Rather late, this one - but I'm happy with how it turned out, for once! :D Hope you guys enjoy it!

Crosshair's and Quinlan's points of view this time . . . :)

Crosshair slowed his pace, falling to the back of the line as the group sprinted for the stairway leading to of the academy. Pursuing footsteps pounded behind them, and the angry snapping of long jaws echoed off the stone walls.

As Hunter ran up the stairs to the doorway, Crosshair skidded to a halt and turned, holding down his trigger and firing of half a dozen rounds in a couple of seconds. He hardly ever used that feature of his rifle, which often resulted in less precise shots, but here –

– here, it didn't do much. One beast was injured enough to slow to a halt, but the others continued to lurch forward.

Crosshair lined up another shot and fired just as a sudden commotion from the doorway warned him that his teammates were under attack. The creatures before him were only half a dozen meters away.

He slung the rifle over one shoulder, reached to his belt, and grabbed a handful of reflectors. "Plan Twelve?" he called over one shoulder, checking the position of the stormbeast coming down the stairs.

"Good idea!" yelled Hunter. "Tech?"

"Twenty-five, mark one seventeen!"

Crosshair flicked one of his reflector discs at the nearest stormbeast, then slung his rifle forward, firing almost before the disc had stuck to the creature's head. It took a step back, and the laser reflected over Crosshair's shoulder to strike the stormbeast that had just entered the academy.

The sniper took a couple more shots at the group of stormbeasts in front of him, walking backwards as they advanced. A flicker of motion in the corner of his vision made him glance to the side. There were at least another eight hostiles in the shadows at the edge of the room. "You guys out yet?" he demanded, firing again.

Vos appeared at his elbow, Hunter's knife in one hand. "So . . . we've got a bit of a problem."

Crosshair jerked his head pointedly at the approaching monsters. "Yeah?"

"I mean another problem. There's some – whoa." The Jedi leaped forward, slashing one stormbeast's throat in mid-air, and danced back to avoid the falling corpse.

Crosshair leaned to one side in an attempt to get an angle on the nearest creature's eyes. "Why aren't these things using their screams?" he asked curiously.

At the same moment, Quinlan finished, "There's something outside."

They glanced at each other, and Crosshair was just about to demand he explain when the Jedi's eyes widened. "Hunter!" he called. "I think these things are afraid of whatever's outside!"

Hunter skidded to a halt, staring at the slowly growing number of stormbeasts in the central hall. "They don't want to be heard – they're not roaring – so close range fighting's safe."

"Uh," Vos protested. "I didn't say that!"

Hunter had already rushed at the nearest stormbeast, green lightsaber blade igniting in his hand and Wrecker following on his heels.

Quinlan gave a heavy sigh. "Fine. Might as well all be idiots, right?"

As he also rushed forward, Crosshair adjusted his stance and took his time readying each shot. He didn't need to kill the stormbeasts closest to him – all he needed to do was kill any that the others didn't notice.

Tech knelt just beside him, firing one-handed while he kept an eye on the results of whatever scan he was currently running.

Vythia walked past them, igniting her whip. It hissed and sputtered against the ground as she moved forward. Drawing her curved knife in the opposite hand, she slipped between two stormbeasts that were moving towards Wrecker.

Crosshair didn't actually see her initial attack. One instant she was standing between the monsters – the next, there was a blur of motion and one stormbeast reeled into the other, its throat gashed. Vythia took a step back, eyes focused intently on the dying creature, and snapped her arm outward. The gold blade of the lightwhip lashed around the throat of the second monster, and she turned away, deactivating the weapon before either creature hit the ground.

A few meters away, Hunter stabbed his lightsaber through the last monster. There were a few surviving creatures in the lower stairwell – Crosshair could hear their claws shuffling and scraping against the floor and walls – but they weren't approaching. Not yet.

"Aw!" Wrecker yelled, sounding disappointed. "There aren't any more?!"

"Nope," said Vos. "Hey, those things aren't so hard to take down when they're not using those sonic roars."

"I don't understand why they wouldn't use them, though," said Tech, holstering his pistol. "Even if they didn't want to draw the attention of a predator, surely we were the more imminent threat."

Vos shrugged, then glanced down at Hunter's knife and held it out. "Here."

"You'll be needing it," said Hunter disapprovingly. "Since you lost yours."

"I didn't," grumbled the Jedi. "Just didn't have time to take it out of that monster's neck is all. But hey, I'd be glad to use the lightsaber while you take the knife."

Hunter clipped the lightsaber to his belt.

