The group looked around, but there was little to see. The sky was dark as usual. A warm breeze rushed through the black stalks of fungus, rustling the cloth covering the discarded body parts.

Olaf stayed behind with another of the mercenaries to inspect the site of the struggle. Meanwhile, Kik returned with the rest of the group to the tent. One more mercenary still hadn’t returned from his scouting trip, but he was on the way back. Everybody else but Coloz and Elana were gathered around the half built tents they had intended to sleep in to discuss their next options.

After Cormen made a comment about splitting up and searching, though, the two mercenaries switched to a private channel and disregarded further input. Even Kik could see that splitting up would be a stupid idea, with an unknown lurker hunting the group.

Cormen strutted off to the wreck to sulk, telling Kik he was going to search for any more clues.

Soon Olaf and the guard, Elana, returned, carrying the injured soldier’s rifle.

“We’ll split into teams of two and sweep the forest,” he said to the group as a whole. It seemed the pair of mercenaries had been unable to decide on a course of action. “Stay together at all times. There will be a group check in every five minutes and contact others immediately if you lose sight of your partner. Don’t go wandering off on your own. One team will watch the injured here and the other pairs will go scout.”

“Who will stay here?” Kik asked.

“Miguel needs to remain. He has to look after Coloz and anyone else who might get hurt. I’ll leave Elana too. She can guard them and Cormen, wherever he’s off to.”

Elana nodded, shouldering her weapon and entering the tent with the patient inside.

“So unfortunately, little Kik, you’re going to have to move out. I’ll take Sandra with me, so you’re going to have to wait for the dwarf to return. And get a replacement suit from him. That one stands out too much.”

Kik looked down and noted his bright yellow hazard suit. “I’ll do just that,” he said. However, Olaf had already moved away with his partner, a rifle in hand and murder in his eyes.

The ‘dwarf’ rolled in five minutes later. If anyone didn’t know where their camp was before, they did now from all the noise he was making.

Revving down the engine of his quad-bike, he jumped off and ran up to Kik, the only person nearby. “What happened? Is Coloz fine?”

“She’ll live.”

He let out a puff of breath. “Good. Good...”

“We have to get moving into the jungle, so can I get a suit off you? This one will stand out.”

The man looked down at Kik. Kik wasn’t sure why he was called a dwarf, he wasn’t that short. But then again maybe Olaf was just tall enough to see him that way.

“Yes, I’ll get that for you. It won’t be the best fit but it should do. Have you got a weapon in case it gets nasty?”

Kik pulled out his laser pistol.

“It’ll do for now.”

The suit that Kik received was the same bluish-grey as the other mercenaries were wearing. It was only armoured in the body, as opposed to the arm and leg armour that the other suits had. It was too long and wide, even after sucking out some of the loose air for a better fit.

But it was the best he was going to get on such short notice, and it wasn’t as visible in the dark as his previous attire. He stepped out of the half built tent he had changed in, stretching and testing his full range of movement. It was awkward to crouch or bend forwards, as the excess material bunched up around his waist, but his other movement was unobstructed.

“Let’s go,” the former owner of the suit said. “I want to get to somewhere we can see a long distance from. We’re on foot so it’s going to be a chore.”

“Will that help us find anything?”

“More than stumbling blindly through the jungle. That’s Olaf’s job.”

Kik nodded and they started their trek, towards the closest hill they could see.

Their camp was in a small valley, barely a depression, between two small foothills. To the south, where they had come from, the land grew flat and the fungus colonies thick and twisted. Beyond to the northwest, the hills grew larger and the jungle taller but less entangled. Instead the confusion was caused by the effect of insects, crashing down rows fungus structures to the ground and changing the flat ground to an unstable maze. This was the place which Kik and his

In some areas, silvery sheeting was strung between the colonies, which all stood upright untouched. The forest grew silent around here, the wind shivering over the supple structures. These were the dens of the silk dragons, and both Kik and the dwarf knew better than to approach.

As they travelled past one such area, a scrap of silk floated past on the breeze. As fast as a striking cobra, the dwarf snatched the precious material out of the air. He stretched it between his gloves, testing its suppleness, before pocketing it. He then hurried Kik on, glancing at the white structures as if he expected a horde of creatures to emerge, demanding back the stolen portion of their nest.

Wading through a region where the ash was knee-deep and light as snow, the pair took a breather after their regular check-in. None of the three groups had reported any findings, and Kik could hear Olaf growing more frustrated over the radio.

“So why does Olaf call you dwarf? Is that just his sense of humour?” Kik asked.

The man raised an eyebrow. “That’s my name.”

“The dwarf?”

“Oh, Olaf’s being funny again. No, my name is Dwev. He just calls me dwarf sometimes to see how I’ll react. Poking the beehive, so to speak.”

“So he’d be the bear?”

The mercenary laughed. “That fits.”

Glancing up at the distance they still had to travel, Kik groaned and changed the subject. “How are we ever going to get up there?”

Dwev shook his head. “We don’t need to head that much further. Two hours’ walk from camp should do, so another half hour. We’ll have a good enough view of the area from there.”

“That’ll help.” Kik thought for a moment. “How about your search for the vehicle before? How did that go?”

