Ghost 26831 was trying to conserve his energy and use the foliage and terrain to conceal himself from sight but this, coupled with his injuries, meant he was going incredibly slowly and he knew that his goal was of the utmost urgency. He couldn't delay, lives depended on it.
Running from cover to cover he focused on the task at hand and kept ignoring the pain, hoping that his suit would not only keep him from sight but also keep him from dying.
* * * * *
Fields could see nothing, pitch black filling his vision as he found it hard to breathe and struggled to move. He gasped for air and tried to call out but he felt his chest and stomach seize up in protest and pain. A high pitched whine began to fill his ears accentuated by several dull thuds. Fields reached out in front of him to take hold of something and discover where he was. Nothing in front of him he put his arm to his side and found solid ground. He was lying on his back. He tried once more to speak, cry out, but once more nothing but a wheeze emerged from his lips.
Something grabbed him. Even through his suit he could feel the sudden impact of a firm grip and then getting dragged across uneven and rocky ground that made his whole body rattle from the vibrations, causing his stomach muscles to tense and intensify the already unbearable pain that had him frozen in this vulnerable position. Fields didn't even attempt to resist whatever was dragging him so forcefully along the ground, he had no strength with which he could fight. Despite this there was a red tinge around the edges of his vision and it seemed to be taking over the pitch black. The dull thuds were also becoming louder but whether that was simply because he was getting closer to their source he simply couldn't tell. At times something else could be heard along with the thuds, a much sharper sound that was not as deep as the other noises. He tried to listen more carefully.
“Fields!” He could not tell who was calling out to him as it was nothing more than a muffled scream that Fields would never have made out were it not as familiar to him as his own name. He tried to respond but to no avail.
“Fields!” Kalkar called out once again as he dragged Fields away from the wreckage of the bunker they were in but there was still no response. Perhaps he was simply dragging a corpse, which he also felt for the limp figure of Anders, whom he held on to tightly as Anders bounced on his shoulder. Kalkar was running as fast as he could but with these two in tow, dead or unconscious, he was slowed down dramatically.
A siege tank shell exploded right in front of Kalkar, causing him to halt momentarily. He looked over to where the shell had come and saw that the tank itself was being overrun by a swarm of zerglings that were scuttling over it's hull and were viciously tearing at the metal. Kalkar could see the voracious glare in their eyes as they hopped around excitedly, revelling mindlessly in the destruction all around. Dark, bony skin glistened and Kalkar thought he saw one of the zerglings look right at him. He couldn't tell as it was quickly cut down by a hail of bullets from a bunker near to the now destroyed siege tank that had nearly killed Kalkar. The dust and the debris from the explosion settled and Kalkar continued on his way, struggling with the burden of his two comrades.
“You two had better not be dead,” he muttered to himself.
“Soldier, identify yourself immediately.”
Through all of the gunfire and explosions, Kalkar had not noticed he was coming to the next line of bunkers. A small squad of a dozen marines were stood facing him, rifles at the ready, just in front of a bunker. He saw that the one who had demanded a response was a Major.
“Sir, Sergeant Bora Kalkar, sir.”
“And what exactly do you think you are doing away from your post, Sergeant?”
“Sir, saving these men from the wreckage of my post, sir.”
“The wreckage?” Kalkar paused for a moment.
“Sir, did you not see the baneling bust that they attempted? Sir.”
“No. I have just arrived on the battlefield, Sergeant, and I witnessed no such assault.”
“Sir, they are surging forwards as we speak.”
“Really? Turn around, soldier.” Kalkar let go of Fields' suit and turned, Anders still limp on his shoulder. True enough, the Zerg were falling back and from here the view looked no different than the one he had been staring at for hours. “See, no immediate threat there. Now, take your men and head to a medic station before coming right back here to continue fighting. Understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Kalkar grabbed a hold of Fields once more and continued past the Major and his marines. He did not feel comfortable about how short-lived that push was. Kalkar had fought the Zerg several times and they had always put on constant and unrelenting pressure, not quick all out assaults before falling back like this. The unease lingered on in the back of his mind as several other infantry groups marched past him, headed for the new front line.
Fields' hearing and sight were both slowly coming back to him and he had heard Kalkar's side of the conversation with the Major and he too knew something was not quite right with what was happening. They had both seen the overwhelming mass that had thrown itself at them to destroy their bunker. Had it been a concentrated assault on a small part of the bunker line? Was this merely a prelude to something bigger?
The Zerg were planning something, but what?




