The creature in the chamber loomed over them, easily twice the size of a normal Scraegan, far larger than even an Alpha. Instead of the dark browns and charcoal blacks of its fellows, this monster sported a thick hide of silver fur that gleamed viciously in the burning light of the chamber. An extra pair of trunk-like arms curved out from its flanks, one clutching some kind of enormous lantern, and a huge golden chain dangling from the other. At the base of the chain loop a circle of silver the size of a dinner plate hung, emblazoned with an ink dark symbol that looked like a multi-headed serpent.

In its primary set of arms something altogether more frightening was held. The weapon was the length of a Hunter-Killer; a colossal mace forged of black metal, its head made up of a blizzard of serrated spikes. The monster took a step forward; hefting the mace high and unleashing a roar that made Ryke's earpiece crackle as the sheer volume was clipped off by the Hunter-Killer's auditory filters.

He waited for a second for orders to come through from Aggathor, but only static crackled in the earpiece. Brow furrowing in confusion, he instinctively stepped back from the gigantic Scraegan and glanced at his HUD. Amber light blinked on the indicator for his comm link – temporary system overload, rebooting in a matter of seconds.

Those seconds proved fatal.

With a second roar of indignant rage, the beast lunged forward and swung with shocking speed. That first swing of the mighty mace hit Aggathor's mech with the force of a bomb, breaking the colonel's shoulder shield in half and crushing into the vital mechanisms behind it. The comm blared back into life in time for strangled howl of pain to come tearing into Ryke's ear. Aggathor was thrown across the room as carelessly as a child might fling a doll, smashing into the far wall with a clang of shattered metal.

A moment of shock froze the remaining mechs in place until the huge Scraegan took a thunderous step forward, bellowing defiantly and rearing back for another swing.

"SCATTER!" another voice roared through the radio and he saw the mechs of HK-Warlock trying to put some space between them and the giant. The next swipe shattered the right side of one mech, the pilot a fraction too slow to move aside.

"All units open fire!"

Ryke's brain lurched back into gear. He dimly recognised the voice; it belonged to the lieutenant in HK-Warlock, Aggathor's battle-hardened second-in-command quickly taking control of the situation with their colonel out of action.

His cannon whirled into life and he strafed to the left, spraying armour piercing shots into the behemoth as it lashed out with feral fury at the metal bodies around it. HK-Rupture traversed the space with him, trying to edge towards the wall of the room and circle to the creature's flank, spitting fire as they went. The surviving mechs from HK-Warlock split apart leaping and diving to avoid the massive mace head that went cleaving through the air around them. Shots peppered the beast, taking chunks out of its thick hide, but it hardly noticed, the shells spiking it like meaningless pinpricks.

Suddenly the Scraegan wheeled around and charged, roaring defiantly as it lowered its head. His squadron tried to part around it, but two of them were right in the monster's path. Ryke could only watch helplessly, still pumping shots into the thing's hide as it thundered past.

In a Raptor mech, Scantlin El'Vahari just barely hurled himself clear. Shayse was not so lucky. A fraction slower in her bulky Riot pattern machine, she made it two steps before the Scraegan's enormous shoulder hit her dead centre and pulverised her mech against the solid rock.

Her scream was abruptly cut off.

Blood boiled in Ryke's ears as he stared. The Scraegan shook itself loose of the divot it had put in the wall, leaving behind the ruined, bloody carcass of Shayse Maloore's mech. The body plate of the Hunter-Killer had been completely caved in by the tremendous impact, crushed almost flat, and even from this distance he knew she would have been killed instantly.

And before he knew it, Ryke was charging at the Scraegan, shaking his warblade free with a wordless snarl of rage. Voices erupted in his ears but he ignored them, focusing on nothing but revenge. The towering creature rotated towards him, swinging out with its mace in a lazy arc.

Gritting his teeth, Ryke launched the Hunter-Killer sideways into a roll, passing under the colossal weapon and tumbling to his feet again. Toothed mechanical feet dug furrows in the rock, servos straining as he pushed his mech to its limit to power forward the final few yards. Screaming his defiance, his slammed his warblade up to its hilt in the thing's calf muscle.

