As most people will know, I currently have an obsession with the PC game, 'Starcraft', created by Blizzard Entertainment. I recently discovered that a series of books had been published, all of which were deemed part of the Starcraft universe - subsequently, I bought them all. I'm only so far through reading them but they, along with FFF Crisis, have inspired me to actually write myself.
What is missing from the Starcraft book series is a novelisation of the actual events in the game. As such, I have started to novelise the original story of Starcraft. Episodes I - III (from the original game) concern the Terran, Zerg and Protoss, respecitvely, while episodes IV - VI (from the expansion pack, 'Brood War') concern the Protoss, Terran and Zerg, also respectively. It'll take me a long time to get through this but I think it'll be worth it.
By the way, a little background knowledge might be required for various parts of the chapters. I know that I'm practically the only Starcraft player here and, as such, I'll explain any unknown idea/concept/word before each chapter.
The paragraphing is slightly off because of how it's pasted from Microsoft Word but I'll make sure it's always clear. I assure you, it's better on my copy. xD
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Episode I
Comments: I've not nearly finished this, since it will be divided into a number of chapters, likely telling the tale of each mission in turn. To make sure that I'm writing well enough to continue, I've decided to post a small excerpt from chapter one.
What is missing from the Starcraft book series is a novelisation of the actual events in the game. As such, I have started to novelise the original story of Starcraft. Episodes I - III (from the original game) concern the Terran, Zerg and Protoss, respecitvely, while episodes IV - VI (from the expansion pack, 'Brood War') concern the Protoss, Terran and Zerg, also respectively. It'll take me a long time to get through this but I think it'll be worth it.
By the way, a little background knowledge might be required for various parts of the chapters. I know that I'm practically the only Starcraft player here and, as such, I'll explain any unknown idea/concept/word before each chapter.
The paragraphing is slightly off because of how it's pasted from Microsoft Word but I'll make sure it's always clear. I assure you, it's better on my copy. xD
--------------------------------------------------
Episode I
Comments: I've not nearly finished this, since it will be divided into a number of chapters, likely telling the tale of each mission in turn. To make sure that I'm writing well enough to continue, I've decided to post a small excerpt from chapter one.
Chapter I - Infested
Creep. That was what the magistrates said it was called – the living ground, which indicated the presence of the Zerg swarm. The living ground that struck terror into the heart of any Terran soul was shrinking away into the crevice left when a Firebat squadron scorched the remainder of the blockade, surrounding a small Confederate colony of Mar Sara. Under the command of local marshal, James Raynor, the stranded colony was free to evacuate the area.<o
></o>
The sight of death was not unknown to Raynor and yet the destruction of the Zerg structure terrified him. He stared in wonderment as he was presented with the reality that the Zerg were a very real force with which to be reckoned. The news reports, briefings and stories were vague, at best, when describing the infestation of an alien force. However, for Raynor and his squad, bullets were best-selling novelists.
