Marais hit the deck.

There was no brilliant flash, no deafening explosion. A few moments passed until Corporal Vega lifted his head out of the mud.

“Oh god, please tell me I’m in heaven now.” He said, before opening his eyes.
“If this is heaven, then what are you people doing here?” Randall responded. “Unless this is… awww hell.”
“You’s guys ain’t dead yet.” Winters said and pointed at the intact projectile in the middle of the trench, smoke emitting from its end. “It’s a dud.” He approached the shell.

“Easy!” Vega shouted. “Take cover!”

“Tu es cinglé, non?! ”

“Don’t worry.” Winters calmly replied. “I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before.” Sure enough, Captain Winters expertly handled the unexploded ordinance and slowly disassembled it, followed by a triumphant “humph.”

“Figures.” Winters smiled. “Shell hit the ground so hard, the contact fuse got busted up. Thank god for quantity being job number one.” He detached the detonator and tossed it.

Out of everyone in the trench, the only one who didn’t even flinch was Akvavit. He watched as both Laure de Marais and Randall Flood sat back down, still fuming from their near-confrontation.

“You say that her reasons are no reason to fight?” Akvavit finally said to Randall, “I am interested to hear yours.”
“Huh?” Randall looked at Akvavit. It was only now that Akvavit noticed that the Terrans looked at him oddly whenever he spoke. Perhaps they were used to his kind being silent observers, just as they were when the Terrans first arrived in the sector.
“I find you Terrans fascinating creatures.” Akvavit said, “Please, your story?”
“Well.” Winters said. “Guess it’s your turn.”
“Alright, alright.” Randall said. “Where to begin?”

 

I must say, this gets better with every part. Ever thought of writing a book?

 

Heh, nope. Actually, my real passion is drawing though, and its sort of my life's goal to get into comics. I've got a bunch of other ideas for other fan-fictions brewing in my head though.

The story is almost done, the rest is going up by the end of the night.

Here's the next part.

---

“I barely even remember my parents.” Randall began. “They were killed by riot police during the anti-war demonstrations during the Guild Wars.” Randall coughed from her inexperience with nicotine. “I was taken in by my aunt and uncle on Mar Sara, so everything I knew about my parents came from them. They told me that my mom and dad eventually got sick of the Confederacy for all the repression and and injustice, all of the discrimination but most of all, for spitting on their own veterans, sending them out to die in droves so that the ‘Old Families’ could cluck their tongues and plan for their next financial quarter.” She took the cigarette out of her mouth and held it in a fashion that indicated that she was making a point. “And that was all I needed to know to join the cause.”

“I’ve read all the lies they have in the textbooks, how they contradict all the images of starving people getting beaten to death in the streets, how the Confederate council makes decisions on a whim with no say from the people, and what they did to Korhal IV back in the rebellion.”

“J'en ai marre with your sentimentality.” Laure moaned. Randall ignored her.

“Four million people were killed in a minutes, the largest genocide to occur since we Terrans got to this sector.” Randall disgustedly let out. “Since then, I swore to have nothing to do with those Confederate bastards, and if I had to fight, it’d be for the right cause.”

“The way I heard it, a lot of you ‘Raynor’s Raiders’ came from the Mar Sara militia.” Vega said.

“Yeah,” Randall responded, “but I was a civilian physician back then.”

“Vraiment? Rien à chiquer! ” Laure exclaimed, “You were an actual doctor? That explains so much!” She teased,

“Shut-up. Anyways, when the Confederacy bugged out, we had our asses pulled out of the fire by the ‘Sons of Korhal.’ I remember when Jim Raynor got busted out of the prison ship, he had everyone from my town who could handle a gun gathered up and asked for any volunteers to join he fight against the Confederacy.” Randall paused for a moment, as if nostalgic. “You might not have thought much of him back then when he was two feet in front of you, but for some reason, there was this light around him that made you think everything was going to be alright, like you weren’t even going to get a scratch. He told us he knew about our misgivings about working with Mengsk, but he said that he was on the right side of that fight. God knows he really wished for that to be true.”

“And so, I became a combat medic for the ‘Sons of Korhal.’ As it turns out, when you’re in the company of ex-cons, your skills with a tourniquet and an IV drip are in high demand.” Randall chuckled. “I fought alongside Raynor in Jacobs, Antiga Prime, and Tarsonis, and no matter what we thought of Mengsk, we believed we were making a better future for ourselves, for every Terran in the sector.”

“Well, we know how that turned out.” Winters remarked.