The thick blade sank deep into the flesh, driven though leather-tough skin and slab-like muscle by the power of the Hunter-Killer. Ryke didn't stop there, however. He flung the full fifteen tons of his machine behind the blade, pushing it through to open a deep, wide gash in the creature's leg. Then the blade struck something – bone or maybe even tensed muscle.

With a wrenching clang the warblade snapped clean out of its housing, the mechanism giving out under the strain of opposing forces. Red warning lights blared across the display and Ryke pitched forward, his Hunter-Killer crashing into the dirt. Then an animal bellow filled his ears, this one different to the others. No longer rage; this was pain.

He scrambled back upright and turned to see the colossal Scraegan crunch down to one knee, thick blood spilling from a ragged gouge in its lower right leg. His blade was still lodged there, looking small and insignificant against the bulk of the creature but with most of its length buried in the Scraegan's body.

"Ryke, we have incoming!" Thaye's desperate yell of warning brought him back to focus and he looked back to his squad. The survivors had regrouped near the entrance but Scaegan packs were beginning to regroup, pushing into the chamber to defend their... whatever this thing was.

"HK-Warlock, prime nets!" the lieutenant roared over the radio. "This big bastard's coming home with us! HK-Rupture, run interference."

"Acknowledged," Ryke snapped breathlessly, heaving his mech clear of the flailing monster and glancing at his HUD to take stock. Scraegans were beginning to spill in from both sides, in small numbers for now but growing by the second. "Havoc, Deadbolt, on me. Haze, Sprocket, Gutz take the far entrance. Move and engage at will!"

Things moved too fast for Ryke to really stop and take it all in. Seconds after dishing out his commands he plunged back into the melee again, aching all over and drenched in sweat but still fighting. Without his warblade he lacked a certain amount of kill power, but the clenched fist of his Hunter-Killer's massive armoured gauntlet could still send a Scraegan reeling. Thaye formed the centre of their three mech defence, reserves of insane energy driving her on as she hurled herself onto the Scraegans, twisting and slashing at everything that moved, her mech's armour dented, scorched and lathered with blood.

What ammo they had left disappeared in a storm of suppressing fire as they raked the enemy line with armour piercing rounds, blowing chunks of armour and flesh across the stone around them. Scraegans hurled themselves forward unheeding, trying to pile through the chokepoint through sheer weight of numbers. With his shield in one hand, Ryke used it more as a weapon than a defensive tool, lashing thunderous blows in every direction

He chanced a look across to the far entrance where the other three Hunter-Killers battled to hold back the tide. Norville's Hunter-Killer bulldozed an enemy back into the wall with crushing force, clearing an opening for his companions to lay down a blanket of withering fire into the chokepoint. Stumbling free, he backed away unsteadily to join them, his mech's indicator now a bleeping mass of orange and red.

"HOLD!" Ryke screamed, shaking sweat from his eyes and sending a Scraegan tumbling with a bone-shattering uppercut. Two more came piling through the entrance but Thaye was on them before they reached him, twisting between their wild swings and slicing deftly with her blade to drag their attention to her. The glare of a furnace cannon shot exploded to his left and he saw Preese, his mech's left side smouldering with licking flames. The wall beside him was scorched with a huge black smear, and at his feet a Scraegan gurgled, its chest a ruin and cannon smoking viciously.

Hurry the hell up! Ryke thought, glancing over his shoulder at HK-Warlock's remaining members. They circled the wounded monster warily, still having to avoid barnstorming swipes from the enormous mace. It tried to haul itself upright, only to collapse to one knee with every attempt, bellows of frustration ringing through the comms and making Ryke's head throb painfully.

Two nets had already found their mark, however. The long barbs fired from the modified launchers pierced the thick hide of the creature, one snaring its shoulder and another biting into its right flank. Its movements gradually become more sluggish as the powerful toxin began to take effect.

A few seconds' later two more of the heavy metal nets thudded into the huge Scraegan, one in the back and the second wrapping around the thigh of its injured leg. The Hunter-Killers quickly backed away into a defensive circle, watching, waiting and praying.