Dwev shook his head. “I found it, I think. The tracks led to the edge of a crevasse. I have no idea whether it made the jump across or not, but I didn’t see any tracks on the other side so I doubt it did.”

Dwev’s watch beeped and the pair struggled to their feet, loose ash streaming from their bodies. Time to move on.

Dwev called a halt half an hour, six reports back, later. They had just reached a small outcrop of rock poking above the ash, providing something of a view beyond the jungle around them.

Peering out into the darkness, Kik turned to Dwev. “What exactly are we meant to be looking out for?” He could just make out the shape of their campsite from the few lights flickering around it, but the rest of the terrain was an indeterminable mass of greys, browns and blacks. There was barely enough lava in this area to illuminate its immediate vicinity, let alone the rest of the jungle. All the other details just faded into the darkness.

Dwev, however, was looking towards the east. “Something like that.” He pointed towards a cloud of smoke rising there, similar to the one they had spotted from their vehicle. This time, however, they were above it and could make a better guess to the cause.

The smoke wasn’t just a single column. It formed a small trail, angled inexorably towards their camp.

Dwev pulled a pair of handheld binoculars out from somewhere on his person and peered towards the smoke.

“Damn, I can’t see where it’s coming from,” he said. “The jungle below us is too thick. We’ll need a better vantage point.”

“Well where are we going to find one of those with all these tall fungus things around?”

Dwev glanced at the colony, then at Kik. “Think you’re light enough?”

“Oh no. No. I’m not going to…”

The fungus crumbled as Kik shoved his hands and feet into the body of the colony. It was much tougher than the fallen examples of its kind, which gave out almost straight away when touched. Its position on the edge of its peers ensured it soaked in as much radiation as possible, standing straight and tall above them.

Reaching the upper growths branching out at the top of the colony, Kik stopped and braced himself against the trunk. With his one free arm he pulled out the binoculars, taking extra care not to drop them.

Spotting the smoke was easy, but spotting the cause less so. The binoculars included night vision, which was a nice bonus, but it didn’t help much at this distance, and especially if he was looking at the wrong position.

Eventually he spotted a tongue of flame lick against some of the fungus colonies. He was too far to see the cause, but whatever the reason, the colonies caught alight. They burnt and toppled over in a magnificent display, burning spores flying off into the night like parachute-borne flares.

Kik studied the spot for another minute and saw the flame lick out again, same as the last time. He wasn’t able to get any more information than he had the first time.

Climbing back down to ground level, Kik returned the binoculars. “I don’t know what’s causing the smoke, but it’s shooting out fire like a dragon,” he said to Dwev. “I think it’s safe to assume it’s manmade. I haven’t read about any creature in these jungles which breathes fire, and with the display over there I can’t believe they wouldn’t be spotted until now.”

Dwev nodded. “I’ll report that in to Olaf and we can hurry back. If they’re really coming for our campsite, they may be hostile. The team will need what help we can provide.”

The rush downhill was only checked by the risk of injury, and the occasional report back to Olaf. Their own tiredness was secondary to the danger that an unknown force could pose.

The pair returned just over an hour later, but they were not the first to arrive. As they snuck back to the campsite, a dark smoke hung throughout the air. Whoever had caused the fire had beaten them here.

The scene at the camp was a tense affair. The two new and two old tents were stretched across the clearing, the four uninjured mercenaries standing, protective, before them. Their weapons weren’t drawn but neither were they far from reach.

Opposite them was a second armed group. Six soldiers stood around the fringes of the treeline, armed with swords and pistols. Their armour was a shining silver, stretching from head to toe in plating. The wings of a bird decorated their helmet from the eyes down. The intersection between two layers of feathering crafted a gleaming grin across their face, literally from ear to ear.

To the front rode a seventh soldier. He was dressed the same, but in pure gold. Even amidst the darkness, his armour shone from the reflected light of torches. It was a wonder that he or the others had not been visible from the hill, even from the distance they had been an hour ago. He also had a sword by his side, but no pistol. Instead his blade was a longer cavalry sword, hanging from the saddle of his steed.

He was seated astride a beast of war. Its hairless white flesh shone in the torchlight. The creature’s baleful red eyes stared from beneath its silver mask, plated in gold with a breathing apparatus. This mask hid its elongated snout and mouth, perhaps a good thing as it seemed to be staring with hunger in its gaze at the people opposite. Its clawed feet scratched at the ground, kicking up ash as it stirred in restless frustration.

The gold-armoured man jumped down from his mount and strode towards Olaf. Hands on the side of the mercenaries moved closer to weapons, but he offered nothing but a wire from the neck of his own of armour. Olaf seized it and plugged it into the wrist of his own suit.

The two discussed, but unfortunately nobody but the pair were able to intrude on the discussion. Kik and Dwev watched each parties’ reactions from the sidelines. Besides one soldier tending to his leader’s mount, both parties watched their opponents with harsh intent. Fingers flexed beneath gloves and gauntlets, straying close to triggers and hilts.

The two in the middle stared into their counterpart’s eyes, heedless of the tension among their followers.

The brief exchange between the two dragged into an eternity for all those watching. Kik was preparing to draw his pistol before finally Olaf moved.

