This is insane. The strange-looking creatures pour out of the oasis like a moving, screaming river of fur, claws, and rage. The cacophony is an assault on my ears. The fence around the camp collapses beneath their onslaught. They storm into the camp, and the Zzlo scramble to face their attack.

“Now,” Visidion says, rising and running forward.

His plan is obvious, and it is a brilliant distraction. The sounds of lasers zing from within the camp as the Zzlo organize. Our window of opportunity is small. Running side by side, we cross the fallen fence. The creatures are racing around attacking anything that gets in their way, building or Zzlo makes no difference. At the ramp of the ship the Zzlo are gathering to resist the invasion. They fire randomly into the crowd of attacking animals, dropping those they hit, but there are so many of them leaping around that the odds seem stacked against them.

Visidion leads the way to the shelter where we saw the captives. As we reach it a Zzlo steps around the corner, weapon at the ready.

“Hey!” Visidion yells, pulling the guards attention.

As he turns, Visidion swings, connecting with his jaw. A loud crack echoes as his fist hits. The Zzlo stumbles backwards. I step forward, drop, and sweep my right leg, taking his out from under him. He lands on his back, but his weapon fires as he does.

Visidion steps over him, opening the door to the shelter.

“No!” a female voice cries out, and something hits Visidion, forcing him to step back.

A man, haggard looking and too thin, attacks him. Slamming against him and trying to drive him back through force of will more than strength.

Visidion tries to get a hold on him without hurting him.

“Stop!” I order in Common.

The crazed man doesn’t listen, attacking with wild swings and kicks.

“Kill you!” he screams.

We don’t have time for this.

Stepping behind the man I hit him three times at strategic points causing the muscles of his arms to go numb effectively ending his assault without causing any lasting harm. He spins around, gnashing his teeth, then his eyes clear when he sees me.

“Lady General?” he asks, voice quavering.

“Stand down,” I order.

He instantly obeys, standing at attention with his numb arms limp at his side.

“Yes, Lady,” he responds.

I don’t recognize him immediately. He’s gaunt, hair grown long and wild, and there are heavy bruises and swelling on his face. It’s obvious that he was a soldier, though.

“Help us,” I order, and he nods weakly, obeying.

Visidion pulls the door to the shelter back open. Screams emerge again.

“Allow me,” I say, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Frowning, he nods, stepping aside to let me enter first.

Those inside look terrible, with obvious signs of neglect and abuse. Clothes shredded, dirty, underfed, and some of them barely alive, but there are a dozen of them, all human. They huddle together in the far corner, ten women and two men, not counting the one out front. They cower when Visidion steps in behind me.

“It’s fine,” I assure them. “He’s with me.”

They look at each other, fearful, cowed by their experiences.

“We need to go Rosalind, our distraction is dispersing,” Visidion says, urgency in his voice.

“Move, come with us,” I order.

Visidion steps back outside and I follow. The captives hesitate then come out after us. The noise of the animals attacking is quieting and there is only the occasional sizzle of Zzlo weapons firing. Visidion is right, we don’t have long.

“Name and rank,” I order the man who attacked Visidion, still standing where I’d left him.

“Lieutenant Draker, ma’am,” he answers.

“Right. Lead these people north, through the broken fence then march by the stars. Don’t stop until you see a massive cliff that dominates the horizon. You’ll see a man-made wall and others who look like him,” I nod at Visidion. “They will help you. Tell them I sent you.”

“Rosalind, what are you planning?” Visidion asks.

“We have to buy them time,” I answer him in Zmaj.

Visidion looks at the captives, a deep frown forming on his lips, then he nods.

“Right,” he says, resigning himself, knowing without saying it that this is a bad idea.

The captives move like a herd of wounded animals. Huddling tight together, moving as if in slow motion. Closing my eyes, I count to five, then turn away from them. All I can do is give them a shot. The rest is up to them.

Scanning the camp, I see that the beast herd is retreating and a handful of Zzlo are following, shooting them. Their attention is focused on that threat, and no one has yet noticed we’ve set their captives free. The ship is an open target, and I only see a single guard at the ramp. Visidion follows my gaze and hisses.

“Bold,” he says.

Grinning, I shrug and then crouch to move forward quickly. The odds of our success are so low as to be minuscule, but if it works it will turn the tide in our favor.

