Slayer's Vengeance

by Jago-Dakari

A meeting between a yautja huntress and a human marine turned vengefull slayer will shake the very foundation of both races in this story of adventure, love and loss.

40. Chapter 35

Hey all!

I am so sorry for the delay but things have been so hectic on this end. i got five or so projects in the works, including an original story for a competition (Which i doubt i'll finish in time but i'll give it hell!). Also, Alien Insurrection is coming along nicely on *web page that the site won't let me write down even with spaces! so check it out on my page.* and also the commissioned series A Knight's Heritage. Be sure to become a patron for as little as a dollar, these and more will be open to you. Shameless self advertising aside, i had also submitted summaries and samples to the Black Library, Games Workshop's publishing arm, for a anthology collection they're doing. Wish me luck!

as to progress on the remainder of Slayer's Vengeance, i am planning to wrap this up within 5-10 chapters. no ETA on when that is going to occur but i tell you this. I AM NOT LETTING THIS STORY GO UNFINISHED!

So without further a due, read away, leave a comment and enjoy.

...And let me know if all those brain wracking late night session was worth it.

*Frustrations venting*

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Chapter 35- Gatecrasher from hell.

So far, the introductions were going rather well. Or at least the humans and dwarves did not have to worry about having their heads mounted on a wall. Having a massive ship two kilometres long and bristling with enough firepower to virtually annihilate anything that could be thrown at them was a deciding factor.

And also the fact that all of the initiates had come back safe and sound did much to show that conflict was not on the guests' agenda.

Inside the Karak's hold, Krags and an engineer watched from the top of the ramp at everything that was happening. Each had a tankard of ale in their hands and were taking long drafts as the introductions went smoothly so far. And by long drafts, that usually means downing the whole tankards in ten seconds or less. But they had a keg of ale, about the size of an industrial oil drum, at their feet so there was no worry of running out.

Yet.

Other engineers and deck hands were loitering about the notably empty hold or were heading back up deck now that their job was over for the time being. Those who stayed were relishing the shock that the yautja were feeling from the Primarch's remains. To them, it felt good to have the normally arrogant hunters taken down a notch. Especially by a 'human'.

The crowd of yautja at this point, the novelty of the new arrivals dissipating or not being able to stomach it any longer, began to disperse either back to their own ships or leaving the docks all together. The line of arbitrators were keeping the remaining spectators in check, especially due to Hy'dorles' raving. But there was little he could do to stop what was transpiring. The first major visit to Lai'kairis by another race. A race that, as a culture of hunters, had a long history of hunting for sport.

The Archangels were chatting amongst themselves while Andrzej and Varlin were busy conversing with Kal'deris about the details of their ambassadorial visit and the fact that this of peaceful intent. Hicks standing nearby was having a field day as he typed rapidly into his pad while recording the proceedings. Stonefather Kazrik was still with the High Priestess and her granddaughter, now warming up to conversation although he was still reserved when it came about the inner workings of his faith. Zel'tyr in the meantime was having a closer look at Kra'vyx's trophy, her experienced eyes going over every contour and ridge over the xenomorph's armoured cranium as her son recounted how he got it. She was mildly disappointed that it was not by his own blades but praised his quick thinking on using khazdryn weaponry. Fel'tak and Kra'vyx stood to the sides having a light-hearted argument about who was the badass of the hunt.

The title of which undeniably belonged to Alaric.

Alaric, on the other hand, was with Ja'anya and they were standing on the sidelines out of the way. Taking advantage of not being the centre of attention, he was content to just be with her as the huntress kept him in a close embrace. Barring Aegis on his shoulder of course who was keeping vigil over them. And that was causing some thoughts to brew to those who saw them.

Thoughts that either provoked feelings of joy, such as from Ja'anya's friend Quel'lyr, to images of disgust, coming from Hy'dorles. But Ja'anya didn't care what others thought in their bigoted state of minds. Alaric was back and that was all that mattered to her.

The two dwarven engineers watched from their spot on the ramp as the arbitrator was now coming around from behind the primarch, continuing his scans in a thorough methodical manner. Behind them, the whirring of the hold's cargo cranes was even now beginning to rearrange the stacked container walls. The massive geometrical claw would clamp onto each container as the magnetised pads latched on to ensure a secure grip with a resounding thunk. With four such cranes in use, it would not be long before the hold was like it was until the need to move another gargantuan trophy rises again.

"Have to say, Krags, I didn't think you'd fit the big bastard in the hold." the engineer praised.

Krag's nodded his head in thanks, his mop hair swaying in the air. Like a yak swatting away a persistent fly.

"How little faith you lot have." he said, taking a gulp from his tankard. "I'm not a champion of Khaz'kro'med for nothing."

"I'm not denying that." the engineer clarified, pointing his tankard at the Primarch's remains. "It's not everyday you can fit a mountain-sized Primarch inside the Karak. And that wasn't even the biggest of them."

"It's all about maximising space." Krags elaborated, with the relevant dirty gesture of the hands. "You gotta fill up EVERY inch."

"Now you're starting to sound like Treval." the engineer compared with a grimace taking a gulp from his tankard. "Speaking of which, what do you think of our Lord's, err... choice?" he asked, pointing with his tankard to the person in question.

Krags pulled his mop hair from his eyes so he could get a better look at Alaric's lady companion. Flicking down on the the magnifier lenses over his eye, he could make out Ja'anya's lithe features from where he stood. Her black tiger stripes on her dark tan body with her dreadlocks reaching past her waist. Her violet eyes were vibrant in Alaric's presence, a perfect contrast to his ruby eyes. And he could make out the shieldhawk pendant around her neck and settling on her chest. Excellent make for a non Khazdryn piece.

All in all, considering dwarven standards of beauty, Krags nodded his head.

"A bit thin for my taste." he said, flicking the lens up and lowering his hair. "Lovely eyes. Nice stripes and, more importantly, long dreadlocks. I'd say he did well."

"That's what I thought." the engineer agreed, holding his tankard in a toast. "Not many lasses with hair past the belt these days. Well, aside from Kila and a few others."

In terms of appearance, long hair was considered physically attractive to the Khazdryn. The longer, the better. A saying was that a dwarf man with his beard past his belt was a fine catch for a lady. The same could be said for the opposite sex as a dwarf lady with her locks down to her rump would attract even a lord regardless of her social standing.

The sound of a squeaking wheel was heard, along with barely subtle grumbling and disgusted coughs. Krags jumped in place abruptly and nearly spilling his drink as a loud coarse cough was heard behind them, almost like an asthmatic bull after smoking an entire tobacco harvest. The engineer on the other hand just watched.

"I hope you bastards aren't planning on spilling any more ale!" a rough voice warned. "You're lucky our Lord's trophy avoided getting sticky!"

The two engineers turned round to see a notably elderly dwarf, dressed in the Khazdryn equivalent of janitor smocks with a long smoking pipe in his mouth whose wispy beard was so long that it was dragging on the floor like a brush, mopping up a tacky puddle of congealed ale. Where the stowed Primarch's head was situated and two dented tankards were put next to a wheeled bucket of which suds were dripping from the rim.

"I mean, look at the mess!" he said, picking up his beard and tucking it into his belt. "They couldn't even be arsed picking up their tankards!" he then tucked his beard again when it was still dragging on the floor with a grumbling cough. "Blasted symbol of manhood!" he cursed tucking it again as it still dragged on the floor.

Krags and the engineer suppressed a mirthful snicker as the janitor finally resolved to wrapping his beard around his neck like a scarf. Suffice to say, it was enough to cover the entire lower face with his nose poking over the top and enough was left to drape down to his belt. And some disgruntled grumbling could be heard from behind the hairy barrier.

For the Khazdryn it was considered taboo, and above all insulting, to shave off beards as it was a symbol of adulthood and also, because of their ingrained respect towards their elders, age. In a way, beards are also a de facto symbol of rank and younger dwarves would always look to the oldest of their elders for advice. Trimming was regarded as an unofficial exception as most dwarves would have adopted a hair style when reaching adulthood and would be expected to maintain it as long as it did not interfere with overall length. Or in the case of Treval, some dwarves prefer to go all natural and let the beard style itself, often the result being the closest example of the classic wild man. The women also fell into the same thinking, keeping their long hair in neatly arranged braids and such. The only time that they would undo them was when it was time to wash or for the bedroom.

And a lady dwarf with her hair out was often guaranteed to get a man's blood hot.

While the elderly janitor began mopping up the mess, muttering loudly and incoherently from his hairy gag, that brought up an issue that had been nagging at the engineers' heads since they came down into the hold.

"Speaking of which, where's Orgni and Grimgi?" the engineer asked.

"Dunno, haven't seen them since they went to secure the bone pile." Krags said with a shrug. "I thought they were going to be here for the big reveal. They spent long enough down here."

It was true. Aside from Orgni's confirmation that the Primarch's remains were secure, there had been no word or even any sign of the dwarf and his colleague. No one had seen them on the upper decks and their ale keg was still by the elevator. No good thinking dwarf would ever forget their ale. Some stingy dwarves were always keen for a free drink.

In fact, some of the deck hands took the opportunity to pilfer it themselves. Every now and then, they would tauntingly call out to the keg's missing owners to join them before they drank it all. Silence was the only answer they got.

"Oh well, its their loss." Krags concluded with a unconcerned shrug as he raised his tankard to his lips.

Krags was about to take another gulp when a dense thud was heard, echoing from the cargo hold. The dwarf lowered his tankard as his mind registered the sound, that of a cargo container's wall being knocked on, and how out of place it was. Considering how tightly they packed their containers before and after stowing the Primarch, there should be nothing loose.

The dwarves at the kegs paused for a moment, pondering the noise for a moment in thought before they shrugged and continued drinking. Krags on the other hand raised his mop brow with a free hand.

"The Kruk was that?" Krags asked.

Another thud was heard, echoing throughout the hold. And then another roughly ten seconds later.

"It's coming from over there." the cleaner pointed with his mop and dripping suds from the cleaning implement. "If that's them, give them a thrashing for me."

Krags downed his tankard before setting off to investigate with the engineer in tow. The engineer however left his tankard by the keg, but not before downing that too. They walked in the direction of the echoing thuds, walking past the janitor and copping a scathing tirade for stepping on his work. Leaving the fuming janitor behind them, and hearing his creative curses echo in the spacious hold, Krags pulled from his belt a small octagonal flash light, attached by a lanyard to his belt, and shone it ahead.

Further up ahead into the darker areas of the hold, they could just make out a series of glistening patches that caught the light of the torch beams. Almost like the trail of some aquatic creature that had came onto land. Krag's shone his torch onto the floor and sure enough they could see a footprint on the stone decking. A damp patch of congealed fluid arranged in a series of angular lines with rounded edges. Undoubtedly, it was a Khazdryn boot that left these prints.

"Hmm, some tracks." Krags postulated, patting his hand onto the sticky footprint. "And they're heading in the direction of that thumping." he held a finger to his mouth and licked the sticky fingertip before nodding. "Spilt ale. That's definitely them."

