Humans raced across a barren landscape and dragons followed through smoke filled skies. The city of Maresh was under siege and its reinforcements were fast approaching.

  The attack had been unexpected, unprecedented, a complete surprise in no small part to how absurd the offensive was. Hundreds of kilometers from the front lines and deep within Aren territory the relatively small city of Maresh held little strategic importance both before and after the Orbital War wiped it off the map. And yet a strategic force of Velan troops had dropped from orbit and invaded the broken and forgotten city.

  And broken it was. The carcassed remains of former homes and the charred husks of civilian vehicles sped past more frequently as the convoy entered the urban outskirts of the city. One by one they raced by, every mound of brick and debris barely recognizable as the homely dwellings they’d once been. These homes, much like the city itself, were a monument to the loss of the Orbital War two years prior and the repercussions to which thereafter.

  The convoy passed a shopping village. Despite every window shattered and half the roofline collapsed the structure was otherwise miraculously intact. The carpark was also devoid of the empty shells of vehicles otherwise littering the suburb implying it had been cleared out as a trauma centre during the rescue efforts. Not that there would have been many survivors.

  It’s original purpose of commerce and community a distant memory, the village was little more than an empty husk now, much like the city they rushed to protect.

  Lieutenant Morris Adams sighed as the remains of the village fell from view only to be replaced with the next reminder of Vela’s cruelty and malice. Further and further towards the city they went Morris felt a rising anger bubble up from deep within. He knew the pain the citizens of Maresh had gone through, all Aren did, but those from the south did so more.

  With a lean build and a short regulation haircut it would surprise few to learn he was a career soldier, and no wonder too. The war with Vela had lasted, on and off, for decades and he had been bombarded with patriotism from an early age. Eager to do his part against the ever encroaching invaders he signed on for his country and loved ones as soon as he was of enlisting age. At just shy of thirty his whole adult life had known nothing but war. Or almost nothing.

  Peaking a crest a shattered skyline came into view giving Morris his first real look at the city centre. The skeletal remains of once proud skyscrapers, not even half the height they’d once been, littered the smoke filled horizon. Surrounding those former monuments of human might lay a cratered graveyard of civilization, a monument of human cruelty. They were getting closer.

  All the view served was to sour Morris further and unable to bare the memories threatening to resurface and reignite an eternal pain he turned away from the apocalypse outside.

  In a transport half way down the speeding convoy Morris observed the other members of his squad. Every one of them sat patiently in relative silence inspecting gear and weapons while waiting for the briefing that must surely be coming, or the inevitable first contact with the enemy. Whichever came first.

  Directly opposite sat a pair of skirits who at only a head taller than the average human were the smallest of the dragon species humanity called kin. Their size and bipedal bodies made them the easiest to intermingle with humans both in civilian life and the military where their smaller size compared to other dragon species made them excellent scouts.

  Long nosed and sharp jawed with wings hugging his back, Gerrara was young for a dragon and acted the part with wild swings of emotion ranging from anger to sentimentality. He sat by the rear door cradling his TG-56 assault rifle like one would a newborn. His love for the thing knew no bounds, not that there was anything special or unique about it. It was like any other of the millions in service but you wouldn’t dare tell him that. This one was his and it had never let him down.

  To his right Skylet looked out a window to the approaching city. Her thinned features and shallow eyes told of one who had seen more than enough of war which begged the question of why she kept fighting. She was a career soldier, like Morris, but unlike Morris, dragons featured lifespans of centuries and as far back as the early ages Skylet had fought for country proudly baring the scars of her service. The latest of which were her still recovering wings. Ripped and broken in an ambush a week ago no one knew if she’d fly again but that didn’t stop her from answering the call of the desperate summons of Maresh.

  It was her pride that kept her going, her pride as a warrior. On the one hand Morris admired that about her, that ability to see the horrors of war and find only your conviction strengthen but on the other, for a dragon, it was the height of foolishness. It was one thing to lay your life down for your country and loved ones when your sacrifice meant something for the next generation to come but for the dragons, they were on borrowed time and there would be no next generation for them.

  To Skylet’s right sat a human, Chester Niles, a wannabe comedian who had more luck landing a shot than a joke, and his shots were often suspect. But at least he tried to keep moods up which would be admirable were it not that his methods weren’t always...diplomatic.