Crosshair smirked. Hunter wasn't pretending that – he really did want to keep the lightsaber. Hm . . . Vos probably won't be able to let him. Maybe, after this mission, we can find a way to get our hands on another one for him.

"Fine," said Vos, flipping the knife around his hand. "Now, what about that thing outside? If the smaller stormbeasts are scared of it –"

Crosshair gave him a suspicious look. "What do you mean, smaller stormbeasts?"

"Well – it looks like a big one. And it's literally right between the ships."

"We need a distraction," said Hunter.

Tech popped up beside him. "I could fly the Marauder to the door!"

Vythia paused, halfway up the stairs. "No . . . The stormbeast will follow, and I think it may be large enough to hold the ship down."

Crosshair glanced from her to Hunter. "And we can't shoot it because . . ."

"I don't want it to fall on either ship," his sergeant said. "Take a look, Cross. It's absolutely huge."

Crosshair reached the top of the stairs, stepped up beside Vythia, and leaned a bit to one side. The weather had changed since they'd entered the academy – the weak sunlight was all but gone, and clouds of dark ash whipped past the door and toward the ships. Directly between the two shuttles stood a hulking figure, mostly hidden by the ash clouds.

There was a crackle of green-yellow lightning, and Crosshair pulled back instinctively as the light revealed the monster. It was a stormbeast, or looked exactly like one, except for the fact that it was a brighter green, and fully eight times the size of the others. The massive stormbeast took slow, visible breaths, its black eyes focused unblinkingly on the door.

Tech ducked beneath Crosshair's elbow to get a better look, then took a curious step forward. ". . . That is decidedly large."

Crosshair caught his shoulder and pulled him out of sight. "Stay back. That thing's watching us."

Hunter stopped a couple of steps below him. "What do you think?"

Crosshair shrugged. "Not sure how resistant it's scales are. I could make the shot, but hitting that thing might just make it angry."

Quinlan blew a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Okaaaaay. So, to summarize the situation, we are trapped between a huge stormbeast and a lot of smaller stormbeasts."

"Yeah," said Hunter. "At first I thought they were just taking shelter from the weather, but . . ."

Wrecker had a grenade in each hand again and was flopping both arms restlessly against his sides. "It can't get in here, right?"

"I don't know." Hunter looked around. "This hall's big enough . . ."

"And the door isn't," finished Quinlan. "Not right now, anyway. But the other beasts were plenty scared that it could get in. . . Hmm. Tech, I'm assuming you can pick it up on scanners."

"Yes," said Tech. "It's just standing there. But we should do something. The stormbeasts in the proving grounds won't stay trapped much longer, and there are others coming up from the lower level."

Vythia folded her arms and inclined her head teasingly. "Well, gentlemen, this is why you were hired. What do you think we should do?"

Hunter glanced at the far corridor, then back at the stairs. "I think we need to get that thing to move. Either we kill it and risk the ships getting damaged or crushed, or we lure it away and then kill it."

"Okay," said Wrecker. "So – explosives?"

"Right." Hunter raised a warning finger. "But not until I say. Tech, any intel you can give us on that monster?"

"It is sixty-one feet in height," he said. "The scales will most likely be able to take multiple hits in the same location without suffering much damage. Other than that, I don't know anything for certain about its capabilities."

"I'm sure we'll find those out quick enough," muttered the Jedi.

Crosshair switched his rifle from one hand to the other. "Too bad we can't get any of the other stormbeasts to head outside."

Hunter shook his head. "We'll have enough to do avoiding the big one."

In the entrance to the west corridor, something croaked.

"You know what," commented the Jedi. "We've got plenty of dead stormbeasts."`

"And explosives!" finished Wrecker.

". . . It's worth a shot," decided Hunter, so quickly that Crosshair was sure he'd just been thinking about the same plan. "I don't know how much damage that monster could withstand from the outside."

Wrecker brought both fists up in a silent cheer.

The croak sounded again, louder this time, and clawed feet shuffled in the opposite corridor. Crosshair shifted to keep both hallways in sight and cast Hunter an incredulous look. "You're not seriously –"

"He is," said Tech, narrowing his eyes at Hunter.

"We'll go in be teams," continued Hunter, completely ignoring their obvious disapproval. "Tech, Vos, get to the Marauder. Vythia, how fast can you ready your ship?"

"I can have it off the ground in thirty seconds."

"Good. Start the engines on my order – do you have a comlink?"

She shook her head.

"Crosshair, you're with Vythia. Comm check."

Crosshair tested his transmitter, then made sure he could hear Hunter. "Ready."