Another thud was heard as if to confirm his finding. Pointing his finger, Krags located the direction the sound was coming from. With his light shining on the floor to highlight the prints the two dwarves found their source.

The tracks were heading right to a stack of cargo containers at the far end of the hold. Tucked away from sight and out of thought.

Krags and the engineer approached the cargo container in question and the bottom of the stack, hearing more dense thuds coming from within. Looking down on floor, they saw that there were faint scrapes in the stone panelling from where the containers door had been opened. And the scrapes, judging from their crispness looked to be quite recent.

"Well, it seems that we found them." Krags said, pointing at the cargo container.

Looking up at the identification plate on the container, they could see much to their perplexity that this was a food container. One of the containers that contained a consignment of Rock Bread. Similar to hard tack made by humans, Rock Bread is made to last and had also been used for other unorthodox purposes aside from consumption. The most popular of which was using them as actual rocks to throw at foes, or a stupendously bad entertainer, and a well targeted blow could stun even the most hardy dwarf.

Or at the very least, break the bread into smaller and more manageable chunks.

"Looks like they may have had the munchies." the engineer surmised before rubbing his jaw knowingly. "And maybe a trip to the dentist afterwards."

Krag's walked up and knocked loudly on the container's door, intending to get the two dwarves inside their attention.

"Did you two drunkenly lock yourselves in there?" he asked. "And have any of you broken a tooth yet?"

Another thud was heard from within a few seconds of the last thump, almost like an answer. It sounded almost intimate. Krag's mop brow raised with a mixture of perplexity and revulsion as images started to form in his brain as the thuds began a slow and resonating beat.

"Sounds a bit... rhythmic?" the engineer described as he reached for the lever. "Who's on the bottom?"

Krags muttered loudly as he banged on the door more loudly with his fist. The last thing he wanted was to see the act of lovemaking between two men. Especially in a cargo container with provisions for the whole ship.

In Khazdryn society, homosexuality was not forbidden. Rather it was discouraged, the logic being that it serves no purpose in bringing new dwarves into the world. Though, as many a dwarf would later admit on their deathbeds, it was an interesting way of keeping warm when caught in an unexpected blizzard. The biggest problem is, due to the Khazdryn being a proud people, who should be on the bottom often had to be resolved with the first to be literally beaten to the bottom. Then again, some dwarves like it rough.

"Guys, if you two are buggering each other in there, do it in the closet instead of a cargo container." Krags said, rubbing his eyes before banging on the door again. "We don't want the goods seasoned with essence of Khazdryn."

Another dense thud, more forceful then the last was heard, almost like it was in defiance and Krags nodded to the engineer to open the container. This was going to take more physical means then strong words.

"Ready or not, here I come." Krags warned before he realised the innuendo he had just said. "Kruk, that came out wrong!"

The engineer, sniggering at the unintended smutty pun, pulled the lever down, releasing the locking lugs before twisting it and then heaved the door open with a grunt. The door scrapped on the stone floor as the engineer heaved it open, following the marks on the stone floor flawlessly. Krags held up the torch from his belt and shone it into the container.

"All right. Who's taking it up the..." Krags started before he paused.

Krags, eyes wide and mouth agape, dropped his tankard from the sight, the metal cup clattering loudly onto the stone floor. The engineer stuck his head round the door to see what was going on, hoping they had not caught them in mid act, and his beard cringed.

This was not the sight of lovemaking between the same sex but something more disturbing.

Inside were the two missing dwarves. Grimgi was slumped against the far wall, sitting against the large sacks of baked goods with his head down and swaying numbingly like he was having a seizure. Orgni was numbingly bashing his head against the container's wall. Both dwarves looked extremely pallid in the torch light. Almost deathly. Orgni gave one final head butt with a sickening crack to the wall before slumping down towards Krags, his head rolling upward. There was a notable blood splatter trickling down on the wall from the head banging and from his own split scalp. Grimgi rose his head as Orgni began to limply rise from his prone state.

But that was not the most shocking thing that Krags saw. Rather the most shocking thing was something that was not there.

Both Orgni and Grimgi were hollows as their lambent eyes, an eerie shade of purple, told.

"Oh Khazdryk's beard, no!" Krag's gasped.

"Hollowed?!" the engineer exclaimed. "How!?"

Krags looked back out of the cargo bay, to where the Primarch was displayed. The arbitrator was now scanning it's head as the beams of light pulsed over the contours of the skull. And from where he stood, as his sharper sight told him. One of the glowing wards on the Primarch, that was out of sight of anyone watching, was flickering ominously.

It was the only explanation.

"Get Igneous down here quick!" Krags ordered to the engineer before dashing off as fast as his legs could carry him. "Hurry!"

The engineer reached for his radio, homing in on the Golem's signal from where ever the grumbling hunk of masonry was, as he shut the container's door. Because of the two hollows in the container, regardless of their former position as members of the crew, they were now considered a threat. Even as the engineer hurriedly sealed the container, he could hear the thumping inside as the hollows began to try and force their way out. He even took the precaution of bolting it shut.

Krags in the meantime bolted past the janitor, inadvertently kicking the bucket in his stride and earning a foul mouthed tirade hurled at him from the deluge of soapy water. Feet dripping with suds, Krags came running down the ramp, almost tripping up as he reached the bottom. He frantically waved his arms, trying to get everyone's attention. The arbitrator at that point finished his scans, mentally noted the results and began to confirm the authenticity of the trophy.

Oblivious to this hidden danger, the arbitrator turned his head to Kal'deris but didn't move from his spot.

"Elder, this is authentic." The arbitrator reported, showing Kalderis his wristcomp's readouts. "And it is indeed Khainde Amedha. Primordial stock from the look of it."

Kal'deris walked over to see the readouts for himself. Giving an satisfied grunt and nod approvingly, he turned back to the diminished crowd. Hy'dorles was standing out like a sore thumb with all his glinting ornamented attire.

"Hy'dorles, you can stop your shouting!" Kal'deris called out. "This is authentic! Deal with it!"

Ja'anya purred softly as she heard the Loremaster's incensed raving increase. Even with overwhelming evidence to the contrary, the elder still would not accept it. Alaric even smirked as he felt Ja'anya pull him closer. He was satisfied that that he had just essentially put his biggest critic in his place.

And he would love to see anyone try to go through what he did to earn it.

"Its nice to see the pompous Loremaster put in his place." Ja'ayna said in mirth.

Alaric nodded in agreement.

"I've been wondering how he would freak out." Alaric admitted. "Even better to see it happen in real life."

But at that moment, Aegis suddenly rose his head as if he had heard something. Something that no one else could hear like a dog hearing an ultrasonic whistle. Looking around for a second, he laid eyes on the Primarch's remains. His diamond eyes contracted into pinpricks of light before he gave out a loud call. A call of warning. And unfortunately, it was right in Alaric's ear.

Alaric and Ja'anya flinched as Aegis hopped off Alaric's shoulder and landed on the deck. Alaric held his ear as he saw Aegis flap his wings in warning. Right at the dead Primarch. Ja'anya growled lowly, annoyed that the hawk had snapped them out of their close embrace.

"Buzz kill!" Alaric cursed, too busy with the ringing in his ears to notice Aegis' action.

The thumping of boots was now audible, coupled with a crumpling thud as Krags tripped over his own feet, face first into the deck. His welding mask tumbled from his head, clattering loudly on the deck. But the dwarf had no time to look undignified, heaving himself up with a bloody nose staining his beard.

The laughter being aimed at him, demeaning as it was, did little to deter him from his urgent mission.

"Get away from the Primarch!" Krags screamed out, waving his arms. "Get away!"

Everyone looked to him, wondering what he was raving about. And then the reason made itself perfectly clear.

A shrill hum of power was heard. The wards on the Primarch's head died out with a whine, prompting the arbitrator to turn back around to investigate. Kazrik eyes widened when he saw all the wards suddenly die out. And that was followed sharply by the sound of bone and flesh being punctured.

A startled yell of pain blurted from the arbitrator as a three pronged segmented barbed tail punched through his abdomen and upper let shoulder before bursting out of his back in a shower of green blood. This shower drenched Kal'deris with contrast with his red robes, causing the elder to stumble back in shock. The tail in question had punched out of the Primarch's skull. From a sudden ring of glowing purple glyphs encircled a disk of pure darkness.

A displacement field.

Alaric hurriedly pulled Ja'anya back at the sight of this sudden impossible attack, his hand immediately reaching for Spellbreaker on his back and hefting the great axe up with his free hand. The Archangels, remembering the sight they saw on the Karak's bridge, instinctively drew their swords in one fluid motion and Kazrik hefted Forge as he stood in front of the High Priestess. Varlin drew from his cloak a gauss revolver, not unlike the one that Alaric found in the prison, and pulled back the hammer. Kra'vyx was quick to pull his mother back as Feltak and Mal'fax exclaimed loudly in in terror and hurriedly backed off.

Lysandros and Cyrus, already on high alert, had their spears trained on the tail that had impaled the arbitrator. Lysandros was the first to throw his spear, the weapon singing through the air to try and free the arbitrator. The spear impacted the tail, a bright flash coming from the point of impact before the spear bounced off like a tension spring. The spear then flew back into Lysandro's hand and the spartan readied himself. Cryus however kept his spear level in both hands.

The yautja arbitrators armed their combisticks at what was assumed to be an ambush. A boarding party that had been hidden inside the Primarch's remains. Kal'deris did not know what to think as he wiped blood from his face as the impaled arbitrator half slumped in pain, held up by the prongs.

"What is this?!" Kal'deris demanded with shocked anger.

The Loremaster was quick to exploit this sudden display of violence.

"SEE! I TOLD YOU!" Hy'dorles could be heard from the masses. "IT'S AN ATTACK!"

The dwarves on the other hand were quick to object to that sudden and biased accusation. Especially when the mob was starting to get roused.

"Use your collective brain cell!" Varlin scolded. "Does that look human?!"

The answer as to whether this was an attack by the humans and the Khazdryn was about to be revealed.

A shrill humming of power was heard as the Primarch's skull glowed with an eldritch purple glow, light seeping out from the joins in the skulls cranial plates. In haunting unison, the plates began to fluidly part like petals on a flower. The glyph ring vanished as the plates behind his shifted out of the way. And from the purple haze could the cavernous interior of the Primarch's skull be seen. A tangible mass of pure darkness. And rising from within this unearthly void was a massive and almost shield- like crested head.

And to those who had survived on the planet, in that valley where death almost claimed them, it was a unfathomable sight.

It was the Praetorian.

Against all logical explanation, it had survived Alaric's intervention after all and had the horrific scars to show for it. Its carapace was melted, bubbled and cracked from its defeat against Alaric's phasecasters. The carapace around it's maw dripped into more fangs, adding more terror to it's already ungodly form. As it moved it's head, sickening cracks was heard as it's warped carapace splintered and fractured like an old scabrous wound that had reopened, ichor seeping from the newly formed fissures. It stared at them, opening it's ragged maw and hissed loudly as it's inner jaw extended.

Its way of telling them 'I'm back'.

"No!" Ly'enta screamed.

