The burning red sun of the desert world, Lotascand slowly sank towards the barren cliffs that marked the edge of the shifting desert. Cast in to shadow, the cliffs stood out dark and forbidding against the brilliant sunset. Soon Lotascand's second sun would rise, bathing the land in ultraviolet light. The Sapphire sun, as it was called, was unique to this solar system. It shone with light that offered no warmth or comfort to those of Lotascand. While it was never truly dark, the light from the Sapphire sun threw the land into shadows of aqua and deep night-blue, giving the landscape an eerie, sinister look.

But now at the time of the setting of the red and the rising of the blue suns, the desert was painted like a rainbow. Brilliant reds striped the deep greens of the mineral deposits that lay exposed on the planet's surface. Yellow metals gleamed in seams running along the low cliffs that mirrored the mighty land rises at the desert's end. Even the planet life displayed their colours while they may, for under the light of the Sapphire sun everything appeared in shades of blue.

Across this sea of colour toiled two vehicles, bouncing noisily across the shifting sands. They paid no heed to the display around them. It was not that kaleidoscopic colours which brought them to this inhospitable place. A more vital and sinister reason was the cause.

Sitting astride this sand bike, sergeant Cobra wrestled to keep the vehicle traveling straight across the soft dunes. It was not an easy task. The sand had a habit of sliding as the vehicle approached, as if it was somehow afraid of it. Or maybe it was trying to drag them down the steep slope to its doom below. Whatever the reason, Cobra was having difficulty keeping on top and heading for the great cliffs.

In the sidecar sat his gunner, doing his best to hold on and shift his weight to give the best traction. Both men were tired and sore. The fine sand had invaded their clothing and was rubbing at their skin, producing sores that would fester and turn septic if not treated.

But they could not stop until the cliffs had been reached. To be caught in the open in the bluesun would prove dangerous, if not fatal. For in the cool of the bluesun the animals of Lotascand emerged from their hiding places and hunted for food and mates, and Cobra had no wish to be either of them.

Another beast also roamed during the bluesun on this world, the Nob'eds. They were a warrior race currently conquering their neighbouring planets. Subjugating all they encountered with ruthless conviction. This was a relativity young area of space. Most of the peoples that inhabited the planets were peaceful. Or if not, tended to fight amongst themselves. The Nob'eds were the first to try inter- planetary warfare, and they were good at it.

Again this alone would not be enough to bring sergeant Cobra and his men to this desolate planet. His own race had done much the same thing two centuries earlier in their own region of space. No, they were here for a specific reason; to rescue Captain Morrain and Lt Wolf.

The two officers had been sent to a planet as yet untroubled by the conquering tide, to advise its citizens how best to defend themselves. It was during a meeting with the planetary elders that the Nob'eds launched a surprise attack. Captain Morrain and Lt Wolf were captured and taken prisoner. The planet was destroyed. The Nob'ed leader said "This will serve as a warning to all those who would defy me."

The two captured offers were then taken to Lotascand for interrogation. The Dark Angel Chapter demanded their release, and negotiators were sent to arrange their freedom and bring them home. But those men were slain as they landed on the planet.

The Chapter had within its power the ability to destroy Lotascand and allthe conquered planets in its realm, and brings its people to their knees. But there was a problem. Most of the Chapter's fighting force was engaged with another Chapter, defending its home base from the invading Nexus empire. It was a long hard war with much at stake. If the Dark Angles withdrew to exact revenge on the Nob'eds they would do so at the risk of losing to the Nexus empire.

So there was only one solution. A small force would be sent in to effectan escape and free the two officers, or die trying. Volunteers had been plentiful as both men were well liked and respected amongst their troops. In the end a team of twenty men, all specialists, were sent.

Cobra and his men were part of this specialist team. They were known as the "Desert Dog Recon". Their mission was to survey the prison were the two were being held, and report back to the others so that a rescue could be planed. That was why they were toiling across the burning sand towards the towering cliffs, trying to make it before the Sapphire sun took hold of the sky and bathed the world in blue.

The two machines snarled and growled their way across the sand, spitting debris out behind them, showering their tracks with soft sand that drifted into the depressions, filling them and erasing all signs of their passing.

The cliffs loomed above them as the four men rode into the deep blue shadows. It took some time for their eyes to adjust to the different lighting, so they had to ride slower, taking more care not to ride over a Tarketh pit. To do so would mean certain death. For the soft sand would cave under the weight of the machine, sending it into the waiting jaws of the Tarketh hidden below.

With a sigh of relief they made it to the cliff base without incident, unobserved. "So far so good" said Cobra. "Ok let's find some cover and get some rest. God knows we've earned it."

A shallow cave near a long vertical crack running from the desert floor all the way to the top of the cliff offered a safe place to hide for the bluesun cycle. Thankfully the men of the Desert Dog Recon relaxed and ate a meager meal from their rations. They were safe in here. The patrolling Nob'ed ships would be unable to pick them up on their sensors, and visual sighting would be impossible.

During the brightsun the ships relied on visual sighting to catch would-be intruders. But during bluesun they used thermal imaging devices. These would not work in the brightsun because the reflected heat of the sands was so intense that heat from a body would not be picked up. But during the bluesun anyone out on the desert sands would be picked up like a titan in a troupe of dwarfs.

Already the men could hear the wine of ships as they passed overhead on their way to patrol the wastelands. They talked little as there was nothing to say. All knew the danger that lay ahead, and all knew the plan of attack.

Working by torch light they cleaned the sand out of their dune bikes as best as they could, and checked their lightweight battle armour. Like the snow snipers of the First Sniper Squad Elite, they didn't wear the heavy battle armour that was standard issue for most of the Marine Corps. Instead they wore a lightweight version. It required less power to operate and was considerable lighter in weight.

Although it would stop all light rounds, a heavy bolter fired at close range would blast through the armour as if it was not there. But as they were a Recon squad it was not their job to get involved in close quarter battles. They left that to the heavy armoured storm troupers. All they had to do was to sneak in and find out where their Captain and Lt were being held, and survey the prison's defenses.

But that would have to wait until brightsun, when with their armour hastily camouflaged to match the unusual colours of the desert, they would cross the plateau to where the prison was supposed to be located.