Stepping forward, he stretched out his hand towards the other leader. After a moment of delay, the handshake was accepted. Everybody relaxed, although Kik and Dwev didn’t dare to emerge from their hiding yet.

Disconnecting the wire between them, the gold-armoured man waved to his troops. Forming a file, they marched away from the camp. Only one or two suspicious glances were cast backwards to the mercenaries, still standing by their tents.

Once Dwev was sure that the other party had departed, he stood up with Kik and rejoined the group. Olaf was stretching as if he had just run a marathon, everyone else waiting for what he had to say.

“Ah, everyone’s here,” he said once he had broken the cricks out of his back. “All I can say is, that was an unwanted encounter.”

“Who were they?” Kik asked, one of the questions on everyone’s lips.

Olaf thought through his answer. “Their leader called their group the Phoenices. I doubt that’s a real name, although it seems to fit their gear. As for what they want, I haven’t the slightest clue. They claim to be after silk dragon webs, but there’s no way that’s true. They’re missing all the equipment. They were interested in what we were doing here, though, so perhaps they want some buried treasure too. Not surprising.”

Everyone waited, but Olaf didn’t elaborate further. In the end the last male, Miguel, shook him out of it. “So what planet did they come from?”

Olaf shook his head. “There was some accent there, but I can’t place it. Their leader could have been from anywhere, and his men even more so. Perhaps they’re mercenaries. Perhaps they’re some religious group. Who can say.”

He thought for a moment, then realised. “Oh, I haven’t told you the main thing we discussed. He was quite concerned to learn that there was a hostile force out there besides us. They’ll be searching for the culprits independently. We have a truce until the culprit is found.”

“A truce?” Kik asked. “Does that mean that otherwise we’d be at war?”

Olaf shrugged. “I’m not sure we’d be able to settle matters peacefully. But who can say? Just don’t get too complacent around them. They could become hostile with the fall of a leaf. Or, more likely, the drop of a body.”

The uneasy peace between the two groups continued into the start of the next day. Neither side could get comfortable around the other, as neither knew all the others’ cards. However much the Phoenices knew about the wreck beneath the campsite, it was not everything. And neither had Kik or his group seen something that could have burnt a trail through the forest, as their opponents had.

Once again, the team left in pairs. Now, however, only one pair left the camp at a time. Olaf was more worried about the threat before their eyes than the threat unknown.

Kik left on one such mission the only day, partnered with Elana, who managed to tear herself from Coloz’ side. She was silent and brooding the whole trip, though, clutching her gun tight against her chest.

The pair looped through the jungle, hoping to run into something, anything, if only by dumb luck. Their luck was not in today, though, and they spotted nothing but two bearers of gleaming armour. It was hard not to spot them.

Perhaps the attacker had been scared off by the arrival of the second group. Or perhaps the new arrivals and the attacker were one and the same. When Kik shared this second thought with Elana, she grunted and watched the surroundings with greater fervour.

Their return to camp was unremarkable. Nodding to the two guards and making their way inside a tent, they reported their minimal findings to Olaf. Able to take off some of their all-body suits inside the sealed tents, they stretched out and got something to eat. Kik sat by one of the transparent wall panels and stared at the smoky sky, listening to music.

Cormen stumbled into the tent.

“Where have you been?” Olaf asked. Kik’s head span around. Cormen hadn’t emerged since he had disappeared into the wreck. It had been too chaotic for anyone to go down and find him, and nobody wanted to give the Phoenices any hints at the true purpose of the campsite.

“I was reading through Dorix’s notes. He has to have left some clue behind. I may have found some hints, but they’re in some sort of code. Once I find them all and put them together…”

“We don’t have time for that. There are more than two groups in this jungle, and this place is about to get messier than any of us would like.”

Cormen hesitated, his mouth half-open. “Have more archaeologists come?”

“Perhaps. But they’re more soldiers than scientists. Got any clue of who the Phoenices are? I’ve never heard of them until recently.”

He shook his head. “If you haven’t, I haven’t. But the Phoenices, you say? Like the Phoenix… I’ll have to give it some thought. How many of them are there?”

“At least seven. I’d estimate there are more than twice that number hanging around.”

Kik started. “Why do you think there are so many?”

Olaf spared him a glance. “They have too many search parties for such a small group, and we haven’t even spotted their campground yet. Every one of our groups has seen between one and three of theirs. I’d estimate we’re outnumbered at least three to one, if you consider the guards on their campground and that their leaders aren’t patrolling.”

Elana frowned. “We only saw two of their men on our patrol.”

Olaf nodded. “You were off to the west. Here, have a look at this.” He pulled up a chart on his datapad. “I’ve marked the positions that each of their patrols were spotted at.”

The map was dotted with a series of stars, more than ten. They were concentrated on the east side of their group’s campsite, denoted by a red dot in the centre of the map.

“Each of those is where one of their patrols has been spotted. And since they came from the west, they probably wouldn’t try to move their main force too close to us in case they were spotted. I’d guess their base is here.” Olaf jabbed his finger at some point on the map, arbitrary to Kik’s eyes at least.