“Come Tarsonis, we were no longer a rag-tag group of revolutionaries; we had enough Battlecruisers to take on the Confederacy head on and tactical nuclear strikes became standard operating procedure, the same strategy the Confederates used on Korhal. When the psi-emitter was planted on Tarsonis, we finally opened our eyes and figured out that Mengsk wasn’t out for justice.

“Now, we’ve taken up the cause Mengsk left behind: safety for the entire human race in this sector, regardless of loyalties. Hell, we’ve even helped out the Protoss take down the Overmind on Aiur.”

“Are you really so sure that’s enough to convince people you can actually take down Mengsk?” Vega inquired.

“Hell, we’ve raided some shipyards on Umoja and Kel-Moria and nabbed enough starships to hold our own. Once we deal with the Zerg, Mengsk is going down, you’ll see.” Randall boasted triumphantly.

“Yeah, well you guys are doing a hell of a job with the Zerg.” Winters sarcastically replied.
“You Dominion boys ain’t exactly pulling your weight either.” Randall snapped. “Besides, if it wasn’t for Mengsk, we wouldn’t have even been in this mess.”

“You mean Kerrigan?” Vega asked.
“Damned straight.” Randall replied.

---

Grid Kilo 5-5, six hours earlier.

“Meeedic!” was the terrified cry, the last syllable drowned out by gunfire. Specialist Randall Flood dodged Hydralisk needles and Mutalisk fire and sprinted from one foxhole to another. One had two Marines taking cover in it.

“Brown! Ramirez! You guys good?”
“Yeah!” Said the Marine named Ramirez. “Hey!” he yelled out to Brown, who covered his head with his hands, “Snap out of it and watch the goddamn line!”
“Alright, I’m off.” Randall said as the voice in the distance repeated “Medic!”

Flood started a sprint, serrate bags in one hand and a rifle in her other. Her next stop was a foxhole belonging to Private First Class Jameson.

“How’s it going Jameson?” Randall asked, as she dived into the foxhole and scanned the horizon.
“Well, I was doing pretty well for myself until the Zerg had to start this whole deal.” Jameson sardonically remarked. “Hey! You needed some extra stims and morphine right?”
“Yeah.”
Jameson took out his first aid kit and tossed it to Randall. “Here, take the whole damned thing.”
Randall examined the contents for a moment and said “Thanks.”
“Well, as long as your not doing anything with it all personal like.” Jameson joked.
“Y’know which way to Carter’s foxhole?”
“God knows, just follow the shouting.”

Randall was off again, spikes whizzing by her head until she finally found the source of the cries, a Marine with acid spores eating away through his armor.

“You used up your dose, Carter?!” Randall demanded.
“Ahhh… God!” the Marine moaned in agony.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Randall said, as she took a serrate of stims and injected it into Carter’s substance administrator unit, took out a burned cork, and drew an “S” on his forehead, “Only use it if you have to.” Randall said “Stretcher-bearer!”
“No, wait!” Carter yelled. “I’m not coming off the goddamned line, you here?”
“Are you sure, Sergeant?”
“Look, I’m fine now, just see to the other boys, okay? And…” Carter paused as he stared into the distance. “Oh, hell!”

Mushroom clouds dominated the vista, but a sea of Zerg kept coming in like the tide.

“Did we just get dosed?!” Randall asked distressingly.
“Uh…” Carter couldn’t think of anything to say, “Just… just head to Bank’s position, try and work something out.”

Randall left Carter to traverse the pockmarked landscape. She wandered through withering Zerg fire for nearly an hour until.

A tall, slender, and unmistakably alien figure seized her and pinned her on the ground, a glowing lance pointed at her face.

“Halt.” The figure roared. The Zealot continued to hold his psi-blade to her neck until he realized his mistake. “Wait, you’re in league with Commander Raynor?”
“Yeah, and I’d appreciate it if you took that out of my face she said.” The Zealot got off and let Flood brush herself off.
“What are you doing here?” the Zealot asked, his comrades behind him were uneasy.
“I was looking for a couple of our own covering our flank, and I guess I lost my way.”
“They probably already retreated.” The Zealot said. “This sector was just bombarded by Guardians, and they are most likely coming aga…”

A grotesque pillar emerged from underneath the Protoss and impaled him from his torso all the way up through his head.

“Lurkers!” one of the Zealots cried. The Zealots readied their psi-blades, only to fall victim to an invisible foe as one by one, the Zealots were impaled by rows of sharp tendrils emerging from the ground. Randall could only look on in terror as she looked into the sky, awaiting her fate.

That was when the Arclite barrages began.