Taking the watch in turns, the men rested until a pink tinge in the eastern sky heralded the return of the brightsun.

*****

Now was the time to move. They had to climb to the top of the cliffs before the sun heated them too much for the men to touch the rock. It was agreed they should climb the crack that ran up the cliff not far from the cave. It would provide some cover from the returning Nob'ed ships as well as the ascending sun.

Sergeant Cobra was to lead the climb. Striped of his battle armour to make himself as light as possible, he began to haul himself up the craggy cliff. It was easy going at first, the crack was wide enough to get his forearm into and there were plenty of handy holds. Frequent gouges and openings in the rock face made him wonder if some animal had lived there. "I hope nothing poisonous lives here."

Carefully he placed another nut into a crack and tugged on it, testing it for safety. Then using one hand and his teeth, he pulled the rope up and clipped it into the karabiner. Another step had been completed. He turned and looked down to where the others were waiting below to call out for some slack on the rope, when a flash on the horizon caught his eye.

Squinting into the glaring sun, he tried to see what it was. Then he realized it could only be one thing. "Nob'ed Patrol!" he shouted down to his companions. They scattered into the cave and crouched in the shadows, staring out over the sandy desert, weapons cocked and ready.

Half way up the cliff Cobra sought a place to hide. The sun had not yet heated up the ground enough to block out the heat from his body, especially as now he was sweating like a pig. With the radiant light of the bright sun on the cliff, a visual sighting of him was also a possibility.

He tried to force himself into the crack, but his powerful frame was too bulky. Desperately he scanned the rock for somewhere to hide. "Come on there's got to be cover. I'm not going back down after getting this damn far."

Suddenly a possibility presented itself. A fold in the rock a little way above his head. He checked the position of the incoming ship. "Thirty seconds 'till they're in sensor range, got to hustle or die." So taking a deep breath and wiping the sweat from his brow, he continued upwards.

*****

The gleaming ship sped over the orange and green sands. Those inside eager to complete the patrol and return to the pleasures of home. Alrianain female slaves had been brought to the city and the men on the ship were keen to try them out. Ahead rose the massive cliffs that marked the end of their patrol. Once over them it was just a short flight to the prison town of Zeznin.

The patrol had been boring. As they always were. Even reports of Space Marines landing on the far side of the Shifting Desert had proved false. The pilot of the Skoutkraft Four was bitterly disappointed. He longed to engage the Marines, or anyone else for that matter, in battle. He had been placed here, instead of a Battle Cruiser, by his father for his own safety.

Qualgon loved his father deeply but wished the old fool would let him live his own life, just for once.

Ever since he had been a lad, Qualgon had dreamed of riding out into the stars. Battling with the evil forces and bringing peace to the Universe. And now his people were doing just that and he was assigned to patrol Zeznin and the Shifting Desert. "Nothing ever happens out here, it is probably the most boring place in the entire Universe." Precisely why his father had sent him there.

Mumbling to himself about the injustice of having his fathers, Qualgon flicked off the thermal imaging scope. It wouldn't pick up anything now that the brightsun was up. "Not that there is anything to pick up anyway." Easing back the joystick he angled his craft towards the cliff and prepared to execute a victory roll, his trademark.

*****

Cobra scrambled up towards the fold of rock. The Nob'ed ship was closing fast. Desperately he drew his feet up the rock as high as he could, until he was crouching on a small ledge, clinging to the knob of rock just above his knees. Then with a growling grunt he sprang upwards, flinging his arms up in search of the hold his bulging eyes focused on. His face showed the strain and his muscles protested. Cobra felt the cliff falling away from him as his outstretched hand banged on the hold and then slipped, grazing his fingers badly. Frantically the other hand struggled for purchase to stop the sergeant falling. With the rope on, the fall would not be serious, but it would surely mean he would be sighted by the patrol ship, and that would be fatal.

His fanatically searching fingers caught in a side crack and he gripped the rock with all his strength. Quickly bringing his other hand to slap onto a small knob, he managed to stay on the cliff. Sweating profusely and cursing between gasped breaths, he dragged his tired body up and jammed a foot into the narrow crack. With barely enough time to catch a quick breath, Cobra inched himself in behind the fold just as the patrol ship swept up towards him.

*****

Qualgon felt the tingle of adrenaline and started the roll as his ship headed towards the top of the cliff. He liked to cut it close to increase the danger, and the thrill. Much to the horror of his crew. He was halfway though the roll when something on the cliff face caught his eye. Some sort of movement as if something was ducking into the shadows. Qualgon wondered what it could be. All the rock serpents had long since been wiped out, and nothing else that large on Lotascand climbed cliffs. It was about the size of a man. "Could it be one of the Space Marines that were supposed to have landed out here?" he mumbled as he craned his neck to get a better look.

Qualgon had no time to wonder about it as his lapse in concentration halfway through the roll had let his ship angle towards the rock face. If he didn't do something pretty desperate pretty damn quick, it would all be academic.

He hit the retros and slammed the ship into the steepest climb possible, still continuing the roll. The 'G' forces crushed him back in his seat constricting his chest. Not that he was breathing anyway. He heard his crew gasp in terror, cursing the deadly antics of their pilot. Qualgon doubted that any would want to fly with him again, if they lived long enough to make it back to base. Still harder he pulled on the joystick, struggling to clear the top of the jagged cliff. It seemed to leap up at him as the ship scraped over the rim of the plateau, missing the metal crunching encounter by a hairs breadth.

Qualgon sighed thankfully and eased the craft back onto an even keel, heading for Zeznin. He glanced over his shoulder at his crew and grinned, hoping his fear did not show. Weather it did or not, the crewmen just scowled back at him and shook their heads angrily.

*****

Cobra relaxed as he realized the ship had passed over without crashing. "What sort of maniac was flying that ship" he asked himself. "Whoever he is, he is either a very good pilot, or one just waiting to die." But either way it seemed he and his squad had escaped detection, so it was back to the job at hand, getting to the top of the cliff.

The cliff-top was gained with no more incidents and the recon team donned their camouflaged armour and headed slowly across the plateau toward Zeznin.

