Nemaka, 2515. First Terran Armored Division, Commanders Log – continued.
We’ve found another base, and another piece of this odd journal. This base is a burnt-out shell, and looks like it got that way long before we nuked this place. I’m not sure how a base ended up here – the area isn’t really defensible, but I’m starting to expect the unexpected out here.
It’s worth mentioning that we found the remains of a Zerg colony on our way up here. Even dead, those things give me the creeps.
No surprise, the journal is in the same handwriting as before.
Dear Journal,
Things have not gone as planned. After the big-wigs moved up and out of Nemaka, they told me to take my forces north into the foothills and establish a base camp. I asked why, by Admiral Saboyet just gave me that icy glare he’s so famous for. Apparently the Confederacy doesn’t like to share its reasoning with its commanders any longer. Bah.
At first, journal, things were not too bad up here, or at least as decent as could be expected on a rock like this. The Protoss hauled out of here long ago, and the last Zerg we’d seen was back on Auir. Poor bastards, those Protoss. Don’t know what I’d do if the Zerg hit earth. I don’t even like anyone on that planet, but it’s mine, you know?
We built a command center up here, got some mineral production going, and then it happened – two, maybe three weeks in. Our ComSat picked up a burrowed unit. Then another. Suddenly, two had become ten, and ten became one hundred. We’re just lucky we had some towers up, or we would have been finished right then and there – I’d given the Marines some down time, and I hadn’t seen the two Ghosts we’ve got since we set up camp. Those freaks are almost as bad as the Zerg.
Suddenly, we had a real problem on our hands. My sub-commander suggested firing off a few Science Vessels to patrol our base, but I like to keep them close to our command center in case we need them. It took some arguing, but I agreed to let him try it.
Thank god for that. The first day out, our two SVs found six pockets of Zerg, likely sent as a recon force.
Now that he had the bit in his mouth, my Sub tried to convince me we should use the SVs to drop EMPs on shielded units or use them for group irradiations. I wasn’t happy with the idea – the Zerg don’t have much for shields, and they’re already a filthy infected mess, but I let him try.
We sent out a strike force of several siege tanks and a few SVs as support, and it was an unmitigated disaster. The tanks got swarmed before they could even get sieged, and one of the SV operators panicked and used his shield generator to shield a Zerg Hydralisk rather than our last tank. He limped back in here last night and is spending some time in our makeshift brig.
God. Shielding our opponents. Who would have thought that even possible? Who designed this technology?
The wolves are at the door, journal. There’s no way we can fight off a Zerg horde of this magnitude – one thing our ill-fated mission did discover was that the Zerg have used our training grounds to field a significant base. Serves us right for leaving minerals behind, unmined.
We’re going to have to retreat, but I’ve got a plan. I’ve sent my Sub and a force of our best men farther north to set up another base. I’m going to booby-trap the hell out of this one, and then go give our Zerg friends a bloody nose. I finally laid my hands on one of our Ghosts, Findlay, and told him to get his partner and make sure they’re with the team that leaves tomorrow.
We have no hope of defeating the Zerg, but we’re going to bring the hurt. We’re going to hit them hard, and then run like hell. When they follow us back here, they’ll get a nasty little surprise. I’m going to lose men, but they’re going to lose more Zerglings. A lot more, if I get my way.
And when the dust settles, I’m going to have an empty base, smoking and foul-smelling, but the host of Zerg are going to think they’ve wiped me out. It won’t last for long, and I know I’ll see them again, but at least this will give us time to rebuild, to regroup.
I won’t be caught off-guard again. I know how to beat th…
The last page of this entry is torn out along the bottom edge. Tristram obviously had a rough time here. He’s no military genius, to be sure, but some of what he says makes sense. If there’s more of these journals to be found, we need to find them, and fast.
For record-keeping purposes, I’ve made this entry at TC date 152.87. That doesn’t mean anything to me, so for my own benefit I’ll say February 17th.
Strange…that date has no particular significance for me, but I feel as though the shadow of the Grim Reaper has just passed me by. Something has…begun.
