“I can do that.” Ben.

Sam and Heaven ran to the woods and leaped over a fallen tree. An energy blast struck close behind them. A smoking tree cracked loudly and fell. Sam sat up and worked his jaw to restore hearing. Heaven rolled to her knees and shook her head. Even as she came to her feet, Sam took her elbow and pulled her into deeper cover. Sam spoke, but Heaven's head was ringing.

Sam looked up through the trees. The alien ship paused over their previous location to strafe the area with lesser fire. They would soon be over them, and Sam knew that a random pattern was the best defense. He released Heaven's arm and tapped his wrist comm.

“On my location!” said Sam.

A small voice returned. “Sir?”

“Get this bug ship off me!” said Sam, emphatically. “Now!”

Sam pulled Heaven in a new direction while taking a shot at the closing ship. Heaven fired her pulser as she ran. The voice returned over Sam's wrist comm.

“Sir. Tracking incoming ships,” said the voice. “Help is on the way.”

A massive blast uprooted trees behind them. Sam and Heaven turned immediately and ran back through settling splinters, leaves, and limbs. Sam knew his gun had little effect on the alien ship; still, he fired. It felt better than simply running. As the ship swung about, Sam pulled Heaven to the west. A major strike sent Sam and Heaven head over heels. Sam fetched up hard against a tree. Heaven was lost among spinning stars.

Sam instinctively rolled to his feet and drew a desperate breath into a bruised body. The pirini brought him up, and he was beginning to feel pain when the ship overhead exploded in a billow of black smoke and a shower of flaming bits. Sam hunkered behind a large tree as parts of the alien ship rained down. Then, he looked up and saw them; seven Orlainese fighters screaming over the tops of trees, going east to west.

Sam turned and stumbled through the abused woods. He took a deep breath and called out. “Heaven!”

“Here,” she answered. She was almost under his feet.

Sam fell to his knees and pulled Heaven to a sitting position. She was covered in small branches and loose leaves. Her top was in disrepair, a shoulder seam ripped. Sam saw no wounds and was heartened. As Heaven brushed away the unwanted detritus, Sam picked twigs from her disheveled hair.

Heaven asked, “You okay?”

Sam nodded, and with a pained smile, flicked away a small bit of wood. “We can stop running now,” said he.

The sound of ship-to-ship firing from the west caught their attention. Sam and Heaven set off through the vanquished woods. Survivors, they stepped, with a wary sigh, back into the open. Heaven pointed to the northwestern hills, just visible through the tree line, and they turned in that direction. Sam watched his ships in the western sky. They were mere dots. No stranger to dog fights, he trusted both his men and ships.

Sam turned to look at Heaven and noticed she, too, watched the western sky. She nodded an open question toward the distant fight. Sam was still in pain, he failed to smile, but assuaged her with a nod of his own.

Ben paced in his cell. Three steps to the crates. Three steps to the wall. He needed to get the heck out of Dodge. He raised his left hand to count on his fingers the reasons he needed to escape. One, freedom, always at the top of the list. Two, he would soon need to pee. Those were the pros.

He raised his right hand to count on his fingers the cons. One, the enemy had guns and all he had was a ripped shirt. He fingered the torn material and walked to the energy barrier. It just wasn't right. He had to say something. Sounds of the enemy were muffled and indistinct. He could hear but couldn't see them.

“Hey!” Ben called forcefully. “Why did you rip my shirt?”

Belebele skittered into sight, but instead of turning to face Ben, it simply turned its oddly shaped head to the side. “Gunlah heavy. Difficult to pull. Quiet, now. Must have vital confab with magnanimous Malmogat.”

“It's not right,” countered Ben. “It was new.”

Belebele turned to leave, stopping to raise a high arm. “Complain to diffals,” said the alien and walked out of view.

Ben leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. An idea came to him. Perhaps, he thought to himself, if he tossed his shirt through the barrier and covered one of the field generators, he might disrupt the field. Ben removed the shirt, then, stood close to the barrier and carefully took aim. He was quite pleased that he covered the generator on the first try because, obviously, there was no second chance. He reached out and touched the barrier; his finger returned stung.

Belebele appeared, took the shirt between diffals, and dropped it unceremoniously. “Failed attempt, gunlah,” said he. “You absolute test of patience.”

Jikza called in loud excitement, “We have them! Belebele, come!”

Belebele hurried away, leaving Ben to strain his senses. Skittering to Jikza's side, Belebele took the proffered handpiece and stood erect to speak. “Kivat Belebel and Kivat Jikza on command,” said Belebele. He turned to Jikza who nodded encouragement.