Cormen nodded. “So why don’t we just sent someone over to take a look at what they’re doing?”

“Because that would give away that we know. If they think we’re weak and stupid, they won’t bother with us. At the moment they’re more worried about the unknown assailant, and I’d prefer we keep it that way.”

“And how do you know they’re actually worried about the attacker?” Kik asked. “Couldn’t they have done it themselves?”

“Simple. If they weren’t worried about an attack from an unexpected angle, they would have made their move by now. They’ve had plenty of opportunities.”

Events came to a head overnight - or as close to night as it was possible to get here. Elana vanished from her watch.

Cormen had disappeared back underground again after taking some supplies for a day or two, so it was left to the four remaining mercenaries and Kik to pick up the pieces.

Her partner, Miguel, had called in when she had missed one of the five-minute checks. Those on sleep shift scrambled out of the tents, dressed in a hurry.

Elana’s post was empty, the ground still flattened where she had been seated. A trail of footprints led off into the forest.

“Elana! Elana!” Olaf called into the radio, but to no avail. The communications channels sat in silence, quiet as the grave. “You’d better not have gotten yourself into something again…”

Kik shone a flashlight into the jungle, and a few small creatures scattered from the beam and dove into the ground. “She’s heading northeast. Should we follow?”

Olaf stared at the tracks, then looked around at his companions. “Do we have a choice? We can’t just let our people vanish into the night, one by one. Miguel, you stay here with Coloz and Cormen. The rest of you with me. You too, Kik. This is no time for bystanders.”

Kik nodded, pulling out the pistol from his storage. He flipped the power setting to high.

Ash crunched under boots and flashlights shone as the small party strode into the jungle. Throwing caution to the winds, they advanced with what speed they could muster. They kept one flashlight on the bootprints, the other scanning through the jungle for danger.

Out beyond the camp, the tracks turned east before disappearing. Moving through some low rock formations, the ash lay low in this area. The path was hard to follow with little material around to retain tracks. The trail they were following was swallowed by the dark.

“Turn off the lights,” said Olaf. “We’ll keep heading east. I have a rough idea of where the trail is heading.”

“Which is?” Kik asked.

“Straight for the Phoenices’ camp.”

Running headlong towards unknown forces, Kik’s breath jumped from his throat like a startled hare. His legs pumped up, just keeping pace with the mercenaries around him. He was fit, Vist’s training had seen to that, but they put him to shame.

The gritty ash blew in a small trail behind them as the party moved. The beating of feet against the ground hammered a staccato rhythm. Fallen fungi blocking their way were vaulted, stride hardly being broken.

Eventually Kik fell behind, unable to keep the pace with his shorter legs. Olaf grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and held him like a baby. Rocking in the one-armed cradle, Kik marvelled at the speed the terrain fell past them at.

“Why did we even need a vehicle to get us here? You could have just run and we would have been just as fast.”

Olaf grinned but didn’t reply.

Olaf slowed the group down after fifteen minutes of their mad dash. Dropping Kik, he moved his gun to two hands.

“Quiet from here on,” he said. “We’re getting close. Look.”

Pointing to the ground, he indicated the marks of multiple bootprints. They followed a winding animal trail through the colonies, similar to the one the party had just been following.

Crouching low, Olaf indicated that the others should do the same. Clutching their weapons, they snuck forwards along the small path.

Olaf took point, with Dwev and Kik on the flanks. The driver, Sandra, took the rear with her two rifles. She stayed ten metres back from the rest of the party, crouched even lower than the rest among the low growths of fungus.

Nothing moved around them but the light swaying of the fungus branches in the wind. The dull boom of an eruption sounded, far in the distance. It was blocked out by each person’s masks and the panting of their breath, not quite recovered from the run.

They moved with utmost silence, almost crawling as they crept along the jungle floor. Their black camo shielded them from unwelcome eyes and broke up their shapes, turning the group into indistinct shadows against the ground.

And then they realised they had been spotted long ago.

Lights lit up from the forest around them as silver armoured warriors stood from their concealment, activating helmet lamps. The three forerunners of the party were bathed in brilliance, shielding their eyes from the sudden glare.

Looking around, Kik could see nothing but white for a moment before the spots faded from his eyes. Eight soldiers stood around the group, with a ninth seated on a horse behind them.

With four pairs of eyes upon him, the golden leader pulled off his helmet, heedless of the radiation around him. He shook out his straight black hair, tied in a ponytail at his neck. His skin was pale and his eyes small and squinting. The bones of his sallow cheeks poked from beneath his skin like the skull of a corpse.

His voice rang out to every man present, helmeted or not. “I would like to shoot you on sight, but I’ll give you a chance to explain yourself at least. What are you three doing here?”

Olaf stood to his full height, his voice booming from speakers set into his suit. “I could ask you the same question. We’re looking for our missing team member. You’re the one who apprehended us.”

Unfortunately, Olaf’s full height was not enough to impress his mounted opponent. “So you claim to come before us, knowing not of who you approach or what your underling has done. And yet you are attempting to sneak into our camp. When our sensors triggered for the second time tonight, I could not have believed you would attempt to attack us again. Yet it seems you are trying to prove me wrong. It would seem diplomacy fails.”