Everyone who had the misfortune of encountering this Praetorian and it's kin, be it in the past during the Dark Times or the present on that ice planet, could testify on the young huntress's shock. As to those who had never seen anything like this before, they could only gawk in both abject terror and surprise.

Nothing like this had ever been seen before. Outside of old songs and half forgotten legends.

Even Hy'dorles went silent from the sight of this ancient xenomorph. After raving that the Primarch's remains were nothing but a hoax, an actual living example came out from it's gargantuan skull. He had been proven wrong again in less then an hour.

The stricken arbitrator's eyes went wide, in both utter shock from what he saw and extreme pain from the prongs embedded in his flesh, before he was hoisted up into the air and brought face to face with the Praetorian. The bug gazed at him for a few deathly long seconds, almost like it was examining him for some purpose, before it opened it's mouth.

While those watching could only guess that the arbitrator was going to be finished off by a head-bite, the Praetorian had another idea. An idea of fixing the damage that Alaric had inflicted upon it. And sow a little terror in the process.

Eldritch energy, complete with spectral embers, began burning from within it's maw like a foundry of malice. The baneful light illuminated the arbitrator's wide eyed face as the Praetorian's body began to glow.

Another crunch filled then air as the Praetorian drove it's tail further into the arbitrator, provoking a pained shout from the enforcer and that was when the horror began.

The fiery light that was burning within the Praetorian's maw erupted into a coruscating mass of energised tendrils that latched onto the arbitrator's agony riddled face, embedding in his eyes and mouth. The arbitrator let out a series of pained gasps and choking as he could feel his life being literally pulled from him.

This was a sight that would send even the most stoic of minds into a downward spiral of insanity. Seeing something that only the gods themselves could perform.

Alaric could see something being drawn from the Arbitrators mouth. Something unnervingly familiar. A glowing stream of light-like flame. And he realised what the Praetorian was doing. Harking back to the memory that Gri'nyr had shown him and what Xel'khalos did to that yautja warrior of Gri'nyr's... His clan.

The Praetorian was performing a soul-drain.

And as it did, the Praetorian's carapace was reforming. Taking new life from the dying yautja's final breaths. Healing all the damage that Alaric had inflicted upon it. Bubbled carapace pulsed as dead flakes fell like ashen snow and reformed into gleaming plates like liquid metal being poured into a mould.

As Gri'nyr had said, Soul-Drain can bestow new life upon the user.

The arbitrator fell limp and lifeless as the light show abruptly ended. The Praetorian then callously flung the freshly ceased arbitrator off it's tail with a sickening squelch. Like a carton of juice sucked dry by a overly parched drinker. The body, trailing blood with it, crumpling into the deck into a heap with a cracking of the already abused ribcage. Right in front of the massed crowd and screams were heard as they saw the damage up close.

But more horrifically, aside from his butchered remains, his blackened eyes and over stretched mouth was emitting smouldering smoke. The soul drain did indeed suck every last bit of life out of him.

That was enough to make Alaric snap out of his eidetic episode.

"You got to be fucking kidding me?!" Alaric cursed.

The Praetorian roared so loud that the entire dock was resonating with a hum and some of the bystanders held their hands to their ears to try and blot it out. The Archangels were more horrified, having barely survived this bug before. The memory of it single-handedly destroying their improvised tank burned vividly in their minds. A symbol of unbeatable might. And they were certain that Alaric had killed it since he took out most of the valley in the process. The glass valley was the end result.

Yautja in the crowd began to flee from the scene or rush into ships to get out. A perfectly logical thing to do for those who were not armed or equipped to deal with a giant xenomorph in the depths of sheer aggression. A few however, the Loremaster included, could only stand dumbfounded as if in a trance.

The Archangels were not so entranced but rather completely flabbergasted.

"No fucking way!" Karl cursed.

"It can't be alive!" Hicks said, trying to deny what he was seeing. "It just can't!"

The Praetorian climbed out from it's perch in the Primarch's skull, its footfall resounding loudly in the docks. The Primarch's remains continued to emit a faint glow in the mean time. It growled lowly as it looked around the docks. Looking for something or someone.

"Well it did." Andrezj, holding his sword up. "Fucker just keeps surviving everything we throw at it."

Varlin was quick to give the order. As captain of the Karak, his priority was the safety of the ship and it's crew. Owing to the fact that only a skeleton crew had been stowing the Primarch onto the Karak, it was highly likely that the Praetorian managed to sneak on board and stowaway in it's master's remains without being detected. A mistake on his behalf.

"Seal the Karak!" Varlin commanded, keeping his weapon zeroed on the Praetorian. "Don't let it get back on board!"

Krags immediately ran back towards the Karak, shouting at any engineers in ears reach to seal the doors. Varlin was quick to aim his revolver and fired at the Praetorian's head. A blue muzzle flash, coupled with an electrostatic crack, was seen coupled with a white projectile that shot faster then the eye could see. The ferrous round impacted it's cranium in a flash of sparks as it bounced off. Not even leaving so much as a small dent.

This was obvious confirmation that this fight as not going to be easy. And the Praetorian snarled at the dwarf as it turned to him.

"Kruk!" he cursed, holstering is sidearm. "It's adapted!"

Alaric was quick to remember how he 'dispatched' the Praetorian back on the planet. Considering how he had created a glass valley as a result, he figured it may have had a similar effect on the bug when it regenerated.

And if it survived his most powerful weapon, who knows how strong it was now? Would his axes even so much as make a scratch?

"I think I hardened it's shell." Alaric quipped stepping forward and holding his free hand out. "Gonna have to do this the old fashioned way."

His discarded shield, spear and helmet glowed as the armour called to them. Within a second, both flew back to him, catching Ja'anya off guard as the shield attached to his arm, the bands extending with the rapid shifting of metal while he caught his helmet. Kal'deris was now wondering what more surprises Alaric had in store.

Krags in the meantime reached the loading ramp as it began to retract. The massive hull plates sealing in a rather quick manner then previous. Dwarves frantically ran about in the cargo hold, yelling for backup and the ancestors to save them. And the janitor was shouting at the mess being made, sprouting some very imaginative curses as he waved his mop like a mob leader's burning torch.

The Praetorian, catching sight of the suddenly flying shield and following it's flight path, then locked it's gaze on Alaric, singling him out from the crowd as Aegis shone in front of him defensively. No doubt remembering that it was he that had defeated it and then slain it's master. It roared again as it began to thunder towards him. Glowing pulses of green light surged up it's body with each pounding step. And green flame was wafting from it's maw.

It was intent on settling the score.

"This bastard doesn't give up." Alaric said, donning his helm. "Ja'anya, get of here!" Alaric ordered, pushing her aside roughly as his lenses flashed to life.

Ja'anya wasn't having any of that as she held her ground. Damn the presence of a massive Khainde Amedha if she was to leave her mate. She was not going to let their reunion be cut short, even as Aegis flapped over to her and landed on her shoulder.

"I'm not leaving you!" she said, not letting go of his arm.

Alaric, not wanting to argue about it, was about to physically break her grip on him when Kal'deris gave the word. The word of engagement.

"Arbitrators, take it down!" Kal'deris commanded. "Shoot it!"

The arbitrators aimed their plasmacasters at the Praetorian, their tri-laser sights locking on to the ancient xenomorph. The dwarves and the Archangels, especially seeing how this xenomorph took out an improvised tank and even survived Alaric's phasecasters, were quick to voice their warnings with frantic urging.

"No!" Kazrik urged, waving Forge in deterrence. "Don't engage it!"

"Don't be fucking suicidal!" Karl added.

"This is no time for a banzai charge!" Mac shouted, ironically referring to the infamous tactic from the second world war. "They never work!"

The Arbitrators paid the urgent warnings no heed. These were elite warriors, veterans of many hunts who had slain many a dangerous beast in many corners of the galaxy. And many of them had hunted Praetorians before, something of a requirement for applying to the arbitrators. So where was the danger?

Plasma bolts erupted from their plasmacasters and impacted the Praetorian's carapace, lighting it up in bright fiery flashes as the energised gas struck. The Praetorian paused mid stride, weathering the barrage as it's tail swayed in the air, almost like it was amused by this display of force. For those who knew what this xenomorph was really capable of, it was enough to highlight what the result of the fight was going to be.

The Praetorian roared loudly in a mocking gesture of pain as the plasma was merely tickling it.

The Arbitrators may have well been shooting spit wads at it. And that was reason for them, after initial shock had worn off, to retract their plasmacasters and armed their combisticks and combat mauls. These particular weapons were not hammers such as Mal'fax's but rather a heavy cutting weapon that was used like a side-handled baton used by human Colonial Marshals. And these mauls were devastating at close range, capable of cutting through armour and crushing the bones of the wearer underneath.

Suffice to say, if any perpetrator was hit by this, they were as good as captured or, if the situation demands it, executed.

And despite the dwarves' and Archangels' plea to not engage, the arbitrators charged forth. The Praetorian roared loudly as it met the challenge and stomped towards them, it's tail arcing green sparks between it's prongs. This was warning sign to those who knew what was about to happen.

"Duck!" Alaric shouted, grabbing Ja'anya and pulling her down to the deck.

The Praetorian swung it's tail and an arcing crescent of green lightning surged through the air. The Archangels swore loudly as they hit the deck while Lysandros crouched behind his shield with Cyrus ducking behind him. Kal'deris and the other yautja watching ducked too as the crescent blade of energy scythed through the air.

The arbitrators saw the crackling wave of energy surging towards them and rolled under it. However, one of them was a second too slow and the wave sliced into him through his right shoulder. A stifled yell was heard for a spilt second before he was cleft in twain from shoulder to waist and his scream cut short. The two halves tumbled into the deck, splattering blood around as green sparks danced over the dead arbitrator. The energy wave quickly dispersed into harmless fading light once it had hit a target. And before the rest of the enforcers could recover from their evasive actions, the Praetorian had closed the distance with a loud thundering roar.

The butchery had begun. And, as per the norm when it came to xenomorphs, it was not a pretty sight for even the most hardened of veterans.

And as was predicted, given previous events on the ice planet would suggest, the arbitrators stood no chance. The first swipe from the Praetorian's claws, faster then these seasoned warriors could track or even evade, proved devastating. Five of the enforcers were smashed into the air, limp as ragdolls while trailing broken armour and spraying blood from twisted limbs. One arbitrator who was lucky enough not to have gotten swatted like a fly stumbled backwards onto the deck and was now a proverbial sitting duck. The Praetorian stomped hard onto the prone arbitrator, the yautja giving off a brief scream, crushing him under it's foot with a squirting torrent of glowing green and the cracking of stone and metal.

Several arbitrators lunged in from it's flanks, taking advantage of the fact it was busy butchering their comrades. With combisticks primed and aimed for the gaps in it's carapace, they were certain that they would be able to wound the beast just like any other xenomorph royal guard. However, the mono-edged points didn't even so much as nick it's carapace, regardless of the amount of sparks they were making as the blades scraped on it's hide. And it's joints were even more armoured then before. Even the heavy cutting edges of the mauls were having no luck in cracking it's armour. The attacks were just bouncing off it's carapace in showers of sparks.

