Unsheathing his broadsword, an ornate behemoth named Calibos, Zoba quickly severed the remaining wing from the body of his sun glider, and with inhuman quickness leapt for the shimmering wing as it floated away from the craft, returning Calibos to its home on his back as he grabbed each end of the wing and pulled it into use as a makeshift parachute.
Since glider’s were not designed to travel more than 100 feet clear of the ground, Zoba only needed this slight delay in his speedy descent to allow himself to find a spot to land. A spanse of soft sand beckoned him vs. the surrounding rock. With his senses primed Zoba released the wing 10 feet from the ground, dropping Calibos from his back, and angled himself to roll upon impact. His feet struck first, and then with an instinctual reaction honed through years of training he leapt forward, tucking his body and somersaulting forward near 50 yards until his momentum finally slowed.
He stood quickly, instantly aware that he was not alone, and through shifting sands saw the bodies of 100 or more Velchurians rise from the dust. To reclaim Calibos he would have to go through them. The sharp cast of their eager smiles indicated they relished his effort.
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