"Okay." Hunter reached for the lightsaber. "Wrecker, you know what to do. Let's hope that thing likes chasing lights."

Quinlan flattened himself against the wall of the stairwell across from Tech, who glanced up and nodded. A few steps above them stood Crosshair and Vythia, both of them somehow contriving to look bored despite the absolutely stupid plan the team was about to carry out. Quinlan tapped his fingers against the opposite forearm as he considered his assessment of the plan. Both Hunter, a commando sergeant, and himself, a Jedi Knight, had thought of the same strategy at the same time. And, of course, that strategy did make the most sense, given the situation.

Yeah, nope, Quinlan thought in resignation. Doesn't change the fact that it's still essentially a stupid plan. Oh, well . . .

At the very top of the stairs, just inside the door, stood Hunter and Wrecker. The sergeant held the lightsaber hilt in one hand and a detonator in the other. Wrecker carried an entire dead stormbeast on his shoulders. This particular stormbeast had to weigh at least three hundred pounds, but Wrecker simply grabbed it with one hand and hoisted it effortlessly over his shoulders.

Hunter raised the hand holding the detonator and glanced down at the rest of the group. Quinlan adjusted his hold on the long vibroblade, which he had positioned in a reverse grip, and readied himself to move. Tech met his gaze and tilted his head questioningly toward the exit. Quinlan nodded to show that he was ready and waiting.

Tech checked his scanner one last time, then tapped his wrist comm. A red light flashed – Three, two, one . . .

Hunter leaped up the last two steps and plunged straight into the wind and ash that blasted the whole region. Wrecker followed, moving fast despite the huge corpse he carried. Again, Tech's light blinked – Three, two, one . . .

Crosshair and Vythia moved together, ran up the stairs and into the soaring clouds of dust, keeping close to the wall of the academy. Vythia had one arm over her eyes and the opposite hand over her mouth and nose in an attempt to protect herself from the driving ash. Last countdown – Three, two, one . . .

Quinlan dashed up the stairs, Tech keeping pace beside him, and shielded his face with both arms. Hundreds of particles of ash stung his forearms and cheeks. He couldn't see more than a few feet in any direction, and already the taste of cold smoke was filling the back of his throat. It felt as though he'd swallowed a mouthful, but his experience with the sandstorms on Tatooine kept him from instinctively drawing a deep breath. He probably had breathed in a few particles at most.

As he followed Tech – who was having a much easier time, courtesy of the nifty armor – Quinlan was glad that this dust storm was made up of ash, not sand. Sand was heavier, and a lot harder to move through.

Tech raised his right hand abruptly, and Quinlan halted. It had been about half a minute since Hunter left the shelter of the academy . . . So, why wasn't the stormbeast reacting to his presence? He glanced back briefly, trying to locate the lightsaber, but could see nothing but grey whirls.

As he turned to face forward again, the wind lessened for an instant, and Quinlan caught sight of two figures a short way ahead of him, halfway to the shuttles. Crosshair and Vythia were sheltering against the wall, waiting for the next signal. Good, that was four team members accounted for. Now, where the heck were Hunter and Wrecker?

A strange whistling caught his attention. He tapped Tech's shoulder and pointed him toward the wall as he glanced around. High-speed winds would produce shrill sounds when blowing over holes in the ground or in buildings, but that sound might also be Hunter, trying to get their attention if the comms were down –

A bolt of lightning arced across the sky, leaping from cloud to cloud, and vanished.

He was still blinking the afterimage away when Tech jerked suddenly, pointed into the sky, and shrieked, "Quinlan!"

Quinlan couldn't sense the Force at the moment, but the tone of Tech's voice was more than enough to warn him that he was in extreme danger. He flung himself recklessly to the side, rolling over several times to gain distance. Something rushed down past his shoulders, just snagging his tunic, and drove into the ash with a muted crunch.

Quinlan twisted onto his stomach and got into a crouch, staring at the taloned hand that was being lifted out of the ground. The clawed fingers were fully as long as he was tall. He got to his feet and moved slowly backward, tilting his head back as he put distance between himself and Tech.

The dead, staring eyes of the massive stormbeast glinted in the next green-gold flash of lightning, but they weren't focused on him. The monster appeared to have forgotten all about him – it was turning away, hands reaching out towards something close to the ships.

Tech lifted a hand to get his attention, and Quinlan glanced over, but his vision was weirdly blurred. The persistent stinging on his face finally alerted him to the fact that his eyes were watering profusely. Blinking tears and grit out of his vision, he ran across the few meters that separated him from Tech. They ducked close to the wall, where the wind was less violent and where they were afforded at least a little shelter from the stormbeast, which was still ignoring them.