There would be no chance of crippling it. And Stonefather Kazrik was quick to let everyone know that.

"Pull them back, Elder!" Kazrik yelled at Kal'deris. "Get them out of there!"

Varlin was equally adamant in that respect as he looked up to Kal'deris with concern. Especially when another swipe resulted in two more dead arbitrators, sliced apart in a shower of green. Ja'anya shielded her eyes in Alaric's arm when the body parts hit the deck.

"Elder, your warriors are woefully unprepared." he bluntly pointed out. "Call them back before they all die!"

But, in truth, the arbitrators were in no position to withdraw. Not without extreme casualties at least and those who were still standing were hard-pressed just to keep out of reach of the Praetorian's claws. Another scream was heard, only to be drowned out by a roar from the Praetorian before acid flame engulfed the next victim who was too slow to get out of the way. The arbitrator maintained structural integrity for a few seconds before he was burned right down to the bone. And before the flames even so much as dimmed, the blackened bones and armour-turned-slag collapsed into fine black ash and sludge.

The unpleasant memory of the Praetorian incinerating their tank resurfaced in the Archangels' minds. When they saw that marine crewman scramble out of the rapidly corroding vehicle before dispersing to dust.

The Archangels, knowing that this was beyond their capacity to assist, backed off at a rapid pace. They kept their swords up and not taking their eyes of the Praetorian that was butchering the Arbitrators. Lysandros on the other hand stepped forward a pace as he assessed what he was seeing.

Suffice to say, the old spartan was not impressed with the resistance that the arbitrators was putting up. Even with the advantage of numbers, they were not utilising it to their advantage. They just kept charging at the ancient bug at the wrong moments. And the fact that these were supposed to be the elite of the yautja made it even more insulting to the spartan.

"Yautja." he said with hidden disdain. "Hunters could never stand up to a proper fight."

Having watched his fill of this slaughter, Lysandros motioned Cyrus to approach before he began to plan a course of attack. No doubt one that would have a better result then the arbitrators' brave but futile charge.

Kal'deris, choosing this moment to intervene personally, hurled his smart disks at the Praetorian and the spinning blades singing through the air. He hoped that he would be able to at least distract the Praetorian to allow the arbitrators, or what was left of them, to withdraw. The disks struck the Praetorian's crown is flashes of sparks and flakes of chitin. But they failed to do any meaningful damage as they glanced off the Praetorian's carapace hide.

The disks continued to arc through the air, humming loudly and strike at the bug ineffectively in flashes. Considering these as nothing but an annoying distraction, like flies waiting to be squashed, the Praetorian smashed them out of the air in explosions of sparks and buckled metal that peppered the deck. Kal'deris grunted in shock and frustration at the loss of more of his disks. And it did little to draw the Praetorian from its wholesale slaughter of the arbitrators.

Alaric knew that the elder's weaponry, and as a matter of fact all yautja weaponry, would be useless at this stage. The Praetorian's hide was just too impervious to damage by mundane means. He would need something more suited to the task. Alaric quickly moved up towards Kal'deris to provide him with such a weapon.

"Elder, take it." Alaric urged, unfurling his cloak and revealing the kopis' hilt on his hip.

Kal'deris, noticing the hidden weapon, reached for the blade, drawing the sword out of it's scabbard with a song of metal. But he hardly had time to admire the workmanship before Alaric pushed Ja'anya to him. Aegis then landed on Kal'deris' shoulder nearly making him jump from having a silver hawk suddenly appear in front of him.

"Keep her safe." Alaric ordered to the hawk, before rushing to the front.

Ja'anya wanted to rush after him but Kal'deris kept a firm grip on her arm. She looked up to him to see him shaking her head in stern refusal.

"Ja'anya, there's nothing you can do." He firmly stated. "You'll just get in the way."

With that, Ja'anya could only watch as Alaric strode towards the Praetorian. She was only distracted when Aegis leant down to gently peck her on the arm. Looking back at the hawk, she saw Aegis' shining eyes looking to her. It was a look of reassurance, Ja'anya could sense. That Alaric would be alright.

But it did little to calm her nerves.

Lysandros gave a war cry out in ancient greek before following Alaric with Cyrus bringing up the rear. Stonefather Kazrik grumbled loudly as he reached to his circlet. Pressing a finger on the diamond on his brow, the piece of ceremonial attire began to glow around the edges and hidden runes in the band were revealed. Then the rapid shifting of metal was heard as extra plates suddenly grew out of the circlet and extended down Kazrik's face. Within seconds, a runic mask had formed with the stonefather's eyes shining from the eye slits. But rather then the usual grim face common on Khazdryn art, this was a more impartial look to denote his position as a spiritual advisor.

It appeared his headdress was more then just a decorative badge of office. It was a functional piece of armour when events call for it.

Stonefather Kazrik, looked up at the high priestess to see her almost gawking at his sudden and almost divine addition before giving her a knowing wink. And with that, he charged after the three spartans, hefting Forge over his shoulder as the staff's anvil head began to glow.

"They're going to get killed!" Ja'anya protested.

Varlin on the other hand had gotten his pipe out and was smoking it nonchalantly as he approached her. It was a sudden change of demeanour from his reaction to the Praetorian's earlier butchery of the arbitrators.

"Don't worry, young lass. Lysandros knows what he's doing." Varlin assured, blowing a steady stream of smoke from his mouth. "This isn't first one he and Cyrus killed. Your significant other is in good hands."

Ja'anya was somewhat comforted by the thane's words of assurance. The mention of the other spartans being experienced in fighting this kind of khainde amedha was a good sign. But, she could only watch as her lover and the other humans engaged the Praetorian.

Her prayers for Alaric's safety held up so far. She could only hope the gods would continue to watch over them.

The three spartans charged into the slaughtering ground as mangled arbitrators hobbled in retreat. Alaric smacked Spellbreaker on his shield loudly to get the Praetorian's attention away from the fleeing yautja. The Praetorian however was fixated on one straggler who was desperately trying to crawl away. Having both legs broken was a serious impediment to self-preservation.

To the Praetorian, this was easy pickings as it raised it's claws. The older spartan on the other hand saw an opportunity.

Gunning past Alaric, Lysandros skidded into the fray, his boots sparking against the deck. Holding his shield up to block the incoming claw, he stopped in front of the prone arbitrator ready to take the hit. The Praetorian's claw impact the shield and an eruption of blue sparks was seen as the phase-shields activated. The resulting backlash of kinetic energy caused the Praetorian's arm to be knocked back, giving Lysandros time to get the wounded arbitrator to safety. In a rather straightforward manner.

"MOVE!" Lysandros ordered, planting his boot against the yautja's chest.

With a forceful kick, assisted by his armour, the wounded arbitrator was sent sliding back from the fight and to safety, leaving a slick of his own blood behind and nearly bowling over another hobbling arbitrator. The Praetorian recovered from it's rebound and lunged in with it's other claw to gut the old spartan. Lysandros rolled out of the way, the massive talons biting into the stone next to him in a shower of sparks and dust. He then held his shield up over his head as if to block the next attack. Or in this case, to launch an attack of his own.

Cyrus sprinted hard, planting a boot onto his grandfather's shield and using it as a springboard jumped as Lysandros pushed. The young spartan flew through the air, spear out as he aimed right for the Praetorian's head. The Praetorian bowed it's head to block the incoming attack. Despite the young spartan's aim being true, the domed surface succeeded in deflecting the thrust in a shower of blue sparks.

Cyrus arced through the air, rolling fluidly as he hit the deck. Rolling to his feet, he kept his eyes on the Praetorian as it turned to him. The strike left only the barest of nicks across the Praetorian's sheild-like crest. But, aside from being the only significant damage inflicted on it, it was enough to divert it's attention to the young spartan. Cyrus flourished his spear and held it at the ready as the Praetorian towered over him.

Ly'enta eyes widened by this acrobatic feat.

Kazrik took this distraction to push the retreating arbitrators on, getting them out of the kill zone. Those who had not been crushed, disembowelled or eviscerated that is. Any of the wounded who were not beyond the threshold of death was dragged with them. But out of the twenty arbitrators who charged in, only a scant three were left standing. Another four were wounded to a point that they could not move on their own and the rest were simply dead either by being torn apart by the Praetorian's claws or crushed under it's feet.

The Praetorian, with tail poised to strike the young spartan, at that point heard the banging of weapon upon shield. It turned to the source and it paused notably as it caught sight of the wielder. Alaric ceased the banging and pointed Spellbreaker at the Praetorian as he got it's attention, his visor retracting so he could fix it with his ruby eyes.

"Hey, Bug." he greeted with subtle hostility. "Remember me?"

The Praetorian hissed at him as it turned to him, it's tail swaying in the air and arcing power between it's prongs. It most certainly did remember him. Alaric smirked as he nodded in recognition of the Praetorian's displeasure.

"Good, because this is the last time we meet." Alaric said, hefting up Spellbreaker as his visor sealed. "And you're not regenerating after we're finished with you." he declared.

The Praetorian growled as if it was welcoming their challenge. The more targets it can kill, the better. They would be the only real resistance it was ever going to face on Lai'kairis.

Alaric walked up to Lysandros who still had his spear aimed at the Praetorian. The old spartan was not taking his eyes off the xenomorph with hawk-like vigil.

"What are our chances?" Alaric asked him.

The old spartan gave him a quick glance in recognition before keeping his sights on the Praetorian. Already, the old spartan was devising a strategy to overcome this persistent threat. And he had decades of experience to draw upon.

"Keep it distracted with attacks on all sides. Strike hard and pull back, whittle it down bit by bit and go in for the kill." Lysandros informed. "Stay out of it's reach and don't bunch up."

Much like a support gunner, Alaric thought as he made a modern comparison. Five soldiers bunched up is a gunner's opportunity whereas one soldier on his own is a waste of ammo.

And it was a mistake that the arbitrators had made.

But now they had a plan. Like a wolf pack taking down a bear, they would attack from multiple sides with hit and run tactics, wear it down and then finish it off. And with their more superior gear and weaponry then the arbitrators, they should have no problem in fulfilling the atrategy.

Alaric nodded at the older spartan's advice, no doubt learned from decades of combating these xenomorphs. Kazrik at that moment appeared next to Alaric. He had a concerned glimmer to his eyes behind his mask.

"My lord." he greeted before pointing to the Praetorian with urgency. "We don't have much time."

"I know." Alaric said, understanding what Kazrik was talking about.

The Primarch's last words resurfaced in his mind. Words that carried both warning and a sense of victory in the long run. Even after its own demise by Alaric's aethyric empowered axe.

"My death will amount to nothing." it had said before he delivered the killing blow. "You have already lost!"

And he also remembered what Gri'nyr had told him. That if the Primarch was killed, it's soul would simply find another host connected by the hive mind. Indeed, with xenomorphs of the present time, if the queen of a hive was killed, one of the praetorians would metamorphose into a new queen to take her place. Other times, a clash of hierarchy would engage if multiple candidates were present. The strongest wins and the weak perish.