  To Morris’s side was Rosch Rovlin, a burly man with curly ginger hair from head to chin and a perpetual stone stare. Despite that cold stare he radiated a warmth that could soothe the coldest of souls. Were it not for Morris’s oldest surviving friend he would not have survived the orbital bombardment.

  “You ok Morris?” Rosch asked with gentle concern. His knack for knowing when something ailed others was uncanny. A dependable shoulder to cry on when things went past the breaking point all while asking for nothing in return. Not that his charity was never reciprocated.

  “I’m fine.” Morris replied trying to reassure himself as much as Rosch.

  “Then don’t tense so much.” Rosch nudged Morris playfully, sensing the lie but not deeming it necessary to pry further...yet. “Or you’ll make Chester nervous.”

  “What am I nervous about?” Chester perked up at his mention.

  “That it’s been more than five minutes since your last terrible joke.”

  “Not my fault the machine’s broken. Just look.” Chester held up his hands and made a cranking motion with his right, but nothing happened. “See? Usually what happens is..oh wait! Something’s happening!” Slowly but surely with feigned difficulty his middle finger began to rise until it was fully erect.

  “Hey! I fixed it! I guess I just needed the right motivation. Thanks Rosch.”

  The squad chuckled and Morris joined but the group fell silent when an absence was felt. A final seat lay empty to Morris’s side which a week ago would have housed a wonderfully infectious laugh. It was a solemn reminder that not everyone makes it in war.

  Ahead of them in the drivers seat was Tomo Lin, the squads medic whose expertise and quick thinking saved Skylet’s wings from amputation. Her dull blue hair, far from regulation, jutted out besides the headrest.

  Sitting by her side and rounding out the team was their squad leader, Captain Tory Yamara, an intelligent man of conviction and integrity. He never asked a member of his squad to do something he wouldn’t and were it not for the chain of command he’d always be the first in line to storm the enemy.

  “I had heard about cities like this but this is a bit much.” Tomo said from the front. The freeway was ending, not at any natural junction but the road ahead was nothing but debris and ruin. She followed the convoy off onto a suburban main road avoiding the crater that ended the freeway. Shards of the shell that created it were still present.

  “We’re just lucky they stopped when they did.” Tory said.

  “Yeah, it was nice of them to grow a conscience.” Chester retorted.

  Morris scoffed. Luck, or a late bloomed conscience had nothing to do with it. The orbital bombardment may have been directed at Aren but fear among the international community quickly spread and pressure mounted for Vela to decommission their weapons of mass destruction. They of course never did so but their use was ceased to placate the mounting opposition to their use. Vela and Aren may be the most powerful nations in the world but Vela could not afford to start another war, at least not until Aren fell.

  Which may not be so long if rumors were to be believed. Some said that after the loss of the orbital war, the subsequent orbital bombardment of the southern regions and the recent naval defeat in the tengen sea left Aren at a tipping point. One more major loss would lead to total defeat, or so said those swirling rumors.

  But Morris didn’t believe in such nonsense. Aren was strong, they would not fall, not to Vela, not after what they did.

  “Regardless,” Tory said pointedly, “it could have been much worse. So be thankful for that much at least.”

  ‘What I don’t understand is why here. I thought Maresh was empty, uninhabitable.’ Sparing a thought from his rifle Gerrara spoke with the harsh and deep articulation of his dragon tongue.

  He was right, everywhere Vela had targeted from orbit became a wasteland. Buildings, infrastructure, civilization itself obliterated under the weight of tens of thousands of hardened shells and missiles. What could they want here?

  “Uninhabitable is a stretch,” Tory said, “there’s been efforts to rebuild and despite how it looks here south of the city, i’ve been told the north did not fare so bad.”

  “Not for much longer it seems.” Tomo said as numerous explosive thuds sounded from the western side of the city.

  ‘Still doesn’t explain why here? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘What in war does?’ Skylet replied solemnly.

  Captain Tory looked down to check something. “It’s about time I briefed everyone fully. Morris, call down Haroka.”

  “Haroka, come in buddy.” Morris called through his radio.

  ‘Morris, this is Haroka. We finally getting a proper briefing on what we’re doing here?’ Haroka’s voice sounded through the radio. His speech was the same as Gerrara’s only even deeper but with a more soothing articulation than the skirit’s.

