As much as Hardgrave would hate to admit it, the Sergeant’s superior experience saved their lives.

  The CO was the last to notice the threat but the first to react. As he yelled, he threw Daniel away, towards the river, but Hardgrave didn’t sense any malice in that throw. In fact, Gulliman had thrown him away from the line of fire. As the Pioneer slid to the edge of the water, his wide eyes beheld dozens of thin, shadowy forms whistling through the night sky. The twin moons were their backdrop as they arced downward. Then he heard the screams.

  Most of the other Pioneers had been quick in heeding Gulliman’s orders, diving into the mud to avoid the onslaught. But a few had been too slow, and Daniel turned to see several downed figures, long spear shafts sticking out of their bodies. Screams of pain mixed with the primal war calls echoing from the depths of the forest, making Daniel’s blood run cold. Once again, it was the Sergeant’s voice that bellowed above the fray and shocked him into action:

  “RETURN FIRE! WEAPONS FREE!”

  With the reflex born from training, The Jackson was in Daniel’s hands and firing off into the woods, its enormous report a rejoinder to the calls of the enemy. Some of other Pioneers had gotten up and summoned their own rifles, the crackle of their gunfire lighting up the edges of the woods. Hardgrave used the glowing yellow eyes of the unseen enemies to place his shots, and he extinguished one, then two sets of them before the second round of enemy spears came. Daniel saw them coming and hit the dirt with the reflexes of a panther, praying he wouldn’t be skewered by the falling rain of death. He was lucky, however, to be further away from the rest of the group. The enemy was smart enough not to heavily target a lone gunman, and what few spears did come his way splashed harmlessly into the water behind him. But a well-aimed, concentrated barrage whistled toward the others, sharpened stone tips gleaming with the promise of death and destruction. Until Gulliman roared again.

  It was an atavistic, wordless yell, one that resonated with something unseen. Something fundamental, almost foundational to the universe itself. As swift as thought, a large purple shape rippled into being in the night sky. It was rendered in a perfect circle, shimmering with an unearthly light that mixed with the milky moonlight, tinting it an amethyst hue. The translucent barrier interposed itself at an angle between the group and the falling spears just in the nick of time. The projectiles crashed into it with a faint tickling sound, bouncing impotently off the shield and doing no visible damage. Everyone gaped for one breathless moment at the surprise apparition before Gulliman gave out new orders:

  “REGROUP ON ME! BRING THE WOUNDED!”

  The shield followed the other Pioneers as they hustled toward their Sergeant, a few of them continuing to fire at the tree line as they ran. Daniel moved to obey orders, but the CO signaled for him to stay where he was as Gulliman moved toward him instead. A few spears targeted the Sergeant himself, but he summoned a long, blacksteel broadsword and cut down the projectiles with ease. In his left hand, he wielded a sleek midnight pistol with a center that glowed a vibrant green. With a light hum, it spat bolts of emerald colored energy off into the distance, the CO returning fire even as he protected himself and the group.

  The calls had changed their cadence, going from triumphant and mocking to frustrated and agitated as the Pioneers finished regrouping. Just as they did, however, a deeper, louder call rang out from further into the forest. As soon as it did, the yellow-eyed assailants suddenly went quiet. A few Pioneers continued shooting, but the sporadic barks of their guns somehow seemed pathetic in the face of the newfound silence. Gulliman cried out:

  “HOLD FIRE! RELOAD AND FORM RANKS!”

  The moment of silence that followed when everyone scrambled to obey orders was deafening, but it didn’t last for long. Soon it was punctured by a single animalistic roar, starting weak then growing steadily loader until it thundered in their ears, weighing on the soldiers with an oppressive force. The only warning they had was a single word from their CO, barely audible despite the Sergeant’s powerful voice:

  “READY!!”

  The roar grew even louder. Then their enemy appeared:

  “FIRE!”

  The roar of gunfire detonated in the face of the oncoming charge. The smell of gun smoke and bright muzzle flashes were disorienting as the clumsily formed ranks of Pioneers tried to unload into the horde of enemies without shooting each other. Those flashes of light illuminated the faces of the Xenomorphs with a horrifying, uncanny glow. They were humanoid, hirsute shadows, apelike in appearance. Unnaturally long arms were tipped with strong, clawed hands and laden with powerful wiry muscle. Their eyes shone a deep vermillion, livid orbs set over mouths full of fanged teeth. Those mouths were open and screaming in unison as they bore down on the cornered Pioneers from all sides, pouring out of the trees in a coordinated wave. Each beast would take several rifle shots to the chest before going down, and even one of Daniel’s rounds wasn’t enough to kill them with one torso hit.

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  Even the monsters that went down sometimes sprang up again, figures mutilated but still screaming in one, long furious note. They approached the Pioneer frontline with a rapid speed, their concentrated fire only slowing the Xenomorphs down fractionally. Daniel hastily dismissed his gun and summoned his spear as they drew close, but he could already feel a pit of hopelessness growing in his stomach. Just before the Pioneers were overwhelmed, Gulliman saved the day again. Quietly, that violet shield that he had held overhead had shifted, turning from a diagonal angle to a horizontal one, going from a shield to a broad disk. That disk floated down and interposed itself between the charging enemy and the Pioneers. The Xenomorphs crashed into the flying band of light and broke upon it, sliced in half by the razor-sharp edges of the violet disk. The shield-turned-weapon wasn’t terribly fast, but it covered a lot of space as it moved around and cut the charging mob with their own momentum. It thinned the herd, but some of the beasts still got past it. Gulliman had one last thing to say:

  “SPEARS!!!”

  It was the last word Daniel heard before all hell broke loose.