A large explosion knocked Flood onto her side. A few moments passed before she opened her eyes and saw a Zealot moaning in pain on the ground. Randall rose to examine him to find a large bruise on his head, likely from a blunt piece of shrapnel.. Randall hoisted him onto his shoulders, desperately looking for cover from the storm of high explosives, until she happened upon a trench.

It was of course, already occupied.

 

---

“That’s the story of how I saved your sorry ass.” Randall motioned to Akvavit. “Anyways, enough about me. I’d like to hear what you have to say.” She looked to Winters, “Dominion scum”

Everyone looked to Winters.

“You guys sure you want to hear this?” Winters asked through the plume of smoke he blew out of his mouth.
“Its only fair, we told you our stories.” Vega said.

The shelling continued as Winters looked out into the distance for a moment.

“Well then…” Winters replied. “Just remember you asked me for this.”

---

“Unlike the lot of you’s, I ain’t even got a family as far as I’m concerned.” Winters began. “Neural-socialization saw to that.” Winters tapped on the implants behind his ear. “I don’t know what I did to get into this outfit, but I must have been damned good at it, ‘cos I was the first in my class to get my officer’s commission.”

“If you’re a captain now, this must’ve been when the Confederacy were still running the show.” Said Randall.

“That’s right.” Winters said. “And I’d appreciate it if you stopped thinking that I did some god-awful things out of loyalty to the Confederacy, or the Dominion for that matter.” Winters paused. “Know that I’ve served in two wars, and I know what its really like. I’ve done my share of things that you’d get nightmares if I ever told you about them. Hell, it’d be a blessing if I died in combat for the things I’ve done, but the men in my command don’t deserve it, no one in Delta does.

---

Char, six months earlier.

Delta company was an oddity in the 506th Regiment for one reason: The only “resocialized” member was its CO, Captain Winters. However, Delta was special since it was an experiment. In the Dominion overhauling the Marine Corps, it was concluded that “resoc’d.” Marines were typically lacking in intelligence and initiative, as such, to see if more highly motivated “naturals” could fare better in battle, the all-volunteer company was formed. Winters, however, was disgusted with the idea of sending “virgins” into battle.

They were all kids, literally. All of them never got past the old war-flick mentality viewpoint of combat, and this only changed when Private Felix was killed.

Felix was the first to die in Delta, and this hit the company especially hard since he was the company jokester. Within days, the ranks were thinning on the hellish planet. More fell victim to death or grievous injury. This was no longer a game for the boys of Delta, it was a war for survival.

Delta’s one saving grace, however, was Winters. Despite everything, Winters saw to it that Delta had the lowest mortality rate in the 10th ID, but that almost changed due to one General Edmund Duke.

A lone, elevated Protoss encampment was a thorn in the side of Alpha Squadron since their arrival on Char, and Delta was tasked to pulling it out and burning it. Winters listened in with his radio to the battalion commander as he and Delta Company watched from the foot of the hill.

“Listen, Winters!” The Lt. Col. said, “That hill needs to be take ASAP, you’re going to have to send everything you’ve got, now!”
“I am not sending my men on a suicide mission.” Winters replied. “We know what happened to that platoon you sent an hour ago, what I’m asking for is permission to conduct a flanking maneuver to take that position.”
“Dammit Winters, we don’t have time for that!”
“Believe me, we do. Protoss ain’t going anywhere.”

A few seconds passed as the line was re-directed.

“This is General Duke, here.” The voice on the other end said. “I don’t take kindly to insubordination in my squadron, so you take all of your men and CHARGE UP THAT DAMNED HILL NOW!”
“General, you can’t judge my decision until you’ve personally had men die in your own arms.” Winters coolly said. “I will take that hill in my own way, and if you take issue with it, well frankly…” Winters smiled. “Screw you.”

Winters hung up the radio and turned to his lieutenants behind him.

“Alright, 1st platoon is on me. We’ll hit them from the front while 2nd and 3rd hits ‘em in the rear. Leave extreme-weather gear, rations, and NBC equipment behind, only take weapons and ammo..”

---

It was a fast and bloody raid. The Protoss, while well entrenched, were de-moralized and exhausted from being isolated from the main force for so long. A few men from Delta were incinerated from photon fire, but otherwise, casualties were minimal.

General Duke was going to have Winters’ ass nailed to the floorboards for that, but when UNN got wind of what happened and hailed Winters’ raid as a decisive victory, the top brass had no choice but the issue commendations to the entire Delta Company. When Delta went on “liberty” on Tyrador IX, the Dominion High Command began issuing medals to its commanding officers.

