It was hard not to hear the lander as it roared towards them; it sounded like the entire atmosphere was ripping itself to shreds as the ugly little shuttle fell towards the ground, its heat shield reflecting enough light to look like a miniature sun. For a split second, Asadi wondered whether she and Corradi should be moving, in case the shuttle landed on them. Realizing that they had equal chance of getting squashed no matter where they were, she sighed and murmured a quick prayer. After all this effort to stay alive, being crushed by their own rescue team seemed like a stupid way to die.

Either Allah heard her prayers or she wasn’t in much danger to begin with, because the shuttle crashed down on the opposite side of the dome. Shaking her head at the inconvenience, she woke up Corradi and checked her pistol.

“We’re going for it?” Corradi asked.

“Why shouldn’t we?” Asadi asked back. “It’s either that or take our chances waiting.”

Corradi looked content to take his chances waiting (and napping), but he nodded nonetheless. After checking to make sure they were clear, Asadi led the way, sticking to the treeline as they walked in a big circle around the dome.

“hundred-seven years.”

Asadi turned around.

“What?”

“I left home one hundred-seven years ago,” Mark replied, shaking his head. “Would I even recognize it?”

“It’s a lot cleaner,” Asadi said, doing her best to dodge the question. She needed him to concentrate on not getting shot. Worrying about how much things had changed could wait until after they were back on the Galaxie.

“One hundred-seven years,” Corradi muttered again. “Jesus.”

They walked in silence for another minute, until Asadi sensed movement out of the corner of her eye. Motioning for Corradi to do the same, she spun around to identify the source of the movement, dropping to a crouch and drawing her weapon as she did so. A quick glance confirmed they were about halfway to the lander.

“Keep moving,” Asadi whispered, her gaze sweeping across the forest. She didn’t see anyone, but she didn’t doubt for a second that they were out there. “Slowly and quietly.”

Corradi nodded, and led the way forward with small, cautious steps that made Asadi wince every time they brushed a stray bit of moss or crunched on a fallen fern leaf. As he searched in front she covered their backs, alert for any signs of movement. Occasionally she’d spot a flicker of motion, usually a bush rustling or leaves blowing in the slight breeze. She felt lucky to hear anything, given how her heart was pounding like a bass drum.

She didn’t realize her mistake until a few minutes later, and cursed herself when she did. Asadi was searching the woods well, but her gaze remained at eye level. It was a common mistake, and one that the Honraxi exploited.

The neon-green energy bolt whizzed past Asadi’s head and crashed into a fern a few feet to her left. The plant exploded, sending fiery debris out in all directions in addition to a shockwave that threw her to the ground. After remembering how to breathe (she’d been hurled straight into a rock), she fired up into the trees, not aiming for anything in particular. Corradi did the same, and together they raked across the canopy, hoping to hit something. After a moment they did; one of the Honraxi fell out of a fern, burns on their chest and shoulders. In response, the enemy fire redoubled.

“Run!” Asadi yelled over the chaos. Corradi didn’t need to be told twice; he forged ahead, ducking behind cover and firing a few return shots whenever he could. Asadi did the same, and together they leapfrogged towards the lander.

Then the plasma bolts started to come from all directions, flying over their heads and slamming into boulders and ferns. Growling to herself, Asadi ducked behind a boulder. After realizing that her beam pistol was at half-charge, she stopped firing blind and switched to precision targeting. Lean out from behind cover, sight target, duck back behind. Then lean out again, fire, then duck back. Lather, rinse, and repeat.

But it was a losing battle. They were behind cover for now, but Asadi knew the Honraxi would continue to close in on them. It was just a matter of time.

“Ah…GOD!” Corradi yelled, clutching his chest and ducking back behind cover, a fern about six feet away from Asadi. The commander turned around in time to see him glance at the new, smoking hole in his chest. He forced his eyes shut, then shook his head in an effort to dispel the pain. When it inevitably didn’t work, he gave a small shrug to Asadi and tore off a piece of his sleeve to cover it. The heat from the energy bolt had cauterized the wound, meaning it wouldn’t bleed for a few more hours. Which was good, because they had far more immediate concerns.

She wasn’t quite sure whether the heat of the Honraxi weapons were getting to her, but she began to hear the sharp crack of disruptors in addition to the low hum of whatever form of energy the Honraxi were using. Who else was out there?

