And there I ran, quickly as I could, pulling one leg past the other with dizzying speed. Fallen trees and low-lying shrubs were but minor obstacles, as I could easily see whatever lay before me and hurdle it with ease.

The narrow path, while hardly a path at all, was littered from side to side with tall, mossy trees. The thick canopy above became less and less visible as I drove farther and farther into the dark forest. The sky was blotted out until all that was left was the faint glow of daylight, and soon enough that began to fade. My hopes did not begin to fade with it, but my speed did. With difficult terrain and a badly injured arm, I soon grew weak and weary, and my legs became heavy with fatigue.

My entire body tiring quickly, I continued to run. It now required mental as well as physical effort to raise each leg and arm, and seemingly to draw each breath. Energy and awareness left me with every exhale, and I soon stumbled.

Devoid of energy, I had no chance to catch myself. My neck jarred from side to side as I keeled over and hit the ground with a thump. Air rushed from my chest in a single whoosh. There I stayed, right in that position, for what felt like at least an hour, but could have been far more, or perhaps only minutes. I did not sleep, though, nor did I lost consciousness. I simply laid there, unable to move. Soon a warm sensation ran across my left side, and I realized that the wound must have reopened. The bandage would do little good if I had soaked through it. My only chance at survival would be to press on, or else bleed to death.

Using my good arm, I pushed myself onto my back, and then tore loose my left sleeve. I then proceeded to remove the bandage. Placing the torn cloth from my shirt slightly above the open wound, I covered the bare flesh. I then pulled my belt loose and wrapped it tightly around my arm, then I pulled it taunt until the blood flow slowed. I would have to get this taken care of once I reached the ship. Although bleeding to death is an immediate problem, gangrene is always a long-term worry if this doesn't heal properly.

Trying to use my legs and my healthy arm as much as possible, I managed to reach a standing position. My legs wobbled and my vision threatened to leave me, but I regained my balance quickly. Cradling my injury, I looked around, trying to find the path, but to no avail. After a few minutes of close inspection, I found my footprints and returned to my walk.

Somewhat more slowly this time, I walked on. My arm's heavy throbbing had nearly ceased, and though the arm was blood-soaked, the majority of my bleeding had stopped. And so I walked until I could hardly see the trees to my sides and in front of me. Taking small steps, I managed to stay upright.

And so I walked for what seemed to be an eternity until I stopped in my tracks. Up ahead was a bright light, swinging back and forth rhythmically. The landing pad, I realized, must be ahead. In spite of my earlier difficulties, I hastened my pace a bit. If what I was seeing was accurate, and the pads are actually ahead, then I would be free of this world, once and for all. In a steady jog now, I approached the clearing of the trees.

Once I had passed the clearing I found myself on a section of the nearly barren landing area. No more than twenty meters away was the outline of the Vendetta, protruding from the flat surface. I approached it and climbed the stairs, only pausing at the top to present my hand in the identification slot. The door slid open with a hiss, and I entered the vessel.

A cool rush of air greeted me as I opened the inner hatch of the airlock. I swung he right and walked down the short passageway to the cockpit, where I was met by the ship's computer.

"Greetings, Captain Riprock."

"Greetings, Vendetta. About ready to get us out of here?"

"Whenever you are, Captain," the warm monotone replied. "I will begin protocol with the landing pad operator." There was a long pause.

"Problems?" I inquired, beginning to worry about my present safety after all.

"Perhaps. The central protocol system at the landing station is ordering us to wait for a cargo inspection team. Standard procedure, they say."

Not good news. "The hell with that. Get us out of here."

"Sir?"

"You heard me," I replied.

"But sir, although I am ordered to follow your commands I must advise you-"

I slowly reached towards the switch to deactivate the ship's artificial intelligence and rested my hand upon the panel.

The computer immediately changed its plans for our takeoff procedure. "Wait! Whatever you say. Beginning takeoff procedure."

"Warm up the weapons, if you would," I added after a moment.

"Far ahead of you, Captain," I was assured.

As the ship began to hover just above the ground in the first stage of the takeoff cycle, flashing red lights could be seen through the viewpanel. This did certainly not look good. A message came across the comm line.