Winters could see Duke giving him a dirty look during the ceremony.

However, R&R was cut short when the UED came.

---

Grid Kilo 5-7, sixteen hours earlier.

By the time Delta was pulled out of leave, Augustgrad was already liberated from UED occupation. Delta arrived just in time for the Dominion Marine Corps to begin re-fortifying the capital, that’s when things started to go to hell for Delta once again.

In the morning, explosions rocked the battalion barracks and kicked up splashes of mud.

“Alaaarm!” Yelled the standing watch officer, 1st Lt. Heinrich Koch.

As Delta company got out of bed and ran out of the barracks, rifles in hand, the Zerg horde had already pushed the 177th Airborne Regiment back to the fortified bunker positions. They barely had enough time to set up at their positions before questions started flying.

“Holy… hot damn! What the hell is going on?!” one of the Marines cried.
“Just keep up the pressure!” Koch yelled.

Captain Winters fired from his C-14 until he saw an endless wave of Zerg encroaching on his position. He listened in to his radio and learned of the fate of Charlie from the 177th. Winters called up the Regiment commander.
“Colonel, Charlie company on our flank just went down and out, I’m pulling my unit back!”
“That’s a negative, Winters.” The Colonel on the other end said. “We need you to hold that position to buy us some time to regroup.”
“With respect sir,” Winters said through his gnashing teeth. “If you’re seeing what I’m seeing, you’d know that we wouldn’t even be buying you forty-eight seconds.”
“Hold that position, Captain. I’m ordering you”

Winters slammed the line shut “Everybody! Pull back!” He commanded.
“Herr Winters!” Koch cried out, “We’ve got to hold back the Zerg! Hold this position!”
“Dammit, lieutenant!” Winters snapped. “We’ve already lost it! Now pull out!”
“But sir…”
“Don’t give me that!” Winters shouted in an explosive rage. “You will not die here, you will not die without my express permission! If you’ve got any qualms of leaving this place undefended, I’ll leave you in charge of Delta while I hole-up here!”

Koch was taken aback by Winters’ outbreak, until finally. “Jawohl, Herr Capain! Delta! On me, lets go!”
Captain Winters unloaded with his rifle, almost single-handedly holding back the Zerg advance as his company retreated. However, this was not enough, as Dominion Siege Tanks began pounding that position, with Winters still in it.

The strike subsided for a moment, long enough for Winters to wander the battlefield, shell-shocked and disoriented. He continued like this for a few hours until he happened on the trench he occupies to this moment.

---

Grid Kilo 5-7, 0130 hours.

Captain Winters simply remained silent when he finished his story.

“I’m…” Randall stammered. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need.” Winters replied. “I don’t blame you for thinking the way you do. But I’ll tell you this. Bastards who can’t put themselves in a position like mine have no place giving us orders. I’d like to know how guys like Duke got put in charge; if we had someone who even had the slightest idea of how to command, we would have seen something like this coming.” Winters was referring to Kerrigan’s betrayal.

All four Terrans turned to Akvavit now.

“Et toi?” Laure said the Akvavit, “What is your story.”
“There is no story.” The Zealot said quietly.
Vega chuckled. “You Protoss live for hundreds of years.” He said. “Surely there’s something interesting for you to tell us.”
“No.” Akvavit said. “I have listened to your tales, and I can only tell you can only look to your own chronicles to make your future.”
“You humans fight amongst each other, even as the Zerg threaten to destroy us all.” Akvavit said.

“Mais…” Laure said.
“There are no ‘buts.’” Akvavit roared. “We Protoss let petty differences divide our kind before and we nearly paid the price when the Overmind came to Aiur. We’ll damn ourselves before we would let that happen again. Perhaps it is because you humans don’t live long enough to realize what is truly important, but if you humans are to survive, you must learn from your experiences and understand one another.

A stunned silence fell over the trench once more after Akvavit’s speech, the barrage continued in the background, as if accenting his voice. The Terrans merely looked at the ground, like children after being scolded by their parents.

 

---

0300 hours.

The group waited an hour before the last shell detonated. Laure made one last telepathic scan.

“Tes copains have pushed les Zerg back, mais, il y a beaucoup de morts. ”
“Well…” Vega said. “No better time to vamos out ‘a here than now.”
“Then what do we do?” Winters asked.
“Don’t know.” Randall said. “Just hope to survive and make the best of what we’ve got.”

All five Terrans and a Protoss looked at each other. For hours, they argued, they fought, and they listened to one another. Even with what was exchanged, nothing was going to change the fact that they were on opposite sides of a war, but as they gazed into each other’s eyes, something that could only be described as respect was found.

