Five disc speeders scoured the empty city of Karyaes Tellanii, searching for their quarry. The city had been abandoned many ages ago, most of its population falling to the plague of the witches. Now, few beings could survive on the planet at all. The crews of the disc speeders had precautions against the disease, as did their companions on the ground.

Unfortunately, there was one being on the planet who was immune to the plague entirely.

The disc speeders were slim mechanical creations, with solid hulls of titanium and strong pulse cores to power the engines and weaponry. Built on each side at the midsection was a large vertical disc, housing two of the speeder’s ant-grav coils. A third disc, horizontal instead, was fixed to the hull above and a short way back from the view canopy. This was used to keep the speeder in the air, while the vertical discs ensured directional control. A thin tail reached back behind the speeder, slipping out between two circular thruster tunnels. A single four barrelled shard cannon was fixed to the underside.

Squadron Command Kalimk searched the skies before scrutinising the sensor display. He was determined not to allow the target to escape as it had done on the ruined world of Tellept. It was a sneaky creature, managing to evade all of his efforts. A planetary sweep of Novrass Kiantei had turned up no results, yet Supreme Command Degette was adamant that the creature had come to this world. Therefore a more localised search was required, and Degette was underestimating nothing. The entire army had been transported to Novrass Kiantei to find and destroy the target. They’d managed to find trace of it in Karyaes Tellanii, and so it was in the deserted city that Degette was focusing his search.

As the disc speeders turned from one wide street into another Kalimk glanced down to the ground and saw the gathered forces of the Miscallan mercenary platoon. It was a formidable army, some two hundred men in total. Even from the height of the disc speeder Kalimk could see the foot soldiers organised into their hunt teams. They were tall beings, hidden away in their heavy armour, suits of emerald metal that kept the soldiers safe from the poisonous atmosphere. They each carried a sturdy shard rifle; weapons that fired heated spikes of metal at an enemy, roasting them from the inside.

Speeding out in front of the foot soldiers Kalimk could see four patrols of skimmer bikes, each patrol having four men. Each bike was armed with a small shard launcher mounted to the front. One bike in each squadron had a side port fitted where the fourth man operated a heavy burner cannon. All of the riders were armoured.

At the front of the force were seven heavily armoured walkers, cumbersome creations that walked sluggishly on two thickly built legs. They were heavy machines, housing a single man inside each one. Each had two powerful arms, but the limbs differed. Some of the walkers had large shard cannons replacing the arm and hand, the shoulder built to house the significant amount of ammunition. Others had missile launchers, capable of firing eight at a time and swiftly reloading. Others still had combat attachments, huge claws that could crush an armoured man to a pulp with no effort.

While the walkers led the army, the tanks covered the rear. They were blocky vehicles, but the emerald hulls formed a powerful defence. Each tank carried a large hexagonal turret fitted with a powerful energy weapon. Kalimk watched as they slowly trundled behind the foot soldiers, their metal treads crushing rubble and debris underneath. He had always admired the massive machines, but he much preferred his disc speeder.

He left the main force to scout ahead, calling the other speeders to check in. He sent Tressoi and Erkikst left, ordering Kellvaiyes and Tomorran to follow him. His fellow pilots all acknowledged the commands and two of the speeders peeled away to cover more ground. He led Kellvaiyes and Tomorran ahead, turning left at the next corner. As he did so Nissick, his co-pilot and gunner, pointed ahead. Kalimk saw a shape disappearing behind a building on the left, a large shape. Guessing that it was the target, Kalimk sent a warning to the other pilots and followed the shape’s course.

He was just in time to see one of the speeders fall from the air, its entire rear section torn away and the top disc smashed. It slammed into the road and the speeder was engulfed by flames. Kalimk shouted for the other pilots to check in. It was Erkikst who failed to. Kalimk saw the shape again and increased speed, reporting his direction back to the other pilots. Nissick opened fire with the shard cannon and red hot spikes of metal raked the building behind the creature.