The bright sun was high in the sky now and beat down mercilessly on the hiking men. Despite the cooling system in their suits, the warriors sweated profusely as they toiled over the broken ground. Tough stringy grasses tugged at their boots and snagged their legs. Every step was becoming an effort. Every outcrop and rise seemed higher. Cobra knew they couldn't keep up the pace much longer. But they had to reach the far side of the plateau as soon as possible. The lives of his superior officers depended on it.

A narrow ravine that ran for a short way then dropped into a bottomless pit offered a place out of the burning sun to rest. They would also be safe from the periodic Nob`ed Patrols. They lowered themselves carefully into the welcoming shadows and sat against the ravine wall, thankful to be out of the sun for a while.

Sergeant Cobra surveyed his men as they rested from the arduous trek. All were good men and had served as part of the unit for many years. They had seen action on many planets and faced all opposition as a tight team. But something was bothering Cobra as he sat hunched over in the shadows chewing on an energy bar. There was a conflict developing between Python and Mamba."I wish I knew what was going on with those two" he thought. We're going in at the sharp end as it is. The last thing I need is a division in the team."

He wondered weather he should confront the two soldiers, get it out in the open so whatever the problem was it could be dealt with. But that too could be more disruptive than just letting the men work it out for themselves. He sighed deeply and looked at his chrono. "Time to get moving," he said. "Python, you've got point, Mamba tail end Charlie, Adder, with me." The others answered with their usual, "Sarge" as they picked up their gear and moved out.

The blazing sun was beginning its slide towards the western desert as the recon team crawled out of the ravine. The air was still blisteringly hot but the men knew that soon the desert would begin to cool, making traveling much more comfortable.

"Five hours to cross this plateau before the Nob'eds switch to thermal scopes. We'll have to double time it lads," he drawled with a grin. A series of groans answered him, but the men still picked up the pace. They all knew the outcome if they were spotted by a patrol.

Again their bodies were bathed in sweat as they pounded over the rocky terrain towards the plateau edge. The cooling systems in their battle armour were working overtime just to stop the men's blood from boiling as the desert sun beat down on them, threatening to cook them inside their suits.

It was a grateful squad that collapsed to a rest atop the mighty cliffs that marked the edge of the "Valley Desert." This was a desert of many valleys and ravines caused by massive faulting and folding of the planet's crust. The end result was a maze of interconnecting valleys sweeping from the base of the plateau out to the "Great Stony Desert" about four weeks journey to the west.

Despite being a desert, the "Valley Desert" teemed with life. Rivers cut narrow channels through the boulder strewn terrain giving life to hardy bushes and shrubs. These were fed on by small herbivorous. Carnivores hunted during bluesun, and were in turn hunted by the Nob'eds.

The Nob'eds inhabited this desert in large numbers. Many towns and settlements were carved into the rock along the valley sides. Most were small, housing one family in three or four rooms. Their smooth stone walls glowing red as the brightsun dipped lower into the western sky. In a particular non-descript valley that ran straight into the giant cliffs, stood a building that was larger than any other above ground dwelling in the "Valley Desert." It was the prison. Here captives of note were brought for interrogation and incarceration, or to put it simply, torture.

This was the building the squad now surveyed from high on top of the Great Cliffs. They had found a cave a short climb below the rim of the Plateau large enough to hide in comfortably. A ragged overhang protected them from detection by the Nob'ed patrol ships sweeping the Plateau above. The deepening shadows and their camouflaged armour hid them from surveillance below.

"Well," thought Cobra, as Mamba began to set up their communication equipment. "We made it to our objective. That is at least something positive to report." Now all they had to do was watch and wait. Try to determine where the Captain and the Lt. were being held and formulate the best possible way to effect a rescue.

"I'll take the first watch with Python," he said. No sense in having the two arguing with each other when they should be watching the building below. Maybe during the course of the watch Python would give him some idea of what was transpiring between them.

Mamba reported in to rescue base and then thankfully settled down to get some rest. His partner, Adder, cooked up some rations for the squad, then he too retired to the back of the cave to rest.

Reclining against the cave wall, munching on the food Adder had cooked, Cobra concentrated on the scene below. The prison was huge and well defended. Breaching its stout walls would prove costly. Then there was the problem of escape. The only way out was along the narrow winding trail cut into the side of the steep walled valley. There was no cover for anyone fleeing along that road, and nowhere else to go. "This is not going to be easy" he mused.

Slowly the lights began to flicker on as the brightsun sank and the Sapphire sun rose to rule the sky. The Nob'ed Patrol ships passed overhead frequently as they flew out to patrol the Shifting Desert. There was little movement in the compound below, most of the inhabitants being locked up for the bluesun cycle.

Cobra pulled out his Holo-scope. It was similar to the sniper sights but was not usually used as part of a weapon. He switched it on, brought the device up to his eyes. The three dimensional image of the prison was surprisingly dark. Without shifting his gaze Cobra switched it to night mode. Instantly the scope went dark. Slightly bemused the sergeant re-calibrated the scope and tried again. Still the image was dark, punctuated by bright dots that were the compounds security lights.

Cursing he turned to Python. "Hey Pyth, Give me your Holo will you. I think mine is malfunctioning." The other handed him his scope and continued to stare out over the valley in silence. "Something is really eating at him" thought Cobra. But he had other problems, Python's scope seemed to be malfunctioning also. This was crazy. For one scope to be out was highly unusual, for two to malfunction was impossible. There had to be another answer. He sat staring at the device, turned it over in his hands trying think why they did not work here, when they would work anywhere else in the universe.

His gaze drifted out over the valley shrouded in deep blue shadows. The Sapphire sun was high in the sky now and was shining down it's cool light just as fiercely as the brightsun. Then it hit him. What was here that was no-where else in the universe?... A Sapphire sun. It must be the blue light that was interfering with the light receptors in the Holo-scope. "Damn! That makes life even more difficult." It would mean they could not launch a bluesun raid. Using the deep shadows for cover. Without the aid of the Holo-Scope they would have no idea where their own men were let alone the Nob'ed Guards. A brightsun raid could prove very costly. "I don't fancy our chances of getting into the compound much less rescuing the Captain and Lieutenant and escaping" grumbled Mamba.

"Me either" agreed the sergeant.

For the rest of the cycle the two soldiers sat in silence staring into the blue gloom. Life was getting more and more difficult every day.

