planet surface, with such incredible force that it threw up a great cloud of earth and dust over a thousand metres into the air, before settling into a crater almost a kilometre across. Small fires littered the basin where the remains of the devastated ship lay, the thick plume of smoke that heralded its arrival seemed to grow steadily wider, before it too began to disperse.
The torn hull fragments of the rear half of the ship rained down through the thick pall of methane clouds, like a plethora of dark streamers, before they too slammed into the ground themselves.
Kinraid simply watched awestruck, as did the entire bridge crew of the Liberty. For minutes afterwards debris continued to fall in little black and grey shoots to the ground, he had never seen anything quite like it, it was as if the planet had just been struck by a meteorite; and to all intents, it had.
Michael, Kathryn, Nikolai and the accompanying commandoes all witnessed the gigantic blast created by the crashing Eisenhower, in fact the shockwave from the impact had blown them all completely off their feet. They gradually stood and shook themselves off, looking upon the plume of smoke, earth and dust, rising steadily higher into the atmosphere, they could see the bright fiery streamers of falling debris, looking like a swarm of miniature shooting stars.
The three surviving Dracos however had lived through the colossal impact, in fact they had jumped clear of the wreckage several seconds before it had slammed into the ground, using their cat-like acrobatics to literally leap from torn outer hull fragment to torn outer hull fragment, eventually landing hard on the ground itself. The strength of their suits protected them from the worst of the landing, the shockwave of course flattened them all, though they had expected this and so kept their bodies as close to the ground as possible, so that the immense blast wave passed reasonably harmlessly over them.
Once they had returned to full consciousness several minutes later, they found that they could move easily enough, nothing was broken, and other than a few minor cuts and scrapes, were ready to resume the hunt; and that they did, with gusto as they ran the rest of the way straight toward the Dracos facility.
Michael, together with the rest of the party on the surface, were beginning the walk back toward the shuttle, the funeral service having been concluded and having observed a two minute silence for the fallen sergeant.
He knew what he saw was no meteor strike or asteroid, the combined firepower of the fleet in orbit would have either destroyed it or at the very least, diverted it away from the planet. No, that was a ship, but which one? Something had happened in orbit, and he was anxious to get to the shuttle so he could contact the Liberty and find out.
Taneth, Kallos, and Aelthris all sprinted toward the base, then they picked up the thermal signatures of Michael’s party and instantly flattened to the ground, their black shapes virtually invisible as they stooped so low amongst the undergrowth. This was it Kallos thought, the hunt would soon be over, and he would be victorious; he would be the one who claimed the Eye of the Dracos for his people, and rid the planet of this alien scum. He would return to Corvandris a hero, one who had done what that fool Drax could not. He would have to be careful though, this new species were a worthy adversary, and dangerous. He respected them almost as much as he hated them.
The trio crept closer to the group, strolling toward one of their own landing craft, it looked a poor comparison to the Dracos assault landers Kallos was accustomed to.
The party was making slow progress, hampered by an injured female with a slight limp, they would deal with her in their own time. This would make the final kill all the more easier Kallos grinned, he was going to enjoy what was to come.
The three Kallan patiently crept to within thirty feet of their target, like big cats stalking their prey, still the humans had not noticed them. Aelthris readied her eviscerator rifle, Kallos drew his pistol and waited for a clear shot with his silencer.
The time had come, and with a silent nod of his dark battlehelm, Kallos began the assault.
Virtually silenced by the noise of the winds, three eviscerator discs slammed into the back and neck of the closest commando, he fell without a sound as his head was efficiently severed from the poor man’s body.
The only sound that was audible were the impacts of the ammunition slicing into the fateful commandoes body, a noise similar to a cleaver slicing through thick meat.
Before the patrol had even realised what was happening, Kallos had dispatched another with a well aimed shot to the spine, the paralysed commando simply crumpled to the ground, this however the party did hear.
“Holy shit!” Michael shouted as he whirled around at the sound, and saw the two bodies laid in front of him not six feet away.
“Get to the shuttle, NOW!” Vargev barked, “We’ll deal with this.”
Taneth was first into action, leaping high into the air as he fired round after round into the commandoes, one was shot through the leg, another lodged in his upper arm. The soldier screamed as the acid took its effect, yet battled to remain focused despite the acute pain. Unfortunately his focus ended as Taneth landed, blade first, on top of him.
The Dracos warrior kicked out at the other commando almost immediately, sending the trooper clattering to the dirt. Nikolai, however ended his marauding killing spree, by gunning him down mercilessly with his Armschlager, the heavy assault rifle bucked as high velocity slugs tore through the Kallan warrior, almost sawing him in half, at that range Vargev could not miss, and Taneth collapsed into a bloodied mess just yards from the colonels feet.
Michael, Kathryn, and Logameier were nearing the shuttle, Michael knew Nikolai was in trouble, the colonel could not possibly hope to win alone. He knew he had to help his friend, but also that he could not leave Kathryn either; he was torn, and not for the first time in his life.
Logameier clambered quickly inside and began to power the shuttle up for immediate liftoff.
“I’m okay, go!” Kathryn said as she hobbled toward the shuttle boarding hatch.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, GO!”
Michael un-slung his own pulse rifle, and charged into combat to help Nikolai; sprinting back toward the colonel, there was only him and a badly injured commando left.
Kallos and Aelthris both leapt from their position into action, Aelthris unleashed a fusillade of fire into the already injured commando, a dozen blades jutted out from the soldiers body, and he also fell to the ground in a heap.
She had not, however, counted on Michael now charging into the fray, as right behind where the commando had fallen, the Liberty captain stood. His pulse rifle aimed directly at her, and with her leaping through the air towards them, she could not change her direction. Michael simply squeezed the trigger, and blasted her straight through the mid-riff, she screamed aloud in agony and fury combined as she slammed hard into the ground, a second shot silenced her for good.
Nikolai was fighting Kallos, both putting up an even battle, the Kallan swung his wristblades in an effort to behead the colonel where he stood, though Nikolai managed a block with the body of his weapon, though only barely. The Dracos then performed a graceful backflip kick, catching the Russian just under the jaw, cracking the glass on his breathing apparatus, and sending the commando tumbling to the ground heavily.
Kallos though, like Drax before him, had made the same fatal mistake; in his fervour for the imminent final kill, he had broken one of the fundamental rules taught to every Kallan warrior. He focused solely on the opponent ahead of him, on Nikolai, thus had not even noticed that Michael was fresh from dispatching Aelthris, and was now levelling his own pulse rifle directly at him.
“Hunting seasons over!” He whispered as he pressed the trigger.
Kallos’s head burst apart in a thick spray of crimson froth, his body crumpled to the ground next to Nikolai.
With a smile, the Liberty captain proffered an outstretched hand to Vargev, who was still lying dazed, face up after landing hard.
The colonel took Michael’s hand and gradually got to his feet, he was bleeding slightly as the force of the blow caused him to bite into his bottom lip, the blood stained his chin. He held his breath as he took off his cracked mask, wiped the blood with his sleeve, before putting it back on again. The mask was leaking oxygen slightly, but it was better than leaving it off.
“Cheap shot,” the colonel muttered.
