Fan Fiction

“You know who the real enemy is? Its us, not me and you but our own leaders are the ones who are

against us. They don’t care about what happens to us. If we die so what, they get a few more. It’s

the truth and I’ll be damned if I let these bastards screw with me. I’m taking matters into my own

hands and I suggest you take a good hard look around. Paranoid? You don’t know what paranoia

truly is. Paranoia is funny, because it’s never paranoia when you’re right.”

Those were the last words I ever heard by friend Alex say, just before he blew his brains clear across

a field. The war had taken a toll on all of our psyches; I guess Alex couldn’t handle the pressure. The

following week, my platoon was caught in an ambush and was shattered by an enemy scouting

party. Myself and a few of the more lucky survivors were transferred to a new platoon and shipped out

for the colony ridge.

I was stationed in the marshlands and had gone a week without seeing one single enemy soldier.

This god-forsaken place is hotter, wetter and more miserable than any rock in the system. The heat

of the day carries into the long hours of the night. Each day is filled with drills and labor, and at night

we awaken to false alarms and midnight reconnaissance. The days are long and slow, with not a

sign of enemy activity. I’m not sure anything could survive in such a hellhole.

Philips, the platoon leader, had kept close contact with central command and we were ordered to

hold our position. Philips was looking less and less stable as the days went by. He stayed in his

tent for most of the day and rarely ventured out at night. Those that brought him his meals could hear

him, muttering to himself in a nervous rambling. Most of the troops were taking a pool on when he

would finally crack; I was off by two days. Philips ordered for the assembly of the platoon and we

were given orders to move at first light. We marched for most of the morning and began to set up

camp on a small ridge. Dinner was served and the platoon settled down for a few hours rest. I had

just laid down on a soft bed of dirt, when we heard screaming from Philips tent. A few of us rushed

over to see what the commotion was. We found Philips screaming and waving his sidearm in the air.

“Never! I’ll never go! Those bastards want me to fall into a trap, but I won’t let them!”

“Sir, please calm down.”

“No, you don’t understand, we must not leave. It’s what they want us to do. We can’t allow it, I won’t

allow it.”

“Sir, you need to calm down. Who is trying to trap us?”

“Dammit man there isn’t time! We need to get the platoon away from this position as soon as

possible.”

“We will sir, but first you need to give me the gun.”

Philips stared at the weapon and gazed back at us. We hoped to defuse this situation without

causality, but one wild look from Philips ended that hope.

“You’re a part of this aren’t you! You want this platoon to die, don’t you, you sick son of a bitch!”

“No sir, nobody wants anyone to die. That’s why I need you to give me that gun.”

“Fuck you! Get someone else to give the order, because I resign!”

Philips raised the muzzle to his own head and our would be negotiator, Jimmy, tried to prevent the

inevitable. A shot rang out and Jimmy stood covered in skull, hair and brain, while Philips lay

slumped on the floor with half a skull on his shoulders and the other half on Jimmy’s. The platoon

sergeant, Darren Murphy, was named the acting commanding officer and had Philips removed from

his new quarters. Murphy sifted through some documents on Philips desk and tried to figure what

had caused him to snap. Among the papers was a fresh set of orders from central command. We

were to report to Fort Edison, five miles due east of our current position. Reports placed enemy

soldiers in the vicinity of the fort and we were to reinforce their position. Reinforcements would arrive

to evacuate the area and relieve our command. No one was sure if this message had sent Philips

over the deep end, but we did know that we had our orders. Murphy gave the word to move at first

light and early the next morning, the platoon headed off on a five-mile march.

We arrived at Fort Edison in the mid-morning hours. The sun was high in the sky as were trudged

into the Edison Valley, just south of the fort that bore its name. Recon reported no strange activity

and Murphy elected to radio ahead before we reached the forts outlying defenses.

“This is Beta platoon to Fort Edison, we are here to reinforce your position. Requesting permission to

enter defense perimeter.”

We listened to the unsettling sounds of static and nothing else. Hoping that we were out of range,

the platoon moved forward with guns up and eyes trained. We moved towards the fort and saw the

first of the defensive bunkers. We once again radioed ahead and kept our eyes on the bunkers.

“This is Beta Platoon to Fort Edison, we are here to reinforce your position. Requesting permission

to enter defensive perimeter, please respond.”

Another deaf silence had broken only by the scratchy sounds of radio static. We proceeded forward

and the truth we had hope to avoid was realized as we approached the first defensive bunker. The

steel shell had been torn to shreds with bits and pieces of metal shards strewn across the valley

floor. Inside we found four separate pools of blood and a severed hand. We came across two more

bunkers each with the same result. Pools of blood and a variety of body parts with little to go on

other than we were too far to run and close enough to be trapped.

The platoon moved closer and closer till Fort Edison was before us. We had not seen a single soldier

on our way through the defenses, but had also not seen any sign of enemy movement.