  “You know it. Tory wants you down here now.”

  ‘On my way.’

  “He’s on his way captain.” Morris reported and Tory moved to the back of the transport where his squad waited patiently.

  Tapping a panel the middle of the transport lit up with a cramped hologram featuring a rough depiction of the city before them. Morris did not know how accurate or recent the recording was but it painted a dire picture of the state of the city. So many zones were depicted as off limits for safety reasons or otherwise. Places where rubble and debris were deemed too unstable or regions that were simply inaccessible. It would take years if not decades for Maresh to even begin resembling a city again. And to think it wasn’t even the worst hit.

  Tory waited and a few moments later the flapping of great wings could be heard approaching before a massive force gently landed on top of the transport. The roof groaned under the weight but held strong for it had been designed to accommodate such passengers.

  With a pointed snout the new arrival peered down from the opening in the roof where the gun turret was situated. A shining grey brown the dragons scaled hide was smooth and sturdy, his claws were sharp and teeth sharper. And as he made eye contact with Morris he gave a nod of greetings to those below.

  Haroka had arrived.

  A dragon of the nakara species, Haroka was much larger than a skirit at roughly the size of the transport he now rode on and despite articulated hands, nakara’s were quadruped’s by nature. For these reasons more concessions had to be made for them to function in society but it was never a question of if but how for they were all kin.

  With strength far exceeding humans or skirits and the awkwardness of two handed weapons they were ideally suited for heavy armaments and Haroka sported such a weapon mounted to his back. The cannon peeked past his head, a long barrel that he controlled with a sophisticated neural link in his headgear.

  If Rosch was Morris’s oldest surviving friend, then Haroka was his closest. They met during one of Morris’s first assignments in the field. Morris and Rosch had been part of a detachment to reinforce a river crossing only to arrive too late with Velan forces executing survivors. Haroka was one such survivor and together they made a perilous retreat as Velan armor hunted them down. They’d save each others lives more than once before that day ended and a lasting bond quickly developed between them.

  “When are you going to commit to that diet?” Chester remarked at the sound the roof now made at every turn knowing full well how much the weight of the cannon contributed.

  Haroka’s response a single upright claw.

  ‘Present captain.’ Haroka said turning his attention to Captain Tory.

  “Did you see anything while up there?”

  ‘Too far to see clearly but the fighting looks limited to the west of the city sir.’

  “As I was told.” Tory took a deep breath and began the briefing.

  “At oh four hundred a targeted cyberwarfare attack occurred in orbit disrupting a large portion of our visual satellite array and blocking communications in the region leading to and above Maresh. These systems were down until oh seven fifty hours when the first satellites came back online. The immediate assumption was that this was the prelude to a renewed large scale offensive but only a lone Velan vessel was detected above Aren orbit dropping into the atmosphere. Its target was Maresh. After an initial retaliatory volley the craft was forced to the outskirts of the city where it’s laid siege for the last seven hours. Why they’re here or what their objectives are we don’t know, but the city was not equipped for such an assault and command is flying in any reinforcements they can get their hands on. That includes us.”

  “Scrambling wildly it looks more like.” Tory gave Chester a pointed stare which shut him up.

  “We are the first wave of these reinforcements so expect friendlies to be light when we arrive. But Vela won’t be able to play the same trick twice. This craft is cut off and will not received reinforcements. While we’re outnumbered now it’s only a matter of time before those scales reverse.”

  “So this attack is a death sentence for them?” Rosch was unconvinced. “While not unwelcome, are we sure there’s nothing about Maresh that would warrant such an attack?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” Tory tapped the hologram and it zoomed in to their current position. The projection depicted the convoy nearing the end of the urban settlement and approaching an industrial zone just before the city proper. “This is us here. Continuing northward we’ll rendezvous with additional reinforcements from the east.”

  The display moved along to centre on a symbol indicating the rendezvous point part way inside the city.

  “From there we will head west through the city via this route. Don’t worry it’s already been cleared out for transport. Once we’ve arrived at the staging area at the west of the city we’ll be assigned defensive positions as needed. Any questions?”

  ‘We know how they got here, but we don’t know who? What kind of lone transport brings enough weapons and manpower to enact a siege? What are we up against sir?’ It was the question on everyone’s minds but Skylet had been the quickest on the trigger.