At the rising of the brightsun the watches exchanged places. Cobra informed the rest of his squad of his unfortunate discovery."That effectively cuts our surveillance capability in half" said Adder.

"Yes" agreed Cobra. "But you're Marines; adapt and overcome. This is just another problem to be solved."

The others nodded, then the watches exchanged places, and the cave was silent again.

Brightsun passed with no reportable incident. All seemed quiet bellow, except for the occasional screams from some poor soul being tortured. The men hoped it was not their friends, but there was no way to tell for sure.

Cobra and Python spent another bluesun surveying the compound. Python, who was the unofficial electronics wizard, (his skills were mostly used for infiltrating banks before he joined the marines) managed to adjust his holo-scope to get a lighter, if somewhat fuzzy picture. So the two men took turns at watching the prison and the surrounding countryside, searching for any way to get into the prison without having to storm the forbidding walls. It looked hopeless. The prison was backed up against the high cliff and its tall towers commanded all the approaches along the narrow valley. The only way in was to climb down the cliff.

"That's it!" exclaimed Cobra. Python started out of his daydream and stared at the sergeant.

"What's it?" he scowled.

"How to rescue the Captain and Lt. Wolf" replied the sergeant enthusiastically. "We can abseil down the cliff right into the compound.

Look, it's defended from attack along the valley, and even from an air strike. But all their defenses point away from the cliff. They never thought an attack would come from here." He looked hard at Python as if trying to convince him by the weight of his stare. The other non-com considered this for a few moments, running his experienced eye over the fortifications once more. Then he turned back to his sergeant, the blue light from Lotascand's Sapphire sun making his grin look decidedly evil. "I think you're right" he said. "It's the best way in and out. They'd never expect an attack to come from behind their fortifications."

With renewed hope the men gazed down at the compound bathed in the pasty glow of searchlights. "Somehow we will make this work" Cobra stated.

Brightsun found all four men discussing possible plans for the rescue attempt. The patrol ships seemed to buzz overhead less frequently, probably because the reports of marines landing in the desert had proved unfounded and the ships had returned to their normal patrols. This was a bonus for the rescuers. The less surveillance activity in their area when the rescue party went in, the better.

The brightsun was high in the sky when movement in the compound drew the squad's attention. Their hearts leapt as they recognized the two prisoners being escorted across the courtyard as the two officers they had come to rescue. At least they were alive.

*****

Lt. Wolf grunted in pain as the hard wooden batten slammed into his kidneys. He stumbled slightly, then regained his stride. They were not going to break him. Many had tried and all had failed. "And most were a lot tougher than this bunch of rock slimers" Wolf kept telling himself. But he could not remember ever being in this much pain. A quick glance at the captain told him his superior officer fared little better.

Since their arrival here the two had been systematically beaten and questioned. It was a primitive and crude method of torture, but usually effective in the end. Both men bore the marks of the beatings on their faces and bodies. Great black bruises and welts covered Wolf's back and chest. His face was swollen and cut, the blood left to dry where it had trickled from the wounds. But still the big man would not concede defeat.

He squinted up into the brightsun and then to the towers. Most were deserted as they were only manned at full strength when an attack was imminent. That seemed unlikely today.

Captain Morrain caught the toe of his boot on the uneven surface of the compound floor. He lurched forward stumbling to his knees. A kick from the nearest guard caught him in the chest, forcing the air from his lungs and spinning him onto his side. Dust plumed up filling his dry throat and sending him into spasms of coughing. Another boot aimed viscously at his back brought a sharp cry and a grunted curse as the captain tried to roll away from his assailant, still coughing on the dust. Incensed at the beating, Wolf slammed into the guard closest to him, sending him sprawling.

With their hands tied behind them neither man was in much position to fight, but that had never stopped Wolf before.

The other guards left the captain choking on the desert dust and rushed the lieutenant. Wolf stood his ground, waiting. He ducked under the first swing of the charging guard and slammed his knee up as hard as he could into the man's ribs. There was a satisfying thump and a rush of exhaled air as the guard doubled over and sank to the ground. He lay there unmoving, his broken ribs having pierced his heart. Pain exploded in Wolf's right arm as a badly timed blow connected with his biceps. Snarling viciously the big lieutenant lashed out with his boot , catching the guard in the groin. He let out a faint squeak as his face flushed red and he sank to his knees.

Without hesitating Wolf raised his other leg up as high as he could then slammed it down, putting all his weight into the blow that split the guard's skull.

Meanwhile the captain had managed to thread his legs through his arms so that now he had his hands tied in front of him. He was making good use of the freedom that gave him. He launched himself at the first guard Wolf had knocked to the ground just as he started to rise. Instantly his powerful hands locked on the guard's throat and pressed on his windpipe, choking the life out of him. Flailing wildly with eyes bulging in fear, the guard struggled to free himself, but to no avail. Morrain's sweat splattered the man's face as he pressed even harder, ignoring the weakening attempts to dislodge him. Consciousness left him followed quickly by life as he joined the other guards in death.

Trying to grin but mealy grimacing in pain, Morrain stumbled to his feet and staggered to where Wolf was searching the dead guards for something to cut their bonds. Sweat ran freely down his face, stinging in the weeping cuts and dropping annoyingly off the end of his nose.

"I haven't had this much fun since Arrapells Five" he panted. Wolf returned a quick, pained smile. They had indeed had fun on Arrapels Five. The pair had busted up six bars, four strip joints, two brothels and a wedding before the marine police had been able to subdue them. But that was a long time ago, and Wolf doubted that his body could ever take so much `fun' again.

His searching hand closed over what he was looking for, a knife. Triumphantly he drew it out from the guard's tunic. The blade glinted wickedly in the bright light. Twisting to his feet to cut his captain's bonds he halted as the sound of running boots filled the courtyard. This was closely followed by the sound of many weapons being cocked. They were trapped again.

*****

Feelings of hope and elation turned to hate and despair as the squad watched their friends fight for freedom. They had nearly made it too. Successfully taking out their escorting guards only to have them replaced by the entire garrison. They watched with growing horror as the two men were beaten with rifle buts and boots and then staked out under the burning sun and left to suffer.

The hours dragged on as the men from Desert Dog Recon sat in the cool shadows watching the sun slowly blister the bodies of their comrades. What was worse was that there was nothing they could do about it. The rest of the rescue squad would not be here for another twenty four hours, they were having trouble with sand in the engine of the drop-ship.