He pulled a stained package from his saddlebags, fondling it in his hands. Liquid ran from it down his arms, staining his gauntlets crimson.

“And as this woman fought furiously for her perceived wrongs, we shall quiet our rage with offerings of our own. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. A head for a head.” He tossed the package down the soft incline towards the group, its grisly contents spilling across the ground. “Draw blades. Kill them all.”

Olaf wasted no time barking out orders over comms. “Scatter and hide! Ambush tactics! Sandra, take out their leader!”

Sandra rose to a crouch from her concealment. Sliding the long-barrelled rifle from her shoulder, she lowered it to point at the man atop his beast.

Kik and the two with him broke cover, dashing backwards away from their foes. The line of silver armour hurried after them, reading weapons and raising pistols to fire.

The beast of war rose on its back legs, clawed feet pacing in the air as it let out a muffled shriek. It prepared to bring its full weight down into a charge.

Sandra shot first.

The weapon made no sound as it fired, not even a flash from the muzzle. A small burst of arcing electricity from the barrel was the only indication something had happened.

The targets in the weapon’s path weren’t treated so kindly.

The projectile travelled through the creature’s body, blowing a gaping hole in its wake. Passing through and striking the rider on the other side, it punched him off the horse. He was launched backwards onto the ground, knocking over a colony of fungus along the way.

He landed, his back bent at a strange angle and a sizeable hole punched in his leg.

The creature collapsed backwards, its head hanging on by a mere scrap of flesh.

Sandra ejected an ammunition canister, her eyes triumphant behind her mask. Before she could plug another one in, however, she was cut down from behind.

Two black blades ran through her back, piercing straight through her body armour and skeleton. One struck her heart.

The pair of phoenices, striking separately to the assault group, pulled their blades free. One moved to cut off Dwev’s escape while the other stopped to remove Sandra’s head. It came off with a sickening squelch as the sword slid through her flesh.

Olaf slid to a halt.

With deliberate steps he pounded towards the Phoenix holding Sandra’s severed head. Screaming over the comms, he emptied his clip into the hapless soldier’s body. The first handful of rounds were deflected, but the remaining twenty started to find their mark.

Meanwhile the second ambusher confronted Dwev, attempting to slow him down. Dwev ducked under the first horizontal swing and bullrushed the soldier, bashing at his helmet with the butt of his rifle. Once the man was knocked to the ground he finished him with a concentrated beam of laser fire.

Both of them managed to finish off their first enemies before reinforcements arrived, but they had to turn around in a hurry to face the next wave of threats. They were almost within reach of the attacking troops, and running wasn’t an option after their desperate dash minutes earlier.

Kik saw none of this though, as he was the first one away. As he was smaller and close to unarmed, he was given less attention.

Less, not none. His flight among the plants was chased by a pair of bouncing and gleaming lights, giving away the two soldiers who had followed him.

“I’ve drawn away as many as I could, Olaf,” Kik muttered to himself under his breath. “Do what you can.”

Pacing his way through the forest, he ran onward.

His distraction had to come to an end somewhere, however. He had more stamina than the others in the group, as Olaf had given him a chance to rest, but it wouldn’t last forever.

The moment came far too soon as Kik tripped. It had to happen eventually, running over uneven ground in the dark, and he had been lucky with that these past few days. It was about time his luck started to run out.

The fall shook the breath out of him, sending a plume of ash floating down above his head. He stared at the falling specks for a moment until the gravity of his situation struck once more.

Scrambling to his feet, he turned around to face his two pursuers. They were close enough to strike if he attempted an escape. They were moving around to encircle him, taking slow and deliberate steps.

Kik backed away at an even speed, making sure not to trip on the loose ground. His eyes dwelt on the tips of their black blades, sparkling under the lights of their helmets. His own weapon, a simple pistol, felt puny in comparison.

His heart hammered in his chest. He panted from exertion as his would-be killers closed in, ever so slowly. They were in no hurry to strike, happy to let his worry build and for him to make the first move. Looking between them, he had no way of knowing which might deal the killing blow. Perhaps even they themselves didn’t know. Perhaps they didn’t care.

Feeling around in his pockets, he struggled for something that might help him. Unfortunately, his opponents weren’t going to pass up such a valuable chance.

The one on the left stepped in and thrusted with his blade, directing Kik into the right attacker’s vertical swing. He managed to block it with both hands, the pistol taking the brunt of the blow. It cracked and smashed, spilling dark blue battery fluid onto the ground to mix with the ash.

Kik threw the broken pistol at the left soldier, before he could swing again. A few drops of blue spattered his chest but otherwise he was unaffected. Kik rolled backwards, dodging a punch from the right attacker.

From his position on the ground, Kik struggled to find something in his pouches of tools which could help him. The knife was in there somewhere but he didn’t manage to pull it out. Instead he found a weapon of a different sort.

He pulled out his flare gun and grinned. “Take this!” he shouted behind his helmet, pointing it in the general direction of the enemy and turning away his eyes. He pulled the trigger.

He was safe behind closed and averted eyes, further hidden behind a faceplate. When he opened them again, however, he was half blinded by the still burning material.