Alaric knew that it was only a matter of time before the Primarch would resurface. And if it did, it would be unlikely that he would be able to kill it again. Not inside Lai'kairis where he would not be able to use his phasecasters to full effect. Not even the Karak would be able to use it's main guns without destroying the docks, and potentially Lai'kairis, in the process. And if could not be stopped, Lai'akiris and every living things on it would be the foundation of a new hive.

"Then we need to gut this bastard before it comes back." Alaric concluded, signalling the advance with his axe.

Alaric, Kazrik, Lysandros and Cyrus circled around the Praetorian, keeping their distance and having their weapons raised. Alaric hefted Spellbreaker in his one hand, grabbing it's haft in the centre for for manoeuvrability, with his shield up as Forge glowed in Kazrik's grasp. Lysandros kept his spear trained on the Praetorian, resting the haft on his shield's rim and waiting for an opening to appear as his grandson kept his spear poised.

The Praetorian kept the three spartans and the dwarf priest in it's sights. It's trident tail buzzed with arcs of bio-lightning as the humans cautiously circled it. It was smart enough to know that, considering the armour and weapons they wielded, they would be a far greater threat then the arbitrators it had massacred. The remnants of which were being hauled away by their still able comrades. They would be taken to the medical caste's healing halls.

But it did not matter to the Praetorian. Everyone on this clan ship will die by it's hand.

However, just as Lysandros was going in for the first strike, raising his spear and bending for the leap, and the Praetorian lowering its massive head to meet him head on, another contender emerged.

"What the fuck is going on!?" a resonant gravely voice demanded. "As if I haven't got enough shit to worry about!"

The Praetorian paused in mid stride as it heard that demand. Lysandros lowered his spear and cursed in ancient greek as a late combatant to the fight had just arrived.

Thundering footsteps were heard as the lumbering masonry form of the golem Igneous came thumping down the ramp of the now open smaller door. But as soon as he cleared, the door swiftly sealed again. He was carrying a large metal crate with him under one arm that looked like his previous assignment until being called down.

This was another unexpected sight for the yautja. A walking eight foot statue carved in the likeness of a disgruntled dwarf warrior and decorated with glowing runes of a language they did not recognise.

Igneous had his usual grimace of displeasure when he saw the Praetorian looking at him. He seemed to have assumed that the bug was already dead to begin with. Or at the very least freshly killed.

"Weren't you suppose to have killed that bastard?" Igneous asked, pointing at the Praetorian. "You're getting slow, Lysandros."

One of the Archangels wasted no time in responding to Igneous' jibe. Lysandros only gave the golem a scowl as he stepped back.

"You fucking try it then!" Sergei dared, pointing a finger at the Praetorian. "Maybe you can gripe to death!"

Igneous turned and looked at the russian with his typical scowl. Sergei just scowled at him back as the golem huffed and his block shoulders slumped in resignation. Looks like he will not be getting back to work any time soon.

"Manlings!" Igneous grunted before stomping towards the Praetorian and pointing a stony finger. "Oi! Over here, you gnat!"

The Praetorian growled loudly at Igneous in recognition. Igneous walked towards it, pausing by the Archangels for a moment as he dumped the crate onto the deck. The crate smashed open and the contents were revealed. Inside was an assortment of gauss weaponry, mostly rifles with the addition of the Khazdryn equivalent of a smartgun. The Archangels, seeing the massive tactical advantage in front of them, wasted no time in grabbing the newly delivered weapons and loading up.

"Count yourselves lucky I was restocking the armoury." Igneous muttered to them as he walked off. "Not like you're going to use them."

"If you do your job, we won't." Sergei called after him, slamming a magazine into his gauss rifle.

As the Archangels went about arming themselves, Lysandros walked out of the intended warpath, followed by Cyrus. Alaric however moved back towards Ja'anya and Kal'deris while Kazrik walked back to the High Priestess. Varlin nodded to him as he approached before pointing to Igneous with his pipe.

"You might want to keep your distance, my lord." he warned. "This could get a little rough."

The clash of the titans was about to begin. Igneous thundered towards the Praetorian as the xenomorph strode towards him.

"I'm going to smash that grin off!" Igneous roared.

The Praetorian answered his challenge with a loud roar as it pounced towards him. Igneous let out a roar of his own as he thundered on to meet it head on.

The Golem held his arms out as the Praetorian slammed into him. The impact was forceful enough to make the construct shift back a few feet. Then Igneous dug his feet into the deck, his weight causing the stone and metal panelling to creak and crack before skidding to a halt. He then began to push against the Praetorian and began to regain some ground. With a forceful shove, Igneous pushed the Praetorian off him before he swung a fist out at it.

It was a fight that would have made a legendary animator, known for his fantasy monsters, proud.

Lysandros watched as the golem and xenomorph vied for supremacy in their match of strength. He grunted in repressed satisfaction as Igneous fought the Praetorian.

"Nice to see him actually do some work instead of complaining for once." Lysandros muttered before he suppressed a hard cough into his shield.

Cyrus looked to his grandfather as the fight erupted into a frenzied bout of grappling and close range pummelling. He noticed, much to his concern, that the inside of Lysandros' shield was sprayed with a light red mist. And his greying beard had a thin red tinge below his mouth.

"Grandfather." Cyrus said softly placing a hand on Lysandros' shoulder.

Lysandros shook him off sternly before wiping his mouth and beard. Cyrus stood still for a moment before he lowered his hand. Lysandros turned to him with a slight smile.

"I'm fine." he curtly assured with a rasp to his grandson. "I've suffered worst, believe me."

That assurance did little to calm the young spartan's concern. He knew that his grandfather had something wrong with him. But, like any good spartan, he showed no sign of any discomfort aside from the coughs. More so for a spartan who was well past retiring age.

Cryus' thoughts were brought back to the present when Igneous suddenly gained the upper hand ion his clash of the titans.

Igneous managed to grab hold of the Praetorian's neck before winding back his free fist. With the force of an ancient warship ramming into another, the golem punched the Praetorian in the face with a loud chitin cracking strike that sent a hail of chitinous splinters and a few streaks of acid from loose teeth. The impact was jarring enough to make the Praetorian lose it's grip on the golem but it was quick to strike back as it's trident tail lashed out. The carapace blades sparked on Igneous' side as the golem grabbed the bladed appendage. With a grumbling grunt of exertion, Igneous twisted in place and pulled the Praetorian's tail, making the the xenomorph lose it's footing. With another heave, the golem hurled the Praetorian over his shoulder, the xenomorph arcing in a fluid curve where it landed face first into the deck in front of Igneous.

The Praetorian, using it's forward momentum, pushed itself off the floor as Igneous stomped down at it. The Praetorian rolled out of the way as Igneous' foot impacted the deck with a loud crack, spreading a spider's web of cracks spreading from the impact. It's tail lashed out again, this time catching Igneous in the shoulder. The trident tail glanced off the stone pauldron, protecting Igneous' face even as sparks and dust flew in the air.

The clash between xenomorph and construct was loud and brutal. Impacts from blows resounded loudly throughout the docks, be it stone impacting carapace or talons scraping against rock. It was an asymmetrical fight. The Praetorian was faster and more agile while Igneous was more ponderous but better able to withstand damage and dish it. But, blows did continue to rain down on the combatants as opportunity showed itself.

But a mistimed lunge from Igneous shifted the scales considerably as the Praetorian got inside his defences and struck faster then the golem could react. And in a very sensitive region.

Igneous had taken a rather fierce swipe from the Praetorian's claws, the talons racking across the left side of his rock face in a flash of fierce sparks and plumes of dust. Igneous even recoiled from the force of the attack as he drove his elbow into the Praetorian's chin with a loud crack. He held a massive hand to his face as a strange silvery and blue glowing substance began to trickle from between his stony fingers. The Praetorian recoiled from the counter-attack, regaining it's balance a few meters from the golem.

Varlin had bit his pipe in a grimace of discomfort as Igneous lowered his dripping hand. Pretty much everyone else watching could only flinch as the golem was almost sliced open. And the sight was graphic to those who had suffered a swipe from xenomorph talons and lived to tell about it.

The Golem had a row of deep gouges cut into his face, just missing his eye and seeping with the mystery liquid. His eye also seemed to be somewhat 'bloodshot' as a result of some kind of energy discharge from the damage sustained. And this substance, that was seeping from his wounds, burning like lava, looked and even had the same consistency as blood.

It would appear that even a stone construct could bleed.

Igneous felt his face, running his fingers into the newly acquired grooves as the trickling began to slow into a steady drip. And that was a contributing factor for the golem to get incredibly pissed.

"That's going to scar, you bastard!" Igneous fumed.

The Praetorian roared loudly in recognition of it's deed before it leaped further away from him. Goading him into coming after it.

Without knowing it or even caring, Igneous was forgetting an important rule. And that was to never fight out of anger, one of the most easily exploited emotions in a fight. Unless one knew how to control it, anger causes one to lose focus on the bigger picture and become single minded. That often led them into making mistakes without realising it.

And Igneous' mistake was to launch an all or nothing charge at the Praetorian. To which it had a perfect counter.

The Praetorian roared loudly as green lightning wreathed with flame gathered in it's maw. Igneous charged at the Praetorian, thundering like an avalanche cascading down a mountain. Then, in an overly dramatic manner, Igneous actually jumped at the Praetorian for some added impact to the punch.

And that was when the Praetorian unleashed it's attack. With a loud thunderous surge of eldritch power, the Praetorian shot the crackling ball from it's mall when Igneous had left the ground. Igneous could only shout out a cry of alarm.

By cry, the key word being used was 'KRUK!'.

The ball of crackling fiery energy impacted the golem square in the chest before detonating in a conflagration of green flame and lightning. Igneous was blasted back as green flame and lightning arced over his stone hide, crashing into a parked transport with a thunderous impact, erupting sparks and metallic screeching of stressed metal. His stony bulk had no trouble in punching into the hull, stretching the metal plating way past it's tensile strength like a meteor hurtling through space. And, of course to make it more interesting, he impacted the rear engine block and fuel tanks. The transport detonated in a massive explosion of flame and flying metal shrapnel.

And the ragged metal rain trailing flame and smoke was indiscriminate as to who it as flying towards.

"Incoming!" Andrzej yelled.

Alaric held up his shield, pulling Ja'anya close as a ragged panel of metal struck with a loud clang and bounced of as the phase-sheild engaged. Aegis shot out, his plumage flaring brightly as he impacted another panel, punching through and disintegrating it into glowing dust. All around, everyone was rushing to get out of the way of the raining scrap yard hurtling at them. Varlin, on the other hand, casually smoked his pipe as he stepped out of the way of a large warped panel that clanged on the floor where he had been standing.

For someone with miner's blood in his veins, rockfalls and other plummeting objects were almost second nature.

Kazrik slammed Forge's pommel in the deck as a large structural girder arced towards him, the High Priestess and Ly'enta. With a thought, the anvil head flash brightly as a shimmering field of aethyric energy surged out from Forge, enveloping the three of them in a dome of interconnected plates. Like a metal wall had suddenly materialised out of thin air. The wreckage struck the energy shield, causing sparks to erupt as they bounced off.