"Damn I hate this" cursed Cobra.

"Yeah we're fully powered marines, and we're helpless" said Mamba.

"We have to do something Sarge, we can't just leave them there like that" Adder chipped in.

"What do you suggest?" asked Cobra tersely. "The four of us can't take on the whole garrison." Adder remained silent.

It was clear that the men would not survive another brightsun so Cobra decided to fall back on the safest option, follow orders. He radioed the drop-ship and informed them of the situation.

His orders were short and concise. Get them out as soon as possible at all costs, then head back across the table-land to a rendezvous with the drop-ship. Sergeant Cobra sagged back against the cave wall and sighed. Following orders was fine and dandy. "I just wish someone would tell me how four men are going to rescue two injured officers from a heavily guarded prison without back-up." Life was certainly getting more difficult every day.

Bluesun saw the team making ready to descend on the unsuspecting prison. It had been decided that Cobra, Mamba and Adder would make the assault. Python was to stay up in the cave to provide covering fire if need be. He was a crack shot and although disappointed at not being part of the assault team, he knew that the success of the mission might very well rest on his sniping skills.

A quick check of chronos and equipment, then Cobra was over the edge, sliding silently down the rope, tapping off the rock face with his boots. He reached the bottom and quickly ducked deeper into the dark blue shadows. Crouching with the modified holo-scope he scanned the courtyard for signs of movement. Out in the middle he could see the forms of the two officers. Dark mounds surrounded by a halo of searchlights. "I hope they are still alive" he thought. He waited anxiously as the rest of the rescue party descended.

A patrol ship whined overhead and the three men crouched against the rock hoping that those on board had not switched on their thermal scanners yet. All remained quiet as they crept out into the courtyard scanning the walls and towers for any indication that they had been spotted.

From the edge of the pool of light Cobra whispered coarsely, "Captain are you awake? It's Cobra sir, we've come to get you out." He was relieved to hear the officer groan and shift his head, squinting to see where the voice had come from. Swiftly Cobra crossed the pool of light and lay next to the two men. Hoping anyone looking at them would only see the shadows of the two who had been staked out all day. Speaking softly Cobra briefed the two officers on the escape plan while cutting the bonds that held them fast to the stakes. Grateful sighs escaped both men as they felt their bonds cut.

Sergeant Cobra carefully helped the men to their feet and half carried, half dragged them into the deeper shadows. Their skin crinkled and cracked where the harsh sun had burnt and blistered it. Every movement was painful, and even in the cool of the Bluesun they could feel their skin burning. They drank heavily from the water bottles proffered by Mamba and Adder.

After struggling back to the rope with the exhausted pair, Cobra began to wonder how they were going to get the men back up the cliff. For the men of Desert Dog Recon it would not be a problem, prusiking up a rope, although hard work, was every day bread and butter to them. But for the two badly beaten and burned officers it would be a monumental challenge.

Cobra's one consolation was that they had not been discovered, yet. But he could not rely on that luck lasting much longer. They had to get up the cliff, now!

"Ok Captain, you go first. Adder will follow you and help if need be.

Mamba, you follow the Lieutenant up. I'll cover until you are there" said Cobra quietly.

"I hope Python's ready to cover us too" thought Cobra out loud. Mamba grunted, then said, "I just hope he's still there." His stern face staring up into the blue shadows high on the cliff.

Cobra was shocked. No-one ever questioned another's loyalty to the squad, ever. What was this bad blood between these two? To his penetrating stare Mamba answered, "The boy's got ideas above his station. Wants to be a Sniper Elite. Filled out the application and everything. Seems we're not good enough for him any more." With that he helped the lieutenant start the long arduous journey up the cliff.

Cobra smiled to himself, relieved that the feud was not serious. Mamba was simply worried that he was going to lose a good friend, one that he had been close to for a long time. The sergeant knew what it was like to say good-bye to close friends, he'd done it often enough, usually to corpses. He knew that somehow if Python was accepted to the sniper elite unit, that Mamba would find the words to say good-bye and the two would part friends.

He waited until the lieutenant and Mamba were halfway up the cliff before starting his ascent. "So far so good, with luck we just might get away with it."

Up in the cave Python put down his bolter and grabbed the hand that sought weakly for a hold at the cave entrance. Planting his feet and pulling with all his strength, he hauled the Captain into the cave. Adder followed closely, clearly showing the strain of helping the heavy man up the long climb. He shuffled towards the rear of the cave and sank to his knees beside the Captain as Python picked up his bolter and returned to watching for signs of an alert.

About half an hour later Lt. Wolf joined the Captain sitting in the cave having their wounds dressed and drinking as much water as their bodies could stand. As the two officers were being treated and recuperating as best they could, Cobra radioed the drop-ship to report the success of the rescue. All was going well and they were to rendezvous with the drop-ship on the far side of the plateau after the next bluesun. That meant they had a lot of traveling to do. Cobra was not sure that the men were up to it, but they had little choice.

Suddenly a klaxon sounded from below and the courtyard echoed to the sound of men running and shouting. Obviously the escape had been discovered. From deep in the shadows of the cave the marines watched with interest as the towers were manned and patrols dispatched out into the valley. They could see them sweeping the steep sided valley with thermal scanners as they searched for the fugitives.

"It's a good thing you brought us up here instead of trying to escape down the valley" observed the Captain. "They would have cut us down before we got ten parabs." Cobra nodded in thanks for the praise of his planning. Then he said "Were not out of trouble yet. It won't not take the Nob'eds long to figure out you did not escape down the valley, and since there is only one other way out, the guards will soon be on our trail."

He glanced at the captain's blistered skin and said, "Do you think you are up to a trek?" The captain just smiled, "Lead on."

So as the eastern sky began to lighten with the promise of the brightsun, the four recon marines and the two officers crept out of the cave and climbed the short distance to the top of the plateau. From here they had to trek as fast as they could to the far side of the plateau without being seen by the Nob'ed patrols, and it was likely they would be intensified now that the escape had been discovered.

The heat beat down mercilessly on the band as they toiled across the burning rock. Without the benefit of servo armour and its, cooling system both Lt. Wolf and Captain Morrain dehydrated very quickly. So the journey was made in short bursts from one shadowy crevasse to another. It was not the fastest way to travel, but it would have to do.

