Night wrapped herself around this wild, wonderful world with a cooling, refreshing embrace. A brief thankful respite from the humid, scorching day as a chill breeze filtered through the forests and fields in the valley below. High above in the hills the breeze turned to a biting wind that threatened to pierce the warmest of clothes as the hardy thick trees stood with indifference from a climate they had grown with for millions of years. On any other forested world this landscape would be uninspiring but the sight of the planet's neighbour would take any seasoned traveller's breath away. Filling half of the night's sky and alight from the then-hidden sun the neighbouring gas giant and it's two asteroid rings forced itself upon the eyes as it illuminated the planet's surface, draining but not eliminating the stars above in the cold distance of space.

High up in the hills, hidden from the gas giant's light a pair of headlights burrowed their way through the skin of the dense forest to an exposed shelf higher up. The six wheeled colony crawler was considered state of the art when it was created over forty years ago when it came fresh off the assembly line. The years had not been kind to the vehicle though as it protested over the uneven road paved into the hill by years of repeated use. Most of it's original parts replaced or repaired by whatever could be found, the fact that it was still drivable was a testament to it's reliable design.

Jonah felt like he could drift away to sleep at the wheel soon, he had been driving for nearly five hours with David, his grandfather's now grating company in the passenger's seat. At the beginning of the journey conversation was plentiful but as they climbed further up he could see his grandfather was reflecting on the past. It was something he did very often and he never left his memories with a smile on his face.

With a jolt coming through the suspension, rocking Jonah awake again he could see their destination finally in sight. His grandfather thrust his liver-spotted hand out, motioning them to stop just shy of the small clearing where a primitively built wood cabin was centred with light peeking through the shutters that adorned the outside walls. Jonah heard of these kind of buildings when he learned history of how humans had lived back on earth before space travel. But the reality looked dirty and uncomfortable, vulnerable to exposure and the will of the elements.

Dry metal creaks emanated from the door hinges as they exited the crawler. Noting with surprise that his breath produced steam as the cold air raised the hairs on his exposed arms. The climate in the hills was much colder than the consistent heat in the valley a few thousand feet down. He shivered as he yearned for climbing back inside the air conditioned crawler, waiting for the obvious comment.

"I told you to wear extra layers but did you listen to me?" His grandfather scoffed, walking to the back of the crawler and the storage compartment. "Just like your old man you are, c'mon help me with this." Jonah moved quickly to join him, taking the brunt of the weight of the large rucksack as they both slumped it to the muddy ground. "Just remember what I told you Jonah, be careful what you ask. Remember your here because of his courtesy, apart from me he hasn't seen anyone else since before you were born, he likes his privacy."

"Yeah I couldn't tell, living hours away from the settlement he must love his own kind." Jonah teased, leaning on the trunk of the crawler, watching for movement inside the cabin, eager to meet the man.

"I wouldn't say this in front your dad but your in a degree of danger being up here." The old man said gravely as he zipped the rucksack shut after checking all the content's were there. "Drop the sarcasm. You might think you've heard all about him from the rumours that the gossips like to spread back home but you know nothing, none of you down there do."

Still leaning on the trunk, he gazed around the cabin. Around the building showed enough evidence that he lived off the land with a number of crop plantations with a number of vegetables growing. Two animal skins were stretched out on a tanning rack beside an opened shed, from the size and markings Jonah guessed that they were skinned from deer, according to the elders, these animals were introduced from Earth before the war.

They had stood for over a minute, Jonah guessed that they were waiting on him to come out of the cabin. "I know this much grandpa, your friend is a shit host, leaving his guests out in the dark freezing our asses off." He tapped his fingers against the trunk, his irritation overwhelming his excitement, he pondered for a moment getting back into the crawler and hitting the horn.

"Guests here usually get a knife in the back." A voice made of gravel muttered behind them causing Jonah to jump out his skin, twisting around to face the voice's owner.

He walked out from under the shadow of the trees, his steps never uttering a sound as his eyes never left Jonah's. While clearly in his sixties his build didn't give any hint of physical weakness unlike his grandfather and the other elders from the colony. Despite being clothed in a thin t-shirt that accentuated his well developed musculature he clearly didn't feel the cold in anyway. The height and imposing build for a man of his age was enough to unsettle him but it was the scars and the eyes that truly scared him. Ragged white scars dragged down form the fringe of his long silvered hair over his right eye, clearly caused by an xenomorph during the war. Along with a burn scar that still flamed his skin red even after all of these years, he clearly tried to hide it under his beard. His eyes though were a piercing icy blue, Jonah's mother said that the eyes were a window into a person's soul but he could only guess at what those eyes had witnessed.

