StarCraft: Shadow of the Xel'Naga by Gabriel Mesta

Author:Gabriel Mesta [Mesta, Gabriel]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Blizzard Entertainment, LLC
Published: 2020-03-17T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

CHEWING ON IMAGINARY STEEL NAILS—THOUGH he probably wouldn’t have noticed if he’d had actual hardware between his molars—General Edmund Duke sat upright in the uncomfortable command chair of the Battlecruiser Norad III. He was ready for action, and so were his men. He had ordered them so.

They had an alien artifact to investigate and helpless colonists to rescue. If they were lucky, the mission might turn out to be even more than that.

He knew better than to rally his Marines by making gruff and patriotic speeches in a misguided attempt to fire them up enough to put their lives on the line for Arcturus Mengsk. The general himself wasn’t entirely comfortable with the politics of the situation, but he tried not to dwell on it too much. He knew the appropriate carrot to dangle when he wanted to inspire his troops to give him their personal best.

“Colony world Bhekar Ro on screen, General,” said Lieutenant Scott from the tactical station. “Approaching orbital insertion.”

General Duke nodded.

“I’m extending our sensor net, General,” said Lieutenant Scott. “Scanning ahead for defensive positions.”

Duke gave the handsome young officer a smug look, raising both eyebrows. “I figure our fifteen Battlecruisers can pretty much take care of any little farming trouble, Lieutenant.”

“Sir! Enemy vessels!” the Lieutenant shouted, double-checking his tactical readouts as the Battlecruiser fleet homed in on Bhekar Ro.

On the screen he displayed a full analysis of what lurked high above the colony world. The soldiers on board the Norad III saw the display and muttered in surprise.

Duke clenched his jaw and leaned forward. “I thought those little slimeballs might be laying an ambush for us.” He recognized the smooth-shelled, split-ellipsoidal Protoss Carriers. The general had never been able to determine whether the ships’ mottled discoloration was intentional or just ion stains from generations of service in the rigors of space.

“Power up the fleet’s Yamato guns,” he said. “We’ll go in and ring their bells before anybody even knows we’re here.”

General Duke smiled and knotted his hands together as if a scrawny enemy throat were clenched between them. “All right, men,” he broadcast through the long corridors of the Battlecruiser. “Let’s go kick some alien butt!”

The men cheered so loudly that the metal hulls rang with their enthusiasm. Alpha Squadron had been born to fight, and Emperor Mengsk had wasted their potential on pointless busywork for far too long. The Marines were as bored as the general was.

“Sir, it’s unlikely that the Protoss fleet was just lying in wait for Alpha Squadron,” Lieutenant Scott pointed out. “They have already engaged another opponent.”

As they observed, the Protoss Carriers launched waves of robotic Interceptors toward a hideous swarm of insectoid aliens, monstrous creatures that survived in the vacuum of space.

General Duke had seen those awful things before. “The Zerg and the Protoss! By damn, they’ve made an alliance!”

Then the Protoss Interceptors smashed into the Zerg minions. In seconds, the alien battlefield turned into a chaos of weaponry discharges and exploded hulls.

“I don’t think that’s much of an alliance, sir,” Lieutenant Scott said.

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