  “Communications have been sporadic, but…” Tory paused and took in a breath, “...it’s likely a Blackthorn with a full contingent in play.”

  Tomo cursed, Chester paled and Morris’s eyes narrowed. Of course a Blackthorn was involved, what else could it be? The crown jewel of the Velan Navy, those space capable craft single handedly won them the Orbital War and allowed Vela to reign munitions from orbit resulting in the urban nightmare they now passed through.

  “Furthermore,” Tory continued, unsure if he should reveal this next part, “and this is currently unsubstantiated, but it may be the Peace Through Fury.”

  That caught Morris’s attention.

  ‘Seul Parna.’ Gerrara hissed. ‘The butcher himself.’

  The butcher indeed. In an army of millions it ultimately comes down to one person to give the order to commit one of the greatest war crimes in Artrith history and that individual was Admiral Seul Parna. The monsters name would forever live in infamy in the annals of Aren history.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “The Butcher of the South.” Chester whistled. “You think he’s here just sightseeing? A chance to admire his handiwork?”

  Chester doubled over as Skylet’s elbow sunk deep into his side. Winded and sore, Chester sucked in air. The strike had been harder than intended, one could sometimes forget the difference in strength between skirit and human, but the point had been made and Chester realized his error and went quiet.

  “Are you still ok?” Rosch squeezed Morris’s shoulder as Haroka looked his way wearily.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” Morris lied. He was never fine, not since that day and especially not when this topic ever came up.

  “Any other questions?” Tory asked but before anyone could respond his radio blared to life.

  “All squads this is Baker squad. We have enemy inbound from the west, repeat, we have enemy inbound from the west. Multiple airborne transports flanked by skirits and nakara’s. Prepare for contact.”

  Chatter began filtering through the radio as commanders begun preparing and coordinating for the imminent Velan attack.

  “You heard him, briefing’s over, lock and load everyone.” Tory said as everyone checked their weapons and unlocked safeties. “Skylet, on the turret.”

  ‘Sir!’ she responded and climbed up through the opening as Tory returned to his seat.

  “Damn there’s a lot of them.” Chester remarked looking out west. “How you think we’re going to get through this one?”

  As if by answer the transports ahead picked up speed and Tomo accelerated to match.

  “I admire the gusto Tomo but I doubt these things are that fast.” Chester remarked with a hint of nerve. “Unless we got out and pushed? Every little bit helps right?”

  ‘Be my guest.’ Gerrara smirked, ‘I’d love to see you try.’

  “But you’d be helping, right?” Chester made a terrible attempt to mimic the face of a pleading puppy.

  “No he won’t.” Tory interrupted getting off the radio. “Gerrara, Haroka, link up with Sharrg squad. You’ll be supporting them in the air against the enemy. The plan is to distract so that we on the ground can get to the city.

  ‘Understood.’ Haroka confirmed and turned his attention to Morris and Rosch. ‘Good luck and don’t have too much fun without me.’ he said holding up a strong closed fist.

  “Nor you.” Morris replied mimicking the display.

  “Good luck Haroka.” Rosch replied following suite and Haroka took off. The transport suddenly lifting, no longer burdened by Haroka’s great weight.

  ‘No parting farewell for me?’ Gerrara teased.

  “Don’t worry, they know you won’t get separation anxiety.” Chester jested.

  “Give em hell.” Morris responded all the same.

  ‘You know I will.’ Gerrara said as he opened the back door of the transport and leaned back. Wings unwrapping from his sides they spread and caught the wind guiding him upwards and away.

  With Haroka and Gerrara away, and Skylet in the turret all they could do was wait for the inevitable. Tense moments passed as the transport column continued to accelerate in a desperate race to reach the city and their allies.

  Deep in the industrial zone Morris saw the factories fared no better than the southern suburbs. Burnt out, collapsed, or both, every complex was unrecognizable, their original purposes lost under mountains of rubble and twisted metal. Beyond them the city centre grew ever larger. They were getting closer but not close enough.

  ‘Contact’s been made.’ Skylet informed from above and off in the distance explosions rung out as the battle between the dragons of Aren and Vela began.

  Pulling out a pair of binoculars Tory tried to spy the battle. “Skylet how’s it looking to you.”