Visidion runs at my side. Hiding behind a stack of crates, I look the area over again. The guard is standing at the top of the ramp with his attention on what his fellows are doing against the majmun. I sift through the sand until I find a rock. I throw it, putting all I have into it. It sails up and over, clacking on the far side of the ship.

The guard turns towards it, and Visidion runs up, grabbing him in a choke hold. The guard struggles, but the larger Zmaj has him, keeping him silent by cutting off his air. Visidion drags him up the ramp and out of sight. Staying low, I race up the ramp and join him inside the ship.

It’s an open cargo area, much as I expected. Crates are fastened to the floors and walls with straps as they prepare for takeoff. Stairs lead up to a catwalk that crisscrosses the area. The only door out seems to be on the second tier.

“What now?” Visidion asks.

“Know how to fly a ship?” I grin.

“No,” he shakes his head, then his eyes widen as comprehension dawns on him. “You can’t be serious?”

“Why not?”

His mouth drops open, and he looks like he’s about to protest, but then it snaps shut and he shrugs.

“Right,” he agrees.

We make our way up the catwalk towards the door. The design of the ship is unfamiliar to me, of course, but ships are ships, and I know the technology intimately. Space is at a premium in a spaceship of any size. The design always follows the logic of that overriding rule.

When we reach the door further into the ship, I stop and try to figure out the panel. It’s similar to the ones on the generation ship, but different enough that I’m not sure how to work it. I try every idea I can think of with Visidion looming over my shoulder.

“Bah,” he exclaims, his fist flying over my shoulder and smashing the control panel.

Glass breaks, wires hang loose, and sparks fly but the door slides open. All I can do is stare, but he shrugs, grinning.

We make our way into the ship, following the tight passages, passing doors to rooms until we come to a crossroads and have to choose. The path to the left ends with a ladder, so I choose it, certain that the bridge has to be up.

The ship is quiet, too quiet. I find it hard to believe we haven’t come across any of the Zzlo yet. My skin crawls and the hairs on my arms stand on end, as I get the distinct feeling we’re walking into a trap. Pausing the forward advance and looking over my shoulder at Visidion, I arch an eyebrow. He shakes his head, lips pursed, his concern obviously going in the same direction as mine.

Steeling my resolve, I push forward. We’ve come too far now to do anything else. My hands itch for a weapon, but we have what we have. The hall we’re in extends on for a few more yards then we’re at a T. Before I can glance around the corner, I hear a sound from the left. Both of us press flat to the wall. The sound of hard boots ringing against metal echo down the hall, coming closer. Counting the steps in time to my heart pounding in my chest, I wait until they come closer still. As I think they’re about to appear around the corner, I drop low, swinging my leg out and around, but Visidion is faster. His arm darts over my head around the corner. There’s a loud yelp as he grabs the Zzlo and jerks the alien towards him. Lifting the poor bastard clean off the floor, he slams him into the wall so hard the metal reverberates. The Zzlo’s head leaves an indentation as deep as the thickness of my thumb.

The Zzlo is limp in Visidion’s grasp. Visidion shakes him, I assume to make sure he’s really out, before grinning at me. Closing my eyes, I shake my head.

“We could have pumped him for information,” I observe.

“He’d have screamed,” Visdion says, practical if nothing else.

“I’m sure no one heard the entire ship ringing when you bounced his head off the wall,” I say wryly.

When Visidion looks at the indentation on the wall, his face falls and he shrugs.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “That could have been done better.”

“Take his weapons,” I say. “We might as well charge forward. Either this works, or we’re screwed.”

Visidion takes the gun off the limp body. He’s so broad chested that the gun looks tiny in his hands. Stepping around me, he stands in the T-cross and looks both ways before looking at me.

“I think left,” I say. “Hurry.”

He nods and heads that direction without another word.

Picking up the pace since we’re no longer concerned with being quiet, it’s a matter now of making it to the bridge before they can dig in or get reinforcements there. Visidion’s feet clang with every step, giving away our position, loud enough to cover the clack of my boots on the mesh steel floor. We make it to the end of this hall, and there’s another ladder. Visidion doesn’t bother with the rungs, crouching and leaping up to the next deck in an impressive display of strength and agility.