That was why Jonah was here though, he'd heard the stories from his grandfather and the other elders but he wanted to hear them from the man himself. He was the last surviving marine from the Reapers that fought in the xenomorph war. Apparently he'd seen it all, the battle for Shanghai, the great exodus, the fall of Manhattan and other countless events.

"It's good to see you brother." The reaper walked forward, a smile lifting away the aggression carved into his expression as he embraced Jonah's grandfather warmly. "I've missed your company."

They separated while his grandfather tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "You too old friend." He looked around with confusion. "Where's Hunter?"

Suddenly though the smile faded away as the reaper looked down with a pained sigh. "He passed away, back legs failed him, must've been around two months ago."

"God... I'm sorry."

"Don't be, he was a good age for a dog and I was with him till the end. Lets get inside Scholar, get you next to the fire."

"Sounds good, the supplies are in the bag."

Without another word the reaper hefted the heavy rucksack, swinging it over his back with ease, despite the fact that Jonah struggled to get it off the ground and he considered himself reasonably fit. Bypassing Jonah without a word he walked with long easy strides towards the cabin.

"Just keep your mouth shut and wait till he gets comfortable." His Grandfather said as they followed at a distance. "You'll get a chance speak later."

Jonah didn't reply, he was too busy looking at what lay at the edge of the clearing, two graves lay with fresh flowers against the backdrop of the bright gas giant with delicately crafted wooden headstones. Beside them an ancient, rusted pulse rifle, it's stock dug into the ground keeping the barrel raised towards the stars. Wrapped around the barrel was a single chain with multiple dog tags encircling the weapon, fluttering weakly in the wind, creating soft chimes as they connected.

Jonah was grateful for the primitive, roaring fireplace once they were inside and despite missing the comfort of the colony the fire provided a strange sensation of homeliness to the young man despite the unknown surroundings. He was given a wooden table chair by the silent reaper while both elders sunk into more comfortable sofa chairs made of real animal leather, both chairs had frayed corners, clearly from the dog that used to live here. He was excluded from conversation for a good hour or two while his grandfather informed the reaper of recent events and news from other colonies.

Despite being old news to Jonah he listened intently to the way the news was answered from the old warrior. He gleaned from his replies that the reaper was disenchanted from the world around him. In a way he wasn't surprised though, up here he was self reliant and despite the visits from his grandfather nothing would ever effect him or the way he lived the rest of his life.

Jonah lost track of time once the talk of current events drew to a close as his grandfather motioned to him to add another log to the fire while he produced large pouches of tobacco from the rucksack.

"Ah Scholar, your my hero. Was almost out." The marine said as he began to roll a few cigarettes, he motioned towards Jonah with one of them. Gratefully he accepted it a he lit it from the fire as he rested back into the chair.

"So storyteller, what's the boy doing here?"

"We had a marine detachment on the last supply run, along with their silver tongue with recruitment. The only way I could keep young Jonah here from leaving here was to let him meet you."

The reaper sniggered as he inhaled a drag from the rolled cigarette. "Nothing ever changes does it, guarantee you the one doing the recruiting was some rear echelon bitch who's never seen combat. Lemme guess kid he told you that the human race needed talented brave youngsters like you to protect us all. That they would mould you into a man and give you a life full of adventure, sound about right?"

Jonah simply nodded, too nervous to speak. The old warrior was nearly right on the point but Jonah didn't want to admit how well the recruiter had persuaded him. He was also surprised to see his grandfather smoking and how this trained killer treated him as an equal. It made him question nearly everything he thought he knew about his grandfather.

"He came home that night to his parents spewing all this glossed over bullshit about how he wanted to enlist. Safe to say I had a visit from them to try and persuade him to abandon this farce, I thought you'd be the man for this task." The Scholar said.

"You couldn't persuade him? Goddamn brother your the warrior of words and you expect me to win this losing battle what's happening to you?"

"I'm getting old and tired friend, you probably wont admit it but I bet your starting to feel time catch up to you. Are your morning runs getting shorter by the year, your sight blurring closer and closer?"