It roared and slammed an enormous fist into the road, ripping up a chunk of mortar and threw it. Kalimk hurriedly pulled up to avoid the missile but Tomorran wasn’t so fortunate. The mortar struck the right side of his speeder, tearing a large breach in the hull and taking off the anti-grav coils on that side.

The vertical discs worked by matching their twin’s energy output to keep the speeder travelling straight. If a pilot wanted to change directions he would increase the energy output of the relevant coils. Therefore with one disc gone there was no balance left. The speeder spun out of control, heading straight into one of the buildings.

The target vanished again behind one of the buildings. After quickly referring to the holographic plan of the area Kalimk gave chase, sending Kellvaiyes around the other side of the building. He was more determined now to hunt the target down and kill it, just to make it pay for the four lives it had taken, on top of the others. Only three standard weeks ago Kalimk’s squadron had numbered twelve speeders. The hunt on Tellept had reduced the squadron to five.

The target was gone. There was no trace of the creature at all, not even damage caused by an escape. Kalimk put his speeder into hover mode, seeing the other two pilots doing the same. Then he ordered Nissick to widen the range of the sensors. There was something being detected in one of the buildings, but it was far too small to be the target. Either there was something else on this hellish rock, or Kalimk hadn’t been told everything he needed to know.

Before he had the chance to contact Degette Kellvaiyes’ speeder exploded as a pulse shot burned through the hull into the fuel line. Kalimk could only watch as the speeder fell to the ground and two more of his men died. Then he realised who the target was. Pulse weaponry was rare, limited to only three races. One of them was now extinct. Out of the other two, there was no doubt who the target was.

He ordered Tressoi to break off. He would never have risked his men against one of them. He cursed Degette for not letting them know what they were up against. To the Dark with the rest of the army.

The tower to his right caved in, an enormous hand reaching out and closing around the tail of Tressoi’s speeder. Kalimk pulled away while Nissick opened fire into the crumbling building. As he turned away Kalimk saw the other speeder being crushed against the road and buried by debris.

He never had the chance to react before a second fist slammed into his own speeder, smashing the canopy and crushing him and Nissick into the floor.

It was Squadron Command Mezchenkan who reached the scene of the attack first. He swerved his skimmer bike to a halt and stared at the damage, trying to fathom how a single creature could take apart a disc speeder squadron so quickly. As he watched he saw Squadron Command Korfic leading his squadron from another road. Squadron Commands Krosht and Salmader approached from the opposite road to his own. Mezchenkan called each Command with his commbead, but none had seen the target leaving. He sent warnings to the other three men in his squadron to be wary.

His concern was well founded. Even as he finished speaking one of the bikes from Korfic’s squadron was launched into the air, smashing into the tower opposite. Mezchenkan slammed his foot down onto the accelerator pedal, pushing his bike forwards through the debris to help Korfic. He was just in time to see a figure, shorter than a Miscallan, punching into the front of the side-seated bike of Korfic’s squadron. The shard cannon was smashed under the blow and the bike flipped, crushing both men against the ground. Before Korfic was able to move the figure, dressed largely in black, picked up the bike’s burner cannon and threw it at Korfic, managing to sever the Squadron Command’s head. His bike toppled sideways, the head rolling across the ground.

Mezchenkan’s squadron opened fire, but hit nothing. The target was already gone. Mezchenkan hadn’t even seen it move. He wrenched his shard pistol from its holster and spun around in his seat, trying to find the target.

Another of the buildings collapsed, burying both Krosht’s and Salmader’s squadrons. None of them escaped being crushed underneath the collapse. Of Mezchenkan’s squadron it was Tuara who died first as a massive spike tentacle skewered both him and his bike. With a shout Narassil turned the burner cannon on the limb, slicing it in half. Almost immediately an enormous fist came crashing down onto the other bike, flattening both Narassil and Keomorr.

Mezchenkan started firing with both his pistol and cannon, watching as the tentacle repaired itself. Then, as the monster that had killed his men showed itself, he saw the fist coming down again and prepared himself for death.

Supreme Command Degette listened to the comm speaker fixed to his trawler as the skimmer riders were slaughtered by their target. Had he really underestimated the creature so much? Kalimk and Mezchenkan had been two of his most able Commands. Now they were both dead and as far as he knew the target hadn’t even been significantly wounded.