  ‘Not good for us.’ she said using her superior eyesight to relay the battle, ‘There’s too many of them. They can’t get through the escort and the transports are just passing right by.’

  “Looks like we’ll be having a fight afterall, at least we should only be dealing with humans.”

  ‘Mostly. There’s a big one heading the pack.’

  “I see it.” Tory said through his binoculars. “Get ready everyone, looks like we’ll be dealing with a charnara.”

  “Seriously? How’d they get a charnara here? I hope it was a cramped trip.” Chester was right. The largest of the dragon species with a full grown adult easily towering a three story building, charnara’s were enormous. Even on a Blackthorn it would not have been a pleasant trip.

  Good. Morris thought as he climbed over to look for himself. He’d never seen a charnara before, not in person at least. The last of their kind that called Aren home perished four decades ago. At some estimates being no more than fifty thousand left in the world they were the closest dragon species to true extinction and as such few countries allowed their military service. A ban done to great peril given their legendarily savage and proud nature. It was of no surprise to Morris that Vela would not be one of them and favored their military might over the survival of a species.

  As it came closer Morris got his first good look at a charnara and it caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. It truly was massive, unbelievably so. And if that wasn’t imposing enough it featured layers of near impregnable thorny scales and a head featuring two maliciously pointed horns, large enough to skewer a car.

  “I don’t think we’re going to like this.” Tomo said as she pushed the transport further than ought to be safe as the charnara broke off from the pack and veered right for the front of the convoy.

  Taking in a deep breath the massive creature exhaled and a wall of flame flew forth blocking the way of the Aren’s escape. Charnara flame was known to be intense. Second in heat only to wyverns it could liquefy bare metal in moments but that didn't prepare Morris for the raging heat that washed over him as the transport flew right through the flaming wall at breakneck speed.

  His skin prickled as they emerged largely unscathed thanks to the special heat resistant armor lining the transport as well as their own body armor. Skylet, naturally resistant to dragon flame, came out of it much better than her human compatriots.

  “A little warning next time please.” Chester shouted as Skylet swivelled the turret and opened fire at the charnara, the other turrets of the convoy following suite as it circled around to try again, this time more directly.

  A stream of fire, aimed directly at the front of the column engulfed the transport carrying Baker squad. A brief scream of terror and agony sounded over Tory’s radio before the transport exploded silencing them for good.

  The column came to a screeching halt as vehicles slammed into the back of one another at the sudden stop.

  ‘Sir! The Velan transports are landing at the far side of those buildings.’ Skylet informed them from her vantage point.

  “We need to keep moving.” Rosch said readying for the imminent assault.

  “I don’t think we’re going anywhere.” Morris said looking ahead at the chaos where multiple transports now blocked the road.

  “He’s right, everyone out and assume defensive positions.” Tory ordered and the squad streamed out in unison taking cover behind their transport, the charred wreckage of forgotten vehicles and whatever else would serve them well enough. Soldiers of the remaining transports did the same and a loose but serviceable defensive line was hastily established.

  It didn’t take long for the fighting to begin. Bursting forth from the wreckage of hollow buildings, Velan soldiers streamed out charging the Aren line.

  Glass that had not yet been shattered, shattered, wood that had not yet been splintered, splintered and that which had not yet burned, burned as weapons fire erupted from both sides.

  Casualties begun mounting as bullets flew past, more than a few only narrowly missing their mark and just when Morris thought there was a break to return fire another volley would arise.

  “You doing ok Tomo?” Morris yelled hugging a barrier.

  “Just peachy.” She yelled back over the deafening sound of guns as she too pulled hers around to lay into the quickly advancing force.

  Morris followed suite and continued firing. There were so many of them and they just kept coming, hard to believe so many were housed in those transports. So many come to stop them, so many here to battle, so many here to die by Morris’s hand.

  Come get what you all deserve.

  “Ah!” the cry was short and quick followed by the sound of a body crumpling to the ground.

  Morris fell back to cover and turned to see Tomo on the ground staring back at him, a dash of red in her dull blue hair supplemented a single crimson tear from where her eye used to be.

  “Tomo’s hit!”

  “How bad?” Tory called out.

  “No, I mean she’s goddamn gone!”

  “Shit!” Chester cried. “You’re all gonna die here you assholes!” he screamed over the weapons fire as he laid into the Velan line spending the rest of his clip as he vented his anguish.

