|"First, my processor sucks more than Santa Claus and my modem blows more ass than Floppy the Fat sea otter. "|
|The Terrible Terran Touchpad Tragedy!|
|Date: ||10/08/11 12:10|
|Game Type: ||Starcraft 2|
|Report Rating: , # of Ratings: 1, Max: 8, Min: 8|
Lifetime Rating for Sabotage: 7.0476
|It was one of those mornings where you couldn't tell whether you'd overslept or not. The|
innumerable raindrops ricocheting off my window should have been enough to wake me up, but it had
been a rough week. There is only so much pain and suffering one can take, and as we get more
burdened every day we come closer and closer to complete withdrawal. I was close that day - on the
edge of the void of the Korpulu sector.
I think before we move on, you should know a bit more about me. I am now a college student,
and was once a carefree child with one too many hours to devote to writing battlereports. They're still
up there - and you can go see for yourself what I did with my brief childhood. But in the modern day, I
am a touchpad Starcraftplayer. In an act of depravity, someone (I think) borrowed my mouse as I was
packing to move back to campus for this semester. This has handicapped
my Terran abilities immensely, as I now struggle to win games that I
know I could have taken in my mouse days.
This particular morning, I immediately switched the TV to CNN to catch up on the happenings of
the world. More breakthroughs on Zerg genetic research, more protests
shut down by Emperor Mengsk, and more strained diplomatic relations with
Protoss warlords. Nothing new, nothing interesting. I saw from the
corner of my eye that my hologram table had a pending invite from
something. Slowly making my way over to the table, I started my coffee
maker en route and opted to open the message before collapsing in a
"Good morning, you have a pending Starcraft II game invite from 1337zurgplaya. Press the green
button, or say 'accept invite' to accept" it stated.
I was mentally preparing myself for a mouseless TvZ (using only a touchpad of course). Indeed, I
had already been beaten into a pulp from this disability for weeks on end. Having been a top level
platinum player just months ago, I was subsequently downgraded every day to the point where I was
stamped with a lowly gold ranking - and not even near the top of the
division. This was it! The chance I needed to prove to the galaxy that
players could stay competent without the use of a mouse. I would no
longer spend my nights crying and drunk, attempting to forget the
embarrassing losses to zealot rushes and void ray wipeouts.
The map was Lost Temple, and my blue Terran command center sat snugly on the left side of
the map awaiting my command. Sending all but one of my SCVs to gather, I (slowly) ordered the
construction of a seventh and sent the remaining one on a mission to
find the Zerg base. While I don't like to put my workers in unnecessary
danger, this was one exception. Something about this particular SCV was
off - maybe he was hit on the head one too many times throughout his
life. Still, I couldn't risk the possibility of that man constructing
something later that doesn't meet the strict Dominion military
standards. I was nearly relinquished of my position of Commander before
due to the faulty construction of an Engineering Bay, which had no
ventilation causing the death of hundreds of scientists due to a gas
"Commander, we're running out of supplies" an SCV hollered through the comm system.
"Alright, I want a supply depot set up near that ramp ASAP, followed by a Barracks for the
marines" I responded. Consulting my Dominion Wartime Tactics guide, the chapter written by Edmund
Duke suggests a physical barrier preventing the entry of alien hostiles
in bottleneck locations. This time, I wasn't going to screw up. No
deviations - the textbook was there for a reason. It has to work, right?
Remembering the blockhead SCV I sent out earlier, I called out for him on the comm system but
heard no response. Checking his planetary positioning record implied that he met a grim fate on the
right side of the map. It would be much later that we would find his SCV
suit damaged by the pincers of Zerg drones, not even Zerglings. He
almost deserved it, but maybe I'm being tough on the poor guy.
After recruiting my first platoon of marines (slowly, as I was still using the touchpad) I decided to
assault the enemy with everything I had, including my miners and the expedition's medic. Running
across the famous Lost Temple battleground alongside my marines and miners was a truly bizarre yet
thrilling experience. It wasn't often that I got to experience the true adrenaline rush of the battlefield.
Having spent years in the Dominion Military Academy studying formation
strategy and technology trees, I had developed into a cold and
calculating tactician. But not that day - for that one time in my life, I
was on the front lines as a soldier. The encouraging trash talk of the
Zerg got everyone laughing heartily as we rechecked our ammo clips and
set our sights on the enemy hatchery just at the edge of the horizon.
It wasn't long before we were a mere two miles from the enemy mineral line. We hadn't
encountered any resistance, but a distant overlord loomed in the
distance. While the textbooks used to say that the best way to harass
those overlord things was the call in a Wraith strike, we were too far
away from the fleet to call for help. We marched on, hoping for the best
but assuming the worst. It was at this time that we found that SCV that
I had sent out when we first landed on the Lost Temple.
It would be only a few minutes later that we arrived at the giant ramp leading up to the heart of
the hostile Zerg hive. While we did have two veterans with us, the green troops were very
uncomfortable running on creep - an issue we had serious problems with at first. The platoon stopped
short while I consulted our veterans for advice on the situation.
"So commander, we just gotta charge up that ramp and wipe their ugly alien asses off this
ground" shouted Nelly, the most experienced marine in the expedition. "These jokers don't got shit
except Zerglings at this point - we just empty our rounds directly into the head and they dead!"
I was taken aback by the confidence that this marine displayed. If it really was so easy, why were
the Zerg the most feared species in the known galaxy? I stayed on the
side of caution, giving orders to scout ahead before sending everyone
into a full blown invasion of the enemy. Two marines were sent out - one
up the ramp and one to a nearby mineral line that was presumed to be
vacant. It was about two minutes after they left that things would take a
turn for the worse.