At long last, with the inevitability of a collapsing building, the giant Scraegan finally pitched forward and hit the ground, shaking the entire chamber as it fell.

"Target down," said the breathless voice of the lieutenant.

That was all well and good, Ryke thought as he turned back to the melee, but they were still trapped in here. More Scraegans continued to pile in, their wounded comrades dragging themselves out of the way to make room for fresh packs. The Hunter-Killers of HK-Warlock added their fire to the desperate defence, charging to bolster the fraying line of defence that Ryke's troops had held for several punishing minutes. He tried to formulate some plan to get out of this, but everywhere he looked more Scraegans were trying to brute force their way into the chamber to protect their... leader, whatever it was.

Their only chance of survival would have been to abandon their quarry and try to punch a hole to escape in one big group. But if they left empty handed the whole operation would have been for nothing. He clenched his teeth, rattling the skull of another Scraegan with the rim of his shield as he tried to think.

At that moment, in a storm of steel and fire, the mechs from HK-Thresher and HK-Arcade finally arrived.

Depleted in number but still a very welcome sight, the two fresh squadrons tore through the Scraegan packs pressing into the chamber, hacking and blasting a ragged path to link up with their beleaguered comrades. The line of Hunter-Killer's thickened considerably and many Scraegans scattered in disarray, caught off guard by the sudden, vicious attack. He could still hear them snarling and barking their guttural language to each other in the passages, but for a blissful moment he let his leaden arms drop, taking a step back from the entrance.

"Sound off," he gasped.

Damage reports from the surviving squad members flew in. Norville's mech was barely functional now, edging itself along on reserve power, while Preese's left side sensor array was a mangled mess, leaving him partially blinded on that side. Armour integrity was strained across the board, the close quarters brawling putting the heavy plating of their war machines to the test.

"Lockjaw to Reaver," Ryke called to the lieutenant, the man's callsign shining on his HUD.

"Go ahead."

"Estimating HK-Rupture at seventy percent combat ineffective, sir. We can't stay here."

"We're not going anywhere without this sucker," the officer grated, a twinge of anger clear in his voice.

Ryke nodded. Despite his exhaustion the notion of going home empty handed made him feel physically sick.

"Copy that. It's too big for us to carry out of here. Request support from the Goliath contingent? They're spec'd for heavy loads. They could carry it out of here."

"Kid's not wrong," another member of HK-Warlock chimed in, her voice tight and hoarse. "Bring the heavies down and we can escort them out once they're loaded."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Reaver responded before his comm switched to the full wide band. "Reaver to SC-1, Tyrant is out of action; I am in operational command. Status report?"

"Scraegan force is thirty minutes out," Hackley snapped. If she was unnerved by the knowledge that Colonel Aggathor was out of the fight she didn't show it. "We need to withdraw. Did you find the Alpha?"

"We found something alright; subdued and ready for transit. Whatever it is, it's a lot bigger than we thought." There was a pause; a heavy breath over the comm. "We need four Goliaths down here to carry the load, ASAP. Dune, Griffon – you're up."

"Avalanche, Princess," Ryke panted into the comm before anyone else could interject. "Get your asses down here."

The four pilots send their responses in an instant, but Reaver wasn't finished dishing out commands, addressing the two units from the northern cities currently guarding the flats outside the mountain.

"HK-Corvak, keep running interference outside this rock. HK-Praxis, you are going to escort the Goliaths inside. Just follow the noise and the bodies."

The two inexperienced commanders acknowledged their orders, the woman in charge of HK-Praxis failing to hide her trepidation as she did so. No one baulked at their duty, however, and the extraction force set off. Now all they had to do was hold the chamber until the Goliaths arrived.

Ryke took a deep, steadying breath, swallowing a mouthful of warm, brackish water from the Hunter-Killer's inbuilt tube supply before trudging back into his space in the line. The roaring and snarling of the Scraegans filled the air and he saw furnace cannons boiling in the gloom.

"Defensive positions," Reaver bellowed.

"You heard him," Ryke spat to his squad mates, a swell of adrenaline coursing through his veins. "Let's give their friends some company by the River, eh?"