  As he loaded a fresh clip Rosch grabbed him before he could jump out again. “Calm down Chester, you’re going to go out the same way if you do that again. She wouldn’t want that, none of us would.”

  “It’s Saddy all over again!” Chester wrested himself free of Rosch’s grip but didn’t jump back out again, instead venting his frustration against the transport which groaned under the weight of his fist.

  “I hope Haroka and Gerrara’s doing better than we are.” Rosch sighed as he ducked next to Morris.

  “I know they are.” It wasn’t just confidence in their battle ability or a reflection on how overwhelmed they were on the ground. It was a refusal to believe Haroka would meet his end up there, that he would return unscathed and continue the fight together with him and Rosch. Together, until victory.

  A victory that wouldn’t happen crouching here waiting to be overrun.

  “Captain, we’re dropping like flies! We need to fall back!” Morris motioned to the rest of the column who were getting hit even harder than they. One by one the defenders were whittled down, they wouldn’t last much longer.

  “There’s no where to run to they can’t follow, we’re trapped, not much we can do until reinforcements arrive.” Tory called back over gunfire.

  “I thought we were the reinforcements.” Morris cried out angrily.

  It was now that Morris realized that the charnara had had ample opportunity for a third strafe yet one had yet to occur.

  “Where’s the charnara?” Morris called out to no one in particular.

  “It’s keeping a wide berth.” The call came from another squad. “It didn’t like concentrated fire from the turrets.”

  “That’s our opening!” Morris called to Tory. “We can’t continue on this road, we need to find another! With the charnara keeping its distance we can get off this road and find another route.”

  “We don’t know what roads are clear!”

  “Is it any better waiting out here?”

  Tory cursed but knew Morris was right. The route to the city given to the convoy had been cleared of debris and wreckage as part of the reconstruction efforts but the state of any other route was unknown. Navigating blindly the chances were high they’d get bogged down with blocked roads eventually but they were still better odds than surviving this onslaught.

  “Jackman, Nakasara, Adami.” Tory radio’d the other squad leaders. “We can’t hold this off. We need to regroup and take what transports are left off the main road, find another route.”

  “Those roads are full of crap Tory!” Morris heard someone reply.

  “It’s take a chance there or stick with this fight.”

  “Helbred choppers are only five minutes out.”

  “But will we last five more minutes?”

  An explosion and a curse sounded simultaneously, followed by orders to get the transports reversing.

  Sensing the Aren plan it was now the charnara chose to make its reappearance. The dragon appeared from behind and made to strafe the rear of the convoy hoping to block any possible chance for retreat, and snuff out any last hope for survival.

  Morris and Rosch joined a concentrated array of weapons fire aimed towards the diving charnara in a desperate attempt to sway it off course. They succeeded just narrowly with the help of RPG rockets that just barely missed their mark as the charnara veered off and disappeared yet again behind smoke and buildings.

  “What are those?” Rosch called out looking in the distance.

  Chancing a peek Morris scanned the horizon for what Rosch had found and saw in the distance, beyond the skyward brawl of Aren and Velan dragons, a pair of aircraft fast approaching.

  “Are they ours?” Morris asked more hopeful than certain.

  “Maybe our reinforcements for the reinforcements finally arrive. A bit bloody late.” Chester said.

  “They’re coming from the west, so I wouldn’t bet on it.” Rosch said.

  And sure enough as they approached at breakneck speed it became abundantly clear they were the enemy. Whether Phoenix’s, or the newer Cevest’s it didn’t matter, what mattered was the distinctive blocky yet deceptively elegant Velan design. Ignoring the air battle entirely the pair of aircraft sped past and aimed squarely for the convoy. The Aren defenders were sitting ducks ready for the picking.

  “Everyone take cover!” multiple commanders, including their own, ordered in near unison as the Velan aircraft strafed their position, guns blaring.

  Screams echoed around them as allies were killed or wounded and Morris could do nothing but hug his cover, squint his eyes and hope for the best.

  “Is everyone still with us? Anyone hit?” Tory called as Morris opened his eyes.

  “Everyone’s still here.” Rosch replied.

  “Skylet, what about you?”

  ‘Sir!’

  “Good. Next time they make a pass, make em regret it!”