  Some of the beasts brandished spears of their own and tried to stab them. Others just raked viciously at the Pioneers with their claws. Daniel skewered one and tried to dodge another, but it clawed three shallow gashes in his shoulder. Hardgrave pushed through the pain and whacked the offending enemy with the butt of his spear. The fight devolved into a brawl, man and beast screaming and shouting and stabbing at one another with a strength born of desperation and madness. Daniel took one cut to the ribs, then another to the shoulder, but he kept on fighting with everything he had. The world took on a red tinge, blood vessels in the back of his eyes bursting from the stress and anger of the battle. He was literally seeing red as he hacked and stabbed at the enemy over and over again. They carved off pieces of him, but he gave it right back to them. Breath came in ragged gasps as the Pioneers spilled every ounce of strength they had in the fight of their lives. Until finally, there was a reprieve.

  A deep throated roar came from somewhere out of sight, and suddenly it all stopped. The long scream ended, and the beasts began retreating, finally giving Daniel the chance to look around and see their status. Somewhere in his exhausted and brutalized mind, he registered both shock and happiness to see 11 of his fellow Pioneers still on their feet. Most of them looked as bad as he felt, but they were alive and staring down the enemy with hard, battle crazed eyes. The Dunid in particular stood out, claws stained with so much blood that they had turned totally crimson, black eyes narrowed in uncharacteristic hatred. Their enemy had been heavily reduced in numbers, bodies carpeting the ground in front of them. It was hard to say, especially with his exhaustion riddled mind, but it looked like the Xenomorphs had been reduced to no more than 30. Still enough to wipe out their group, but not without paying a price.

  The enemy stepped back and formed a loose perimeter around their squad, seemingly waiting for something. Then, it stepped forward. Most of the monsters had dark brown fur, their claws usually chipped or dirty. This new enemy stood nearly a head taller than any of its companions, fur coat as black as pitch. Its claws were the same color, healthy and unblemished, and its eyes shone with an intelligence far beyond its fellows. It walked into the clearing created by the others and stopped. Raising a single finger, it pointed at Gulliman and snarled, point clear. It wanted a match.

  The Sarge looked tired, but he was easily the least injured of all of them. He locked eyes with the belligerent beast and hesitated for a moment before walking into the clearing himself. The other Pioneers scrambled backward to give the duo more room.

  In a rapid spray of mud, the leader of the horde launched itself at Gulliman, but the Sergeant was prepared. His shield had moved in between himself and the creature, ready to cut the fiend in two, but it had other plans. It changed its charge into a leap, claws flashing as it hurtled through the air. Gulliman’s shield quickly tilted upward, exposing its cutting edged at an angle toward the flying creature, yet still its reflexes were too good. In an astonishing show of speed and agility, the beast’s arms snapped up and caught the shield at its edges, claws clutching at the disk to halt its own momentum. The beast roared at Gulliman from its perch, but Sergeant just shot at it with his blaster pistol in response. The fiend leveraged itself up and over the shield, dodging the shot while flying over Gulliman’s head to land behind him. It turned around and grinned menacingly at the Sergeant. Then the beast began to change.

  Dark fur rippled with a bright purple light; the beast’s silhouette suddenly shrouded in ethereal violet. Its eyes changed as well, shifting from light yellow to ruby red. With a triumphant roar, the monster shot towards Gulliman again, explosive speed further increased. It hit nothing but shield as the Sergeant stepped backwards and through his own power, the purple barrier no obstacle to its owner. The beast hit the flat of the barrier in flash of light. Its claws dug into the surface of the protection, piercing it, and causing thin cracks to spiderweb from the holes. It hung there for a moment, seemingly straining to fully drag its claws through the rest of the barrier. Gulliman slashed at the creature, sword moving easily through its master’s construction.

  Immediately the ape leapt back to dodge, then sped around to try and hit Gulliman from a different angle. The Sergeant seemed able to rotate the shield with relative ease and speed, however, so he always made sure that his shield was between him and his opposition. He shot back at the monster, but the beast dodged the blaster bolts with relative ease. This game of cat and mouse continued for a short while before the beast switched its primary target. It aimed for Gulliman’s shield, slashing and hacking away at the CO’s only protection. The barrier seemed to naturally heal its damage, but it was nowhere near fast enough to keep up. The cracks started out limited and thin before steadily growing wider and more all-encompassing as the fight wore on.

  The shield was on its last legs when Gulliman finally caught a break. The purple glow that so empowered the monster began to fade as the creature finally started to lose steam. Its fur and eyes finally returned to normal, speed and power dropping precipitously. Unfortunately, that was when the shield finally hit its limit. With a final war cry, the creature brought down a twin clawed slash on the face of the barrier, shattering it totally. Gulliman let out a yell in pain, staggering backwards, and the monster pounced.

  Gulliman’s blaster went flying away as the duo collapsed to the ground. Sarge had gotten his sword in between the monster’s upper claws and him, but now they pressed down on him with the weight of finality. The beast’s lower claws dug into Gulliman’s midsection, and he bellowed in pain at the creature’s Stygian weapons inched towards his throat.

  Then, in two swift and brutal moments, the fight was over.

  Daniel’s pistol broke the evening’s desperate silence, his bullet striking the beast’s head with pinpoint accuracy at the moment of truth. That wasn’t enough to kill the Xenomorph, but it did force the creature to flinch in pain, arms losing all their strength for one key moment. Gulliman wordlessly shoved the claws away and jammed his sword up and through the beast’s chest, puncturing its heart and exiting its back. The beast shuddered light fading from those yellow eyes before it slumped over.

  Then the others went berserk.