StarCraft 1. Briefing

Lights danced around the dark room from the holo-display as Captain Deckard was slumped over his bunk, fast-forwarding through the news. He would occasionally stop if something looked interesting and if he felt he wanted the accompanied audio.

"The Directorate Council, today, has informed the People for the Ethical Tre…"

The hand never strayed far from the dial as Deckard was usually wrong about what interested him. He set the remote down and rubbed his eyes. Although the option was there, he was warned about checking the Earth news archive only available to certain officers. There was decades worth of news for every few months and it was like watching the future that has already happened. One can only be haplessly sucked in to toying with this archive without being able to stop. Curiosity, coupled with boredom, has gotten the best of Deckard and grief was the only result for no journey sent outside Earth's present interstellar system has ever came back.

Screw it, thought Deckard as he closed the archive and tossed the remote towards the display. The boredom began when the fleet surrounded the planet Moria and docked. Most operations have come to a standstill since then and it has been several days. He lied back in his bunk and closed his eyes. _What exactly are they keeping us in the dark from?_

_(Doom)_

Deckard's eyes immediately reopened. He didn't know what just happened nor did he want to know because he was willing to conclude that he's become delirious from watching the display all day long. Sleep was now out of the question because he was now afraid to close his eyes again in contemplation. As Deckard stood up to grab the remote, the time in the bottom corner of the display caught his attention. It read 1520. He stood frozen in motion of grabbing the remote as he pondered why the time was bothering him.

"Oh, shit!" He shouted as he gunned for his jumpsuit.

* * *

Deckard's breathing has become a little labored by the time he's reached the final door before the round table. The round table was just a room frequently used for conferences or briefings and nicknamed for a large round table with a center holo-display.As soon as the door slid open, four men sitting around the table has put their full attention on Deckard coming in. He quickly scanned the room to see that the Colonel has not arrived yet and let out a big breath as he sat down. The four men still stared at him, all of them smiling. 

"Ho Deckard," Card said.

"Ho Card, Sanford, Clancy, Clarke." They all nodded in greeting.

"I was beginning to think Easy wasn't going to be included," Sanford said and the men chuckled.

"How are them Easies, Dec?" Card asked. Deckard hated that nickname. Echo has been somewhat of an auxiliary company ever since the great Directorate-Coalition War being part of a battalion that seemed to have been over fitted. They would hardly see action if any at all and its past was riddled with notoriously lazy commanders, who were there for any number of reasons except being able to lead and hence the nickname, Easy Echo.

Deckard himself was once in Charlie Company fighting along side Clancy since conscription. They have both reached the commissioned rank of Captain along with the rest of the men who were sitting at the round table and Deckard's de corps was at its peak until the unit was given orders to accompany the fleet that was headed to the Koprulu sector. With the orders came the announcement of the reformation of the once disbanded Echo Company with a large batch of fresh recruits, naming Deckard as the commander.

"Oh they're fine," replied Deckard. "How are them assholes, Card?"

Card didn't respond and the chuckling had dimmed back down to smiles. Deckard could only assume that the alliteration with Alpha was not lost with them.

"Hey Dec, have you heard of anything 'bout what's going on in the Darwin?" Clancy asked inquisitively.

"Nope… Why? Did you?"

"Only rumors, the Darwin's been a busy bee these past few days. Clarke saw shuttles going back and forth Moria and the Darwin like crazy. People think…"

The door slid open and in speed walked a short bulky Colonel Leonard. Card bolted up and loudly announced, "Attention on deck!" Then the rest of the men bolted up as the Colonel was already motioning them to sit down.

"At ease, sit down." The Colonel had a scratchy voice which was easily mimicked but nobody with half a brain would do it in his presence.

"Greetings, Sir," said Card.