  ‘With pleasure.’ she said with glee as she swung the turret around and let loose on the craft above.

  “Sir, what’s taking the other squads? Those fighters are gonna rip us to shreds if we stay out here in the open!” Morris yelled over Skylet’s turret fire.

  “I know. They’re working on it” he yelled back assessing the state of the other transports who were now finally starting to make progress and clear the way. “Everyone in the transport, once we’re off the main road we’ll have more cover.”

  “The charnara’s back.” Rosch shouted over the chaos.

  “Where’s it headed?” Morris called back, unable to pull his attention away from the Velan across the street laying covering fire as more advanced.

  As if by answer the charnara that had initiated the ambush glid through the billowing smoke towards the dwindling column of defenders trying to retreat and landed with a crack of gravel before another transport not fifty meters away to the rear. Towering tall, its wings spread and gave a menacing roar. Aren fighters scattered as it leapt forth and begun claiming its first victims.

  From its mouth, red hot flame flowed forth and engulfed a transport. Metal buckled then melted, tyres burst, and there was a brief cry as those still inside burned alive before a fuel cell cracked and the transport exploded sending debris and a shockwave outwards. A roar of victory followed, with no hint of it being the last.

  If the Velan dragon had wanted the Aren’s attention then it got it. Concentrated weapons fire from the regrouping survivors began peppering its thick scaly hide. Most shots ricochet’d off but a good hit from an RPG knocked it off its feet and it crumbled to the ground.

  With the distraction of the charnara no one noticed as the Velan aircraft setup for another strafing run. Flying overhead they peppered the convoy with munitions. Miraculously Morris was unharmed and a quick glance around showed everyone else had avoided harm but Skylet’s turret had alarmingly gone quiet.

  Once again bringing the attention back to it, a roar of intimidation sounded as the charnara picked itself back up. A lone soldier fired helplessly as the Velan dragon, having regained its bearings, thrust its head down.

  With mouth open and teeth bared, it closed its jaws around the unfortunate soul and with a bloodcurdling scream she was skewered and crushed under the pressure of a row of jagged teeth. With blood spurting from the once courageous Aren soldier the charnara spat out the remains like one would a bad aftertaste. Another spit for good measure the Velan dragon surveyed the chaos looking for its next target. It found it as its murderous gaze fell on Morris and the rest of Tory squad still pinned by human ground fire. A tread began and then a gallop followed as Morris hauled himself up the transports side.

  He paused as he reached the roof. Skylet’s lifeless body sat there slumped in the gunners port. Her armor, and body beneath, were full of holes. Skirit scales were just no match against the Scale Piercing ammunition of the Velan aircraft.

  One step closer.

  Memories of their service together flashed through Morris’s mind but he pushed them aside, now was no time to dwell. Mourning would come later in a well practiced tradition.

  Clambering across the roof Morris tried to push Skylet’s body aside but despite their comparable size skirits were easily twice as heavy as a human. It took all the strength he could muster but Morris finally managed to dislodge her body and it fell away into the transport. Taking her place Morris swung the turret around to bare against the charging charnara.

  He opened fire, the turrets twenty millimeter scillium tipped scale piercing ballistics soared headlong towards the charging dragon before proceeded to ricochet harmlessly off its scales.

  Morris cursed. He had feared this, head on the profile and angle was bad to land penetrating blows with this calibre of SP ammunition against a charnara but he was committed and could only brace himself for the impact and hope for the best.

  To his luck, the best came.

  Tearing from the skies Haroka rocketed through and tackled the charnara before it could reach Morris. At over four times his size it hardly seemed possible but Haroka’s momentum sent them tumbling as he grappled his jaw deep enough into his opponents neck to draw blood.

  The charnara roared in furious pain. Swearing death against Haroka in its dragon tongue it tried fruitlessly to claw him off its neck, but Haroka’s jaw held firm.

  Seizing the opportunity, and a better profile, Morris swivelled the turret against the charnara and opened fire once again. Many rounds continued to bounce off harmlessly but eventually with enough perseverance and another helping of luck some rounds begun to hit their mark. Accompanied by roars of pain penetrating rounds left their mark as thick blood inked out of its side.