As they watched, it took a slow step toward the ships, then paused. Again, Quinlan heard the strange whistling, and he glanced up. The stormbeast had tilted its long-jawed head back and was sniffing in prolonged, shrill gasps. It didn't seem to even notice the ash, despite how much it must have been breathing in.

Tech grabbed his wrist and pointed toward the Marauder, distinguishable only as a vague shape, despite how close it was. Crosshair and Vythia were nowhere in sight – they must have gotten to the Phoenix already. Quinlan shielded his mouth with one hand and risked talking. "What about Hunter and Wrecker?"

The commando's eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. "We have to carry out our part of the mission," he said, just audible above the rasping of ash on stone. "They weren't spotted, so they're probably fine."

Quinlan nodded and jerked his chin at the stormbeast, which took another step forward. "Let's get around behind it."

They raced out, head-on into the wind, and sprinted silently across the shifting grey ash toward the Marauder. There was a deep, throaty rumbling from behind them, and then Quinlan thought he heard a voice crackling through his wrist comm. Tech apparently received the message, because he spun around, nearly falling as he skidded to a halt.

Quinlan caught him by the elbow, and stared back toward the academy, wondering what it was they were supposed to be seeing. The storm around them lit up a sickly, pulsating green as multiple flashes of lightning punctured the night. Silhouetted against the flickering background, the stormbeast tilted its head back and screamed.

The sound struck Quinlan like a physical blow. One moment he was standing, the next he was on his side, hands clamped uselessly over his ears. Beside him, Tech shouted and clutched at the sides of his helmet, then dropped to his knees.

The scream wasn't stopping. It rose in pitch as the stormbeast lowered its head and reached out toward the Phoenix, and Quinlan was abruptly aware of two separate sensations – an overwhelming sense of urgency, and the thick feel of blood in his throat.

He turned on his side, gagging in an attempt to clear his airway. Tech had already ripped off his helmet and was doing the same. The stormbeast finally closed its jaws, and Quinlan gasped in relief.

Tech had just put his helmet on and regained his feet when the lightning flashed again – a double-flicker that turned the world a pale, electric green. Next to the Phoenix, and directly in the path of the slowly moving stormbeast, lay two crumpled figures.

Quinlan hit his comm, cursed at the hissing static that was all he could make out, and grabbed Tech's arm. "Get Hunter on the comm, now!"

"Already on it," replied Tech tautly. "Hunter, come in! Crosshair's in trouble. If you can hear us, we're moving in."
He was already running forward when he paused and pressed two fingers to the side of his helmet, as though it would help him hear better.

"He there?" Quinlan asked after a few seconds.

Tech waved for him to be quiet, then nodded. "Got it. Quinlan, Hunter's going to distract the monster. We need to get Crosshair and Vythia to safety."

Quinlan nodded and set off for the Phoenix. The reverberating thuds in his chest told him that he was running purely on adrenaline. It wouldn't last long, but given that adrenaline was probably the only thing keeping him from being sick as a two-headed dog at the moment, he wasn't about to complain. Tech was also stumbling and unsteady, but even so, they made quick progress.

They drew even with the stormbeast before it got close enough to reach Vythia and Crosshair, who were lying completely motionless. As the two of them moved quickly past the monster, Tech reached for his pistols several times, always pausing before actually drawing them. Quinlan was gripping the vibroblade so hard that it was almost slipping from his hand. But they weren't there to take out the stormbeast, and Quinlan had the strangest feeling that it would have ignored them even if they attacked it. They passed within feet of the stormbeast, and it didn't so much as look at them.

Tech steadied himself against the stern of the Phoenix as he reached it, and Quinlan joined him, feeling his way along the ship. A green blade cut through the storm, only a few meters from Quinlan, and reflected in Hunter's visor. The commando sergeant stood directly over Crosshair, who was just pushing himself up onto one hand. Hunter held the lightsaber in one hand and Vythia's satchel in the other.

When Hunter saw them – Quinlan could tell by the slight dip of his helmet – he ran off to the side, holding the glowing blade above his head.

To Quinlan's shock, the stormbeast followed, swiping at Hunter with one massive arm. The sergeant ducked and dove into a safety roll, somehow managing to hold the lightsaber properly. He stood again, only just in time to dodge a strike from the opposite claw, and Quinlan noticed that he was no longer holding the satchel. What the . . .

From the doorway, Tech shouted, "Get them inside! We have to take off!"

