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 Kesh frowned at the idea of something more intelligent than an Unusual Fauna living on Styros. The planet’s initial sweep hadn’t revealed any raider camps, or the presence of any rival countries, so what could have happened? As he sat in thought, he noticed markings in the snow. Footprints, leading off into the wastes. Kesh stared at them momentarily, before slowly beginning to follow the tracks. Snow began to fall, threatening to cover the prints, so he moved faster, hurrying into a jog. He made his way over a snowdrift, when the prints stopped. Before Kesh could speculate as to why, he felt the cold barrel of a weapon press into the back of his head. “Don’t move,” said a soft voice behind him, “I won’t let you take me too.”
-''To be continued.''
+== Part Three - A Mysterious End (pt. 2) ==
+Sorne lay against the snowdrift, shuddering. The cold was only half the reason for his violent shivers, although the biting chill of the snow that soaked through his coat was certainly unpleasant. The other half was fear. Memories of the sudden raid, of the snow suddenly churning as white-clad attackers sprang from it, of the high pitched shriek of plasma and dying men, raced across his mind.
+He heard the hiss and click of his rebreather as it released painkilling stimulants into his lungs. His goggles faintly flashed red words on the corner of their lenses, warning him of the wound in his side. Sorne glanced down at the wound, which had stopped bleeding. ''It’s just a scratch'', he thought to himself, ''nothing to be worried about''. Still, the plasma burn that ran just below his ribs looked substantial. Sorne found himself worrying about infection, or how agonizing it would be when his rebreather’s painkiller gasses ran out. He shook his head, trying to reassure himself. “Come on, Sorne,” he said, trying to put on his most optimistic voice, “There’s a friendly ship in orbit. Surely they’ll send help soon!” Even as he said these words to himself, he began to doubt whether or not help was actually coming.
+As the day dragged on, snow slowly began to fall. Sorne looked down at his uniform, grateful for the protection it provided against the cold. Unfortunately, the hole that had been ripped across the black uniform coat’s side still let in enough cold to be unpleasant, but at least it wasn’t enough to kill him. He hoped. Sorne felt his eyes grow heavy, the call of sleep urging him to shut his tired eyes and let him rest. In the back of his mind he felt a hint of concern, wondering if he would wake back up if he were to fall asleep. “I’ll be fine,” he assured himself, “It’s just a quick nap. What’s the worst that could happen?”
+<nowiki>***</nowiki>
+Sorne blinked awake, feeling groggy. He felt an intense throb of pain in his side and let out a soft curse, realizing his painkillers must have worn off. Suddenly, he saw a humanoid shape in front of him, clouded by his still-adjusting eyes. He quickly scrambled for his pistol, before getting to his feet and slowly moving up behind the figure, stumbling slightly in pain, before pressing the barrel of the gun against the back of the figure’s head. “Don’t move,” he said, his voice soft due to his tiredness and pain, “I won’t let you take me too.” The figure stiffened, and its breath caught in surprise.
+Slowly, Sorne’s eyes came into focus, allowing him to identify the figure in front of him. It was a small human, it seemed, wearing a black coat and hat. Sorne identified the golden symbol of the Omen sewn into the coat’s shoulder and sighed in relief, lowering his weapon. “You’re friendly,” he sighed in relief, “Thank the Omen.” The person slowly turned to face him, revealing it to be a young man, with a clean shaven face and well-combed blonde hair. “Oh,” said the boy, looking rather intimidated, “Er, you’re one of the colony guards, I assume?”
+Sorne nodded his head in confirmation, and the boy’s expression relaxed. “Thank goodness,” he said, smiling politely and extending his hand for a handshake, “My name is Secretary Kesh, with the investigation team that was sent here to learn why you went biosign-dark.”
+Sorne tentatively shook Kesh’s hand, before clearing his throat. “That would be the raiders’ fault. They just popped out of the snow and opened fire on us.”
+“Raiders?” said Kesh, raising an eyebrow, “We scanned Styros before establishing any colonies. The only life-forms it detected were Unusual Fauna and Snowbison, with the occasional insect or rodent. Certainly nothing sentient.”
+“Maybe the scans were wrong,” responded Sorne, “Maybe the raiders landed on the planet after you’d finished scanning. But look, can we discuss this after we’ve made it back to the ship? I’d like to get this wound fixed.” He gestured to his wounded side, wincing as another throb of pain coursed through it.
