"This way," Flint said. He led Melody, Chris, and Suzan through the streets, expertly dodging all the streets the ships seemed to be targeting. He barely seemed to be fazed by the people blasting his planet to pieces. Neither did Suzan, to be honest, but Chris assumed she was more concerned about the immediate danger of her brother dying from his injury than the rest of them getting shot to ribbons.

Chris, for her part, was just trying to keep Melody safe. Every time she heard one of the ships fire, she flinched and did her best to conceal Melody with her own body. The doctor was trembling, terrified, and Chris pulled her along by her arm, practically dragging her. No matter how scared Melody got, Chris was not leaving her behind.

A ship flew uncomfortably close over their heads, causing all of them—aside from Flint—to duck down. Melody gave a whimper, covering her head, but Chris towed her along. They hadn't been shot, they were still alive, they had to keep going. And she did; she kept dragging her sister along, no matter how much it might be hurting her arm, no matter how much Melody cried. Because pain and discomfort were much better than one of those ships marking the girl as a target and tearing her to pieces.

Corpses littered the roads. Buildings collapsed around them, puffing up smoke and fire like volcanoes. Smoke was everywhere, up in the sky, forming clouds and haze. Ashes flecked Melody's hair and covered Suzan's lab coat. Flint kept walking, undisturbed by flames and smoke, giving no signs of tiring even with Xander held in his arms. The security officer hadn't made a sound, probably still thoroughly unconscious. Chris tried not to think that it might be the alternative—that he was dead, not unconscious. Surely Flint would have mentioned if Xander had died in his arms.

"Here." Flint's voice cut through the chaos of explosions and gunfire around them. He was motioning to a small opening in the street, holding the door open for them.

"That's the entrance to the hospital?" Suzan asked, disbelieving.

Flint gave her an annoyed look. "If it was above ground, it would be turned to ash by now," he said. "This planet's been attacked by space pirates before, you know."

Suitably chastised, Suzan fell silent. Flint went in first and Suzan followed at his heels, unwilling to let her brother out of her sight for more than a few seconds, probably. Holding Melody by her shoulders, Chris and her sister went through at the same time. Chris paused only briefly at the door to tug it closed, leaving the destruction and death behind them.

. . . . . . . . .

"VEERNA!" Yulia screamed, instinctively latching onto Don's sleeve. Blinded by the explosion and the rubble that was sent flying, he could do little but cover his eyes and wait until he could see again.

When the dust finally settled, Don made out a crumpled form in the streets. His heart seemed to enter his throat as he shoved Yulia behind some of the rubble and ran out onto the streets. He ignored the ships flying overhead as he sprinted to Veerna's side, falling onto his knees when he came to her.

Black blood covered her body. The ugly charred brand on her neck was flaking and bleeding, her clothes ripped. But she groaned when Don laid his hand on her shoulder, and he breathed a quick prayer of thanks. "Veerna, wake up. We need you. Veerna!"

The Voldinian didn't respond. She was out cold, likely from the blood caked on her forehead. Could nothing be easy? Grunting from exertion, Don put his arm under her knees and armpits and lifted her up, cradling her like a child. She gave a small huffing sound, as if she was annoyed with him, but didn't wake.

Moving awkwardly from his burden, Don made his way back to Yulia. The little girl was cowering behind the rubble, but she did look up when he crouched beside her. "Can you move Veerna's head to my shoulder?" he asked.

Reluctantly, Yulia put one gloved hand on Veerna's cheek and nudged her head onto his shoulder. It took a great deal of effort for Don to stand up straight afterwards, not really used to carrying such a heavy load. Although Veerna didn't look like she'd weigh a lot, she had to be at least a hundred and fifty pounds.

Another bomb exploded near them, sending Yulia ducking down again. A piece of rubble cut into Don's eyebrow and drew blood, but he forced himself to ignore the stinging pain. "We need to go," he told the girl, making his way toward the street again.

"Go?" Yulia said weakly. "Go where?"

"To the security base," Don answered, forcing himself to sound far more confident than he actually felt. "We need to finish the mission Veerna told us to, or the others could be in danger."

"But if we leave, we'll be in danger," Yulia protested.

"If we stay, we'll still be in danger," Don said. "I'm sorry, Yulia, but no matter what we do, we could die. I'd rather try and save these people ... this planet ... if I can."

"You don't understand," the girl pleaded, tears forming in her eyes. "Please, you can't save them. It's already too late!"

Don gaped at her, trying to wrap his head around what she was telling him. In truth, he was clueless. What could she be talking about?