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Raynor, in his assigned Terran Vulture, led his squad of Firebats towards the now-empty Command Centre. Never for a minute forgetting their ranks, the squad stood, gargoyle-like, as Raynor stepped out from his vehicle.<o></o>
Easy, boys – the last thing we need are a couple ‘more stiffs!’ he bellowed, taking his hat off and facing the marks behind the Centre, respectfully so. ‘The turrets over there will catch any critter that wanders in, so get in and have a well-deserved rest.’<o></o>
The Firebat squadron casually marched over to the nearby Barracks, while Raynor took the time to familiarise himself with the interior of the Command Centre, with the new Commander at his stride. Raynor’s eye followed the scratch marks on the doors, where Zerg had clearly infiltrated the structure before being eradicated and removed. The dreaded hissing and clicking –the sound of walking, or crawling, death—always brought scratches. They often brought a number of scratches, each one left by any of the countless members of the Swarm. Where there were scratches, there were screams – alas, the screaming would not last for long.<o></o>
His mind wandered and he considered why un-trained civilians were being sent to an unknown enemy frontline. Was this all in the name of research? This mess, this bloodbath … could it have been for the sake of new lab-rats for the Science Vessels? Whatever the case, Raynor’s job was to liberate the breached colony. Marshal James Raynor was good at his job.<o></o>
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The Command Centre was small and Raynor found himself in the communications room fairly quickly. Clearly only meant to contain one person at a time, he squeezed into the room and sat himself on the small stool provided, while his commander –his babysitter—could only peer inside and observe how Raynor behaved. Being one of the few trained to do so, Raynor put his technical education to the test and coded for an alcoholic beverage, which materialised beside him. His local pub back on Earth never had such an addition and so he justified his position in Space through technology’s contribution to convenience - quite rightly so.<o></o>
The computer was small but performed its functions quickly, as Raynor found that his request for back-up was answered quickly, along with new orders from the Terran Dominion:<o></o>
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“Marshal James Raynor, you have been charged with securing this colony from the Alien infestation by eradicating the remainder of the Swarm from Mar Sara. The Confederacy of Man, under the command of General Edmund Duke, will arrive shortly after you are successful in this objective. We expect all structures to be as they were when evacuation was necessary. Good luck.”<o></o>
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Brilliant. At least his mind’s tangents were off – he would not be told to ‘eradicate’ a study. He thought of General Duke and the last time he’d seen him – not personally, but the Confederacy found it particularly necessary to laud his promotion as the essential owner of the highly-acclaimed Norad II – an immensely large Battlecruiser, always at the front of any full-scale assault. His posture was his most notable feature – slouched over, much like a wild primate on Earth. Duke’s attitude to those around him reflected this animalism. Indeed, Edmund Duke was a power on his own but, with that ship, the Norad II, he was essentially the single most powerful force in the Confederacy.<o></o>
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“Alright. So, Commander, let’s get going,” Raynor sighed, hoisting himself out of the small room, disposing of his now-empty can of beer – he’d always been a beer man.<o></o>
It wasn’t until Raynor left the Command Centre and took one deep breath of the air on Mar Sara that he realised that the Zerg brought with them a horrible stench. Possessing scythes, spewing unknown chemicals and acting on animal instinct meant that every one of the Zerg Swarm had killed, at one point or another. It had not occurred to Raynor until now that the Zerg never wash – every soul claimed by the Swarm added one more cringe for anyone with an active nose. The Commander had continued to walk to the Barracks and made ready each of the Marines and Firebats – the basic infantry units of the Terran race.<o></o>
<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o></o>
Of course, the Marines and Firebats were not fighting for the sake of their race. In fact, as far as they knew, they were not fighting at all, the important point here being that they were not aware of anything beyond an order. Raynor was informed before leaving for Mar Sara about how the Confederacy recruited its infantry – prisoners and convinced felons alike were ‘rehabilitated’ into fighting for their race. Anyone with a basic level of competence knew that ‘rehabilitated’ actually meant ‘resocialised.’ Anyone with a keen intuition knew that ‘resocialised’ meant ‘used as test-subjects for Confederate scientists’. Anyone with a badge meant that these men had been thrown into space to protect the Confederate colonies and the only way to force them to do this was to attack their minds with various drugs. The truth, of course, was the latter, though any despicable rumour spread was rarely ever denied – it was always silenced rather quickly, instead.<o></o>
></o>The sight of death was not unknown to Raynor and yet the destruction of the Zerg structure terrified him. He stared in wonderment as he was presented with the reality that the Zerg were a very real force with which to be reckoned. The news reports, briefings and stories were vague, at best, when describing the infestation of an alien force. However, for Raynor and his squad, bullets were best-selling novelists.