"Commander, I get the sense that something shitty is about to happen. I don't like this" warned
the medic. She never told me her real name, but I referred to her as "Kitchen" since she was also
responsible for feeding me. Kitchen had an uncanny ability of sensing danger, so I actually took her
warning very seriously.
"Marines, I want you to get in formation in case shit hits the fan. Got it?" I ordered.
It was just after I issued this command that we got a distress call over the comm system from
the marine that had gone up the ramp.
"Zerg! ZERG!! Got a zergling down but there's another one closing the gap on me. Eat shit and
die!" the marine yelled over the sound of his gauss rifle.
"We've got to save him now. MOVE OUT!" I yelled, checking my gun one more time before
breaking out into a full sprint. A quick nod came from Nelly as he started sprinting up the ramp
alongside me. We weren't halfway up the ramp when we got another distress call from the other marine that was scouting the secondary mineral line.
"Commander, I'm fucked man. This is goodbye - There's too many of them. Get out of this place!"
It wasn't long before I realized my mistake. All those years of Dominion military training, and I
fell for one of the oldest tricks in the book. I turned around only to confirm my greatest fears - our only escape route was blocked by an enormous mob of the critters. For the first time in my life, I felt genuine fear course throughout me. Without a second thought, I aimed my pistol at the approaching swarm. Just before I was going to warn the others, Nelly let out a roar and encouraged us with one of his famous lines - "We're going to scrap these shits until the ground runs red!"
With the best accuracy I've ever had with my revolver, I blasted enormous holes in the heads of
the first line of zerglings rushing at us one after another. After six I would reload and shoot again with
utmost precision, popping zergling guts all over the soil surrounding the bottom of the ramp. The
marines were doing even better, fending off an enormous wave of the critters coming from the heart of the swarm. The deafening blasts of their gauss rifles silenced the squeals of pain let out by the Zerglings. The SCVs whirred the razor sharp drills attached to their arms in anticipation of driving it into a Zergling skull. For one moment of time, I had hope that we would all make it out of there alive. The cruelty of fate is that it often waits until the most inopportune moments to spring its nasty surprises at you.
Over the sound of the gauss rifles, we heard an incredibly loud screech coming from the
direction of the hive. I had heard the sound before in the training videos, but I prayed that I was wrong. Temporarily forsaking the advancing zerglings at the bottom of that godforsaken ramp, I turned around to confirm my worst nightmares. Indeed, a queen was stumbling towards us at an alarming rate. I realized that this was the end, but I vowed to destroy as much Zerg flesh as terranly possible before my flame was extinguished.
I aimed at the approaching queen and blew out one of her eyes with my revolver. It winced in
pain as I reloaded, and as it turned its ugly deformed head towards me I proceeded to blast three clean holes in its head as it advanced towards us. Despite my best efforts, the thing was intent on getting close to us to return the favor. It was at this point that the first Zergling broke our line, jumping on a marine. Another marine promptly aimed his gauss rifle to the head of the aggressor, and proceeded to blow its brains out all over the soil.
"Commander, a dropship is coming!" yelled Kitchen, before she got slashed and tackled by a
Zergling. Infuriated, I blasted the critter four times in the side of its head before running to her side and kicking the carcass off her body.
"I think I-I'm bleeding" she wimpered, tears forming in her eyes from the pain of the wound. I
attempted to reassure her quickly, before looking up and firing more rounds into the battle. I was out of ammo, with only my knife left to defend myself.
"Commander, I'll hold them off. GET ON THE DROPSHIP WHEN IT COMES" yelled the bloodied
Nelly, who was somehow surviving a one-on-one duel with the queen of the Zerg hive with the marines
and SCVs surrounding him getting ripped apart. I yelled something back about us all making it out of
there together, but he didn't hear me. The dropships were within a few seconds of landing. In
anticipation, I picked Kitchen up and ran in the direction of the dropship landing as fast as I could. I
looked back one last time and saw all my squadron – no; my companions, fending off the zerg as more and more jumped on top of them. When I got Kitchen onto a bench in the dropship, began to sprint back down the loading ramp to help.
"There are no survivors. If you run out there now, we have to leave you behind." said one of the
crew members. I knew he was right, and my eyes began to water out of frustration. I noticed a glass
case containing a handgun nearby, and smashed it. Although my tears blurred my vision, I could still
make out the blob of orange critters in the distance. I only managed to shoot eight rounds before the
closure of the loading ramp impeded my line of sight.
"I don't w-want to d-die like th-this" said a familiar voice. "I knew what I was getting myself into,
but it can't be like this." she continued. While dropships were outfitted with medical supplies, the organ damage that she sustained would only be treatable in an advanced medical facility. Upon request, I handed her morphine which she injected herself with. It allowed her to remain conscious while I continued to cower on the floor next to her.
"I'm not going to make it!" she exclaimed.
"Say something to get my mind off this pain" she interrupted. The morphine did wonders for
her, as she stopped stuttering. Either that or her body was beginning to lose sensation.
"Do you believe in god?"
"Always have, Commander. I know he's waiting if I die today, so I guess it makes things better"
"You're right - but it's not your time yet. Get some rest" I responded. I stood over her and stared
out the window just over the bench she was laying on. Pale white clouds covered the battlefield that I
had nearly lost my life on. The blood and gore of the battle remained clouded from my vision, but not
from my thoughts. I promptly hit F10 and quit the game.
Yes, I lost the damn game. Damn it, why did I rush marines without any medivacs? Still, Zerg
never expect marine rushes! Well, then again I guess the speed matters, and I’m a very slow player
indeed until I get a mouse. I am forever doomed to gold league or worse until this changes. This harsh reality is something I’ve grown to accept in the last hour while typing up this report.