I orientated on the map and gave the task to my computer to calculate the course to the desired point, taking into account the terrain. It offered three options, but I could not choose any of them, because our squad leader choosed his own route, called 'straight from point A to point B'. Brilliant!
After that, we rushed straight through the windfall, breaking trees like thin twigs and spreading the crackle and gnashing for miles ahead. Apparently, most soldiers were trained to fight in the city, so once in the jungle, the commander had to be guided by his own thoughts about how reality works. Thoughts that are very far from this reality.
"Gregor, they say you're a psionicist now?" One of the soldiers spoke to me over a closed channel. I noticed that a whole group of five people had already formed here, creating their own voice chat. Memory suggested that all these people are my drinking companions, with whom the previous owner of this body was familiar for many years.
"Suppose yes.” I replied, joining the chat.
"They say psionics are always lucky to stay alive.” His comrade continued his hints
"Stay close to me, and everything will be all right." Of my five allies, four had experience of fighting in the wild, so it was obvious to them that our commander was an impenetrable dummy. Moreover, impassable in the most literal sense, because we just ran into a swamp, in which this very commander is stuck to the top of his head. “It seems that it is time to appoint a new commander.” I chuckled.
Unfortunately, instead of leaving the local Susanin in the swamp, we spent fifteen minutes to pull him and five other 'rescuers' out of the quagmire. After that, our 'guide' came up with the idea to request a route from the onboard computer and chose the most longest of them.
About a couple of hours later, when we were nearing our destination, I decided to make my move.
"Sir, I suggest to send a small group of scouts to the top of this hill.” I send message to general communication channel to the commander, dropping the mark on the map. He found me in the middle of the crowd, looked up at the rocky hill next to me, and replied sarcastically.
"You think you're the smartest? If you're so smart, you'll get in there yourself. Choose five support people, and in ten minutes I need to have a picture of the enemy camp.”
"Yes, sir." I answered, smirking inwardly. My 'team' followed me without talking.
For the past ten minutes I'd been aware of angry views directed at me, so we were going to meet the Zergs in the very near future. Despite the seeming inaccessibility, it was possible to climb to the top of the hill without any problems. Here we carefully cut down several trees, forming a good observation platform. It wasn't exactly a covert method of observation, but if you do not look closely, it was difficult to notice us.
I had a view of the Zergs’ base. The area the size of a couple of football fields was covered with purple creep that glistened after the past rain. I immediately recognized the Hive, the Spawn pool, and the Roach Warren, and my attention was drawn to the deposit of crystals. It was a whole cluster of beautiful bluish drusen, around which stoking creatures resembling beetles.
“Transmitting the image.” I reported to the squad leader, at same time sending a live video stream to the base. Downstairs, the radio communication was already working with interruptions, but at the top of the hill the connection with the base was excellent.
“Private” the dispatcher immediately contacted me, “I order you to remain at the observation point and film the attack of our troops on the enemy camp. This is a priority order.”
“Yes sir.” I smirked again. Actually, this was my plan from the beginning - to watch what is happening from the side, and then retreat quietly back to the base. Well, or still there was an option of capturing one of the Zergs and study it.
There was no point in remaining be human to achieve my goals. Human here or in Afrika is the same. But becoming a Zerg is much more interesting. I remember that in the first StarCraft mentioned infecting people with Zerg DNA, after which they became members of the swarm. I'll just have to make sure that I don't to be brainwashed like everyone else. In that case, it will be a very funny ending to my career.
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The attack on the Zergs’ base was as poorly organized as the way to it. No, for urban combat, their tactics may not have been the worst. All the soldiers were divided to groups consisting three soldiers, spread out in a semicircle, and then the command to attack were given.
Slightly frightened soldiers came on the slime, trampled a little, getting used to it, and then began to crawl forward, immediately watering the 'beetles-workers' with machine guns. This, in fact, was the end of the attack. A couple of hundred 'cockroaches' emerged from the ground and cleared the area in five seconds. Scattered groups of soldiers were surrounded by superior enemy forces and even before they realized it, they were torn apart and dissolved in acid.