"Vendetta, you are in breach of takeoff procedure. Deactivate your engines immediately or face the consequences," A deep, angry voice proclaimed over the speakers. I remained silent.

"Captain, disengage your takeoff cycle!" A tinge of fear arose within that voice.

Silence.

"This is your final warning. There are land patrol units being assigned to that site at this very moment. Shut down your engines!"

As if to confirm this, a single shot rung out, striking my hull. I was too low to raise shields. The armor would have to suffice for now. From what my ground-based sensors could tell, this was but the tip of the iceberg: a barrage of similar units was right behind this one. Hopefully they wouldn't get any closer, for their sake as well as ours.

As the main atmospheric engines finished the priming sequence, the ship began to float slowly upward, gaining enough altitude to start thrusters. Another shot was fired, then another. Thought small arms such as these would do little damage, the heavier machinery that was undoubtedly behind them would have the capability to severely damage or even destroy a ship such as this one.

The ground fell beneath my viewscreen as the Vendetta's main section lifted itself from its hovering position. The once immense landing pads became smaller and smaller, but we were not yet at a sufficient altititude to engage spacebound thrusters.

I was suddenly interrupted in mid-thought by a deafening roar of a ground-based laser cannon firing. Being propelled at such speeds while in the atmosphere could be potentially hazardous to the ship, and could cause great structural damage. The ship rocked to one side, and then the other, twisting and turning from the shock wave created by the cannon's pulse.

"Computer, activate the spacebound thrusters, and don't warn me of the-" Before I could finish I was interrupted by a deafening roar as air began to escape the ship. Though we were not yet out of the planet's atmosphere, the air pressure was low enough here to be a danger.

"The inner hull has been breached, captain. I suggest that you use the emergency equipment stored in the "

"Agreed." I ran to the storage room and retrieved a large box marked "Emergency Use Only". I suppose this would qualify as such. I opened it to find a suit within, which I did not hesitate to put on. I guess that "put on" was a bad explanation of what I did. In fact, it seemed more as if I was entering it. The suit stretched out to be nearly two and a half meters long, though once I was inside, it adjusted itself to my height and width. When it was fully on and adjusted, a HUD appeared in font of me.

Begin Sequence: Lemming Class EVA Unit...

Initiating ship's computer linkup...

Complete.

My lightheadedness disappearing slowly with the lack of oxygen, I walked back to the cockpit and sat down in the captain's chair. Through the viewscreen I saw that we were already nearing orbiting altitude, and that the planetary assail had not yet ended. "Computer, prepare to return fire. On my mark, fire a warning shot towards the most dangerous unit. If that doesn't stop them, we may have a bit of blood on our hands."

"Perhaps our own," the computer pointed out.

"Perhaps so, but that's no reason to be pessimistic about this." I gave a grim smile, knowing that I could very easily be wrong. There is a time for everything.

"We can debate this at a later time," the computer decided, swerving to avoid a shot, then shaking as the ship was pulled by the missile's wake. "Orbiting altitude reached, Captain."

"They're firing ground-to-air weaponry now," I observed. "Not a good sign." I knew from personal experience that such missiles, though too large and bulky to leave the atmosphere, could detonate at high enough altitudes as to mdamage orbiting ships. I wasn't out of the war-zone yet. "Computer, exit the planet's orbit at full speed and raise shields." It wouldn't be long until the fighters were deployed, and I knew we had to get out of here, fast.

"Engaging spacebound thrusters, pulling out of orbit," the computer's smooth voice informed me. "Although the emergency force-field has been activated, I suggest that you remain in your gear until we are completely out of danger. We should be at sufficient range for a hyperspace jump in T-minus thirty seconds."

"Excellent, take us out as soon as we reach jumping distance." Just as I finished speaking, a series of pounding explosions rocked the ship.

"Captain, we are being attacked by planetary defense forces."

"Just as I had expected. Cut the engines and make a one-hundred eighty degree turn at port. Prepare to fire primary weapons." As I completed my order, the ship swung hard to the left. Three Defenders appeared in front of me, amidst a storm of laser-fire.

Now facing the enemy, I reached for the manual controls and fired a long stream of proton bolts towards the center fighter. The blue, firey bolts tore away his shielding as he dove straight down to avoid my fire. His two wingmen broke off to the sides, then around me, trying to regain a lock on my aft, where they knew I was reduced to thinner armor and weaker shielding.