The Nob'ed patrols increased as expected and the men were forced to scurry for cover many times to avoid being seen. But so far they had escaped detection.

*****

Cobra sighed. They were close to the rendezvous now. He was tired. The strain of being alert and active on this planet was taking its toll. He longed to be able to rest, to be back safely aboard their troopship heading for home, the mission completed. Perhaps if the captives had been unknown civilians or lesser men he might not have felt the pressure so much. But they were not and he could not relax until they were all back aboard the dropship.

"Tomorrow we will make the rendezvous with the dropship, then I can relax" he thought.

Sergeant Cobra thought about Python and Mamba as the band waited for another Nob'ed ship to pass over them. He had ordered Python to stay behind and hold off the ground troops until the dropship arrived. He hoped they would be alright. Python's skill as a sniper would be well tested today. "If he survives this he will definitely be worthy of inclusion to the elite unit" mused the sergeant.

Mamba had volunteered to stay behind and cover him in case he needed to retreat. The old soldier shook Cobra's hand and bid him good-bye when the band split. Cobra had recognized a defeated sadness in him and knew the marine did not expect to see his friends again in this life. Python had not seemed to notice, or if he had he gave no sign as he waved his brothers in arms good-bye and dropped into the crevasse.

The brightsun trekked on across the sky, once again baking the rocks and sands below. A hot dry wind sprang up blowing dust into small whirlwinds that filtered across the rock like twisted conical birds looking for prey. The fine dust stuck to the back of Cobra's throat as he scanned the sandy desert below for some sign of the dropship. He tried to swallow but the dust just irritated him more.

The dropship was overdue now. At least five hours late, and Cobra feared that something had happened. "Maybe they ran into a Nob'ed patrol and got shot down, or maybe they were having more trouble with sand in the works." Cobra forced himself to calm down and think rationally. "If the ship had been attacked they would have sent out an emergency call, if it was sand or gear failure they would simply assume that we would sit and wait" Cobra counseled himself. That was all they could do, sit and wait. Cobra was beginning to hate waiting.

He began massaging his temples to ease the ache in his head when a loud crack echoed off the rocks around him. He instantly recognized the sound and knew that Python had engaged the ground forces. It was only a matter of time now. If the dropship didn't turn up they would all be prisoners or dead by the next bluesun.

*****

Python and Mamba lay silently in a small crevasse. The brightsun was on the rise warming the rock as it ascended into the sky. Through their holo-scopes the pair watched a group of men as they slowly walked towards them. They were still a long way off, little more than flickering blobs on a field of blue. But both men knew that they were guards from the prison tracking them across the plateau. Nob'ed ships swooped overhead, the whine of their engines echoing off the walls of the crevasse.

Cobra and Adder were helping the two officers creep towards the great cliffs that descended to the sands of the shifting desert. The drop ship was due in the next couple of hours and with all the Nob'ed patrols they knew it was likely they would have to fight their way out.

Python cursed and squeezed off another round at the scurrying figures. One lurched sideways and fell heavily. It did not rise again and Python knew he had scored another kill. But things had not gone the way he planned. He had hit the guards as the began to search a small cave, hoping to drive them all inside, effectively bottling them up. But more than half had managed to escape and now he was forced to snipe at two groups and every time he changed position one or the other would gain ground.

Mamba slapped him on the shoulder and said, "Good try lad, it nearly worked. But now we've got a real battle on out hands." Python nodded grimly then returned to cutting down the odds as much as possible before the guards came close enough to use their own weapons.

The guards fired blindly as they inched forwards. They were still out of range but the sound of hot rounds ricocheting off rocks was enough to keep the two marine's heads down.

After what seemed like hours Mamba poked his head up to see just how close the enemy was, then turned to Python and said, "Time to go lad. If you make it to the sniper elite, do a couple for me." Then he was out of the crevasse and running before Python could say a word. He ran northwards in full view of the approaching guards, his bolter beating an unholy tattoo as he pounded over the broken rock. Python saw many surprised guards fall as the hot rounds sliced through them. It took a few moments for the stunned men to recover and return the murderous fire, but by then Mamba was already in good cover.

Furious, the guards stormed towards him, their weapons blazing. The ground around the rock where Mamba lay erupted in a mass of explosions as hundreds of rounds thunked into the rock. Then Mamba was up and running again, still heading north, away from the rendezvous point. Deadly rounds pounded the ground at his feet and whistled through the air around his head. Mamba's heart pounded and sweat clouded his vision as he concentrated on covering as much ground as fast as possible. A trip now would be fatal.

A loud crack and a shower of sparks broke his concentration as a round ricocheted off his battle armour. More rounds connected buffeting him and causing him to stumble. His boot twisted on a loose rock and he pitched forward slamming into the ground and knocking the breath from his lungs. Desperately he tried to roll to his feet but his tired body refused to obey. Dust clung to his face and grit filled his throat. More rounds bounced off his battle armour causing stinging pain but no wounds. But it was only a matter of time before one found its way through ending his tenacious hold on life.

Sharp reports rang out in quick succession but Mamba paid them no heed. He knew the high powered rifle was Python's, he hoped the lad was faring better than he. "Go get 'em kid" he gasped as he gathered himself together and threw himself over a small mound just as the ground where he had lain erupted under a barrage of fire. He fell through the air into a bell shaped dell and landed on his back with a loud whump. Pain shot through his body, and as he struggled to breathe a black cloud descended and he knew nothing more.

Python saw his friend fall amid a hail of bullets and screamed in outrage. He sighted and fired as fast as the weapon was capable of doing. The cold, calculating, professionalism driven away by sheer rage. Many guards fell under his onslaught thinking the man they chased was the only threat. It took long seconds for them to regroup and return fire. But by that time Python had seen Mamba scramble to cover, and decided it was time to leave.

He dropped further back into the crevasse and then ran along the tunnel that led to a shallow valley running most of the way to the edge of the plateau. Once in the tunnel he crouched down and waited. He could still delay the guards and give Mamba time to rejoin him. If the guards chose to jump into the crevasse to follow him he could cut them down like winter wheat. If they chose to go over the top he could rise up behind them and be equally devastating. He hoped Mamba was alright but somehow deep in his heart he knew his friend was gone. But as he crouched looking along the crevasse with his breath coming in short pants, he clung to the hope that the old marine would perform some miracle.