A rolling voice responded. “Disallowed conveyance,” said Malmogat in a disapproving tone. “You belong to,” there was a muffled pause, then, “ Lioba Zhajamal. Why bypass chain of command? Does young Kivat seek to lay down his head? I have many on my wall.”

Belebele's posture sagged for a moment, then he stood tall to answer. “Have in possession exceptional gift. Not wish to give name to Lioba Zhajamal. Give to M'd'ian Malmogat only. Effusive adulation to M'd'ian Malmogat; we hold gunlah captive.”

“Ah!” said Malmogat. The word rolled like distant thunder. “Wise Kivats. Give now. I will know him to the pith of his bones. I will taste his vitality. Well done, Kivats. You will have names. I will give advancements.”

“Effusive adulation, M'd'ian,” said an elated Belebele.

“Effusive adulation, M'd'ian,” said an excited Jikza.

Malmogat's authority rumbled through the handpiece like a peel of thunder. “Convey location. I will send M'd'ian Scout to receive. Deceive me, I will gnaw Kivat souls.”

The threat was real. Belebele dared not deceive the M'd'ian. He bowed before the communication spike; Jikza bowed beside him.  They risked a long and conscious death to go directly to Malmogat. Kowtowing, the Kivats answered with a bevy of, “Effusive adulation.”

Sam and Heaven were midway through the clearing, Heaven looked back to find Sam him watching the sky, his face darkened by concern. Heaven followed his line of sight. One of the alien fighters raced toward the clearing with an Orlainese fighter in hot pursuit.

The alien ship rolled and dove. It headed directly for Sam and Heaven. The Orlainese ship came in hot at the western end of the clearing, meters above the high grass. As both enemy and Orlainese fire rained down, Sam and Heaven leaped and rolled from the path of destruction. Plumes of grass and soil exploded into the air in two straight lines; Sam jumped to his feet and took shots at the alien craft as it banked north.

Heaven stood, slapping her clothes. “You know that does little good,” she said.

Sam paused and shrugged. “Target practice,” he replied.

Sam tapped his wrist comm. “Was that you, Olvae?” he asked.

A female voice answered through the comm. “Sir.”

Sam said, “Try to be more careful. You nearly shot us.”

“Sorry, sir,” said Olvae.

“Nice roll, by the way.” Sam looked at Heaven, covered his comm, and said with pride, “I taught her that.”

Olvae answered, “Thank you, sir.”

Heaven acknowledged Sam's pride with an impatient nod. She took a moment to watch the sky with Sam. Fighters circled high above the clearing like hawks on thermals. She had no time for this; Ben needed her.

She took Sam's hand and said, “Sam. Ben.”

Sam looked down at his hand. He took a deep breath as she withdrew, and said, “Right.”

They followed evidence of a body dragged through high grass. Silence was their conversation. It spoke of hope. It could well be that Ben was on a ship bound for the Sharantta home world. Heaven realized the possibility in her mind, but her heart refused to accept it.

The tree line drew closer, but Sam stopped to watch the sky. Heaven stopped to follow his gaze. Ships, engaged in life-and-death dogfights were at all points of the compass. Heaven saw an alien ship swell into a distant puff of smoke and fire. It was good, but she did not feel the satisfaction she saw on Sam's face.

Sam knew about dog fighting from personal experience. Satisfaction filled him with each downed alien ship. Pride brightened his outlook; pride and relief that not a single Orlainese, many of whom he had personally trained, had been shot down. His armies were the best in the galactic arm. No soul was as well trained in the art of war; none were as dedicated to victory as the Orlainese.

Two Orlainese fighters chased a lone alien ship; it was clearly out-maneuvered. The craft took multiple shots and the Orlainese banked away. The ship spiraled, trailing smoke, and fell toward the eastern end of the clearing. Sam and Heaven turned as they watched its fatal descent. Meters above the ground, the Sharantta vessel burst into a thunderous ball of flame.

Sam crouched and pumped an arm victoriously. Rising to meet Heaven's eyes with elation, Sam said loudly, “Now, that's how you kick ass!”

Heaven turned and walked toward the tree line, rolling her eyes.

Belebele skittered into sight. It turned in a circle to the right. It turned in a circle to the left. Ben stood close to the barrier, his eyes wide. Was this spider joy? Belebele skittered this way and that way, his high arms describing happy arcs. Jikza joined in the dance; they touched diffals and put on quite a show. 

“We have names,” said Belebele in what Ben took as a happy voice.

We have advancements,” said Jikza in a similar tone.

Jikza was different from Belebele both in its shape and mottling. Jikza being smaller, Ben asked, “Wait, are you two married?”

The dance stopped. Belebele said to Jikza, “Assemble leave-taking.”

As Jikza moved out of view, Belebele skittered to the barrier and reared itself, thorax and head high and proud. “Stupid human! You can not see we both male?” Ben shrugged.