He sent four of the tanks to the front of the force, ahead of the walkers. The remaining seven stayed at the rear of the army. Degette wanted some good armour at the front in case the target came for them. If the creature did show itself he planned to use every bit of firepower the army had.

One of the Squad Commands shouted something through the comm system. Degette looked up and saw the Command pointing. He’d seen something moving, but Degette couldn’t see anything. He sent the squad to scout the area that had been pointed out, directing one of the tanks and two of the walkers to cover them. As the units moved away from the bulk force, Degette climbed aboard his personal trawler to get a better view.

As he watched the tank was thrown high into the air. It landed amidst the main force, crushing no less than sixty men as it rolled to a halt. Their strong armour meant nothing against that kind of weight. Standing where the tank had been was a short being, one of the ancient race but lacking their tribal markings. A long mane of crimson hair covered his head but there was none on his face. The ancient race rarely grew facial hair. From Degette’s view this man did not seem dangerous. He was barely half the size of a full-grown Miscallan and he couldn’t possibly be stronger.

But Degette knew better and this man had the strength of one of the largest creatures alive bottled up in that tiny form.

He shouted the order to fire, hoping that sheer numbers would be enough to destroy the target. But by the time the shards finished flying three foot squads had been torn apart, and both the walkers he’d assigned to cover the scouting foot soldiers were reduced to piles of melting debris after their pulse cores were smashed.

The street fell silent again, but only for a few seconds. The target reappeared ahead of the army and punched through the front of a second tank. Degette watched as he lifted the tank one-handed, a weight to equal seven men, and swung it over his head to crush two more walkers. Before the dust had even started to fall he’d wrenched a plate of armour off the side of the tank and was using it as a shield to block the shards fired at him.

One squad was brave enough to charge him. They died in a matter of seconds. The last to doe was picked up by the target and thrown into another of the walkers with enough force to smash the machines front armour. As soon was the walker fell the target ran towards the foot soldiers, using the makeshift shield to protect himself.

What followed next was sheer butchery. The target ploughed through the squads of foot soldiers, discarding his shield and fighting only with his bare hands. Armour that had proven to withstand mortar shells cracked and shattered under the creature’s strikes. Some men were even thrown the full length of the street. One hit the rear of Degette’s trawler and he was thrown clear. The vehicle itself crumbled under the impact.

Degette looked up to find that all of his men were dead. The target was now finishing off the final tank. He punched a hand through the front view panel and dragged the tank’s operator through. Then, as the turret swivelled round to fire he threw the man at the barrel of the cannon. The operator was incinerated by the blast. His death clouded the view of the gunner and the target climbed up onto the tank. He ripped the turret off and cast it aside, reaching inside and pulling the gunner’s head off.

As the target dropped down from the tank, Degette saw a shard rifle within reach. He wrapped his armoured hand around it and stood, aiming at the creature. He fired one shot, sending a spike of red hot metal towards the target. The creature simply caught it in his hand, ignoring the heat. He threw it back and the shard struck Degette in the side, ripping through his armour and tearing into his flesh. He fell, seeing the target heading his way.

Damned Miscallans. They always thought they were the best around. It almost made him want to wipe out the entire race. After all, who could put up with a race of mercs for long? Even their own employers couldn’t stand to be associated with them for long.

Speaking of which, he’s have to find out who’d sent this lot after him. It wouldn’t be easy, what with the war going on. It could have been anyone. He’d made enemies everywhere.

He walked up to the Miscallan Supreme Command, sliding his pulse pistol from its holster. The Miscallan was bleeding heavily from the wound caused by the antique shard weapon. The pulse pistol hissed in anticipation of the kill. This was a worthy kill and it loved to end the strong lives. It gave the weapon some great satisfaction.

“That’s impossible.” The Miscallan stammered. Clearly he hadn’t been told everything about the man he’d been sent to kill.

“They don’t call me the Destroyer for nothing.” Elvorn Darek said, silently pulling the trigger.