Quinlan tried to help Crosshair up, but the sniper shoved him back and reached for his rifle, so he turned to Vythia instead. She was kneeling, one hand braced against the ship as she stared intently after Hunter. The wind whipped her head-tentacles forward around her face, but she ignored both it and Quinlan, who eventually grabbed her elbows and hoisted her upright.

She glanced once at him, then narrowed her eyes at the barely-visible figure of Hunter. "What is he doing?" she asked tonelessly.

"No idea, but you'd better get inside. We've got to get out of here!"

Tech ran out to join them. "I've got the engines prepped!" he said.

"A moment," said Vythia.

"I still have to get the Marauder underway," Tech began.

"Wait!" she ordered, so sharply that Tech jerked in response.

Quinlan hesitated, glancing between the stormbeast, which was still moving away from them, and the others. Wrecker was nowhere to be seen. Hunter, just visible in the glow of his lightsaber, danced just out of reach of the stormbeast's increasingly aggressive attacks. Crosshair held his rifle, but he didn't look like he'd be able to stand straight any time soon, much less make an accurate shot, and Tech was staring at Quinlan as though waiting for instructions.

The Jedi looked first at Vythia, standing motionless despite the wind that whipped at her head-tentacles and dress, then at the Marauder. "Tech, can you get to the ship?"

Tech drew a pistol. "Yes."

"Then get over there. I don't know what Hunter's planning, but he'll probably need help and a fast getaway."

Tech nodded firmly and darted off into the storm.

Quinlan watched him leave, then turned back to the others. Vythia was so intent on Hunter that she may as well have been carved out of stone. If he had to drag her to the ship, he would, but for now there wasn't much point. Keeping half his attention on her and the stormbeast, he moved over to Crosshair.

"I'm staying," Crosshair said, his voice only just audible through the wind, before Quinlan could say a word.

Quinlan closed his mouth hard, little bits of ash gritting between his teeth. He hadn't been going to do anything except suggest that Crosshair wait just inside the door of the Phoenix. Quinlan's nerves were frayed, and he was shaking all over from unspent adrenaline. Somehow, Crosshair's belligerent attitude pushed him over the edge, and he leaned towards the sniper. "You know what, Crosshair – I should just push you over right now and drag you inside! It would be easy!"

It would be, too. Crosshair kept adjusting his hold on his rifle, trying to keep it steady against one shoulder while he wavered against the ship.

Crosshair's helmet turned briefly in his direction, then away, as though completely disregarding him.

Hunter's lightsaber stopped abruptly, then vanished. Crosshair took a step forward and wavered, and Quinlan steadied him, their argument completely forgotten. Behind them, the engines of the Marauder came to life.

Vythia gasped as though in realization, then ran forward, stumbling and sliding every few steps. "No –!"

Quinlan automatically lunged after her and caught her arm. "Wait – Vythia!"

"We need that!" she cried, twisting free. "He can't –!"

The Marauder's floodlights turned on, providing relief from the constant flashes of brilliance that interspersed the darkness. The massive stormbeast reared back, one huge claw closed around the dead stormbeast Wrecker had been carrying earlier.

Wrecker and Hunter were backing slowly away, and Hunter was once again holding a detonator.

Crosshair eyed the distance between the stormbeast and the Phoenix, then turned to Quinlan. "We'd better get on the ship."

The stormbeast closed huge jaws over the corpse, its teeth snapping together with a sound like a stone door slamming shut.

Vythia clenched her fists at her sides and stared up at the monster, her eyes a deep purple-red, as the stormbeast swallowed.

Hunter pressed the detonator. The stormbeast's head jerked back, and it twisted, writhing silently, twisting almost completely around, before focusing its gaze back on Hunter and Wrecker, who were running for the ship.

Opening its jaws, the stormbeast made a lunge for them, falling onto all fours and shaking the ground as Wrecker and Hunter dove to either side. Now on a level with them, and only a few meters away, it collapsed to its stomach.

Quinlan grabbed Crosshair's arm and pulled him back toward the Phoenix, along with Vythia. The Marauder hovered well above them as the stormbeast twisted onto its back, spasming in its death agony, and let out the most horrible, piercing scream Quinlan had heard in his life.

The overpowering scream drowned out all other sounds, and yet Quinlan was somehow aware of cries of pain and panic all around him. His last thought as someone fell against him was, Force – I can feel the others again – of all times . . .

I'll be updating 'Not Our Style' on Tuesday, early-ish in the day . . . You know, while we're all waiting for the premiere . . . ! I can't decide whether I'm excited or nervous or both. Probably both. :D

Also, that 'mark one seventeen' was a direct tribute to one of my favorite Halo soundtrack pieces, '117'.