Optimistically, we could have assumed that they had moved on after decimating the fort, realistically,

we figured that we were about to be ambushed. Murphy stopped one hundred feet in front of the forts

main gate. The fort walls remained intact, but we could see that it had been left in ruins. A variety of

fires had broken out and had spread throughout the compound. We watched as several buildings

collapsed from fire damage and it was clear that the likelihood of survivors was slim and none. It was

decided that we investigate the ruins, salvage what we could and try to re-establish contact with

central command and inform them of the situation.

Jimmy and I were given the unfortunate task of point guard. We ventured forward and held our breath

with each step. My eyes darted in every direction, with each noise or slight movement had me ready

to empty a clip into anything that move. A slight breeze or a shadow had my palms sweating and a

twitchy trigger finger waiting to pull. The platoon followed with Murphy leading the way. They were

only ten feet from us, but they may as well have been ten miles away. I said a silent pray as we

continued our ominous march.

We were halfway towards the main gate of Fort Edison when we felt a strange rumble below our feet.

It passed us by and we turned to watch as a cloud of dirt kicked up in front of those behind us. What

followed was the worst sight and sound I would ever see. A four foot spine had embedded in

Murphy’s leg and had torn through his thigh. He dropped his weapon and screamed so loud that it

embedded into the minds of every soldier on the field. The spine returned to the ground and pulled

half his leg with it. The limb snapped at the hip and Murphy lay helpless on the ground. A nearby

corporal raised his rifle to end Murphy’s pain, but was stabbed in the chest with a new set of spines.

The platoon broke and made a mad dash for the safety of the fort. Jimmy and I were the first to reach

its walls and turned to see half of the platoon behind us and the other half dead or dying on the

ground. We retreat inside and were helpless to watch the few survivors of the lurker ambush; being

dragged away screaming by rabid zerglings. Ten minutes later, the final screams stopped and we

were once again treated with silence.

The platoon was without a leader and we were desperate to find a way out. Many of us voted to

continue with the mission and try to get an evacuation from the fort as planned. Others voted to

escape under the cover of night, with the remaining few left crying and contemplating suicide. Jimmy

and a handful of privates began to check the fort for zerg and supplies. I set up our communications

array and tried to reach central command. Through the night, we kept a close watch over the fields,

with few if any of us getting any sleep. I sat by the fire and listened to the eerie quiet that surrounded

the camp. I sat and waited through the night and hoped that we would survive to see another

morning. Central command was not responding and time was running thin. The zerg knew we were

here and it would be just a matter of time before they finished us off. The next morning, we received a

message from central command.

“Your mission has been completed. Evacuation vessels will rendezvous with you at Fort Edison.

Area is zerg active and will be destroyed.”

Short, sweet, to the point and just what we wanted to hear. Another hour of waiting and we heard the

glorious sound of wraith engines. A squadron of wraiths and a lone dropship descended on our

position. From the dropship stepped a lone ghost trooper. He asked to speak with the commanding

officer and we informed him that we had none.

“What about Fort Edison’s personnel? Are there any survivors of their forces?”

“No, all Edison personnel are dead.”

“What about the computer system and all data from this facilities research labs?”

“We were able to salvage most of the material.”

“Where is it?”

“We transferred it to our data systems.”

“I’ll need those.”

We gave the ghosts the data and waited as he scanned the data for content. We finished his scan

and stored the disk in his pack.

“Are we going to evacuate on that single transport?”

“No, your mission is complete. This is where I leave you.”

“Leave us! You can’t leave us here!”

“I’m afraid we can. You see, you and your platoon was merely bait in order to lure the zerg to a

central position. Once they are gathered together, we can eliminate zerg presence in this sector in

one fail swoop.”

The ghost pointed to his nuke targeting laser and we knew what the real plan was. Ask he said, we

were bait and bait is expendable.

“You are not leaving us here. We are coming with you weather you like it or not.”

“And how can you do that, when you can’t see what your after?”

The ghost cloaked and walked away while we tried in vain to stop him. The zerg had awoken and

immediately went after breakfast. The wraiths cloaked and flew after a nearby overlord that

threatened their trap. We were left with no options with zerg and terrans threatening to kill us. I

looked up to see the dropship still hovering above us. If they didn’t want to land for us, we could bring

them to us.

I pointed my rifle trained on the hull and fired a few rounds. The shells startled the pilot and over the

com we made our demands.

“Land now, or we blow you out of the sky!”

The pilot agreed and we had our evac ready to go. We took off and we saw the violent flash of a nuke

level the fort, zetg and all valley life.

That was about a month ago, just about the time you were getting out of boot right? Listen, I have a

piece of advice for you that you need to hear. Trust me on this, I know.

“You know who the real enemy is? Its us, not me and you but our own leaders are the ones who are

against us. They don’t care about what happens to us. If we die so what, they get a few more. It’s

the truth and I’ll be damned if I let these bastards screw with me. I’m taking matters into my own

hands and I suggest you take a good hard look around. Paranoid? You don’t know what paranoia

truly is. Paranoia is funny, because it’s never paranoia when you’re right.”