Before he could determine what she meant, the sound of an approaching ship made him spin around. It was hovering behind them, guns aimed at them, its intention clear. Don reacted out of instinct. He shoved Yulia in front of him and yelled, "Run!" The young Atonian sprinted from her position like a frightened rabbit. Don did his best to keep up, but Veerna felt like a deadweight in his arms. Her arm dangled out of his grasp, swinging back and forth like a grotesque rag doll.

The ship opened fire behind them. Don ducked around the corner just as the bullets tore apart the side of the building he'd run past. Yulia cried out, but he just shouted at her. "Keep going! Don't look back, just keep running!"

He had to wonder if the Atonian was more scared of him or the ship that was still demolishing the building behind them, trying to clear a path to chase after them. Whatever the case, Yulia kept running, her indigo hair flowing out like a sheet behind her. Don followed, his arms as heavy as lead, his legs aching. Physical exertion had not been on his resume to become a psychologist. But, since it was either keep going or die, he chose the former. For himself and for Veerna. He would not let the space pirate die in the destroyed planet.

An idea sprang to his mind. The end of the street was still over fifty paces away, and this part of the city didn't have as much rubble as the rest. There were few places to hide, and all of those would be demolished in an instant. However, Veerna still had her gun ...

He dumped the Voldinian down on the ground and grabbed her gun from her holster. "Pull her behind that pile," he ordered Yulia, indicating a spot out of the way. He had little faith that the petite Atonian could do so, but he had to try.

Once Veerna and Yulia had been taken care of in his mind, Don turned back to the street's entrance, where the ship would be coming. His heart raced and felt like it was slowly crawling up to his throat, but he forced his shaking hands forward, pointing the gun. "By the stars, I hope this works," he whispered. In his mind's eye, he tried to picture where the cockpit of the ship would be. He'd only get one chance. If he blew it, he would be standing in the middle of the street, unprotected. An easy target. I'm so dead. Strangely enough, the thought was comforting and eased his shaking hands.

Without warning, the ship came roaring around the corner. The guns tore into the ground, ripping up the street, fast approaching Don. He took a deep breath that caught in his throat, adjusted his aim a tiny bit, and fired.

. . . . . . . . . .

The tunnel to the hospital was freakishly quiet. Suzan found her breath catching in her throat, making odd rasping sounds as she walked. Melody's terrified sobs covered up Suzan's panic. As she walked, it was all too easy to picture the metal tunnel collapsing, burying them, suffocating them ...

The sounds of gunfire were still obvious above them. Explosions rocked the tunnel every now and again, threatening to tip them all over. The whole time, Suzan fought down panic and memories. The only light came from Flint, his shoulder lit up by flames. It cast eerie shadows around them, bouncing up and down around the walls and stretching their height.

Suzan barely saw them. Her mind was lost, to a moment years ago. Me and Xander, playing a game. Our parents, laughing, watching us. An explosion ... buried under the rubble ... smoke choking us ... fear ... pulled out days later. Parents didn't make it out ... The disjointed words were all she remembered. Xander had been nine; Suzan, six. Both suffered from massive problems of claustrophobia.

"Are we nearly there?" Chris's voice broke through both the silence and Suzan's train of thought. The sound seemed to echo all around them. From the ghastly pallor that had come over the captain's face, she was as anxious as Suzan felt.

Flint glanced back at them. "Nearly."

That wasn't exactly a helpful response. Suzan bit back a sarcastic retort, still harboring the fear that Flint might get tired of them and just drop Xander, leaving them. Abandoning them.

"Power's on down here." Flint's deep voice seemed to match the rumble of distant explosions above them. The further down they got, the more distant the sounds got, and Suzan was grateful for that. It helped to alleviate her terror that they might get buried at any moment.

The lights were on as the tunnel widened out. When they could see without his help, Flint doused the flames on his shoulders and strode forward purposefully, showing no signs of weakening from his burden. Suzan, on the other hand, was rapidly losing her energy and ability to move.

Finally, they reached a door. It was in a wide room, much bigger than the tunnel they'd been in before. Flint toed the door and it slid open, revealing an infirmary room. Melody shoved past them all, apparently feeling more comfortable now that they were in territory that she recognized.

However, her moment of confidence didn't last long. She let loose a piercing shriek, and Chris sprinted through the door. Suzan and Flint followed behind her, trying to see what had disturbed Melody so much.

Even Suzan felt ill when she saw what lay beyond. Every patient and doctor in the massive infirmary was on the floor or on the beds, strange black marks on all visible skin.

They were all dead.