He watched as dirtied faces stood in awe for they no longer knew which creature was the monster that sat before their eyes. Then the moment the PSI enhancer stopped, the second it cut off from dwindling with the poor creature's mind Jameson ran. He leapt with all his might, knife in hand as he dodged the monster's first swing. Talons as dark as night cut through the air, planting themselves into a nearby industrial pipe. It tore through the metal so easily that liquid splurted onto the wall, raw hot Orchram spilling in bulbous pits. Sensing Jameson through sound it swung its mighty beak around snapping at him a second away. The exoskeleton kept up with the creature’s turning speed and he continued to climb the terrain, each step clambering upon the spires of death. Jameson picked up a rock and hurled it at the monster's eye, the thick stone shattering upon impact into a thousand jagged pieces. Dust spurred through the air yet the monster remained unhindered. He sprinted towards the PSI enhancer, the Captain saw this and pressed a few more buttons causing the Dragon to scream. Acid soared by Jameson’s head. The murky liquid hit the rock with a hiss causing steam to rise and the prisoner to slide behind an industrial furnace for cover. Cocking its head the creature expulsed once more, an entire river of green mulch streaking past. Jameson watched as the industrial furnace he used as the cover was soon reduced to a few base pieces of scrap. Steel dissipating in seconds.

  The creature swung again this time using its claws to take a chunk out of Jameson’s armour plate. Metal crunched as he was pinned to the wall for an instant. He saw his vision fade, darkness slowly chipping away at his sight as the creature squeezed. The light beckoned for his hand, a voice so familiar, so sweet it filled his heart with tears. Yet he fought on. The soldier swung his arm frantically, plunging the blade multiple times into the Dragon’s thick hide and causing orange blood to squirt from the wounds. The creature roared in agony dropping Jameson to cradle its arm behind a lock of scales. Jameson took this opportunity and swung another rock at its eye this time catching it off guard and causing a shard to protrude from the socket.

  The monster roared in agony, this time flailing its limbs in anguish to have a hand strike the plexiglass. For a moment the observation deck harbouring the mercenaries bent. The screen held but it vibrated causing some bandits to scream before laughing at their own fright. This however gave Jameson an idea.

  The beast reached out, long talons grasping for his legs.

  He ran for the PSI disruptor, pitching every inch of his might to reach the console. Laughter caught his ragged breath as his feet scraped against the mud. Once his hands were grasped firmly upon the tempered steel he did the unexpected, bashed the entire device to pieces with his armoured fist. Wires and sparks flew through the air as the Captain screamed.

  Only a madman would risk the full wrath of a Dragon. The one he fought now, it was half asleep, dormant, a puppet on a winding string. A sleeping giant being prodded by a sharp pole. Now, he would see true horror. Now he would taste the subtlety of death. The moment the second blow landed and the machine’s screen turned dead the Dragon’s eyes widened, instead of flailing it backed up, fierce hate brewing in its only good eye. It’s roar was no longer hollow but fierce, unyielding in the night. It’s second eye was clasped shut, the lid is swollen from the first hit as pus leaked from the socket.

  With inhuman reflexes Jameson jumped over the third claw, spinning around in a moment of unthinkable discipline to grab onto the upper platform. The swipe missing him by inches, tearing into the hot steel. Blade in hand, he slid the hilt upward and shot it through the air with the precision of a man who had seen the perils of a thousand worlds. The knife flickered through the air, spinning to meet its target dead center, plunging into the beast's chest. The thing screamed.

  Then as he clambered above it swung, swung with all its might at, the plexiglass, swung until it cracked. As the glass shattered, as bullets flew through the air, shrieks echoed through the night and blood soaked the ground Jameson ran towards the final compartment. He clutched his arm, metal had protruded to scrape the wall as he sprinted. The Captain shot at him twice, three times before turning her attention to the Dragon. She barely had enough time to scream before her bloodied head rolled across the grated floor.

  The Luitenant screamed as he ran, head on into the Dragon’s clasp. He let loose an entire magazine into its thick corroded husk before the creature slashed back chopping off his leg. The pointy-eared mercenary roared in agony as he crawled across the floor leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

  The rest of the mercenaries scrambled. Jameson tackled one, punching his head in with the exoskeleton’s guaranteed fist before stealing his rifle and using it to blast the final compartment’s door locks. The first gate slid open yet another reinforced titanium stood infront. He could tell the mercenaries had tried to enter from an array of scorch marks painted throughout but the steel mixture had held firm. A keypad sat beside and he pressed his gauntleted hand into the barracks intercom.

  “Marine, open up, we’ve got to go now!”

  The viewport slinked open partway and a face with wide eyes poked out its head to see the chaos infront. It instantly recognized him as a soldier, a noble face in the endless dark, relief spreading across as the miner wept. Inside a massive group could be seen surrounding the door, helpless curiosity spreading across their faces.

  “A single marine, a convict? What is going on?” The leader questioned yet he stopped in his tracks.

  “I know your face convict, why are you so familiar?” Another miner asked.

  Suddenly they halted their questions due to the sound of war. At the sight of the Dragon, a few screamed, shivers trickling down their spines.

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  Jameson lifted his radio, shouting into the device.

  “Tannatt I’ve got them, Tannatt?”

  Then as the remainder of the enemy fed themselves to the Dragon he let the miners run. Thirty poor souls locked within the barracks for hours, found a sight that would haunt them forever, a dragon munching upon the cold corpses of the dead while a prisoner told them to run.

  They did as they were told, civilians sprinting down the shaft. Jameson protected them as they fled, as he had done before on the fields of hundred battles before. He suppressed the dragon with his rifle, aiming for the eyes in the hope to blind the creature.