<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o
></o>Raynor, in his assigned Terran Vulture, led his squad of Firebats towards the now-empty Command Centre. Never for a minute forgetting their ranks, the squad stood, gargoyle-like, as Raynor stepped out from his vehicle.<o
></o>Easy, boys – the last thing we need are a couple ‘more stiffs!’ he bellowed, taking his hat off and facing the marks behind the Centre, respectfully so. ‘The turrets over there will catch any critter that wanders in, so get in and have a well-deserved rest.’<o
></o>The Firebat squadron casually marched over to the nearby Barracks, while Raynor took the time to familiarise himself with the interior of the Command Centre, with the new Commander at his stride. Raynor’s eye followed the scratch marks on the doors, where Zerg had clearly infiltrated the structure before being eradicated and removed. The dreaded hissing and clicking –the sound of walking, or crawling, death—always brought scratches. They often brought a number of scratches, each one left by any of the countless members of the Swarm. Where there were scratches, there were screams – alas, the screaming would not last for long.<o
></o>His mind wandered and he considered why un-trained civilians were being sent to an unknown enemy frontline. Was this all in the name of research? This mess, this bloodbath … could it have been for the sake of new lab-rats for the Science Vessels? Whatever the case, Raynor’s job was to liberate the breached colony. Marshal James Raynor was good at his job.<o
></o><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o
></o>The Command Centre was small and Raynor found himself in the communications room fairly quickly. Clearly only meant to contain one person at a time, he squeezed into the room and sat himself on the small stool provided, while his commander –his babysitter—could only peer inside and observe how Raynor behaved. Being one of the few trained to do so, Raynor put his technical education to the test and coded for an alcoholic beverage, which materialised beside him. His local pub back on Earth never had such an addition and so he justified his position in Space through technology’s contribution to convenience - quite rightly so.<o
></o>The computer was small but performed its functions quickly, as Raynor found that his request for back-up was answered quickly, along with new orders from the Terran Dominion:<o
></o><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o
></o>“Marshal James Raynor, you have been charged with securing this colony from the Alien infestation by eradicating the remainder of the Swarm from Mar Sara. The Confederacy of Man, under the command of General Edmund Duke, will arrive shortly after you are successful in this objective. We expect all structures to be as they were when evacuation was necessary. Good luck.”<o
></o><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o
></o>Brilliant. At least his mind’s tangents were off – he would not be told to ‘eradicate’ a study. He thought of General Duke and the last time he’d seen him – not personally, but the Confederacy found it particularly necessary to laud his promotion as the essential owner of the highly-acclaimed Norad II – an immensely large Battlecruiser, always at the front of any full-scale assault. His posture was his most notable feature – slouched over, much like a wild primate on Earth. Duke’s attitude to those around him reflected this animalism. Indeed, Edmund Duke was a power on his own but, with that ship, the Norad II, he was essentially the single most powerful force in the Confederacy.<o
></o><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o
></o>“Alright. So, Commander, let’s get going,” Raynor sighed, hoisting himself out of the small room, disposing of his now-empty can of beer – he’d always been a beer man.<o
></o>It wasn’t until Raynor left the Command Centre and took one deep breath of the air on Mar Sara that he realised that the Zerg brought with them a horrible stench. Possessing scythes, spewing unknown chemicals and acting on animal instinct meant that every one of the Zerg Swarm had killed, at one point or another. It had not occurred to Raynor until now that the Zerg never wash – every soul claimed by the Swarm added one more cringe for anyone with an active nose. The Commander had continued to walk to the Barracks and made ready each of the Marines and Firebats – the basic infantry units of the Terran race.<o
></o><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--> <!--[endif]--><o
></o>Of course, the Marines and Firebats were not fighting for the sake of their race. In fact, as far as they knew, they were not fighting at all, the important point here being that they were not aware of anything beyond an order. Raynor was informed before leaving for Mar Sara about how the Confederacy recruited its infantry – prisoners and convinced felons alike were ‘rehabilitated’ into fighting for their race. Anyone with a basic level of competence knew that ‘rehabilitated’ actually meant ‘resocialised.’ Anyone with a keen intuition knew that ‘resocialised’ meant ‘used as test-subjects for Confederate scientists’. Anyone with a badge meant that these men had been thrown into space to protect the Confederate colonies and the only way to force them to do this was to attack their minds with various drugs. The truth, of course, was the latter, though any despicable rumour spread was rarely ever denied – it was always silenced rather quickly, instead.<o
></o>
