Spoiler: Anika Only
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As the others charged out into the snow, Anika was able to take a moment to scoop the shards and fragments into a bag. The box would be trickier - it was stuck in the ice, and the locking mechanism was some complicated alien thing that she didn't know how to open. It looked like it was made out of a sort of plastic, layered silica or something similar. Chipping the box out of the ice whole and tossing it in the bag was much faster than trying to get it open. For now.


Anika was behind the others as they ran towards the sounds of fighting, arriving last. The shuttle had skipped along the ground, carving deep furroughs in the ice before coming to a stop. It was torn open in a couple of places, the hull smashed in by the force of the landing. The cockpit had been crushed, the canopy shattered, and the ice around the front stained red. One of the wings had torn off, its pieces scattered across the surface. The men that had been inside were dug in around the wreckage, firing their guns into the storm. At first, Macharius couldn't see what they were shooting at.

Felidae could, though. The sensor systems in her helmet included thermal, which turned the image of the battlefield from one of whites and greys with the rare splash of colour to one dominated by deep blue. The ruined shuttle was an angry red splotch, the flaming wreckage scattered about ranging from orange to rapidly cooling yellow. In and around the shuttle, darting out of the storm to attack, were the creatures.

To Felidae and Anika, looking at them through thermal images, they were oddly-shaped blobs of heat, lean and hunched. To the others, they were like ghosts. Hard to see in the storm, translucent, pale. They had large, bulbous yellow eyes and wide mouths filled with too many teeth. Patches of phosphorescene ran along their backs, and their arms ended in clawed hands. Some carried weapons, pistols or short blades of alien design, but others were unarmed, instead slashing with their claws or snapping their large jaws at their opponents. There weren't many - a dozen or so, though it was difficult to get an accurate count with how fast they were. As they watched, one of the Absalom Marines stopped firing, lowering his shotgun to reload. One of the creatures charged forwards, leaping his cover and bowling the man over. His scream was cut off as it lowered its head, tearing at his neck and chest with teeth and claws. The other marines turned, a combined volley of fire turning the horrible xenos into gobbets of translucent flesh.