Like he had said to Alaric, a shield to defend.

The High Priestess was quick to thank the gods for this divine intervention as another fragment of starhip impacted the shield. Kazrik's mask flickered as he concentrated on maintaining the shield. But after a few seconds of frenzied yells and dodging flaming ragged death, the razor rain died out.

All around the docks as everyone gathered their thoughts, there was flaming wreckage everywhere. And there was only a battered space frame with the the most minimal of its hull plating left. As was indicated, the full brunt of the explosion was in it's rear engine block so the prow was still more or less intact. Much like a fish that had been gutted and filleted off the bone.

When the sparks and green flames died out and everyone had regained their composure among the flaming wreckage, a charred golem was seen lodged within the remnants of the ship like a fly trapped in a spider's web. His ornamentation was dimly glowing, a sure sign of Igneous was losing grasp on consciousness. Being smashed into something hard and explosive had that effect.

Alaric lowered his shield and shook his head as Aegis landed back on his shoulder. Ja'anya slowly pulled her head from his shoulder and saw the devastation with her own eyes. She spoke lowly but Alaric caught her words: Fuck me!

"That had to hurt." Alaric remarked.

Varlin groaned into his hand as the Archangels responded with a mixture of disappointment and sardonic humour as Igneous began the laborious task of extricating himself from the wrecked ship. But, on the plus side, he did recover quickly enough.

And fortunately, the Praetorian was not going to finish him off any time soon. Rather it seemed to be taking pleasure in seeing Igneous struggle to free himself from his metal prison.

"You had ONE job!" Sergei shouted at the stumbling golem.

"Saitsev, you're not helping." Andrzej mildly scolded.

Varlin shrugged from the Archangel's outburst as he smoked his pipe. He was most likely thinking the same thing. Igneous did have one job that he could not possibly fumble and he did.

Lysandros and Cyrus shook their heads as a loud metallic whine was heard as warped metal scraped on abused stone. It seemed that Lysandros found some satisfaction in the golem's defeat as he gave a low chuckle.

After much demeaning struggling, Igneous popped out of the wrecked transport ship before falling to his knees with a dense clatter of stone and a slight rumbling of the deck. Twisted panelling, bent girders and remnants of internal circuitry and décor followed him. shaking his head as glowing blood, lumpy with flecks of stone dripped to the floor, Igneous stood up.

Suffice to say, he had his stony ass handed to him.

"I am badly out of practice." he muttered as he got to his feet. "Lysandros, you better have this one." he conceded as he shuffled off to regain his dignity.

The old spartan nodded in overdue patience before resuming his attention to the Praetorian. It had been centuries since he had been in battle and he needed to check if he was still in prime condition.

"I got this beast." Lysandros declared, hefting his spear. "Stand back."

Alaric however stepped forward, striking Spellbreaker into the deck. The edge bit into the deck like a knife cutting through cheese with a sharp slicing of stone. Lysandros looked at Alaric to see him not taking his eyes off the Praetorian. Kal'deris was quick to hold onto Ja'anya as she tried to follow Alaric.

"No." Alaric said firmly, walking forward and hefting Spellbreaker on his shoulder. "It's my mistake and I should be the one to solve it." He looked into the highly diminished crowed and noticed Hy'dorles standing out. "Besides, I have critics to silence." he reminded.

He then looked to Ja'anya who was now firmly in Kal'deris' grasp.

"Stay here." he ordered. "This can get ugly." He then looked Aegis on his shoulder. "Keep her safe." he commanded.

The shield hawk nodded and hopped off his shoulder before gliding over to Ja'anya and landing on her shoulder.

And with that, Alaric walked out towards the Praetorian, his mind set of finishing this persistent xenomorph once and for all. The Praetorian was no doubt in the same frame of mind, intent on killing this human personally.

The Praetorian gave out a loud roar as it charged towards Alaric. Alaric charged head on, Spellbreaker digging into the deck and creating a massive cascading trail of sparks as he moved.

Right before they would have collided, Alaric hefted Spellbreaker up, the sparks ceased as he spun in place. His shield glowed before it detached from his arm and spun towards the Praetorian. The shield spun faster then the eye could track and struck the Praetorian in the chest with a loud flash and a crack. But, it did nothing to slow the massive xenomorph's advance as the shield bounced off it's carapace. It then smacked the momentarily halted shield aside and it skidded on the deck towards the Archangels. It then hit a jutting chunk of stone protruding from the deck and flipped into the air.

Andrzej, as his squad vacated the premises hastily to avoid the incoming piece of armour, was quick catch the shield as it flew towards them and was promptly floored by the hunk of metal. His squad were quick to compliment his catching skills as the captain heaved the shield off him.

But, this shedding of vital protection served as a means of distraction that allowed Alaric to slide under the Praetorian and bring Spellbreaker to one knee. The axe struck the xenomorph with a bright flash that caused it to buckle as Alaric slid to his feet. The Praetorian turned on it's heels, lasing out with it's claws and tail in a simultaneous strike. Alaric dodged the twin attack with a timely roll before getting to his feet and hefting Spellbreaker as the Praetorian reared on him.

That attack did not penetrate the armour as Alaric would have wanted but he knew that kinetic impact was still getting through. He was able to at least knock the bug about and hopefully get a window of opportunity.

Alaric dodged the claws and parried the trident tail with Spellbreaker before spinning on his heels and swinging Spellbreaker once more. The Praetorian dodged the swing as the blade whistled through the air.

The exchange happened with quickening ferocity as the Praetorian upped the ante on it's attacks. Alaric was pushing himself harder to parry and dodge the attacks before he had an opening to strike back. His armour was giving him the edge as it enhanced his speed and strength, allowing to evade and inflict damage.

For Ja'anya it was simply amazing to see her lover fight this xenomorph of legend. The way he moved was like watching the Lord of Hunters himself made manifest. Albeit wielding an axe instead of a spear. But she had to wonder whether it was actually him fight or the armour. It was almost to hard to tell. The armour was like his own skin.

Both were moving at a blur as their movements were going faster then anyone's eyes could track.

When Alaric landed another more forceful blow onto the Praetorian's knee the force was enough to make it stumble before he back swinging the flat of Spellbreaker's head into it's face. The jarring crack of splintering carapace and shattered teeth was heard as the Praetorian buckled under the impact. It was quick to recover as it lashed out with it's free leg, catching Alaric in the gut and sending him flying back.

Alaric arced through the air, flipping over before landing on his feet. Skidding for a few metres with sparks flaring from his boots, Alaric aimed one of his phase casters and fired a pulse beam. The shot glanced off the Praetorian's carapace, the beam actually bending as it charged after him. Alaric responded by pivoting both phasecasters downwards behind his back and firing both jets. With a surge of accelerated particles and a strong push of both legs, Alaric was catapulted forwards with blinding speed as he pulled Spellbreaker back.

The Praetorian met his charge head on as they impacted with one another. Alaric brought Spellbreak down hard onto the Praetorian's head but, aside from generating a stupendous amount of blue sparks and flying flecks of chitin, failed to penetrate the cranial armour. As Alaric rolled with the cut, he was bounced up with a buck from the Praetorian's head. But as he rolled behind the Praetorian, he aimed both phasecasters right at the xenomorph's back and fired. Not only was he sent rocketing away from the Praetorian but he had managed to blast the Praetorian off it's feet.

The Archangels let out a collective groan of dismay. So close.

The xenomorph crashed into the floor as Alaric landed on his feet and skidded around. Instantly, he charged forth to strike while it was momentarily incapacitated. The Praetorian lashed out with it's tail, crackling with green power, sending out a bolt of lightning at him. Alaric narrowly dodged that attack with a twisting flip, feeling dancing arcs rake across his armour as the bolt missed by an inch.

Faster then Alaric could recover, the Praetorian lunged at him. Hitting it's crest, Alaric was sent rebounding up and over it. And then it's tail lashed out again, hitting Alaric in the chest with a shower of sparks and sending him sprawling through the air. Alaric struck the ground hard enough to crack stone and bend metal, and also to make anyone watching wince. Spellbreaker flew out of his hand clattering to the deck next to him.

The Praetorian opened it's maw and Alaric could see that green flame was brewing inside it's throat. At this close range he would not be able to evade the flames in time. But he did have enough time to quickly grab Spellbreaker either.

The green flames engulfed Alaric in a bright green conflagration. Ja'anya was going to scream but she noticed that Aegis was calm as his diamond eyes looked to her. The shieldhawk then cocked his head in a gesture of nonchalantness. Suggesting that this sort of thing happened to Alaric before.

And he was proven right.

A hand axe was seen flying out of the green flames, trailing a fine chain behind it. The axe's armour piercing spike struck the Praetorian in the chest with solid crack as it punched into the carapace. Then, with a loud whirr of friction, Alaric can shooting out of the flames, leg stretched out and retracting the chain back to his wrists as he flew. Faster then anyone could blink, Alaric reeled himself in and kicked the Praetorian dead centre in the teeth.

With the added momentum, Alaric had no problem in punching more teeth out with a loud shattering crack like expensive glass being dropped. As he zipped past, Alaric wrenched his axe out from the Praetorian's crest and landed with a long skid as the Praetorian reeled from more impromptu dental work. Shaking it's head and sending teeth fragments scattering at it's feet, it turned back to Alaric and roared loudly from it's now comically broken mouth.

That provoked cheers from his squad and Ja'anya smiled in relief. Even Lysandros had to nod in compliment.

Alaric panted loudly as he got back up on his feet, holding a hand out and Spellbreaker flew back into his grasp. This fight was taking everything he had and, so far, he was not inflicting much damage to it's actual body. But he was succeeding in cosmetically disfiguring it. But that wasn't enough. He could not fight it forever. He had to kill it here and now.

The Praetorian was likely thinking the same thing. Alaric was proving to be more trouble then it had been given him credit for. If anything, he was more persistent then those it had fought thousands of years ago.

Steeling himself, Alaric charged once more into the fray as the Praetorian charged back. Spellbreaker arced through the air, making sparks as it contacted carapace. And claws and tail scraped against ancient armour.

But eventually, the Praetorian gained the upper hand when it sent Spellbreaker flying out of Alaric's grasp. The axe spun rapidly in the air, trailing a stream of light like a pinwheel firework before it landed blade first into the deck.

"Fuck!" Alaric cursed, reaching for his hand axe as the Praetorian loomed over him

But before he could draw them, the Praetorian grabbed Alaric around the torso, pinning his arms to his sides in its grip. Alaric tried to break out of it's grip but even with the armour enhancing his strength he could not get his arms free. The Praetorian had grown too strong even for that.

With victory now literally within its grasp, it was going to enjoy every second of Alaric's demise.

Hefting him up in it's claws, it smashed Alaric into the decking repeatedly. Each impact creating a small shower of dust, splintered stone and sparks from striking metal. Alaric yelled out in pain as he felt his body crumple with every impact. Even though this armour was able to withstand even the Primarch's flame, the sheer kinetic impact was rocking his bones out of place. He was lucky that the armour was preventing his neck and spine from snapping like dry twigs.