Her question was answered when a pair of humans appeared and took cover next to them. One of them she recognized as Lieutenant Buchanan, a stern-faced tactical officer who she remembered as humorless. Not that it mattered now, of course.

“Buchanan to Denys,” the officer said into his comm. “We’ve got a firefight at zero-one-five mark two-three. I count eight of the natives, at least three more are probably hiding in the trees. Corradi is wounded and needs help. Send backup, I repeat send backup.” Then Buchanan turned to Asadi.

“You hurt?” he asked, not like a caregiver but like someone who didn’t want to carry anyone back to the lander. When she shook her head, Buchanan nodded his relief and resumed firing. The translucent glow of disruptor fire started to replace the energy bolts of the Honraxi weapons as another pair of Galaxie crewmen arrived on the scene.

“Alright,” Buchanan barked. “Time to move!”

Asadi didn’t need to be told twice; trusting the others to provide covering fire, she stood up and sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her, stumbling over moss and boulders but still managing to stay on her feet. Behind her she could hear shouts as the fight intensified, the hum of Honraxi weapons once more echoing through the forest.

After what felt like an eternity of running she saw the lander, and took back everything she said about its ugliness. Then she turned around in time to see Buchanan run past, Corradi slung over his shoulder and screaming obscenities back at the Honraxi. Farther back, three crewmen held the Honraxi at bay, sweeping pale blue disruptor fire across the forest and the clearing next to it.

“Commander!”

It was Denys, his short legs almost lost among the undergrowth as the sarvolyan raced toward her. Once he got close he stopped, giving her a once over to presumably check for any injuries. When he found none, he shook his head and chuckled a little.

“Well done Commander,” he said. “Well done. Get in the shuttle; I’ll treat your jammed shoulder back on the ship. Good to see you again,” he added, giving a wry smile. Asadi returned it, then continued her run to the shuttle at a less panicked pace. It wouldn’t last long.

“Get down!” someone yelled. Adrenaline coursing through her once again, she hit the ground as instructed, hearing some whistling that sounded like the Honraxi language. It was coming from the wrong direction… then she realized something. Corradi had mentioned two exits. There must’ve been two teams.

“We’re being flanked!” she yelled, for all the good that it’d do. She was caught in fairly open ground, without any nearby cover to shelter behind. If she rose to shoot, she’d be an easy target. So she settled for the next-best thing, starting to crawl to cover, praying with what little conscious thought she had that they didn’t see her.

If they didn’t see her, they certainly saw Denys. Unlike her, he didn’t take cover, instead turning around and leveling his pistol at the nearest Honraxi. The chrome-plated weapon wasn’t a disruptor; the bolts it fired were hot pink, like deadly flowers as they zipped to their targets. Two Honraxi went down, their mud-colored scales paling as the bolts seemed to spread across their body upon impact.

Denys continued firing, gesturing with his free hand for Asadi to keep moving. Nodding back even though he wasn’t looking at her, she continued her crawl back to the lander. Fifty feet now… so close.

She heard a dull thud from behind her, and turned around in time to see… nothing. Chalking it up to nerves, she resumed crawling, then stopped.. Where was Denys? She crept over to where Denys was a moment ago, hearing several low hisses that sounded like pants.

Asadi found the sarvolyan lying in a thick copse of undergrowth, his gunpowder-gray scales almost masking the smoldering hole in his back. Upon seeing her, the doctor gave a wan smile and shrugged a little.

“Serves me right for not…for not taking cover,” Denys said, clearly fighting to keep his breathing even. “You carry, I shoot?”

“Of course,” Asadi said, rising to a crouch and slinging him over her shoulder. Around her, the last pair of crewmen were making a fighting retreat as the lander prepared for launch. Trusting them to provide most of the cover, she took off again, trying to make the ride as smooth for Denys as possible.

“And there’s four,” Denys muttered to himself, bucking slightly from the recoil of his pistol. “And there’s five and six and seven--owowow that hurts.”

Ignoring him, she sprinted the last few feet, nearly tripping into the lander as she entered. She deposited Denys on the seat next to her, then buckled her seatbelt and looked around. Corradi sat across from her; he didn't look good, his skin as pale as the cryo-tubed Honraxi and sweating like a pig. Apart from him and Denys, everyone else seemed unhurt.

“We ready to go back there?” a pilot called. Denys glanced around, then nodded.

“Let’s go,” he replied.