[center] [img] http://images4.alphacoders.com/282/282468.jpg [/img] [/center]

Zharrus waited impatiently whilst the human changed into his combat gear, before they both headed out into the rubble ridden wasteland of Baelzarus VI. Huge, dilapidated towers of cracked stone and blasted out glass loomed all around them, and the explosive blasts of far off battles seemed to vibrate through the very air itself. The twisted metal carcasses of old Sky Cars were strewn about the streets, and a grimy grey clouded sky hung above them. 

There was a constant feeling of damp irradiation about the city, which made Zharrus' head throb, and his body thick with sweat. The Old Man's form ached with old war wounds as they scrambled over the jagged piles of concrete and metal. He was tired. One way or another, this would be his last campaign.  

The spaceport was old and rusted, long past its prime after the countless conflicts it had been forced to endure, but it nevertheless maintained an element of Gothic splendour. Drum-like pillars of peeling reddish brown metal supported a network of inter-connecting bridges and domes which glistened with flickering yellow lights. There was a small sandy clearing for shuttles to land in, which was where the cluster of arrival's currently made their home. 

Zharrus made note of the newcomers, and the small militia which seemed to have accompanied the prisoner they'd been told to expect. 

Captain Horrigan strode passed Zharrus, clambering up onto a mound of rusty brown earth. 

"Listen up, guys and gals!" He called out in his smooth, authority-ridden voice. 

"We've got a long mission ahead of us, and this city is just the tip of the icyberg! I should suspect we'll all be getting to know each other pretty well over the next couple months or so, but for now lets just focus on-" 

[h1] BANG! [/h1] 

A single shot echoed throughout the space-port. 

Horrigan stopped, mid-speech, a small trail of blood trickling down from between his eyes. He swayed slightly, before his lifeless corpse toppled to the ground with a distinct '[b]THUD![/b]'. 

[h2] [color=ed1c24]"FOR THE HOUSE OF HARNEV!" [/color] [/h2]

They slipped out from behind towers and pylons, wielding all sorts of improvised weaponry. Frail, husks of men with milk-pale skin and sunken black eyes. They were clad in a motley combination of scarps and body-armour, and made no reservations about opening fire at the newcomers as soon as they charged out of cover. 

Zharrus cursed under his breath. He would mourn the captain later. 

Taking a diving roll, he slid behind a large boulder, popping up briefly to fire off a few rounds at the attackers, before ducking back down. 

Things were about to get messy.