It was almost like the bug was tenderising him.

The Archangels were wincing with every bone jarring impact, dreading for the inevitable sound of Alaric's skeleton comepletely collapsing.

"He's getting creamed!" Karl exclaimed.

Ja'anya was flinching with each impact and even Kal'deris was mortified at this abuse being dished onto Alaric. In fact everyone watching was horrified at this brutality unfolding before them

"Someone help him!" Ja'anya pleaded. "It's killing him!"

In truth, no one could help him now.

By now, Alaric was limp and almost lifeless as his arms flapped around with each impact. The glowing lenses of his helmet were flickering and his armour was beginning to power down.

Stonefather Kazrik banged Forge's pommel in desperation as the Praetorian hefted Alaric up from the crater that he was used to dig. And going to deliver the final blow with the infamous headbite as it brought him to it's mouth. And there was no way that Alaric's armour could withstand such a concentrated attack.

Headbites were notorious for penetrating hardened armour. Even the use of extra armour plates of helmets was purely for psychological reasons.

"NO!" Varlin said, biting hard into his pipes stem in dismay. "The bloodline mustn't die now!"

"My Lord!" Kazrik urged.

And in Ja'anya's mind, her nightmares were resurfacing.

Alaric's head had now disappeared into the Praetorians maw as it began to slowly clench it's jaw to lock him in before the kill. But then, Alaric at that point suddenly managed to get his arms free from the Praetorian's vice-like grip and, perhaps suicidally, grabbed it by the jaw. Like he was fixing himself in place.

And it was there that Alaric sprung his little trap.

"BITE THIS!" Alaric shouted before the decoration of his helmet flashed.

And on that cue, the armour changed again. This time, with the metallic screech of alloy against carapace, the horsehair crest turned into a massive serrated blade that sliced right through the Praetorian's head. The massive bug screeched in sudden and rightly unexpected agony as the tip of the crest blade punched through it's forehead.

A sudden unpredictable and rather unorthodox change of armour.

Those watching could not help but recoil in teeth clenched wincing as the Praetorian received a literal splitting headache. Varlin choked on his pipe, smoke sputtering out from his beard as Ja'anya and Kal'deris exclaimed in stunned surprise. Stonefather Kazrik gave out a choice sentence in Khazdryn while the High Priestess thanked the gods for this sudden divine intervention.

Acid blood streamed from the Praetorian's punctured head, drenching Alaric in sizzling ichor. But the armour was protecting him from being dissolved into sludge. The Praetorian thrashed it's head around, trying to dislodge Alaric and all the while spraying acid everywhere. Those watching had to make a several hasty steps aside as the corrosive rain splattered around. Lysandros and Cyrus simply weathered the acid rain, protected by their armour.

"What's the matter?" Alaric taunted as he held on tight to it's jaw. "Got a razor down your throat?!"

As the Praetorian flailed it's head to try and dislodge Alaric, it was appearing to grow more desperate. But this was the first time that the Praetorian had sustained such crippling damage since it's regeneration. And that was a cause for some celebration among the Archangels.

Alaric's creative means of dealing damage to the enemy never ceased to amaze. His 'chestbursting' out of the Primarch resurfaced in their minds. And now he had done something akin to the infamous headbite to the Praetorian. Was he going to try and impale it on it's own tail next?

"Way to use your head, Alaric!" Andrzej shouted in support as his squad cheered loudly.

With a final shaking of the head, Alaric came free with a loud sickening slicing of flesh. Alaric rolled on the decking, his helmet's crest turning back into harmless hair analogue as he trailed acid on his armour. The Praetorian shook it's head, spreading more sizzling ichor around as Alaric got to his feet.

But again, despite the crippling damage to it's head, the Praetorian was still alive. At most, Alaric's trap seemed to have given it a literal splitting headache. Minimal considering it was weathering everything being thrown at it and beyond. But, that gave Alaric more impetus to continue the dishing out the pain.

Alaric threw one of his hand axes at the Praetorian, the chain whirring loudly as the weapon soared through the air. The armour piercing spike punched into the side of its head, locking into place and giving Alaric a purchase point. With a forceful tug, his armoured arm flashing with power, Alaric heaved on the chain with a yell of exertion. The Praetorian roared loudly as it pulled back against him before it lost it's footing on it's own blood and fell face first into the deck with a resounding crack.

Another wrench of the hand tore the axe out from it's head, drawing a green trail and rapidly winching back to his hand. He summoned Spellbreaker with his free hand and swiftly holstering his hand axe as the great axe landed in his grasp. The Praetorian reared its severely bleeding head and shot out a gout of flame from it's maw. Alaric charged forwards, greaves flaring and with a yell on his lips as the flames engulfed him.

Then from the flames, Alaric emerged from the inferno, brandishing Spellbreaker above his head. Green flame licked his armoured body, giving him an almost supernatural look about him. Spellbreaker held high was glowing with the intensity of a contained sun. And the lenses of his helmet glowed and the irises narrowed as he focussed on his target.

And this time, Alaric was at the key point. Inside the Praetorian's defences as the xenomorph reared up.

Alaric roared out loud as he swung Spellbreaker with all the force that he and his armour could muster. The axe, runes glowing and energy humming a bright arc of power like a comet through the sky, struck home into the Praetorian's shoulder between left arm and neck with a bright flash of sparks, biting deep into it's armoured hide. The Praetorian roared as acid blood, splinters of carapace and aethyric energy sparked from the weapon's path through it torso, severing muscles, tendons and bones.

The Archangels gave out a loud cheer at the sight of Alaric finally carving through the Praetorian. Kra'vyx and his friends joined in when the sound of a cleft collarbone was heard and the flying sparks intensified.

Varlin and Kazrik let out a Khazdryn cheer of good fortune. Even Igneous had to nod his mauled head in praise. Which coming from the golem was really saying something.

Ja'anya's eyes glittered and a smile crept on her face at the sight of her mate claiming another trophy. And she was here to actually see it happen.

Alaric's armour glow intensified as he pushed more power into the cut. Spellbreaker's runes flashed as the deluge of sparks intensified. He could feel the Praetorian's body resisting him for every millimetre he cut through. Carapace was growing and hardening around Spellbreaker's edges, forming a hard diamond-like coating to prevent the axe from cleaving any further.

He needed more power.

With a thought, the phasecasters pivoted out and their barrels flared out like a fighter jet's thrusters. There was a pause before the barrels started to glow, plating began to raise and small particles of light began to gather into the openings. Then with a sharp crack of power, jets of accelerated particles shot out, adding more momentum to the cut.

Like a pair of fiery wings.

It was yielding results as the Spellbreaker began biting deeper into the Praetorian. But this increased exertion of energy was starting to take it's toll on Alaric. His muscles burned and his bones ached from the abuse they had sustained. And he could feel the armour starting to buzz against his skin.

With a final ear shattering splintering crack, Spellbreaker finally sliced through the Praetorian, exiting below the ribcage in an eruption of blue sparks and glowing acidic blood. Alaric copped a deluge of caustic bodily fluids that sizzled and steamed on his armour. He was almost painted a sickly green as he stayed motionless with Spellbreaker's head resting on the stone deck.

The Praetorian gave off one last gargled and blood spraying roar before it's upper half slid off it's lower half. Acid blood and entrails spilled in a green boiling deluge as the legs, lower torso and left arm stayed motionless for a few moments before they too fell to their knees and collapsed aside.

Alaric almost fell off his feet as exhaustion set in, resting on Spellbreaker to support his weight. Acid fizzed on the axehead and the decking, sending up wisps of acrid smoke and permeated his nostrils through his helmet. Fortunately, considering the many myriad creatures that the Yautja hunt, xenomorphs foremost among them, the decking was corrosion resistant.

The Archangels gave out a loud series of cheers, followed by Varlin and Kazrik. This was then followed by everyone in the docks. Aegis even gave out a loud call of victory and making Kal'deris flinch in the process.

Alaric shook his head as he got his breath back. Shifting on Spellbreaker's haft, he looked back to everyone watching him.

"Did I get the fucker?" he asked, pulling his helm off to wipe his perspiring brow and his aching head. "I'm not going to lie, that fucking hurt." he admitted, rubbing his eyes.

"I'd say you reaped that bug, Reaper." Andrezj called out.

"No way that fucker is coming back after that." Sergei stated.

Then as if to prove them all wrong, they heard the crunching of flesh and carapace. A very distinctive and unsettling sound. Alaric looked behind him and he swore in his native tongue as his eyes widened.

The Praetorian was grumbling softly, it's remaining arm listlessly feeling around. as the sound of cracking chitin and flesh was heard. It wasn't dead, even after all the punishment that Alaric had just unleashed upon it. And it was now starting to regenerate. Bones grew from cleft stumps like roots of a tree and tendrils of flesh began snaking along them, expanding into muscles and hardening into armoured carapace once more. It's legs on the other hand, perhaps receiving a wireless signal from the still functioning brain, was slightly twitching and the tail was snaking along the deck as if looking for it's next victim.

And this was a shocking sight to the yautja who were watching with stunned faces and slack jaws as the Praetorian was starting to piece itself back together.

Alaric shook his head in seething denial. After pushing himself to the limit, and nearly getting bitten in half to inflict maximum damage, the bug was still kicking. And he was reaching the end of his tether in the patience department.

In fact, he could feel the Rage bubbling up inside him. He had refrained from using it while wearing the armour because he had no idea how destructive he would be.

"For the love of..." Alaric sighed in frustration, dumping his helmet on the floor loudly and hefting up Spellbreaker as his hair twitched. "Why won't you die!?"

"Cut off it's head!" Kazrik shouted. "It's the only way!"

Alaric hefted Spellbreaker on his shoulder as he remembered the trick to killing these bugs.

Cut the head off the snake and the body dies.

"Third time lucky!" Alaric shouted back, walking over to the Praetorian's still moving torso.

Muttering darkly under his breath, he shuffled over to the Praetorian's damaged but still functional head as it's claw racked on the stone deck. Alaric responded by drawing his hand axe and driving it's armour piercing spike into it's palm, nailing that appendage to the stone deck.

With that final precaution, Alaric hefted Spellbreaker above his head as the Praetorian gave him one last gargling roar of defiance. Almost like it was goading him to attack. Alaric only narrowed his eyes as he proceeded to finish the job once and for all.

Bringing the axe down onto the Praetorian's neck, the runes glowing and casting an arc like a comet through the sky, Alaric severed it's head from what was left of it's body with an echoing clang of metal on stone and a bright eruption of light and flashing sparks. The Praetorian's head rolled to the side and the arm fell limp against the deck. And the twitching legs finally stopped twitching and went limp in the steaming pool of ichor.

The Praetorian, after everything it had inflicted upon them on the planet and just now on Lai'kairis, was now dead. Bisected, beheaded and was now Alaric's latest trophy. Not that Alaric was glad but then again, this just added some more prestige to his already growing repertoire of epic kills. And would no doubt help to silence some of his more outspoken critics, especially those who had the gumption to actually stay and watch his troubles.