I take the more acceptable method of actually climbing the ladder, if for no other reason than I can’t leap eight feet into the air. This deck is open, a wide hallway that must be at least half the width of the ship itself that goes forward. There’s a double door to my left with markings. That should be our destination. Visidion moves towards it, and I follow. The hairs on the back of my neck are on end again. A last deep breath to calm the nerves. Visidion and I exchange a long look, then he smashes the control panel, and the doors slide open with a hiss.

I do a shoulder roll through the doors before they finish opening, landing in a crouch.

Bolts of electricity shoot over my head, and Visidion cries out in pain. There are five Zzlo under cover behind the flight console shooting at the door. They’re at least fifteen feet away and behind cover, while all I have is a smile and my bare hands to take on all five of them and their weapons.

“Run!” Visidion hisses, his voice echoing off the metal walls of the bridge.

I don’t know if he thinks I should run forward or run away. It doesn’t matter—there’s only one option, a full frontal assault.

Leaping up, I somersault forward then jump into a handspring to the right. I do cartwheels from that point forward until I’m past the end of the console they’re hiding behind. It’s not a matter of being pretty or showing off. The bolts they’re firing would stun me, and my gymnastics makes me an unpredictable target.

“ARRRGGHH!” Visidion yells, as I crouch to get my bearings.

They’re focusing on him. I don’t know how many hits he’s taken but he’s moving forward like Darth Vader at the end of Revenge of the Sith, screaming with both arms held out in front of him. He’s firing the two-handed rifle with one hand, not bothering to aim. The muscles of his chest and arms are spasming from all the electrical volts pumping through him, but he refuses to go down. My heart leaps into my throat seeing him in so much pain. I know he’s doing it for me, damn fool that he is.

This is the worst idea ever.

It’s all mine too, damn it.

I’m no better than one of those fool women in a romance novel. If someone was reading this as a story I’m sure they’d be screaming at the book what an idiot I was for walking into this. It’s always easier from the outside to see that someone is being too stupid to live than when you’re living it.

Desperate times and all that.

“Allons-y!” I yell, running forward.

The Zzloo closest to me turns, his gun dragging behind him. Dropping to my side, I slide into him feet-first.

As I slam into him, taking his legs out from under him, he falls into the one behind him. Two out, for the moment, but the first one and I are tangled together, and I can’t get free quick enough. He’s grunting and has somehow managed to hang onto his weapon.

“Rosalind!” Visidion roars over the sound of rifle fire and the struggle of bodies.

A crashing sound jerks my attention up in time to see Visidion land on top of the flight console. One massive hand grabs a Zzlo by the head. He tries to lift but three more bolts of electricity hit him from the side. His muscles spasm, and he loses his grip. His eyes lock with mine, and in that moment the deepest sense of loss I’ve felt since I rode the ship down to this planet opens up in my core and swallows the world around me. He reaches for me, his hand jerking uncontrollably. Convulsions take over his entire body. He goes rigid, straightening up to his full height, and then he falls backwards off the control panel landing with a bang that breaks my heart.

“Visidion!” his name rips out of my throat, tearing tissue with the force of it.

Grief and rage pour out in the syllables of his name. Pain in my chest, something ripping apart.

I kick my way free of the bastard that I’m tangled with and I plant my boot in his face. Something crunches and a dark, almost black blood runs down his face.

Rolling backwards, I get to my feet, low, then leap forward into the Zzlo rising behind the one whose face I just broke. I drive my shoulder into his neck until he falls back under the force, and I hear him trying to gasp in air. I don’t know their anatomy, but it’s similar enough to human to know that they need to breathe and the throat is the passage for air. His trachea is collapsed, so good luck with that, buddy.

Three remain. Things are happening so fast that they’re only now taking their attention from Visidion.

A glimmer of hope alights deep in my core. A chance, small, but it’s there.

The closest one of them turns, time is moving in slow motion, he turns, and I’m kicking at his knee in the same, stop-action motion. Before my boot reaches his knee pain blossoms like a delicate flower in my left side. Shockingly cold and numb until the petals open and my nervous system explodes. Convulsing, with one foot on the ground and the other swinging through air, I lose my balance.

When I land on my back, the air is knocked out of me as a fresh bout of numbing pain starts in my right thigh. My head bounces off the metal floor, more than once, as I struggle to take control of my body, but I’m betrayed. Control has been taken away. It’s too hard to think.

Through my uncontrollably blinking eyes, the last thing I see is three Zzlo standing over me, dark rifles pointing down. They fire as one.