  But Morris wouldn’t let up, not until its roars were silenced. He watched as more and more holes appeared in the charnara’s side. For every dozen failed shots, one would open a gaping wound. Morris almost delighted in the sight of the Velan dragon suffering, a small taste of the suffering they’d once caused when they’d obliterated a fifth of the country. It was a just vengeance, one that did not last.

  Finally gaining a solid grip the charnara pulled Haroka from its neck. Teeth scarred scale and ripped flesh as Haroka was dragged off and thrown into an adjacent building, the remains of which collapsed over him.

  Finally freed the charnara returned its attention to Morris, its eyes now a blind fury, it knew who had marred it so and looked to return the favor.

  “Morris get out of there!” Rosch screamed from afar.

  As the charnara drew breath, Morris pounced out of the gunners seat and in one stride leapt off the roof of the transport as flame engulfed it whole.

  Little did Morris know this would be his last contribution to this fight as before his feet even hit the ground a fuel cell ruptured, just as it had before, with the resulting explosion sending Morris, Rosch and those still close enough flying. Some hit the ground, others wound up in overgrown brush, but Morris was extra lucky and flew over twenty meters into a sturdy brick wall.

  Numbness overcame him, his vision faded in and out as if his mind couldn’t decide on if it should be alert or unconscious. Debris fell all around him as he heard indistinguishable cries around him. The squad was scattered, injured, or worse and he was lying there unable to move let alone put two thoughts together.

  Thuds reverberated throughout his body, each one signifying an approaching footstep. Morris tried to move a finger but found even that small task insurmountable. Morris was pissed. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let this be the end, there was still far too much Vela had to pay for.

  Gunfire sounded from beyond his vision as someone, Chester perhaps by the vulgarities, fired at the charnara.

  With great pain Morris turned his neck to witness Chester’s final moments. Distracting the charnara from other wounded Chester stood defiantly against the dragon, hapless rifle fire acting as little more than a mild nuisance to the enormous creature. There was no escape and he knew it as a giant leg rose up and plunged right back down. Chester disappeared under a massive clawed foot, a twist of the ankle being the final insult. Morris and Chester were often at odds with his crass attitude grating but Morris respected the way he chose to go out. Despite their differences it was not a fate he would have wished on him.

  Towering overhead the charnara surveyed the carnage looking for a new target. Gunfire was becoming more sporadic as the final defenders made their final stand, and what a stand it would be.

  An explosive detonation erupted from the charnara’s side staggering it before another threatened to tip it over. It cried in pain as scales shattered and blood erupted outwards. This assault did not relent as one after another, blast after blast, the charnara was pushed back by an unexpected and overwhelming barrage of cannon fire. Limping into view Morris saw the source of the welcomed onslaught, Haroka with his back mounted cannon proving its worth.

  There was no relenting as Haroka fired round after round into the once imposing charnara. For all those it had killed in this battle and battles past Haroka was merciless and would not let up, until his cannon did so for him.

  Out of ammunition the cannon fell silent and Haroka stood there overlooking the mangled corpse of the charnara. A look of sorrow overcame Haroka at the sight and he turned to survey what remained of the battlefield. The fighting continued but it somehow felt distant, like the number of participants were reaching their end. Sighting Morris Haroka turned and limped forward.

  ‘Morris can you hear me?!’ his voice a distant echo as Morris tried to find the words to reply.

  “Shit Morris stay awake, this isn’t your time.” Rosch slid into view. Morris hadn’t noticed him approach and was disorientated when Rosch tried to pull him upright.

  “Is anyone still here? Captain Tory? Chester? I need help, Morris is down!” he frantically called out. It must be worse than Morris thought if Rosch didn’t even know who was still alive.

  A roar answered his call, a roar from a corpse. The charnara, defying the laws of life and death, begun to rise. Its body scarred, its scales splintered, its face a bloody sneer of true malice and rage, but even as stubborn as it was Haroka had truly left his mark.

  It tried to fly but found itself unable, it tried to advance but found itself unable, it tried to summon the flame from deep in its belly, and found itself able.

  The three brave Aren soldiers braced for the end when the charnara’s side exploded. Gore erupted forth and the charnara fell again for the last time as its torso separated from its legs.

  One step closer. Morris thought of the stupid velen charnara as his eyes drifted upwards. Helbred attack choppers making their long awaited debut hovered above laying waste to the remaining ambushers as Morris’s vision blurred and he lost consciousness.