*****

Cobra heard the deadly sound of gunfire and knew that his men were taking the fight to the Nob'eds. He hoped it wouldn't be in vain. The dropship was nowhere in sight and the brightsun was beginning to wain. He seriously considered joining the fight against the ground troops. At least it would be better than just sitting around waiting.

A patrol ship swept overhead heading for the battle that was raging further out on the plateau. Cobra knew that it was hopeless unless the dropship appeared very soon.

Next to him Adder sat and stared out over the burning sands. "We could use the sand bikes" he said hopefully. He didn't like sitting around any more than Cobra did, and the sound of Mamba and Python fighting it out alone made him feel like a traitor. Cobra shook his head. "I know how you feel, but all we can do is wait. Just wait."

Suddenly he felt Adder stiffen and squint at the shimmering horizon. A black dot was barely visible against the darkening sky. All four sat and watched with their hearts in their mouths, praying that it would be the dropship and not another Nob'ed patrol. It seemed to grow with extraordinary slowness as it swept towards them hugging the sand dunes.

Then the radio crackled and the dropship captain announced their impending arrival at the rendezvous point. All four men scrambled to collect their gear, and in the distance Cobra heard the wine of a Nob'ed patrol ship as it pilled on the power to intercept the approaching dropship. A sharp report was followed by a loud explosion and the whine rose to a scream then an ear splitting shriek as the ship dove out of control towards the hard, unyielding plateau.

The ground trembled under the impact and the four men were shaken to their knees. Their ears rang as echoes bounced around the rocks and the ground trembled as the plateau was rocked by a series of explosions as the ship tore itself apart. Then everything was strangely quiet. The only sound was the ragged uneven breathing of the four men as they scrambled to the top of the ravine they had hidden in. Once out in the open they stared towards the burning wreck in awe. It blazed brightly against the darkening sky as the brightsun slowly set. Debris scattered over a wide area mouldered, shrouding the crash in a grey cloud.

The sound of an approaching ship turned their heads towards the east. The dropship swept up from the sandy floor of the shifting desert and hovered near the four men. Small stones and clouds of dust billowed out from under the craft as it slowly descended to the plateau. They were buffeted by the jet wash and had to turn their faces to avoid being blinded by the swirling dust. They coughed and spat the choking dust until the dropship touched down and the engines were set to idle.

Cobra let out a thankful sigh as he led the two officers to the waiting portal that hissed open. He had completed his mission successfully. It had cost him the lives of two of his best men and closest friends, but in the Marine Corps, that was not unusual.Still squinting and coughing in the swirling eddies of dust, the band entered the dropship and punched the button to close the door.

*****

Python grimaced in pain and shook his head to clear it. The dull pain turned to sharp and he groaned miserably. Blood caked his face and chest, and dust clung to him where it was drying a dull brown. He tried to remember what had happened, then it all came flooding back. Mamba going down, him blazing away at the guards, then setting a trap for them. He remembered a patrol ship flying overhead towards the prison, then turning just as it reached the far side of the plateau and heading directly for the rendezvous point. He had leapt from his hiding spot and squeezed off a round at it. It was a futile effort he knew. He almost laughed at himself for trying it. But he had to try something.

A lucky shot he would call it, but others would say it was inspired shooting. His round found a weak spot, a stabilizing servo unit that was only lightly armoured. It burst into flame frying the stability controls and sending the craft into an uncontrolled dive into the plateau. The resulting explosion caught the guards, who were on top of the plateau waving to their friends, with full force. They were killed instantly as the ship disintegrated sending shards of burning metal scything through their ranks.

Python was caught too. Thrown back into the shallow gully by the blast, he had lain unconscious for a few moments. His armour had saved him from most of the flying debris, but still some of the shrapnel had managed to get through. Now pain greeted every movement and as he struggled to his feet he had to brace himself against the rock to stop himself pitching over.

All thought of escaping or fighting was gone. All he wanted to do now was find Mamba and bury him, the last decent thing he could do for his friend.

His high powered bolter across his shoulders and his arms draped over it at the wrists, he shuffled towards the spot where he had seen his friend fall. The acrid smell of burning flesh and melted metal made the bile rise in his stomach. He felt faint as he stumbled through part of the crash site. Bodies lay everywhere, mutilated by flying debris from the crash. The ground was stained red and body parts littered the ground like the scraps of some giant predators feast.

Python's world began to spin crazily and the corners of his vision darkened as the marine fought to control himself. He stumbled to his knees gasping for breath. Blood trickled down the side of his face mingling with the grime that covered him from head to toe. Valiantly he forced himself to stand, scolding himself for being so weak. "They will never accept a weakling into the sniper elite. You owe it to Mamba to be strong." Steeling himself and wincing in pain, he rose and strode, albeit with wobbly knees to where Mamba had fallen. As he collapsed beside the churned up mound where Mamba had rolled to cover he heard the dropship landing in the distance. "At least the Captain and Lieutenant made it."

Taking a deep breath of air that was cooling as the brightsun relinquished its hold on the sky to the bluesun, Python looked over the mound expecting to see Mamba's body. To his surprise behind the mound was asmall bell shaped dell and deep in the darkening shadows he could just make out the form of a man lying on the ground. He knew it was Mamba. His heart began to ache and he sobbed sadly. Somewhere inside him a small spark that had burned in the hope that somehow his friend lived, glimmered and died.

Carefully he climbed down into the dell and crawled to his friend's side. The ground around the body had been churned up by the gunfire that the guards had rained down on the unconscious man. His armour was torn and bloody from the numerous hits he had taken. Dust caked the drying blood as it pooled and dried.

Python broke down and wept on the armour that had served his friend for so many years. Now it was just a collection of servo units and wiring. The man inside was dead.

Off in the distance the sound of battle raged, but it made no impact on the young marine as he tenderly picked up his comrade and stumbled up the slope to the far side of the dell. He no longer cared about the Nob'eds, or the blood oozing from his own wounds. There would be time to deal with that later. Right now all he wanted to do was bury his friend so he could be at peace. He decided to lay him to rest in a cave overlooking the shifting desert. Mamba had always liked sandy deserts. "From there you can watch over the sands forever brother" whispered Python to the corpse.

