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Elesian looked around the quiet gun pit. There was the big artillery piece. A barrage piece, by the looks of it. And there were the bodies. Five artillerymen, dressed in the interlocking armour of the Halthan Standing Army (H.S.A.), their mirror-visored helms discarded, their long-snouted heads beneath reduced to skulls. Their bodies, even with their armour, were shredded. It was no way for a Dalynther to die. Elesian pulled her Model AG-7 Service Pistol from its holster, and scanned the immediate area with a wary eye.

Her squad, which had been struggling to keep up to her brutal pace, ran into the gun pit, their weapons raised to their shoulders, their every movement brutally efficient. Their wings folded up and they moved forward slowly, towards the other side of the gun pit, where a stainless steel door rested. Two of the squad took up a position on one side, the other two on the other side, and Elesian took the opportunity to kick open the door, raising her pistol as she eyed the green grasses behind.

Like the dead gun crew, Elesian and her squad were Dalynther. They were, after all, nearly the only sentient race on the planet after the Great War. They appeared to be a mix of the ancient Human folklore of "dragons", the medieval style of dragons, and the Humans themselves. Of course, the only human characteristics about them were the fact that they were bipedal, and the plume of hair that grew from the tops and backs of their long-snouted heads. They were scaled, had long tails, wings, that sort of thing. Draconic characteristics.

Elesian was slim, tall, and had reddish-brown scales, a black belly, black hair, and bright red eyes. She wore, like most of her team, a flexible synthetic bodysuit that fitted her evidently female form, underneath the shield plates that covered her entire body with the exception of a few gaps where the armour plates met. She was considered quite attractive amongst the species, though her entire head-covering helmet concealed her features most of the time. Her armour was painted the commonplace carapace-beetle green, but it also had the red pauldrons and stripes on the plastron (breastplate) that signified her as a sergeant, and she carried her service pistol and a long, slender sword that could have energy coruscating along its length with a push of a button.

There were five others in her team - the regular troopers, Antalis, Uthlan, and Izale. Then there was the heavy trooper, Yanal, who, for this situation, carried a heavy A-7 Laser Rifle, and then of course there was Ethinia, who was their scout and sniper.

Antalis was a short, thin young male, with sleek, angular features, and a famously loud mouth. He had green scales, a blue belly, blue eyes, and blue hair. He was also dressed in the black bodysuit and reflective green armour of the H.S.A., which was the same as what Elesian and the other two Regulars wore helmet included, and carried an H-9 Assault Rifle as they did.

Uthlan was a large, grim-faced creature, with black scales, white belly and hair, and cold gray eyes. He hardly ever spoke. As he was a Regular, he wore the common armour, helmet, and black bodysuit of the H.S.A. and carried an H-9.

And then there was Azale. She was a good soldier, if a bit weak around the males. She had pretty white scales, light gray eyes, a gray belly, and darker gray hair. She too was dressed in the bodysuit, helmet, and armour of the H.S.A. and used the H-9.

Yanal was a massive brute, standing at over eight feet in height, and wearing the older, heavier carapace armour that the veterans tended to use. It had less mobility, but provided more protection - for heavies such as him, it was invaluable. He had bright orange scales, and a belly, hair, and eyes of red, though one of those eyes was artificial. He seemed gruff at first, but he never hurt nor let harm come to his friends. As said, he carried his A-7 Laser Rifle for this mission.

And finally, there was Ethinia. She was entirely dark - black belly, black hair, black scales in general - the only non-black thing about her was the sky-blue colour of her eyes. She was efficient and to the point. No chatter. She was dressed in the black bodysuit and similarly coloured, lightweight armour plates of the scout-snipers - pauldrons, knee guards, elbow guards, a light, extremely flexible torso piece, and a helmet. She carried an E-05 Long-Rifle, the standard sniper rifle for the H.S.A.

With practiced grace, her team fanned out into the green paradise. It was a startling contrast compared to the massive hive-cities of the H.S.A., and a welcome one at that. There was no pollution here - one could actually breathe without with their own lungs without fear of catching some fatal disease.

But even so, they didn't let their guard down. Antalis, Uthlan, and Azale dashed forward and set themselves up in a defensive outer perimeter around the bunker door, rifles trained outwards, their eyes scanning for any sorts of movement as Yanal buried his weapon's support legs into the ground. Meanwhile, Ethinia slipped out, preparing to go scouting for any enemy movements. Elesian was the last one actually out into the field. She had holstered her pistol, and toggled the radio-speaker in her helmet, preparing to report the gun crew's death to High Command, pulling out her map to give exact coordinates for extraction.

Halfway through her report, she heard an odd thump. She didn't look up, didn't think anything of it, until of course she heard the sound of three H-9 Assault Rifles opening fire. She dropped the map and rolled, yanking out her pistol and, steadying her shooting hand by supporting it at the wrist with her other, she began to look around, and what she saw terrified her.

The enemy was here.

Hundred of feral Dalynther, tribals, were swarming her team, brandishing swords, axes, spears, bows - primitive weapons. Even so, they were overwhelming her team through sheer numbers - somehow, Yanal had already been brought down, though he was inside the Regulars' defensive position. The breastplate of his armour bubbled and hissed - one of the mystic shamans had apparently hit him. Elesian began to snap off shots with her pistol one-handed, drawing her falchion with the other.

She watched as Antalis was brought down, swarmed by a mob of at least a score of ferals. The same fate swiftly befell Uthlan and Azale, now that the left flank had fallen, and Elesian realised she was the only one still standing.

She slowly began to back up as the tribals turned to her, and then turned to run, only to feel a ferocious burning pain in her back.

Damn shamans...

She slipped into unconsciousness.