  The lieutenant hung on for dear life, hands grasped onto the console’s railing as the creature gnawed his remaining leg, slowly pulling him inside. Jameson tried to help, firing three more times into the Dragon’s infected eye but it was too late. By the time it let go, the mercenary rolled back dead, lifeless eyes staring into the beyond.

  The five guards above had returned, staying at a safe distance as they blasted the creature repeatedly but they were too slow. With one ferocious roar, it let loose a bulbous swing of acid, catching the remainder of the mercenaries in its wake. They screamed as the bile tore into their flesh. The dragon salivated, ready for it’s next meal.

  Jameson turned around, only twenty of the miners had reached the safety of the second shaft. They had armed themselves with discarded weaponry but the prisoner beckoned for them to run, safe themselves from the horrors of the depths. The ten behind were wounded, legs twisted or broken from the glam attacks and in dire straights to sprint past a Dragon.

  “You can’t fight that, it’s madness, you’ll die!” One breathed.

  As he stared into their fearful eyes and saw the sadness and despair within he knew what he had to do. His knife still hung from the creature's chest, orange blood dripping from the slot where it had parted the scales. He looked down upon his armour and saw the twisted metal and scorch marks that made up his skin. Then with one final action, he put the miners behind him and sprinted toward the beast. The civilians hobbled forward, desperate to reach their comrades awaiting arms in the second half of the corridor. The ground shook as it roared, flakes of spit-burning steel. All watched in awe as the marine fought.

  The Dragon had just finished devouring the carcass of a shock trooper when it looked up, it’s a sedimentary lifestyle in the placid desert sands made nutrients as rich as this a sure delicacy. Its skin was smothered in burns and holes, hundreds of gashes from the earlier attacks. Jaws dropped as the soldier slid, dodging the first swing of the creature's meaty arm. Next as acid caught his shoulder burning into the steel, the marine punched. Exoskeleton rocked the beast's flesh as his fist pummeled the rock-like hide. The marine shrieked in agony as the acid burned into his suit, trickling slowly overall. The suit attempted to repair and isolate the solution but could only do so much. He remained firm, eyes locked upon his prey. Then with one final swing, he ducked below the creatures closing beak and grasped his hand firmly upon where his sword had pierced. The handle felt raw in his scorched metallic palm yet he pushed. Pushed and tore with all his might as the Dragon shook and howled. The miners watched as the last one exited the caverns. Watched as the two fought intertwined, two immortals dancing upon the heavens, watched as the beast fell silent. Tentacles wriggled, withered and smacked against the floor, each one fighting for life as Jameson repeatedly stabbed and lunged. Litres of blood spewed through the air. A fountain of bile gushing to stream among the stones below. Then in one final act as the beast flailed in desperation he drove the knife into its neck pushing with all his strength, the strength of his dying breath.

  Jameson lay on the stretcher, armour covered in an array of healing salves as a surgeon bot slowly operated on his mangled body. It twisted and turned, a metallic hand reaching into his wounds and slowly sealing them with a frothing spray. His eyes felt heavy in the face of the Intrepid's burning lights. His mind was half-addled with pain. The grey hull of the ship showed around him as he sat, thinking slowly of what lay ahead. Lamprey and Alistar were at his side, the ship's doctor leaning against a computer as she worked, from the vitals displayed it seemed he would life to see another day.

  “You saved them… you saved them all” Lamprey whispered, her voice filled with astonishment.

  Jameson blinked, every one of his body filled with pain.

  “How many survived?” he muttered.

  “Every single one”

  At this he smiled, trying to raise to his feet yet being stopped by Lamprey’s palm.

  “You killed a Dragon Jameson, you killed a Dragon, without even using a gun” Alistar preached almost in shock.

  He looked up for a moment to see it was not only four who stood in the cramped room. The entire crew of the intrepid was huddled around his wounded body. Every last miner that could stand from the sandy wastes was staring with a glaze of admiration and honour into his tormented soul. The Captain of the vessel stood infront, a salute placed upon his forehead as a plethora of metals were littered throughout his grey-collared uniform. You could tell from his tormented eyes he knew the extent of the mission. He know who Jameson really was.

  “Tannatt? What about Tannatt?” His parched breath rang.

  Lamprey stuck out a hand shifting through the mission report infront, yet another miner stepped forward. She was caked in dirt and grime, yet fresh bandages were strewn throughout her wounds.

  “Director Tannatt was among the first to fall, they shot him in the communication post about an hour before you arrived”

  Jameson looked shocked.

  “What do you mean? I was talking to him the entire time. What do you mean?”

  “He’s dead Jameson, it must have been someone else”

  “No one else could have opened those doors, no one else knew the codes” The female miner responded.

  “It couldn’t have been a ghost”

  “Could it?”

  A silence was cast before all.

  Four hours later, Jameson received a Luitenant’s salute as he walked among Intrepid’s flight deck. They all talked about him in hushed whispers, a few pausing to stare with admiration into his soulless eyes, and find out what caused the familiarity which haunted them all so dear. He stood at the brink of the deck of the ship, eyes staring into the sea of stars. His stance while bearing the rank of a common Corporal was one reminiscent of a man who had stood barking at the deck of the mighties fleets to ever curse the stars. Such beauty lay infront, such possibility in the transcending rays of a thousand suns. There was rumour of promotion, making him an officer among the convict soldiers but that flew past Jameson's ears. He had one goal coursing through his bloodshot veins, one purpose for the single tear trickling down his cheek. As he stood, hands clasped behind his back, armour glinting in the starlight he breathed the hollow syllables of revenge.