The Phoenices had it worse than him, although one had managed to close and shield his eyes in time. Kik only had a few moments before they recovered.

Dropping the flare gun, he dashed off into the tangled growths around. He felt much more secure with a fungus colony to his back, and pulled out the knife at his leisure. Scraping the edge against the trunk, it was more than sharp enough for him.

The two soldiers looked around once they had recovered and the light had died down. Unable to spot him, one kicked away the discarded flare gun. The flare had passed close by him, blackening his armour with its heat. Kik hoped it had blackened the flesh beneath with it.

The two stalked around, staring into the undergrowth. One investigated nearby hiding places, while the other kept an eye out for movement further away. They weren’t near him for now, but they were expanding their search area and his concealment wouldn’t last forever.

Kik regained his breath with deep gulps of air and prepared to make his move. However, before he could take action, he learnt the main problem with using signalling equipment as a weapon.

It gave away your position.

Three more soldiers strode up to the searching pair. A quick handwave of greeting, a moment of professional chatter, and they joined in the search.

They didn’t just stroll around looking, though. Oh, no.

They were armed.

One of them was carrying a black metal rod, hooked up to a backpack supply. A red flame danced on the end. When he pulled the trigger on the rod’s pistol grip, the weapon spewed out burning death.

A flamethrower.

The same weapon had burnt down a path miles long through jungle, allowing the Phoenices to march cavalry through. It would take mere moments to burn out a single fugitive, hiding not ten metres away.

The burning fuel from the flamethrower coated colonies of fungus, melting through their bases fast as acid. Giant structures toppled over, rumbling as they settled against the ground. Clouds of dust were kicked up by the impact, and Kik took this as his chance.

He only got three steps before he was spotted, even among the smoke. But three steps was all he needed, as he sprang forward towards freedom…

Something took a chunk out of his leg as a gunshot fired from behind. From some corner of his mind, Kik hoped it wasn’t plasma, as he toppled forwards. A small hole was ripped in the edge of his suit leg, a trickle of blood flowing through it. The wound was only superficial, at least.

The pain, however, was not.

It started as lances of fire racing up his leg, jousting with each other. Then it turned into rival armies, clashing with his nerves as the battleground.

Doubling over and clutching his injury, Kik wondered why he hadn’t gone into shock yet. It felt like he should. Maybe that way he could get it all over and done with.

But before he could develop any coherent thoughts, before his helper had started to patch up his injury, the world turned red. One more fireball lit up the night.

The third party laid down their hand.

Looking up with swimming vision, Kik was greeted by a raging inferno. Burning fuel sprayed in all directions, surrounding one screaming man. By some twist of fate, the bearer of the flamethrower had survived his backpack’s initial explosion. He howled as fuel sprayed around, seeping between cracks and joints and cooking him alive inside his armour.

Around the burning man lay the bodies of the other soldiers, caught in the explosion and subsequent flamestorm. They still clutched their weapons, their last moments etched into their corpses.

And before the flaming spectacle stood the man who had caused it, astride a stolen steed. His mount’s golden mask reflected the fire, and its head tossed with rage. Kik was unsure whether it was driven wild by the fire, or the unfamiliar rider. Perhaps both.

The man astride the beast sat calm, the eye of the storm. In one hand he held a sword taken from one of the Phoenices, a cavalry sabre. Its unsheathed blade glowed red-hot from the reflection.

His armour was sculptured, a work of art. Layered black plates extended down from his chest to his boots and gauntlets. Blades poked from them like a predator’s spines. His helmet was pure white and misshapen, the head swept back and far larger than necessary. This may have been functional though, as wires and antennae extended from the back of his headpiece, connecting to the rest of his armour.

Beneath his black lenses, a pair of red stripes were inscribed, sliding away from his eyes like tears.

As he strode towards Kik on the ground, one of the soldiers rose up behind him from among the flames. Pulling off his helmet, clumps of ashen hair and skin fell away from his burnt and weeping face. The soldier paid the ruin of his body no heed, shouting a challenge as he dove towards the mounted figure.

The beast skittered away from the first strike, its claws digging into the ground to prevent a fall. The second never had a chance to land. The figure lifted his empty left hand from the steed’s reins and pointed it at his attacker’s head. A gunshot rang out and the soldier fell to the floor, having found his rest at last.

Then the mounted figure turned back to Kik, who had at last recovered enough to stand straight.

The first charge came after a moment of peace, both sides eyeing each other up. The cavalryman armed with a longsword, astride a beast three times the size of his opponent. Kik, armed with a dagger.

With almost no warning, the war beast struck out. A steady lope turned into a gallop, and straight away the enemy was atop him. Luckily the rider seemed just as surprised by his mount’s burst of speed as Kik, and his first strike was too slow to hit.

The creature skidded to a stop, crushing small tendrils of fungus snaking their way across the ground. It seemed to do well on the uneven terrain, better than Kik had hoped it would.

The second charge came a second later, as Kik was still spinning around to face the cavalryman. The beast pivoted and dashed forward once more, bearing down upon the near defenceless youth.

This time though he was more prepared. Dashing forwards at the charging beast, He attempted to strike at its legs.

