installation, it burst through the cloud cover with ease and careered off into space. The brightness of the energy burst almost blinding the occupants of the approaching shuttle.
The E.D. F craft gently set down a few minutes later, near to the remnants of the devastated Dracos assault landers, its small landing lights illuminating the ragged twisted black metal of the downed craft.
While the shuttle was on the surface, the four Dracos imprisoned within the Eisenhower’s brig had plans of their own in mind. Their suits only had another twenty four hours worth of power left in them, and they did not wish to waste it being confined to this primitive vessel’s detention area.
They had lost their uplink to the Blade of Rhovanion when it departed the system, so they were alone, and although the E.D. F guards had removed their eviscerator rifles, wrist blades, and silencers. They were not altogether unarmed, one of them looked up, seeing a small grille supplying fresh air into each of the cells. Using the still functioning magnetic properties of their suits they slowly, quietly crawled their way to this grille, and, taking the greatest of care not to make a sound, opened it. The lone guard hearing nothing untoward, continued to stand with his back to them.
The four Kallan silently crept out from their cell, and made their way along this tiny air duct, barely large enough for them to crawl inside.
There was an opening to the main walkway of the ship’s brig, where the guard, still unknowing, stood below them, weapon in hand.
The Dracos though, had more than just wrist blades, as the guard would soon learn to his cost, one of the warriors flicked out two small, yet incredibly sharp blades from the front of his boots. The warrior waited for the perfect opportunity, as the guard scanned the walkway and corridor beyond, for just the instant when the hapless soldier would look away. Eventually he did so, and immediately the Dracos warrior sprang into action, bursting from the grate in a blur of black bodysuit, he swung from it with both hands, before launching himself, and slamming his feet hard into the startled soldiers chest. The blades bit deep, the victim hardly had time to even blink as he fell backwards in a spray of blood from the impact.
He took the troopers weapon, sidearm and passkey, while the unfortunate soldier was still convulsing and gurgling on his own blood, much to the delight of his assailant. With a gentle whisper of “shush now,” the Kallan placed both hands either side of the man’s head and twisted sharply, the sickening crunch of neck snapping rang out loudly, the victim lay silent, and the Dracos had found a new hunting ground.
Michael, Nikolai, and Kathryn emerged from the just landed shuttle, donning full breathing apparatus and flanked by the four E.D. F commandoes accompanying them.
They made it rather quickly to the now blasted hatch, the wind howled around the giant focusing pylons, the one on the far side of the aperture partially blotted out the sun, casting them all into shadow. Michael could feel the cold wind through his combat fatigues, he shivered and wondered why in the world would the Dracos build such an important facility on such a blatantly inhospitable world, probably just down to desperate measures, he guessed. The thought intrigued him as he pressed on, following the others down the dark flight of steps and into the bowels of the facility once more.
“Okay comrades, nows the time to remain focused,” Nikolai said, speaking into a tiny microphone inside his breathing gear.
The lights were all still out, and the illumination from their torches cast strange shadows along the length of the dark shaft, just as they did when they first ventured down.
“Kathryn, are you okay?” Michael asked with genuine concern.
“I’m fine.” She lied, as she continued to descend, helped in part by Nikolai. No-one wanted her to aggravate the injury to her leg. With each new step she took, she shuddered just a little more. Not from the cold winds blowing in from the surface, but from fear, she was descending back into her nightmare. Both Michael and Nikolai were worried for her, and neither had really wanted her to do this, but she was the only one who knew the location of that main control room.
“We have to keep descending, it’s on the third floor,” she said, her voice betraying only a little of her pent up emotions.
“We’re right behind you Kathryn, lead on, we are with you every step of the way.”
The going was painfully slow as they descended the long dark steps built into the now defunct lift shaft. After another half hour later, they came upon an opening which signified the first of the three floors. Pressing on slowly, they passed the entrance to the second floor.
“It’s only about twenty rungs to the third floor now.” Kathryn announced, her left leg felt painful from the constant stresses and strains the descent placed on her newly operated on muscles and tendons.
Eventually the small group found the entrance to the third and final floor, the howling winds gave off a type of eerie groan to the place, and each footfall seemed to echo into the darkness beyond.
The pain was beginning to get too much to bear for Kathryn, “I have to rest a moment.”
“No problem, take all the time you need.” Michael smiled through the darkness at her.
Nikolai signalled to his commandoes to fan out, forming a half sphere of protection to those within, while the Russian himself took out a small plastic canteen of water, offered it to Kathryn, who gingerly took a few sips, then to the others, before guzzling some himself.
Logameier was perusing the control panels of the security station, as well as the hieroglyphs adorning the walls, “you know for three hundred year old technology, this is remarkably advanced.”
“That’s what Kalschacht and Gomez thought.” Kathryn replied between gasps of pain.
“I bet in their day, these guys where a real rival to the Solarians. No wonder their attempted coup scared the bejesus out of them, and they went on to chase them out of their territory.”
“What I don’t get is; if these Dracos were so powerful. Why didn’t they just create their own empire?” Nikolai asked.
“Because the Dracos were already severely weakened by their failed coup, and the Solarians chasing them through their territory made it worse, any empire the Dracos may have made wouldn’t have lasted long before the Solarians came calling again. So the Dracos used the only option they had left at the time; they went into hiding.”
“It sounds a little like a coward’s way out to me,” Nikolai replied as he shone his torch over the interior of the security booth.
“Not really, don’t forget their entire race was under the threat of extinction, by going into hiding, they ensured that they at least survived.”
“Perhaps; I’m glad I’m not a president, just a soldier, I have an enemy and I kill it, nice and simple.”
His reply raised a few smiles from the accompanying commandoes who were trained in exactly the same way.
“Okay, I think I’m ready to go on again now,” Kathryn said, “at least its level ground from here on in.”
The group continued on their long walk through the three kilometre long, third floor, passing the barren Dracos chief scientist’s office. The gentle tap of Kathryn’s walking stick echoed through the long deserted dark corridor.
They came to the science maintenance stores, where Rachthausen had cunningly rigged up that small laser welder. He was so proud of himself at the accomplishment; the thought gave Kathryn a warm smile. Although it felt kind of strange, almost as if the spirit of Rachthausen was still with her as she soldiered on, willing her to finish this, to put the nightmare to rest. She dismissed it as little more than wishful thinking.
They carried on until they came upon the next room, Kathryn immediately froze, terrified as she relived the horror that went on in there. It was the briefing room, blood spatter still coated the walls, and stained the floor from the now removed bodies of the dead scientists. The wall directly opposite to the doors was studded with dozens of tiny craters from pulse rifles and pistols used in the desperate last defence of the men and women inside.
It was almost as if she could hear their dying screams, the swish of a Dracos blade scything down another of her team, her friends. “Noooo!” She cried out, unable to cope with the flood of awful images this horrific place assaulted her mind with.
“It’s okay Kathryn, we’re here,” Michael said.
“No! It’s not okay Michael, this is where they died, you didn’t hear their screams, the screams of agony, and