“If nothing else, we should go our separate ways now.” Akvavit said.

Captain Jonathan Winters, Specialist Randall Flood, and Corporal Alvaro Vega shook hands with each other begrudgingly. Lieutenant Junior Grade Laure de Marais hugged Akvavit and, in true Gallic fashion, gave him several kisses on each cheek.
“Adieu, mes biquets.” Laure said cheerfully to everyone. “Adieu, mon chéri.” She said to Akvavit seductively. Randall rolled her eyes. Akvavit seemed to blush for a moment, embarrassed.

As the low rumble of Terran Goliaths and Siege Tanks and Protoss Dragoons and Reavers were felt, gunfire heard in the distance, the five went their own ways, running off into the darkness of the night.

---

Weakened by Kerrigan’s surprise attack, the combined Terran and Protoss counter-offensive failed, resulting in the deaths of their leaders, Praetor Fenix of the Protoss and General Edmund Duke of the Terran Dominion. Then, without explanation, the Zerg left for the ruins of Tarsonis to continue their work, leaving the surviving humans and Protoss to lick their wounds.

---

Lieutenant Junior Grade Laure de Marais was left behind by the ill-fated UED withdrawal. She would continue to holdout on Korhal IV for another week until she surrendered to an armored cavalry squadron of Goliaths, but not before she, with nothing but a combat knife and her potent telekinetic abilities, slaughtered nearly two battalions of Marines sent to capture her.

Recognizing her exceptional psionic talents, the Dominion High Command gave Laure two options, serve the Dominion Ghost Program, or face a likely death sentence. Free from the clutches of her past and any allegiance to Earth, this was an easy decision for the young ghost.

At the age of twenty-four, Lieutenant Laure de Marais is now the senior advanced psionics instructor at the Terran Ghost Academy, training new recruits with the standards of her own training, though true to her bloodthirsty nature, she longs for an opportunity to serve on the battlefield again.

---

Corporal Alvaro Vega was accused of desertion following the Second Battle of Augustgrad, despite the fact that he was serving his duty as a stretcher-bearer before he was cut-off from the doomed Charlie Company of the 177th.

He was permitted to visit his mother and his siblings in university before his court-martial proceedings. However, he disappeared on the night before his hearing and was never heard from again, though his friends from civilian life said they could have sworn to have seen him on a bus full of hippies on the tropical resort planet of Tyrador IX.

---

Specialist Randall Flood eventually linked up with “Raynor’s Rangers” and continues to serve as a medic and field surgeon for the mercenary group. Despite the group of revolutionaries coming down on hard times, Flood, along with the remnants of the former Mar Sara militia and other former “Sons of Korhal” members remain loyal to Raynor to this day.

---

After much bureaucratic back-room dealing and arm-twisting, Captain Jonathan Winters was able to have Delta Company of the 506th Regiment, 10th Dismounted Infantry Division, put on permanent reserve on Korhal IV, which would remain largely untouched in the coming conflicts. After their brutal experiences on Char and Korhal, no one in Delta Company had any complaints.

Winters was reprimanded for his insubordinate conduct and subsequently punished by being reassigned to a company of “resocs,” which would be wiped out by the Zerg in an engagement on Mar Sara. His body was positively identified and given full military honors.

One can barely make out a satisfied smile left on his face.

---

As for the Protoss Akvavit, who was re-united with his Zealot brethren at the end of the Brood War, his experiences with the Terrans would leave a lasting impression. He would never tell his brothers what had transpired, but they would note that he had a habit of scavenging human literature left behind by Terrans whenever he and his brethren would sweep through the human’s abandoned settlements.

 

... That was epic.

One final suggestion: A Zealot will have a pretty hard time with having to hide stuff from others. The Khala bond kinda prevents that, so you might want to change that part a bit. Other then that: it was really good.

 

Yeah, I was kind of tired when I wrote that part

At the time, I was nearing the 10000 words allowed for the contest, and I had to at least do something short and brief for the Zealot. Hell, there were a lot of times while I was writing this that I forgot he was even in the story.

Anyways. Your suggestions and praise mean a lot to me. I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it (instead of writing my research papers for my university classes ).

 

No problem. Thanks for posting here. Will you stick around, or were you here just for the story?

 

I'll stick around in just about any forum where I'll won't be called a racist epithet within my first few posts.

I've had a few ideas for more fan-fictions brewing in my head. I'll see how the contest goes before I'll decide if I really want to dedicate myself to them though. But again, I've had massive amounts of fun writing my first