Desert Swarm

[Gen Gravy]

Tharn Cinderclaw sat in his captain's chair. He rested his powerful jaws on one hand as he watched at the view monitor before him. Before him was the planet, Elysia-II, populated by many races of primitive aliens.

"Feh, another Beast World. Just a waste of time. The Vessh'Kul can have it for all I care," said a Draken soldier to Tharn's right.

Tharn glared at the soldier with intense, fiery eyes, "It is that attitude that will grant them victory, whelpling. Now get to your station before I force feed you to the engine."

The soldier swallowed hard as he saluted his superior and scurried back to one of the consoles in the room.

Thran let out an annoyed sigh as he looked back to the view monitor. Elysia-II was approaching quickly. He noticed that some foreign ships were entering the planet's atmosphere, but knew they were not Vessh'Kul, for they had already landed. He knew Vessh'Kul would didn't need to send out more than one pod to a planet of this size.

"Warchief! We are entering the planet's atmosphere!" shouted a Draken soldier.

"Take us down towards the north pole! Those damn bugs usually start from the top!" exclaimed Tharn.


The Draken ship accelerated upon entering Elysia-II's atmosphere. Its hull shined brightly in the sun as it flew over the deserts of Elysia-II's north pole. The ship came to a stop as it approached a flat area for it to land. It hissed and whined as the engines began to shut down, and legs ejected from the bottom, allowing it to land.

The side of the hull opened, allowing the light and heat of the desert to pour into the ship. Tharn breathed in deeply as he stepped outside of the ship. He was wearing a large breastplate with scratches and dents in it. Handprints from a large, Draken claw were painted onto it. He wore shiney, thick bracers around his wrists. A cloth girdle was tied around his waist, with an elaborate design of birds and water. His leggings were many chains linked together. Big, metal boots covered his feet, which looked terribly worn from much walking.

Tharn was a Draken elder, his long horns that protruded forward had man scars and looked worn. His man was long and grey, but kept clean and neat. His face was adorned with scars that Tharn wore with pride. Their represented his trials and tribulations in battle.

"Warchief! What will you have us do?" asked a Draken soldier.

"Tell Private Gart Soot-Tooth to come out here! He will accompany to find one of the primitive tribes of creatures on this planet," said Tharn.

The soldier nodded and returned into the ship. He quickly returned with a young Draken soldier, who was still in his teens. The Draken soldier didn't have the same massive build as the others, but was still just a growing lad. Tharn knew this, and wished to bring him along to expose him to the other races of the universe. Despite his size, the Draken teen still had some fight in him.

"Private, you will carry our supplies. We will venture into this desert until we find something that we can talk to about the Vessh'Kul," said Tharn.

Gart's face brightened up as he placed his arm across his chess as a salute, "Yes sir, sir!"

Tharn chuckled slightly to himself as he turned away from the ship and ventured into the desert. The young private hefted a large bag onto his back and followed the Draken Warchief. Excitement could be seen in his step.

[White-Jet]

As the Draken army heads further into the desert, they slowly start to feel as if they were being watched. Silent breathing and chuckles sounded around them as if waiting for the chance to strike.

"Looky. More Fire-Breathing Lizagators." mutters a voice.

"Ooh! I taste Fire-Breathing Lizagators before!" mutters another, "So cold and refreshing, Much better than sharing that warm, unrefreshing watering hole."

"There is a whole bunch. Enough to satisfy the entire tribe. Let us tear them apart."

"Not yet. Beings who arrive from Shiny Thundercloud always bribe us with better meat. We wait for them to beg before we strike."

[Gen Gravy]

Gart swallowed hard as his eyes darted around, "Sir?" he asked, "Is it the... The Vessh'Kul?"

Tharn let out a low growl, "No... But still something sinister..." he said. He looked back to his men and barked an order, "Defensive formation, everyone! We just walked into a pack of Hyenide!"

Gart frowned with worry, "What are Hyenide, sir?"

"A race of sinister creatures who seem to only care for food," said Tharn, "Unfortunately, we forgot to bring an offering of meat."

Most of the Draken soldiers burst with laughter, Gart looked to them in confusion.

"Stay on your toes, Gart. This should take you back to basic training. They rely on ambushing their prey, and since you are the smallest one here, they will most likely go for you first," said Tharn.

"What?!" exclaimed Gart as he stumbled back.

"Gain some composure, Private! That is how life works," said Tharn. He turned his attention from Gart and looked to the rest of his men, "Come on, Drakens! Let's keep moving..."

"Akool'bolash barah!" exclaimed the soldiers, "For the return of the Emperor!"

The Drakens continued with their march through the desert. Gart was eying the surroundings with worry.

[White-Jet]

Echoes of chuckles and whoops filled the air. The brushes around them begin to shake and tremble from the movement around the Drakens.

"The Fire-Breathing Lizagators know we are here, and choose to move on. They must not have offers for us."

"That is good. I prefer large Fire-Breathing Lizagators on this plain. It will help to keep my throat cool as I savor their cold-blood."

One of the Drakens in the far back of the group feel a set of fangs clamp down on his tail.

[Gen Gravy]

The Draken soldier roared in pain as he reached for a pistol hanging off his waist. He turned back, and began to fire plasma bolts at whatever was biting his tail.

Tharn looked back to the soldier being attacked and let out a low growl. He reached behind himself and pulled out a long, metal pole with a thick head. He gripped the pole tightly, causing plasma blades to emerge from the head, in the form of an axe.

"Ready yourselves, men! These mongrels mean business!" shouted Tharn, "Show them that the Draken are the ultimate predators in the universe!"

All the soldiers let out a battle roar as they grabbed their weapons. They took up a defensive position; a circle with Drakens back to back, so they faced the outside and inside. The only ones not within the circle were Gart, Tharn, and the Draken being attacked.