+“Ah, of course,” Kesh said, slightly pale at the sight of the wound, clearly not having much experience with such things, “Lieutenant Haythe is just over the snowdrift, I’d be happy to lead you to-” and that was when the snow exploded.
+== Part Three - A Mysterious End (pt. 3) ==
+Kesh found himself being rudely and abruptly cut off by the spray of snow that was tossed up all around him. Before he could react, he felt rough hands clench around his face and throat, pushing him down the ground. He choked as the airflow to his lungs was cut off. He could hear the sound of shouting and scuffling nearby, as Sorne attempted to resist the sudden attack. Kesh began to flail, wildly waving his arms in the hope that he might hit his attacker. Miraculously, his swinging fist made contact with something. Kesh heard a crackling sound, as if glass was breaking, before the enemy released him, stumbling away.
+Kesh scrambled to his feet to see a man in a white cloak and reflective faceplate, which now had a crack in it from Kesh’s punch. He saw Sorne tangling with a similarly-dressed enemy nearby, though he was clearly on the back foot. The attacker landed a blow on Sorne’s wounded side, causing the soldier to cry out in pain, dropping to the ground. Kesh saw Sorne’s pistol lying on the ground a few feet away. He dove for it, grabbing frantically for the small weapon. The first attacker, no longer reeling from Kesh’s blow, reached for his own weapon, a long rifle slung around his back. Kesh swung the pistol around towards the attacker and fired, sending a bolt of plasma screeching through the air. The attacker let out a grunt of pain as the shot impacted his leg, sending him sprawling.
+The second enemy yelped, before shouting in concern, “Fritz!” He sprinted towards his friend, leaving Sorne on the ground. Kesh ran to Sorne, helping him to his feet, before starting to make his way over the hill.
+“Quickly,” he said, barely keeping the panic out of his voice, “Lieutenant Haythe and the others are just over this hill.”
+As he scrambled over the edge of the snowdrift, Kesh started to wave to Lieutenant Haythe, who was examining the ruined remains of the colony’s HAB.
+“Lieutenant!” he began, shouting to get Haythe’s attention, “There’s raiders! Two of them!” As Kesh finished, Lieutenant Haythe turned to look at him. As he was about to respond, a wailing bolt of plasma hurtled through the air, striking the Lieutenant in the heart, as dozens more raiders began to emerge from the snow. Caught off guard, the soldiers rose from their places around the ruined HAB, frantically trying to organize themselves as shots began to fill the frigid air.
+Kesh’s eyes went wide as he saw Lieutenant Haythe’s body hit the ground, unmoving. He sat, frozen, before he felt Sorne’s hand grab him by the collar and pull him over the snowdrift. The soldier dove into the thick snow, and began to drag himself through the icy ground, towards the lander that sat just past the ruined HAB. Kesh felt his heart pounding in his chest, but slowly followed Sorne, crawling on his belly. Plasma flew past overhead, and the raiders continued to advance.
+Sorne clambered up the lander’s ramp and ran to the ship’s controls, before Kesh pulled himself into the lander’s interior. Sorne cursed under his breath. “By the Omen, why do these ships all have incomprehensible controls?” He grumbled. Kesh thought back to his time spent aboard the exploratory ship. He had learned how to pilot one of the ship’s sample-gathering ships up there. Surely a lander wasn’t too different.
+Hesitantly, Kesh spoke up. “I can fly it, I think.” Sorne gave him a skeptical look but stepped aside to allow Kesh access to the control. Hesitantly, Kesh started the engines, kicking snow into the air, and the ship slowly lifted a few off the ground. The ship’s viewing hatch slid open, revealing that raiders and League soldiers alike were staring at the vehicle as it slowly ascended. The raiders, shrugging off their surprise, began to open fire on the lander, but the plasma had little effect on the ship’s armor plates. Kesh tightly gripped the ship’s control sticks, which sent beams of energy sputtering out of the lander’s cannons. In the single volley, at least a third of the raiders were slain. The rest fled for the snow-covered hills, as the League soldiers raised their rifles in salute to Kesh, cheering.
+Kesh sank into the pilot’s chair, relieved. “Dear Omen,” he sighed, “I hope I never see this planet’s surface again.”
+''End''
 ----Graham S. lives in Africa, in the Democratic Republic of Congo. He has been studying at Northstar for two years and is in tenth grade. He enjoys reading, writing, video games, Dungeons and Dragons, and Warhammer 40k. He hopes to one day be an author but currently is enjoying being a journalist for the ''Navigator''.
 [[Category:Short Stories]]