What he had forgotten was that the beast could strike back, and was more than willing to do so. Sliding to a halt, it reared up, attempting to bring one of its front legs down to maul Kik. It almost threw its rider in the process.

Panicking, he dashed in, beneath the flailing claws. By some miracle he took no more damage than a glancing blow to his back, scraping some skin beneath his suit. He gritted his teeth and ignored the pain as much as he could. This was no time to stop.

Once the beast had lowered down, Kik was in the perfect position to do some damage - even if he only had a fraction of a second to do it in. The biggest threat to him right now was mobility. So once again, he targeted the legs.

Slashing his dagger across the backs of the creature’s forelegs, it writhed and buckled before falling to one side. Its rider tumbled off, although one of his legs was trapped beneath the creature’s lithe body. Kik rolled in the other direction, away from the injured steed.

Once he was out of its reach, he stood up and looked around. Flashes of light through the trees indicated hostile forces closing in. Their headlamps flashed as they jogged towards the light. Kik hoped they were friendly, that Olaf and Dwev had managed to escape their opponents, but he wasn’t going to wait around and find out.

He stumbled off into the trees, leaving the injured soldier to fight his way out of the situation. Hopefully he would hold off the Phoenices for long enough for Kik to make his escape.

Flashes of light and the clash of steel emerged from behind as Kik raced off to places unknown.

Kik stumbled through the jungle, unsure of where he was or which direction he was heading in. Any way was good, as long as it was away from enemies.

He walked for what seemed like hours, noting that his injuries healed as he walked. His scraped back didn’t even hurt anymore, and he could walk at almost normal speed despite a bullet grazing his leg.

When he felt he needed a break, and was certain pursuit was delayed, he stopped and had a bite to eat from his storage. When he checked the time, he was shocked to find that it was almost morning. The time was correct though, as the clouds were beginning to lighten as the sun shone down from the other side. More light was getting through. Not much more, but it was something.

Travelling onwards, Kik chose a direction at random - off to the left of his previous path. He figured that changing course would help if he was being pursued, and if he didn’t know where he was going then his pursuers wouldn’t either.

Following this path for a time, in the end he found himself at the top of a hill. He climbed a fungus structure to get a better view, to try and figure out where he was based on the lay of the land.

The mountains lay straight ahead, so he was moving northwest at the moment. His previous path had been northeast, in the opposite direction to the base camp.

But there was one more thing he could see. Just a hundred metres off to the north lay a clearing, jagged and artificial. And close to the top he could see the top of a structure poking up from inside it, brown against the black trees.

Sneaking closer, Kik kept alert for any signs of danger. This had to have been that man’s camp, the one with the strange armour. And there may not be just him camping here.

Kik’s fears were assuaged when he saw only a single tent in the centre of the clearing. It was tall but thin, conical, designed perhaps for a world other than this one. It looked far out of place among the tangled underbrush and ashy soil, as if it was about to blast off into space at any moment.

There were few other pieces of equipment around. The remnants of a disassembled transmissions array stood at the edge of the clearing. Its antenna was still attached to the top of the tent, the only bit that Kik had been able to see of the camp.

Finally there was a vehicle. A flier, or perhaps a glider. It sat in a sling, ready to be launched into the sky at a moment’s notice. Most of the transmission equipment was already packed into the bottom of it, as were a few other boxes.

The ground was patterned with prints, both new and old.

Stepping inside the tent, he saw that the inside had been similarly cleared out. There was little left inside besides a bedroll and a few pieces of light furniture, too heavy to take on the glider. This tent didn’t have a cleansing feature like the ones at Kik’s camp. Evidently the owner intended to spend their entire time on this planet in their armour.

Satisfied with what he saw around the tent, he was about to step outside before he felt unease about the outside - whether it was hearing, some other sense or even intuition.

Peering through a gap in the entrance to the tent, Kik saw a figure who had been through hell and back. The figure from before with the bone-white mask was now mostly red. His armour was beaten and scratched, his helmet dented and marked. Two of his fingers were missing, his right hand swathed in bloodstained cloth.

He limped along, supported by a sword with a chipped blade. Cracks ran up and down its length, marking its repeated use.

But he was alive. And kicking.

Sitting inside the tent, Kik considered his next move. That man had survived a brawl with at least five of the Phoenices, and from the looks of it he might have won. In a fair fight with him there was no question to the outcome, even with the man injured.

As the man drew closer, he noticed the entrance to his tent slightly ajar. Growing suspicious, he lifted himself upright, wincing as his ribs straightened. Bringing his sword to bear, he prepared for a stab into the entrance. It was the wrong length, but he didn’t have much else on offer.

But before he could swing the door open, Kik burst out, swinging. His left fist connected to the man’s stomach in a punch, his right swinging in from above with a dagger. Both blows were blocked by the armour, but they still pressed on the wounds behind, forcing the man to double over.

Kik pushed his advantage, landing atop his injured foe. He brought both hands up and held the dagger above his head, driving it downwards with all his might and all the weight of his body.

The dagger hit a dent in the man’s chestplate and pierced through, striking a lung. He coughed out in pain as Kik twisted the handle in desperation - but even that wasn’t enough to kill him. And now his blade was stuck.

