—UNABLE TO COMPLY?—
There’s another flash of green.
“They’re shooting at us!” screams Reema.
“No!” I shout back, bumping against the bulkhead. “They’re slowing us down!”
The nose lurches sideways. My vision tunnels to a pinprick. Blood rushes from my head to my toes and back again.
We bounce like crash dummies inside our belts. The harness across my chest digs so deep it feels like it’s trying to unzip me.
Then—zero gravity.
Weightless.
Then the floor punches back. My skull snaps forward, then back. My body’s still here. That’s the only confirmation I get.
The shuttle rips open, and forthe first timein my life, I see immense trees and a vast jungle.
I hope it’s not the last time.
I come to with a ringing in my ears,feeling like the whole evacuation was just a bad dream.
Then I realize we’ve landed on Xytheos, and the nightmare’s not over. It’s just changed shape. For a few seconds, I just lie there and listen as the ringing fades.
Everything is so quiet that I might be the only one alive. But someone next to me is breathing. I can feel it against my arm.
I force one eyelid open, dreading what I’m going to see.
I can’t see much. My vision’s doubled. Smudged. Like looking through water. I blink. Doesn’t help. The air smells like fresh dirt and something coppery. I touch my tongue to my teeth, counting. All present. Small victories.
My training kicks in. Fixing myself, Maya, and Dr. Patel is the priority, because we’re the ones who can fix the others. I inhale slowly. Then, I wiggle my toes. They respond—tight, twitchy, but functional. I grope in the medkit strapped to me, pull out a tool,and run a quick scan on my head. The world smudges and clears in a flash.
The world beyond my crash belt is wreckage. Ceiling panels and cables hang. A beam folded in on itself like origami.
Dr. Patel is already moving, professional calm kicking in. She’s barking orders, and Maya’s beside her in an instant. They both spot me and call to me in unison, “Elena!”
I follow without thinking, doing what we did for years during the war on New Terra. Fix bodies first. Panic later.
We check pulses, pupils, breathing.
It’s ugly, but minor for a crash landing. Bruises. Blood. Burns. It could be so much worse. We evacuate from the wreckage.
Outside the twisted hull, the world is alive. Everything moves. I’m not used to this. None of us is used to this.
The green vegetation is so dense it hurts to look at. Back on New Terra, we lived underground most of the time—safer that way. Easier to stay hidden in a universe full of people who want human women for more than conversation.
It’s not that I don’t like nature—it’s more like nature and I don’t really know each other. We’re getting acquainted fast. This place is like stepping inside a myth. A dangerous one.
Dr. Patel, Maya, and I move woman by woman, patching wounds. Piper’s brow sealed with a strip. Reema’s got a head wound, but she’s lucid. Dana’s already sitting upright, cradling bloody knuckles. Everyone has at least one minor injury. Nothing unmanageable, though Dr. Patel is frowning more than I'd like.
When Dr. Patel gives the nod, I break off and head back to what’s left of the shuttle. The AI’s voice box is fried. It might still be running, but it's voiceless. That's nightmarish if I think about it, but I can't fix it without diagnostics. I can’t run diagnostics because the panels are fused, and the systems are melted.Surprisingly, we don’t have any fatalities, even though half the forward compartment is open to the elements. They built this ship to get out fast and keep us alive. It did that. But it’s not even useful as a shelter anymore.
There’s one last hope. This wreck can’t get us off Xytheos, but maybe we can call for help.
The emergency beacon’s not where it should be. Probably thrown during the crash. Three full minutes of digging, bare-handed, splinters slicing skin, fingers going raw, and there it is, under a tangle of seat frames and half-melted foam.
I slam my fist on the top panel, and the red light goes steady. That little beacon feels like a lifeline. A tether to someone, anyone from New Terra, who might still be out there.