“Spawn queens have no legs,” said Belebele.

Ben smiled a bewildered smile, and said, “Anyway, you two seem happy.”

Belebele replied, “We give gunlah to Malmogat. Malmogat give us name. Big home. Ample meat.”

Ben said, “Quite the accomplishment for a foot soldier. You have all the makings of a leader.”

Belebele's head bobbed. “So said spawn queen. To have adulation of enemy fills me. Too bad I not taste sweet flesh.”

“You had to go and give it all away,” said Ben. “Nobody knew you had me. You could have laid up and munched for a month. The one who ate the gunlah. Well, that's another's fame, not yours.”

Belebele said, “Not ashamed. When mighty Malmogat takes the passing stones, Belebele will have pick of sweetmeats.”

“Still,” said Ben. “One bite. Surely they would not hold that against you.”

Belebele turned in a complete circle and stopped to face Ben. “Delicious thought,” said Belebele. “Mouths go moist.”

Jikza called from his corner of the cave. “Withstand temptation. Gunlah is cunning. Must give to Malmogat.”

Belebele's posture sagged. He said, “Jikza is on level of Belebele. Gunlah hopes to escape. Not happen.”

Ben smiled and spread his hands. He said, “Points for trying.”

Belebele turned and stopped. He made a laughing noise. He turned his head to face Ben and said, “Gunlah have all points. No consequence when Malmogat sink mouths into gunlah neck.”

“Does he have to eat me?” asked Ben. “I mean, is there no other punishment? A stretch in prison, perhaps.”

Belebel said. “Malmogat take time. Enjoy slowly. You stay alive and watch. Maybe eyes be last to go. Enemy of magnanimous people get come uppance. I will visit, say hello to desiccated gunlah. Maybe Malmogat toss Belebele gunlah snippet.”

Ben said, turning, “Maybe he'll toss you my backside.”

Sam and Heaven reached the tree line. They walked west just inside the clearing. Sam lost interest in the dogfights and complained. “The Besh I knew was calm but quietly adamant,” said Sam. “For an older man, he had it together.”

“Yeah,” said Heaven, keeping her eyes forward. “Your point?”

“Besh was always up front,” replied Sam. “He was there with the King's Elite chasing enemies and rescuing royals. No one had to rescue the Besh I knew.”

Heaven said, “Okay.”

Sam shook his head. If he had known it would be this far to the caves, he would have called for a ride. “I'm just saying Besh was never this much trouble.”

Heaven stopped and faced Sam. She spoke in a sharp tone of voice. “Sam.”

Sam matched her tone. “What?”

Heaven pointed past Sam's shoulder to the sky; Sam turned. An alien fighter fell from the sky. It trailed smoke and fire as it headed directly at Sam, engine screaming. Sam raced for the trees; Heaven raced beside him. As hard as he ran, Sam could see that Heaven would reach the trees ahead of him.

Well inside, Heaven slid to a halt behind a big tree and looked back. Sam had just entered the tree line, when, meters behind him, the ship hit the ground. To Heaven, the next moment slowed to a crawl of crystal clarity. The ship burst into a bright ball of flame, yellow and orange. The shock wave gripped Sam and lifted him into the air.

Ducking behind the large tree, Heaven avoided flaming debris, but she feared for Sam. Still, from the corner of her eye, Heaven saw Sam fetch up against a large tree several meters left of her position. Sam struck the tree with his back, and a large piece of shrapnel penetrated the tree just above him. As Sam fell, Heaven knew he was hurt. A moment later, Heaven stepped from behind her tree.

Small fires burned among weeds and grass. Twisted metal smoldered here and there. Shaking his head, Sam struggled on his hands and knees. Heaven ran to him, taking him by an arm to set him against the tree. She made a quick visual inspection and found nothing but singed hair.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

Sam rolled his head back and spotted the metal embedded in the tree. “I'll say yes,” he replied.

With labored breathing, Sam reached out for Heaven's hand. Heaven stood, gripped, and hauled Sam to his feet. Standing on shaky legs, Sam looked at the shrapnel above, then turned to look at the burning crash sight; he walked toward it and stopped in the open to stare at the crater. The fire was waning and black smoke billowed away on a breeze.

Heaven stopped beside him and followed his gaze. Sam did not turn to her. He said, “Well, that singed my britches.”

Black Orlainese fighters made a pass through the sky overhead. Sam tried to clear his head with a shake; his ears were still ringing from the blast. Heaven took Sam by an arm and led him to a tree.

“Here,” she said. “Sit. Lean back.”

Sam sat and leaned his head against the tree with a sigh. He closed his eyes but he could feel Heaven sit beside him. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then, he said to Heaven, “That was too close.”