"Well, actually, it is all.” I said thoughtfully, watching as most of the cockroaches were burying themselves back in the ground and a smaller group is started move to us. "Now it's time to go!"
Our group of six survivors abruptly fell off to the ground and ran down the hill, weaving between the trees. My computer immediately provided several options for the route options, from which I chose the one that passed along the bottom of the gorge between the two hills. There, according to satellite scans of the area, was a suitable place for an ambush.
We managed to get to the right place, but the cockroaches were already on our tail. Fortunately, there were only three of them running right behind us, so we had a chance to survive. Five of my companions hid behind a passageway between two tall rocks, and I climbed up the slope and crouched in the bushes, watching the approaching cockroaches.
The Zerg were 'not-experienced', so they didn't have such a quality as caution. Without a doubt, they ran into a narrow passageway where they were met by a fortified battle point. The soldiers crouched behind the rocks and opened fire on my command to suppress them. Two roaches were stuck in the passageway, interfering with each other. One tried to back away, while the other pushed forward, pushing his comrade into our fire. The creatures hesitated only for a couple of seconds, but it was enough to turn the first zerg into a walking colander.
Like a true kamikaze, I ran through one of the rocks and jumped on the back of the third roach, after which a burst of machine gun fire began to hollow a path through the back to its brain. I could see my goal clearly with the help of chakra-based techniques, but the Zerg couldn't throw me off his back because I had glued my legs to its spine with the chakra.
After that, we threw grenades to the second roach. He was 'stuck' in a narrow passageway between two corpses of his comrades, so there was no escape route.
"How do we them?... One or two and ready!” One of my companions shouted nervously.
"We don't have time to relax.” I said. " Two dozen more are running behind us. Keep moving”
And we ran again. Just like Forrest Gump. At least there was no physical exertion from this run. Reinforced armor, we can say, ran itself, and the soldiers could only set the pace of movement of legs and arms. But such loads also did not pass without a trace, because the armor was not intended for long-distance races. In this mode, the nodes of the joints quickly wore out, and by the time we returned to the base, we could well become 'disabled', in need of serious repairs.
After another ten minutes, I noticed that the pursuit of us had stopped. The roaches turned around and gradually rushed back to the hive.
"That's it, take rest!” I gave the command. In our case, this meant not physical rest, but maintenance of the suit, requiring immobility.
"Are you sure they're not after us?" One of the soldiers asked.
“I am sure. But don't forget to look around. Who knows how many there are?”
"What are we going to do next?”
“According to the instructions, we need to contact the base and get an order to return.”
My companions looked at each other. Communication with the base is always bad, because for the assholes sitting there, the value of a soldiers' lives is about the same as its value in Starcraft for gamers. That is somewhere at the level of consumables. But it is also impossible to do otherwise, because all actions of the soldiers are recording, and after returning to the base they will be analyzed for violations of the instructions.
We had to climb the nearest hill to establish a stable connection.
"Base, this is private Gregor Graham. Our squad was destroyed by the enemy. Only six people survived. Spacesuits resource seventy percent. Requesting permission to return.” I reported.
"Denied, private." A disgruntled voice answered me. “Your group is assigned to conduct a sabotage operation in the enemy's camp. According to the record you sent, our analysts found an individual identified as female.” I got an image of the Queen on my computer. "It is she who directs the other members of the swarm and lays eggs for reproduction. You must destroy her, no matter of cost.”
When in the order sounded the wording 'no matter of cost', it usually meant at the cost of our own life. And in confirmation of these words, a countdown timer set for two hours was activated on the computer screen. If during this time we do not confirm the performance of the task, in the spacesuits will work self-destruct charge. This practice was quite common, because at least a third of the troops were formed at the expense of prisoners. And as I mentioned, there was no way to get out of the spacesuit by yourself.