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fire rained down, riddling the enemy as they pressed forward. Jaxx grinned. Though he’d done nothing to make it happen, the Kelhoon were already on his side.

The battle raged all around them, giving Zara and Kiyo-zan enough cover to escape down a ravine. Kiyo-zan’s shield kept them safe from any errant shots. Zara dug her feet into the ground, trying to stall Kiyo-zan and get to Jaxx, but Kiyo-zan kept her moving.

Jaxx needed to be captured by the Kelhoon, and quickly. First, he had to get away from Taz. He pulled his gun close and slid along the side of the wall.

“No, you don’t,” said Taz, slamming Jaxx in the side with the butt of his weapon.

Jaxx absorbed the blow, grabbed Taz’s arm, and spun away, forcing Taz toward him. He let loose with an overhand punch, knocking Taz to the ground. He twisted around. Agadon were bearing down on them. He couldn’t stand and fight, not with those odds.

He turned and dashed toward the hill that led up to the gorge’s upper ridge, where the Kelhoon were busy popping shots off at the mass of oncoming Agadon warriors. He reached the base of a hill.

He ran with all his might, his feet sinking into the heavy snow. The Chi activated, this time without his conscious doing, and bounded him faster up the hill, taking long strides, placing each footstep perfectly on the ground like a snow leopard after its prey. Reaching the top, he found a throng of Kelhoon waiting for him, guns drawn.

He dropped his weapon and raised his hands.

A Kelhoon walked forward. The slitted pupils in the center of his eyes contracted. “Wokjaha Kaja.”

Jaxx put his hands out. The Kelhoon soldier reached behind his back, grabbing something from his satchel that was clipped to his belt. He pulled out two gold cuffs and slapped them on Jaxx’s wrists. The cuffs vibrated and an energetic chord shot out of each inner cuff, connecting together.

“Welcome, brother.”

Jaxx craned his neck, seeing his brother, Richard Fox, behind a gang of Kelhoon, a smirk on his face, a hateful gleam in his eyes.

9 E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

“They’re getting through the lines,” yelled a Marine running past Drew, alarms in the city blaring, making it very difficult to hear anything but the whining sounds.

Drew jumped to the ground, his eyes wide, his heart pumping. “What lines? Where are the lines?”

Bratatatatatat ratatatatat! Bratatatatatat ratatatatat!

Machine guns echoed at the edge of the city. People ran from bar or store to God-knows-where…probably to their homes. Drew, on the other hand, was out of luck. He had no home to go to.

“What are you doing? Get over here.” Megan waved him over to her bar.

Drew dashed her way.

Her face changed from fear to confusion. Her frown deepened and her forehead crinkled. “What are you doing?”

“You were calling for me to come over,” responded Drew, out of breath, his face flushed red.

She glanced at his gun and shook her head. “No. Not you. I was calling him.”

Drew looked over his shoulder. An older, bigger man ran in his direction. Drew glanced back at Megan, giving her a hopeful gaze.

She sighed, her breath forced, her hand pointing inside and to the back of the bar. “Alright… get your butt in there.” She opened the door wider, letting her friend barrel in, practically bulling Drew over.

“Go, go.” Megan pushed both Drew and her friend forward.

Drew followed the big man down the bar’s basement stairs. They ducked as they turned a corner down the staircase, reaching another set of stairs.

Cold, damp air hit him bringing with it the unmistakable stench of mildew. He heard a door shut, then a lock latch. For a second, everything was pitch dark, but Megan clicked on the bare bulb that hung overhead then pulled a rifle from the gun rack. She threw the rifle to her friend, who caught it, cocked it and wiped the sweat pouring off his face.

“Drew? Do you know how to use that gun? Because you’re holding it like a rookie,” said Megan.

Drew fidgeted with the gun, shaking his head. “I’m a novice.”

A static sound went through Drew’s ears. “You do as I say with that gun and everything will be fine,” came Drew’s mother. The static faded away.

Damn. There she was again.

Megan gestured to her friend. “Drew, meet Carl, Carl meet Drew.”

Drew’s face whitened. Was it the Carl? How had he missed that? He took a longer look at the guy, nodding his head in disaster. Of course, it was. “Hi, Carl. I think we’ve met.” He didn’t attempt any type of hand shake. The guy could rip him a new asshole if he wanted.

“You’re nice to me now, eh?” grumbled Carl, wiping more sweat off his face.

“From what I remember, you bumped into me earlier today, not the other way around.”

Carl took a step forward, fury in his eyes. The basement shook and dust fell from the ceiling. They all ducked, waiting for the place to come crashing down on their heads.

“Did they break through the city’s shield?” asked Drew.

“I don’t know.” Megan went to a closet. She pulled down a carton of bullets and handed them to Carl. He put his hand on it, but Megan held the carton tightly, forcing him to look at her. “You don’t get these until you play nice with our visitor. Understand?”

Carl bit his lip, considering his options. A dull explosion hit somewhere in the city and the basement shook a second time. He grabbed the bullets. “Got it.”

Megan pulled out a rifle, lifted the rifle’s bolt handle and pulled it to the rear.

Click!

She inserted a bullet and pressed it down with her thumb. Then another bullet, and another. She pushed the bolt handle forward.

Click!

She rotated the bolt handle down, producing another click.

She shut the closet and leaned against it. She tilted her head at Drew’s gun. “What kind of weapon is that?”

Drew rubbed the bottom of the magazine with his palm. “It’s a phaser. A Marine gave

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