Through misted eyes he saw that his friends had not escaped as he had thought, they were still battling for their own survival in the skies over the plateau.

*****

Qualgon sighed sadly and turned his ship towards the great cliffs and resigned himself to boredom. He had been sent out to patrol the shifting desert again as punishment for his dangerous stunt a few cycles earlier. He was disappointed because there had been a breakout from the prison and he wanted in on the hunt. But he was not flavour of the month and had been sent out to the boredom of the sands. Through the comms officer he had heard that one of the prisoners had been killed and the other was being hounded by ground forces. It was all over and he had been miles from the action. "Just once I wish I could get into combat, so I can prove myself in battle. That would show my father."

He sighed again as the great cliffs rose before him, dark blue in the Sapphire suns light. He considered repeating the manoeuver that had landed him in trouble, just out of spite. But getting his wings taken off him would not help him to get a combat placing. He pulled back gently on the stick sending his ship into a graceful climb. He could almost hear the sighs of the crew as they saw him playing it safe. Their sighs of relief turned to gasps of horror as the shape of the dropship lifting off from the plateau filled their vision.

Qualgon jerked back on the stick and punched up full power, sending his ship into a stomach wrenching climb. It missed the dropship by inches as they spiraled up into the dark sky. The light from the bluesun glinted off the hull as Qualgon banked his patrol ship and prepared to dive on the marines. Now was his chance to prove himself in battle. To become the conquering hero and earn himself a place in a combat squadron. But something was wrong. His hands felt icy and numb, and his mouth felt dry as he barked orders to his crew. His stomach knotted and churned and he thought he might be sick. "It's not supposed to be like this" he thought madly. The vision of him throwing up at the crucial moment of battle, and the mocking of the others if he did, forced him to swallow the rising bile and stare determinedly at the dropship that was turning to meet the oncoming attack.

*****

Cobra braced himself against the pilots chair as the man ordered the crew to stand by for combat.

"Just as I thought we had made it, this damn patrol ship had to turn up" the sergeant cursed. They could outrun it but Cobra wanted to retrieve the bodies of his two friends if at all possible. So the dropship lumbered around to face the diving Nob'ed patrol. Cobra hoped it wasn't armoured, for of it was they might be in for a long fight. Although heavily armoured and bristling with weaponry, the dropship was less maneuverable and it wouldn't take long for Nob'ed reinforcements to arrive.

The pilot judged the distance and closing speed of the craft and barked, "Stand by" to his flight crew. The other marines sat strapped in their seats unable to do anything but watch.

Then the pilot punched up full power and all felt the kick as the engines blasted them skyward. The weapons control officer announced incoming fire and the ship was rocked by energy bolts bouncing off their defense shield. Then speaking calmly as if he was teaching a class of cadets, he announced he was returning fire.

The others looked at him in admiration of his steely nerve, then grinned as they all thought the same thing; "That Nob'ed's gonna fry."

High powered energy bolts streamed past Qualgon's ship as he twisted and dodged still diving towards the marines. Sweat streamed down his stern face as he concentrated on staying alive. His knuckles were white on the joystick and his stomach was tied so tightly in knots he thought the feeling would never go away. His weapons officer screamed at him that they were taking hits and could not sustain this level of defense.

Cursing, Qualgon threw his ship sideways, sweeping past the dropship and hugged the plateau before turning to re-engage. His fear was slowly turning to anger. He cursed that it was not as easy as he thought to shoot down an enemy ship. But the thought of finally getting a combat position steeled his nerve and fueled his desire for victory. This time when he powered his ship up to full speed he was determined to destroy these cursed marines.

The weapons officer aboard the dropship reported "No damage, to either ship" then said to the pilot, "Turn and continue to climb" as the Nob'ed ship was attacking from below. Unlike the patrol ships of the Nob'ed Empire the dropship had the capability to fire to the rear. Something the weapons officer hoped the other pilot was unaware of.Tensely all on the dropship held their breath as the weapons officer called out the range of the approaching ship as if he were calling bingo numbers.

The ship bucked and rocked as energy bolts slammed into the rear shields. But they held and the ship only suffered minor damage.

Qualgon exalted as he chased the fleeing marine ship. He was sure of a kill now and punched up full power as he ordered the weapons officer to fire everything they had at the dropship. His crew yelled victory curses as the fight raged higher into the sky. Finally the flamboyance of their captain was going to pay off.

The marines weapons officer announced to no-one in particular "Returning fire." Lasers lashed out from the rear of the ship catching Qualgon completely by surprise. At such close range his shields could not withstand the barrage and crumpled. He screamed in pain and frustration as fire swept through the ship engulfing it in a spectacular fireball.

*****

Trudging groggily towards the rim of the plateau, his shoulders aching and his head throbbing miserably, Python continued to carry his comrade towards his resting place. A loud explosion tore through the sky accompanied by a bright glare as one of the battling ships was destroyed. Even though he gazed heavenward while he adjusted his grip on the lifeless body, he could not make out who had survived. "I'll know soon enough" he thought. Then he continued his painful march towards the edge of the plateau.

He was still a short distance from his goal when the air was filled with wind, blowing up blinding clouds of dust and debris. He staggered back coughing and cursing but still holding onto his friend tightly. The noise increased and the sand became small rocks, pelting him like hail. He had to turn his back and hunch over to protect himself as the ship landed before him. Then the wind and noise were gone and as Python turned he saw the dropship waiting. The portal opened and framed in the doorway by the internal lights, Cobra stood beckoning. Python took a deep breath and exhaled. The dust left his lungs and a weight lifted from his heart. Quietly to the corpse in his arms he said, "Come on Mamba, let's go home".

© 1999 by T. S. George

Bio: I have been writing for several years no (because I am too broke to buy books). When I am not writing for pleasure or work (I teach at a secondary school) I climb rocks, or try denting them with my head by jumping off my mountain bike at high speed.

This is the second in my series of short stories about the trials of the men of the Dark Angel Chapter of the Space Marine Corps. If you would like to hear more about their adventures / missions please feel free to e-mail me:

tgeorge@paradise.net.nz