The man pulled a blade from his own belt with one hand, the other attempting to stop Kik’s furious assault of kicks and punches. He flashed out with the dagger, punching it towards Kik’s side, but he accepted the blow with his arm and stopped the blade. His left arm was useless by his side, but after shaking his foe away with a punch to the head he now had another weapon.

Pulling out the blade which had almost struck him down, a stream of blood pooled inside Kik’s left glove. He paid it no heed, stabbing down at the armoured man’s exposed throat. His helmet was dislodged by the last punch, showing a small patch of undersuit above his gorget - small but enough to strike a telling blow through.

The man caught the dagger inches away from his skin, but the momentum of the thrust pushed the steel further and further in. It sunk beneath the surface, blood bubbling up at the point of impact. Kik held it there and kept pushing, pushing, pushing, for what seemed like hours, until finally the man’s hand fell away from Kik’s wrist and the blade slid out the back of his throat.

His enemy was dead.

Kik pulled both daggers free and wiped them clean on the grass. There was nothing more to it - two had walked into the fight and one had walked out. He was amazed at how calm he was, able to even analyze the taste of his stomach acid as it rolled from his tongue. Huh, that was strange.

Kik realised he had collapsed a few seconds later, clutching his left arm. Waves of pain rolled up it, no longer held back by adrenaline and the desperate fight.

Kik passed out.

When he awoke again the sky was dark - well, darker - once again and the wound on his arm had closed. He hadn’t died from blood loss in his sleep, and nobody had come across him while he was defenceless. All up a good nap. The inside of his suit was still stained and gross, but there was nothing he could do about that for now.

Looking around, he spotted a body lying near him. The ground around it was patterned with spurts of blood. Two daggers were stuck into him, in the throat and arm.

Kik stared for a moment with dead eyes. He needed to retrieve a weapon of some kind, but he really didn’t want to. The body made him feel ill for some reason which he couldn’t quite place.

Stepping closer with sheer willpower, Kik closed his eyes and felt around the chest. His hand bumped into the handle.

A quick yank pulled it free, a squelch emitted from the wound. He tossed the weapon behind himself, not yet ready to look.

The second dagger was more tricky, embedded deep in the man’s throat. Finding the handle by touch again, Kik pulled once he thought he had a grip on it. Working it out with slow twists, it came free in his hand at last.

Opening his eyes to look at the dagger, he instead saw a black stem with blood covered roots.

His eyes were drawn to the corpse, where he saw groups of tiny tendrils growing from the corpse. Tiny insects were crawling between them, chewing on whatever they could find. The jungle was claiming the food as its own.

Scrambling backwards, he screamed inside his helmet. He threw the black sprout away as hard as he could, babbling nonsense to himself. His hands found the ancient dagger on the floor and he clutched it before him with two hands. The hard material helped him to focus and his shaking and muttering passed away.

When the dead body held no terror for him, he was instead filled with sorrow. It was his fault. The person would still be alive if not for him.

Logic said that it wasn’t so, the person would most likely have died anyway. They had deserved it too, after trying to kill him earlier.

But his brain wouldn’t listen to emotion. Pain wracked through his head, as real as any stab wound, as his mind fought to discover his next action.

After struggling with himself, he finally found something to focus his mind. Repeating it within his head, over and over again, he rebuilt his strength and hardened his mind. Finally coming back to life, he screamed it out to the sky.

“This is not my day to die!”

Now that he had some time to think, he had to consider his next action. He couldn’t head back to the site of the wreck. If he did he’d soon be lost, and there were no doubt patrols out looking for him and that person, whoever he had been. Unless enough Phoenices had died to make them think twice about wandering off.

The comms had been disturbingly silent ever since the battle had completed. Kik hadn’t heard Olaf’s voice since they had separated, which didn’t bode well. Hopefully they were just out of range, but Kik didn’t have too much hope.

Either way, returning was still more risk than he wanted to take. So that left the glider. It was working, and loaded with all the things he’d need. What more could he ask for?

Taking a look over it, it wasn’t completely a glider. There was a small propellor built into the back of the wooden frame, attached to an equally small engine. Revving the engine, the propellor started to spin and the craft started to shake against the sling. The folded wings started to shake, straining to reach their full length.

Looking around, he wondered if he should leave yet. Then he took another look at the dead body and decided that yes, that was exactly what he wanted to do. Climbing into the single free seat on the craft, he snapped a lever, catapulting him into motion barely above the treetops.

The small electric motor made little noise as they powered along, only a constant whirr of air through the propellor. Looking down, he attempted to spot the campsite, but if it was there it was lost amongst the trees and darkness.

Once away from the body, he considered returning, but he was doing his best just to keep the craft level. He wasn’t confident enough to turn it yet. Unlike aboard a spaceship, the controls fought him - and it was all he could to to keep it in line and heading back to the dome.

Looking down upon the jungle as it sped by beneath him, he felt his emotions bubbling over. A cry of pain and grief rose within his throat, but he pushed it back. Instead he laughed - not the maniacal laugh of a madman, not the savage laugh of a monster, not the joyous laugh of a peaceful mind. It was a despair-filled laugh which only just managed to keep the darkness and pain at bay.