"Ho. I'm going to have to make this quick, we don't have much time. You'll be briefed on SoP later by the battalion XO." Leonard has always cut right to the chase. He didn't even have to tell them they were going to be deployed for it was implied by the Standards of Procedure briefing. "I just came back from a briefing with Admiral DuGalle in the S.V Darwin. I have bad news, and I have even worse news. The bad news is the Terrans we've come here for is gone. All attempts of contact have failed and both scouts and every reading we have confirms the Terran bases are uninhabited. Now, moving on to the worse news, Zerg presence has been discovered. They may be the reason for the lack of Terran contact on Moria but we don't know that for sure. They can be wild for all we know but some highly doubts it."

Leonard walked over to a podium and toggled its panel. A full color holo-vid of a zergling appeared before the display in the middle of the round table. Most soldiers and even officers including Deckard were told the overall mission was to quell renegade Terran but the possibility of conflict with the two alien races was made aware to them. Deckard knew the possibility was more of a probability when they were forced to watch countless hours of vids documenting the many aspects of Protoss and Zerg. None of it has prepared him for the gut wrenching feeling he got just staring at a lifelike display of a zergling.

"This little baby here was found dead on Moria. When or how it's died is undetermined. But thank god we found it in one piece. The joints of the hind legs are hinged differently and the white coats believe it allows them to move much faster then normal. The carapace armor shows extreme resistance to thorium based ammunition,an ancientstandard. Attributes like that are supposed to be classic signs of Zerg that have evolved to fight Terrans specifically. Besides one dead zergling, no other evidence of zerg infestation around Moria has been found."

The image of the zergling has changed into a hilly terrain being rendered.

"Our orders are to gain a foothold on the surface of Moria. What you're looking at is the site our entire battalion will be deployed". Clarke, who is sitting next to Deckard, glanced over to him with a raised brow. What an asshole, thought Deckard. "There are abandoned tactical structures there and each company will be placed in the different firebases and bunkers situated in key places of the hill, who goes where will be determined in SoP. You'll be getting additional support from tenth armor. Get your men ready for launch, keep your comlinks active, and direct all questions comments to the XO." Leonard, being true to his word, speed walked right out the sliding door.

Deckard looked around the table. The captains looked baffled. They were trying to grasp the gravity of the situation. The Colonel whisked the briefing off to them in order to compromise their thinking. It's the way they all are, including Deckard and the other captains. Clarke had his eyes closed, but after a brief moment of silence, he opened them and squinted in confusion. Deckard can hear him muttering to himself, "Doom?"


	2. Launch

The company commanders of the 1-16 (1st infantry division, 16th battalion) stood around a rather large holo-display used specifically for detailed topographical maps. It was a briefing given by the battalion executive officer, but this time the captains were equipped with standard marine combat suits because the launch time was nearing.

Major Stine was frantically pointing all over the map with his laser light and talking about a thousand words per minute. Deckard was paying little attention and nothing the XO had said in the past five minutes had registered with him. He knows if the Easies aren't mentioned specifically, none of what is being said applies to Echo Company. Deckard, not having slept much within the past few days, struggled to keep his eyes open.

"…and that's where the Easies come in. Captain Deckard, are we a little tired?" Stine asked.

"No, sir," Deckard replied straightening up. Stine then proceeded to march towards Deckard until he was right in front of him. "Just resting my eyes for a second, XO… been staring at displays all day long."

"Let me guess, the news archive? You were warned to use it with discretion and you are this close of having your rank stripped from you, we clear on that?" The closeness was indicated by Stine's fingers. "I will not stand for incompetence among my officers."

"Yes, Sir."

"Now where was I? Ah, yes, the Easies." Stine continued his briefing without moving back to his original spot. "Echo Company will occupy the firebases at point H and that'll complete an airtight surrounding of the landing zone."

Point H was tactically the worse place to be. Out of all the different structures built around a large hill, point H were the only ones built on the base with no height advantage. It appeared that the terrain on that part of the hill was too rough for anything to be built on but still needed to be defended. There was also what looked like a refinery in the adjacent grid sector overlooking point H. Who knew what kind of artillery could be stuffed in there. What exactly the hill fortifications were defending remained a mystery.

Stine continued droning on with his briefing and Deckard continued not paying attention.