Alaric fell backwards onto his rear with a notable clatter as exhaustion finally set in, fumbling at his helmet before ripping it off and dumping it at his feet.. Spellbreaker stayed embedded in the stone decking as the acid continue to fizz and bubble before condensing into sludge.

"Is it dead?" Karl asked.

Alaric, muttering under his breath, drew Razeal and fired off the entire magazine into the severed head just to be sure. The gauss rounds at this range had no problem in punching through the dead Praetorian's skull and pulverising what was left of it's brain. And by the time the slide snapped open there was a nice interconnecting series of holes and cracks in it's skull.

"Mag Tapped!" Alaric confirmed, ejecting the spent magazine before loading the next one.

Mag Tapped, or Magazine Tapping, is a discouraged practice of making sure something is dead by discharging an entire magazine's worth of ammunition into the target. However, considering how hard some alien lifeforms are to kill, it was better to be safe then sorry in most cases. More so when dealing with regenerating xenomorphs.

Alaric heaved himself up on his axe as he shuffled over to the severed head of his most persistent kill to date. Shaking his head, he looked at the crowd that was still daring enough to remain in the docks.

"This stowaway... is some of the shit we had... to put up with on that planet." he breathed, kicking the severed head contemptuously with his boot. "And I dare anyone who says otherwise to fight it if it gets up again!"

Holstering Spellbreaker on his back and his hand axe on his thigh, Alaric grabbed the Praeotrians head by it's crest, pausing to pick up his helmet and began to drag it towards Ja'anya. Kazrik and the High priestess looked around the battlefield, seeing all the dead arbitrators and pieces of arbitrators strewn on the deck. She held her hands to her chest in mourning for the dead.

"Looks like the Catacomb custodians are going to have their hands full for the night." the High Priestess lamented. "What a loss of life."

Kazrik shook his head at all the death around them as he retracted his mask. He looked up at her as he patted the small of her back in assurance. She looked down on him and, rather then being offended by this, she smiled at him.

"You could never have known." he comforted. "How could anyone have known?"

He did not have the heart to admonish them for their lack of knowledge. Knowledge that was no doubt censored from the masses. How could they have allowed such a thing to happen?

The Archangels on the other hand could relax now, lowering their weapons and taking in stock what had just happened. And hoping that it did not happen again. Zel'tyr could only go over in her mind what she had seen as Kra'vyx reaffirmed that his trophy was but a warrior. If it had been that Praetorian, Kra'vyx and his friend may not be here now.

Igneous, still holding his face walked over to Varlin and began griping that he could've kiled the Praetorian if it didn;t take him by surprise

Alaric stopped in front of Ja'anya and Kal'deris, panting as he sat on the severed head. He could see that both huntress and elder were taken aback from his latest kill. Succeeding where nearly two dozen hardened veteran arbitrators had failed horribly. And he saw the near petrified expression that was slowly retreating from Ja'anya's face. Her fear that Alaric was going to die right in front of her.

"Impressed?" he asked them, patting the crest with impetus. "Freshly done. Just for you."

Ja'anya walked up to him, staring at him for a moment with her mandible's curled up in a scowl before giving him a forceful shove off the Praetorian's head. Alaric landed on his back with a surprised yelp before she then pounced on him and pinned him to the deck. There were some murmurs from the Archangels when they saw this reaction. And Kal'deris simply gave a satisfied grunt as Aegis landed on his shoulder and he left them alone for the moment.

In their little lovers' squabble.

"Do you know how terrified I was?" she asked him, thumping him on the shoulder. "Do you know!?"

She was coming close to an emotional breakdown from seeing him almost die in front of her eyes. Being devoured by darkness as her nightmare had predicted. Only to see it in real life was a more traumatic blow to her psyche.

Alaric reached to her shoulders before pulling her close. She buried her face into his neck as he held her head. He could hear her faint sobs as she started to let it out. Alaric began to gently rub her shoulder, pulling his cloak over her to keep out prying eyes. He then cradled her head in his hand as he lowered his mouth to her forehead and gave her a tender kiss.

"I'm sorry, Ja'anya." Alaric apologised as he began to rock her in his arms.

Ja'anya held her hands to his chest as she looked up to him. He could see that tears were welling up in her eyes.

"Why did you let it do that to you?" she asked.

"I had to let the bastard think I was out cold." he explained as he wiped her eyes tenderly with an armoured finger. "It was the only way I could get close enough." he then held her close with her head under his chin. "I had to get inside it's defences. Like I did to the Primarch. And to do that, I had to take a fall."

She sat up on his waist, cocking her head from his last sentence.

"Take a fall?" Ja'anya asked, not familiar with the term.

"Deliberately lose." Alaric said, with a shrug. "Lulled it into an easy victory and struck back when it least expected."

Early celebrations lead to defeat as the saying goes.

Alaric then picked themselves up before sitting back on the Praetorian's head as Ja'anya stood before him. Aegis at that moment flapped over and landed on Ja'anya's shoulder. He held her hands in his and gave her a rare smile reserved only for her.

"But, this hunt is finally over." Alaric assured her before he turned back to the his main trophy. "And now we can..." he started before he paused.

Ja'anya followed his gaze and her mandibles clicked in puzzlement from what he was seeing. Kal'deris came over to see why they suddenly stopped in their reconciliation and he too noticed the sight

They noticed that the haze within the Primarch's bones had not faded with the Praetorian's death. If anything it seemed to be growing stronger. It was unsettling to say the least. Especially to those who had seen this sort of phenomenon before.

"Uh, guys?" Mac asked, pointing a finger at the Primarch's remains. "Shouldn't the pile of bones have stop glowing by now?"

His squad looked at the bile of bones before they immediately aimed their weapons on it. They did not need telling twice that something amiss and most likely horrific was about to emerge.

Kazrik held a hand to his head as he felt a presence stirring from within the Primarch's remains. His mind began to throb as he could feel something probing into his brow. The diamond on his crown then began to darken. Ominously, like a cancer spreading through the body, strands of dark light began to snake from the centre and spreading to every cut face.

The High Priestess noticed this strange sight and her mandibles widened from this unearthly metapmorphosis. It was enough to prompt Kazrik into removing his circlet and his eyes widened when he saw the diamond changing to a dark purple colouration. Like the diamond was morphing into an amethyst.

"What is this?" She asked

"Ancestors." Kazrik gasped as he realised, to his horror, what was happening. "No."

The sound of rocky cracking was heard and everyone's attention was drawn back to the now dead Praetorian.

The Praetorian's body, all of it's separate and hewn parts, began to glow from their recesses. Green light bled out as if it's acid blood was beginning to break down it's remains. But rather then dissolving into sludge, the Praetorian's remains were beginning to petrify. The sound of rapid cracking was in the air as flesh gave way to hard calcified stone. The outer layers of carapace shed in a snowfall of necrotic matter.

Even the head was glowing as Alaric found out when he was bathed in a sickly glow from below. Looking down, he saw that like the Primarch's skull, the Praetorian's remains and even it's severed head was seeping light from between it's cranial plates. And this light was growing in intensity as the sound of petrifying carapace grew. Black was giving away to sickly grey.

"Your trophy!" Ja'anya exclaimed in shock.

With a final crack, the Praetorian's remains crumbled into dust, including the skull Alaric was sitting on. The haze of purple light remained even as the rest of the petrified xenomorph dispersed into powdery cloud that engulfed Alaric as he tumbled to the deck. He coughed loudly as he waved ashen dust away from him, scrambling out of the cloud before drawing Spellbreaker again.

"The fuck?!" Alaric cursed as he got to his knees.

And no sooner did he heave himself from the deck that the glow was now starting to creep it's way back towards the Primarch's remains. The Archangels still had their gauss weaponry trained on the haze as its enveloped the Primarch's head like a metallic sheen before seeping through the carapace like water through dirt.

"What now?!" Igneous grumbled, still holding his scratched face.

Varlin pointed his pipe at the golem.

"Igneous, shut up!" he said.

The Archangels were unnerved by this sudden phenomenon. This was different to when Alaric slew the Primarch previously. This did not happen after the Primarch collapsed into the rubble sea.

"I don't like this captain." Hicks said to Andzrej, keeping his weapon poised.

Andrzej was equally apprehensive as his squad as the glowing began to intensify. Whatever was inside the pile of bones, aside from the Praetorian, was starting to stir. And was getting ready to come out.

"Hold the line." Andrezj ordered, cocking his gauss rifle's launcher at the Primarch's skull. "Whatever happens, we do not lose the docks."

A gush of deep purple light filed up the docks, blotting out even the lighting of the docks, in a maleficent haze as the Primarch's skull fully opened like the petals of a flower. The bone plates curved into a circular arrangement as some necrotic mockery of life. And rising up from it's cranial depths was a strange object. It resembled some kind of segmented pod, like a seed of a tree from which ripples like rain on water could be seen. And from small gaps in it's shell, that purple light was seeping out.

Alaric hefted up Spellbreaker, stepping in front of Ja'anya as the spartans readied their spears. The Archangels aimed their gauss weapons at the skull, the firearms powering up with energised buzzing. Kazrik held Forge towards the pod, the anvil head glowing to it's namesake. Zel'tyr was quick to heft her spear up ready for a throw at what ever was going this

Then the pod began to unfurl. The light within dimmed down as the walls retracted. And it was there that it was revealed that it was not a pod. It was instead six chitinous wings. And it was what was attached to those wings that proved to be most shocking as they began to unfurl.

And even more so to Alaric, the spartans and the dwarves. As it was someone they had all knew to be dead. It was enough for Alaric to let Spellbreaker slip from his fingers, the axe clattering onto the stone deck loudly. The Archangels too half lowered half dropped their weapons from the sight in font of them.

That of someone who had long passed from this life and into the next.

"Dionekes!" Alaric whispered as the spartans gripped their spears tightly.

Inside the wings' embrace was the indeed the body of Dionekes whom the wings were attached to. But, it was... different. The original armour appeared to have been subsumed with what could only be described as organic armour. Like the metal plating had grown over or permeated with xenomorph carapace, changing and recombining it's structure at a molecular level. A perversion of the armour that Alaric, Lysandros and Cryus wore.

The gauntlets ended in claws tipped with silver talons and five fingered like a human's. The boots however looked as if they had morphed into actual clawed feet not unlike the Praetorian while the greaves became more organic in shape. The chest resembled a cross between the ribcage-like exoskeleton and the muscled cuirass that Lysandros wore. The yoke of the armour looked like the collarbone-esque shoulders that the xenomorph's possessed.

But the helmet was the most disturbing. It still retained the corinthian design and was what could be considered the most human aspect of this being. Still, it had taken on the jet black colouration of xenomorph carapace with glowing decor and alternating ripples of light coming from the edges. But as the wings fully unfurled and stretched out like a six pointed star, the visor was glowing a deep purple instead of blue. And in addition to the bright circles that would mark the eyes, the lenses were seeping with the purple haze that possibly made up the aura that burned off the armour. Like it was bleeding this light from within.

Indeed, and beyond anyone's comprehension, the dead spartan was now but another host to the Primarch's unholy soul.