"Jesus your losing your sense of discretion too. But yeah even I'll admit, times catching up to me, not getting the deer as much as I used to. Of all the things I thought would kill me age was something I couldn't train for."

The old marine slumped in his chair as he spoke, defeat hovering above him like a sagging weight as a long minute of silence passed. Jonah decided to take advantage of the moment. "Why did you join the marines sir?"

He pondered the question for a few seconds as he continued to smoke. "I grew up in the middle of Manhattan, shitty neighbourhood and I wasn't very good at school. My big brother was the exact same and he joined the marines to avoid prison, he was flawed but I worshipped the big bastard so I considered joining too. As usual though a girl came along and I slugged out a manufacturing job for a few months until I got the news that he was killed.

I was a wreck when I found out and through some immature insanity I left everything and enlisted. Part of me thought that the only way to make him proud was to be a marine but I was young and stupid."

"Do you regret it?"

"Never." He answered instantly. For a moment he held his face in his callused hands, sitting back up he sniffed loudly and Jonah could see a single tear escape from a face of stone as their eyes met again. "I regret that I'm alive and my brothers aren't."

The reaper rose quickly from his chair and wandered into another room in the cabin, still by the fire Jonah and his grandfather could hear a heavy slam as the marine's loud steps grew more silent.

"Scholar! bring the kid down!" He shouted. "This might hopefully help him make the right decision."

He stood up and motioned for Jonah to follow, they walked through into the hall only to see it disappeared into a cellar. Slowly they came down as Jonah helped his grandfather with the last few steps as there was no light.

That was rectified as the Reaper pulled a cord switch and the entirety of the cellar was unveiled to Jonah's amazement and the Scholar's tears.

The walls were littered with photographs and mounted weapons, photos of marines in jet black armour in all manner of situations including battle. The camera's user was clearly always in close proximity to the marines, some photos showed them as titans facing down the horror, others showed them for what they were, men. Some were of a heaving torrent of civilians huddled together in a degrading squalor, sharing water and ration packs. A rare few were of horrific looking creatures laying dead, the ground around them appeared to have melted beneath them. A single photo was unfocused showing something that towered above a horde of xenomorphs with a demented black crown for a head.

Jonah's eyes scanned around the photos until he gazed at a skull, a completely undamaged xenomorph skull whiter than human bone. Without thinking he walked forward to investigate it further. It was massive, near the size of his leg, ridged along the upper half until he came face to face with the skull. It was eyeless but the teeth were enough to send a chill down Jonah's spine, the mouth was bared open with the infamous jawed tongue protruding forward. He ran a finger along a canine only to wince as it drew blood.

"Watch it kid, forty years later and those teeth are still sharper than any knife. David, you okay?"

Jonah turned to see his grandfather stare dumbfounded and stricken with silent tears as he looked at all the photos, Jonah realised in that moment that his grandfather was the one who took all these photographs.

"I can't believe you kept these, I thought... I thought they were all gone."

The Reaper moved to him and laid an arm over his shoulder as they gazed back into a history that everyone on Horizon had abandoned. Jonah watched them intently, knowing he would never fully know or understand. But he wanted to try.

"Please tell me that you brought some good alcohol."

The Scholar wiped away his tears with a smile. "It's not good but it's strong."

"Good enough for me, if the boy want's to hear this story I'm gonna need some liquid courage to get me in the maudlin mood."

"Sounds hideously perfect. Jonah go get the two bottles out the trunk."

A minute later as Jonah collected the bottles he walked back towards the cabin hoping that he could at least have one drink. The chiming dog tags drew his focus for a moment and without thought he moved towards them for a closer look. The pulse rifle they rested on was badly damaged and rusted beyond repair, even without experience Jonah could tell it had been through a war. He picked up a few of the tags and looked through the names of men consigned to an abandoned memory by people these men had died for.

Emmett, Cutter, Smith, Jackson, Phillips, Briggs. These were a handful of names Jonah read until his grandfather shouted him back to the cabin. Back inside with a drink poured for himself Jonah sank back into his chair. "Is that your rifle out there sir, it looks like its been to hell and back." He asked.

"It's not mine and trust me that rifle has been to hell and more, our home and theirs."

"Who's rifle is it?"

"Death's"