_Well, at least I know why they want the Easies down there: to fill up space. _

_(For your duration)_

_What?_

_(Your duration until doom)_

_Okay…_

Just great, he said to himself, I'm hearing voices now. Deckard pondered the idea of checking himself in to PsyOps. Not exactly a clinic but PsyOps had the only psychologists in the fleet from the Science Vessel Darwin. But then he could be branded as a loon and/or quarantined for study. Only thing worse then being the commander of Easy is being booted off as the commander of Easy.

"Any questions or concerns?" asked Stine while putting his cap on. "Best to spill it out now, we aren't talking again once I leave this quarter."

"Sir, just out of curiosity," said Card. Stine looked ready to bolt out the door but just stared at Card, face blank. Curiosity was not a favored word. "What's with all the rush when the Colonel said himself there wasn't any immediate Terran or Zerg presence on Moria? I thought rapid deployment procedures were for emergencies."

Stine paused for a moment then looked at Deckard. "Consider it a drill for Easy." Stine swiftly walked out of door to Deckard's left. Speed walking seemed to be a sport going up the chain of command lately. The captains started clanking their way out of the door to Deckard's right.

"Bullshit," softly said Clarke.

Upon the right door sliding open, the noisy sounds from the docking bay rushed into the room. The docking bay had dropships being prepped for launch along with nearly a thousand marines, all part of 1-16 Battalion, also prepping themselves. Deckard was following the rest out the right door until someone's head popped out the left door.

"Deckard!" yelled Stine over the bay noises.

"Sir!"

Stine motioned with his finger for Deckard to follow. Stine went back to swiftly walking down the hallway, followed by a rapid clanking noise.

"There was something I almost forgot, Captain." Stine pulled out a palm size card-like object out of his jumpsuit pocket. "I've got orders from the Colonel for you to keep it."

The object looked much smaller in Deckard's hand and upon closer inspection; it looked like some sort of an archaic computer chip. "What is it?"

"I haven't got a clue… to anything. The orders specifically said you and you alone. I was pretty curious myself but I'd rather not ask Napoleon."

* * *

"What is it?" Clavell asked as he carefully handled the chip between his thumb and index finger. First Lieutenant Clavell was Deckard's right hand man. He also happened to be a savant with anything computer related. 

"I was hoping you could tell me", Deckard replied, "XO gave it to me after briefing, he said it was from the Colonel but doesn't know what it is or why I'm getting it."

"Well… it looks like a key." Clavell examined it close to his helmet. It was impossible to see anything with the inside of the dropship completely masked with a red light.

"A key?" Deckard asked.

"Yeah, like a key card. The transistor here at the end looks like it's supposed to attach to something. That reminds me, take a look at this." Clavell handed Deckard back the chip and took out a small video display out of his suit compartment. As he turned it on, Deckard noticed a lot of red dots. "You're looking at the entire 1-16", bolstered Clavell with a smirk, "I took the vidphone out of my wall and modified it to receive vital sign transponders. It's red on black now but if I did everything right, it should show a terrain background using comsat once we're down there."

Whoever assigned him as a marine made a big mistake, Deckard thought. "You're insane. These groups of red dots must be the adjacent dropships."

"Yeah"

"And these cluster-fucks down here must be…"

"Yeah"

Deckard let out a sigh. "When is everyone supposed to be boarded?"

"Like ten minutes ago." Clavell replied.

Deckard quickly set his suits comlink so he'd be communicating with his platoon leaders. "Listen up: Easy needs to be on those dropships, now."

"Sir," A voice responded, "third platoon isn't ready gearing up yet."

"Neither is second," said another.

The audacity, thought Deckard. He took his safety harness off and walked towards the dropships cargo entrance. "No, listen: every other company is going to be launched and well on their way while Private Pyles is still trying to figure out how to strap on his perditions. They can finish their shit on the way down so start kicking their rear ends until they're on those ships. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," all four platoon leaders replied.

The red light changed to a green light and the door started coming down. Immediately, Deckard had a view of the Easies, the only ones left on the bay. Moments later, they started filing into their dropships, some still hugging their equipment.


End file.

StarCraft, Drama, Sci-Fi