[White-Jet]

The attacked Draken is suddenly rained upon by eight Hyenides, sinking their sharp fangs into every joint they could grasp. One of them attempts to bite at his throat.

The other Drakens are met with hyena-like heads raising out of the brushes around them, yellow eyes glowing as the sound of licking chops filled the air. It was clear they were too famished to assest their chances of claiming a victorious meal for their tribe.

[Gen Gravy]

The Hyenide manages to dig his fangs into the Draken's throat, the Draken, however, wasn't going down without a fight.

The attacked Draken began to laugh wildly, "For the Emperor!" he exclaimed. Flames began to spew out of every orifice of his body. The flames licked at the Hyenide who latched onto his body, hoping to bring down the behemoth.

Gart watched in horror as he watched his comrade go up in flames.

Tharn chuckled, "Fool... The flea bag puncture one of his flame sacs." He turned his attention to the Hyenide and shouted, "Which one of you mongrels is the leader? Or have you eaten him already?"

[White-Jet]

The attackers quickly disperse upon feeling their furs singed by the Draken's combusted body.

The whooping and cackling never lets up.

"We do not believe in cannibalism. We would be extinct like the Lizagators who once haunted our watering hole. We only attack before other tribes show up to steal our prize."

"We also do not reveal our Alpha Leader. She is for us to know and you to find."

The hordes began to close in on the Draken army.

"But you will not be alive long enough to find out. You will all be eaten by the time she is revealed."

[Gen Gravy]

"So be it," said Tharn, "Drakens! Fight to the last man! Never give up! Never surrender!"

The Draken soldiers roared at once, "For the return of the Emperor!"

Drakens on the outside of the circle hefted their chains guns and plasma cannons up and began to open fire on the Hyenid. The air was filled with the thundering sounds of the Draken's chain guns.

Tharn hefted his plasma axe into the air as he charged towards the closest Hyenide, "Die, putrid mongrel!" he exclaimed as he swung his axe down.

Gart fumbled around for his weapon, but dropped it to the ground. He panicked as he reached down to grab it, eying the Hyenide closing in on him.

[White-Jet]

Most of the Hyenides dropped from the barrage of bullets, but more seem to take their place. It seems their hunger was so unbearing, death would have been their next option if they couldn't land a meal.

Before the situation got anymore heated, a loud, trumpeting sound blasts through the noise of gunshots and Hyenides screaming in pain. The ground shook as a herd of Paledons charged towards the Drakens, causing the brushes to rustle violently as Hyenides scramble to get away from their trampling feet.

Most were crushed trying to escape or counter the oncoming herd, while others fled for their lives. The Paledons surround the Drakens, turning to face the remaining Hyenides surrounding them, both staring at each other and sizing themselves up, waiting to see who will crack first under stress.

[Gen Gravy]

Tharn raised a hand, "Hold your fire, Drakens!" shouted the Warchief.

All of his men lower their weapons. The barrels of their guns were glowing white with heat.

"What... Are these things?" asked Gart in a panicked tone.

"Paledons... Don't worry, we have no quarrel with them," said Tharn with a smirk.

Tharn's radio begins to go off, as the voice of one of his men that remained with the ship began to speak over it.

"Warchief! The Elves! They are attacking the planet south of here!" exclaimed the voice.

Tharn chuckled, "Good. We will solve both problems in one move!"

Gart looked to the Warchief in confusion.

"Take the ship into space and wait there for further orders," said Tharn.

"Understood, Warchief," said the voice.

Tharn turned off his radio as he turned to the Paledons, "May I ask why you wise beasts have come to our aid?"

[White-Jet]

One of the Paledon turns to face Tharn. She wears a madallion with gold wings and a gem in the center, and cares a staff beside her. The other Paledons stay back and do nothing, seeming to suggest she is the herd leader.

"We have sensed a state of hostility in the spiritual wind and have seeked out to see what it is," she said, "We have sensed that you Drakens have not come here in the same hostile manner as the Dark Elves occupying the land of the forest. This strengthend our curiosity and encouraged us to leave our homes to figure out what it is you have come here for."

[Gen Gravy]

"We come here to help thwart another invasion in these beautiful lands, wise one," said Tharn, "The Vessh'Kul has arrived here, on Elysia-II, and I believe I know a way to thwart both invaders."

"One of our shamans had a vision of the Swarm coming to this planet, so Chieftain Aest sent us here to intercept the Swarm. Alas, we arrived too late. The Swarm has been on this planet for at least a day now. The new hive's queen should already be fully matured and laying eggs," said Tharn.

[White-Jet]

The herd queen rubs the bottom of her trunk in concern.

"We have been recieving some rather unsual spirits on our planet. Nothing has happened so far, so we figured it was the Hyenides suffering another food shortage. I am concerned about this 'Vessh'Kul' you mention. If they figure out how to persuade the Hyenides to work for them, it will not be the pray of this desert that will be affected by their need for food."

"Majesty," one of the Paledons spoke up, "We should warn the other races of this matter. Even with their ability to see spirits in the air, the fact that the Hyenides are causing a ruckus in search for food could distract the rest of the tribes from detecting the dark presence of our unwelcomed guest."

"Calm yourself," the queen states, raising a hand, "If we warn the others without further investigation, we will only release more spiritual panic into the air, causing all animals to go on a rampage and destroying everything our ancestors have worked hard to bring peace to. By understanding our foes better, they will have more conscience to prepare for a future war on our lands."

[Gen Gravy]

"A notice should have been sent to Drakonia," said Tharn, "My homeworld. One of our fleets should be on its way here to help contain the swarm. We would appreciate the aid of the denizens of this planet in this struggle. Once we kill the new hive's queen, the rest of the Vessh'Kul shall be easy to pick off."