Pulling back on the control stick, I fired up the engines, then swung back down, swerving from left to right to avoid the bulk of their fire. I then cut the engines once again and turned to face them. Firing a stream of proton bolts into the lead ship, I finally tore through his shielding. The faint blue field around him collapsing, he pulled away just as smoke began to emerge from his engines. He ejected, leaving his ship behind to explode in a firey ball of light and debris. His accompanying ships scattered, not only in fear, but also because of the exploding ship's mild shockwave. I too, felt the blast from the vessel, though the Vendetta's course did not sway because of her relative bulk.

I suddenly realized something very, very important. I had left behind the cargo tank, which I could now see on my radar to be still in orbit of the planet. I readjusted my course towards Pegasus, ignoring the ships behind me other than to swerve occasionally so as to drop their lock. They regained it faster and faster each time I tried.

Though I neared the tanks more and more quickly, the stress caused by the knowledge that death was riding behind you soon became unbearable. "Computer, contact the storage tank's comm array and prepare it for docking. We need to get out of here as quickly as possible," I commanded, eyeing the shield level closely.

"Preparation complete. Should I take the helm for docking?"

"Yes, of course." I flipped the red switch to allow automatic control. The computer held a much steadier hand than I ever would.

The tank neared us bit by bit as we approached it, clamps open and ready to close down on the storage unit. As soon as we were just above it, they did just that. "Docking procedure complete. You may restore manual control." With this, I flipped the swtch back to manual position and took control of the maneuvering stick.

The sensor panel suddenly began to bleep once again. They had regained weapons lock on my aft and were swinging around to take aim. "Computer, rotate turrets and lock onto the nearest enemy vessel, then route turret control to helm." There was a high-pitched buzzing sound as the turret turned swiftly overhead. "Route lower-right screen portion to turret view." A quarter of the viewscreen suddenly blanked out, then reappeared as a view from the back. My crossheirs were targeted directly on the center ship's forward shields. I depressed the turret firing mechanism with my thumb and watched the long, green stream of laser-fire erupt from my turret. Wavering from the left to right, trying to compensate for the evasive maneuvers being performed by the Defender's pilot, the stream tore away the shields, bit by bit. He regained a lock and began firing his own short blasts, but it was too late. His shields collapsed with a flare of light and my stream of fire tore away at his thin layer of armor. With an explosion of orange flame, his ship's debris fell away into his wingman's ship, damaging it heavily.

His shields low and his company destroyed, the final Defender pulled around in a tight circle, retreating back to the planet's surface. "Captain, the last of the enemy units has retreated. It is recommended that we leave before reinforcements arrive."

"Agreed." I looked down at the display panel to realize that we were well past neccisary jumping distance. "Set a course for the Pelagon system," I said, remembering the man's words on Pegasus. "Engage hyperspace engines on my mark." I made one last check of the engine status and the inertial dampers, then strapped myself into the captain's chair. "Take us out." The interstellar engines roared to life, first humming louder and louder, then finally cracking with an ear-splitting pulse and settling down.

Unstrapping myself from the chair, I stood and sighed. It had been a long couple of days. I walked through the porthole and into the corridor beyond. I looked around, finally spotting the emergency storage unit. I opened it once again and rummaged through the equipment within, finally finding the subdermal regeneration device. Holding the small, metallic-gray device in my palm, I activated it and held it slightly above my wounded arm. The blinking green lights soon turned red as the wide beam fell across my arm. Only mildly aware of the stinging, I knew that this would stop any further bleeding. It may not be a quick fix for everything, but it would protect the arm long enough for the muscle tissue beneath to heal.

Once I felt that I had done a sufficient job, and the broken, torn skin had been reduced to a long, wide scar, I turned it off and set it back among the rest of the equipment. Rubbing my forehead slightly, I turned to the rejeuvenation chamber. "Computer, activate the sleeping chamber. Wake me when we arrive at our destination. Refuel when neccisary, but wake me if there are any difficulties whatsoever in the procedure." I inched towards the chamber, my eyelids held down as if by lead weights, and crawled inside. As I closed the glass door above me, I instantly fell asleep.

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