She waved and the plasma ray flared out ten times stronger. The vehicle catapulted up in the air, twisted, and landed on the roadside. The cornfield near the shoulder of the road burst into flames. The Shatarian appeared unharmed, moving away from the overthrown hydro-lift and fire.

“Don’t shoot again. Stop, Spec. Ursalla.”

She frantically waved, failing to keep the plasma from firing. “It’s jammed, I can’t control this.”

The next shot blasted the hydro-lift into a ball of burning metal, nearly killing the Shatarian.

Le-Yetal spoke in an even tone, “Manually shut the weapon down. Now, Specialist.”

She hit the manual shutdown keys on the navigation panel, hands shaking, eyes turning gold.

“Now land this thing.”

Scout One set down near a shack in a clearing, away from the cornfields and fire.

Before leaving her station, Ursalla sucked on her lower lip and wiped her hands on her thighs. “I apologize for my error, sir. I should’ve, I--could’ve killed.”

“We will discuss this later. Reedpods do have a tendency to ruin things.” Not to mention the air show had wasted their energy and made them more vulnerable to Reedpod-triggered systems malfunctions.

Commander Le-Yetal, Navigator Ru, and Specialist Ursalla donned the space EVS for protection against Reedpod poisoning. After disembarking Scout One, they stood in a peaceful rural area, as dangerous to them as outer space.

“It’s time to apprehend,” Commander Le-Yetal spoke into the mic within his helmet.

“Just be careful out there, sir. Don’t want to have to save you,” Ursalla said with a smile in her voice over the mic.

Any other commander would not have noticed those words. But for his ears, they were an aphrodisiac. Consorting or mating for life was not an option for military personnel in Araidia’s elite team, but for him it would have made perfect sense.

He couldn’t see Ursalla’s eyes through her helmet’s dark visors, and the shape of her athletic and feminine body was lost beneath the space suit armor. That did not stop his blood from rising when her shoulder brushed against his arm.

“Check the small shack for any Shatarians. Keep me informed, Specialist.” He gestured a two-finger signal for her in the direction of the shack. “Pilot Zere, do you hear me?” The pilot responded. The commander touched his helmet at his ear where the receiver was. “Keep this ship ready for flight. Counting one sun hour and a quarter. Follow me, Nav Ru, we’ve got a Shatarian to catch.”

They fanned out into the field of corn heading southwest. Another tricky part of this mission was to stay cool in the suit. It was meant for sub-zero temperatures, but out here in moderate weather, it caused discomfort. Watchman Ontomus had promised his Elite team, before his unanticipated death, to issue new and improved EVS suits.

Commander Le-Yetal hadn't planned to spend this day in a suit at all. He was irked, beyond measure at being called back without even a day’s rest from the last mission. He had planned an exotic evening with Ursalla in his heating mist bath.

Static filled his ears again. “Commander….” He recognized Ursalla’s voice, straining.

“Everything under control?”

“Sir, I’ve found something. Not Shatarian. It’s a child. Strong, too. Can’t…It’s got my stick! I’ve…got it back. I’m coming out. May need you to get the anti-gravity slab if you want Pilot Zere to remain on the ship.”

“Acknowledged.”

More static sounded in his headset and then yelling and scuffling.

“Those Reed phfstpods are messing with our electronics. Let’s hurry and get this over with,” the commander said.

They returned to the clearing when an animal and a little girl dashed by them thirty feet away. The navigator knocked down the child and stunned her with the stick to keep her from fighting against them. The commander recognized the glittering light brown skin and eyes sparkling. An Araidian!

“Navigator Ru, inform the pilot of the situation and take her to the ship. We need to rendezvous with the other scouts. We’d better get moving quick, the fire is spreading.”

“Scout One, come in.” The commander waited as the navigator communicated with the pilot. “You’d better give me a hundred credits for this one. She’s an Araidian. Scientists would kill to know why she’s not dead. So you owe me.”

Another pause and static then the commander heard the conversation through his audio receiver.

“Navigator Ru, everything’s fine out here,” the pilot said.

The commander pressed on his helmet for clearer audio.

“Commander?” Pilot Zere asked. “Specialist Ursalla seems fine, too. I got her on my view screen. She’s removed her helmet and breathing through backup mask. Her bio signs indicate she’s heated up. I believe she’s cooling down. Nav Ru, can you hear me now? Commander, there’s interference.”

“I can see that, Scout One. It‘s the Reedpods causing interference. Inform Specialist Ursalla to put her helmet back on once she cools down.”

 “Scout One, can you hear me?” Nav Ru asked, tapping on his helmet. “I’ve apprehended a surviving Araidian. You won’t believe this, but we’ve caught a Banee goldsniffer, too. Maybe this one will make us the richest son of a Granulup in the universe.” More static came from the helmet.

 Nav Ru threw the girl over his left shoulder, snapped a brace around the girl’s waist. The armor cradle on his shoulder helped keep her in place. He picked up the yelping creature by the scruff of the neck and tucked it under his left arm. From his utility belt, he unsnapped a small green canister that was fashioned to fit perfectly in his right palm. He popped open the lid with his thumb and white smoke hissed from it to render her and the Banee unconscious.

“This’ll keep you under control,” Nav Ru said to himself, as he walked away from the burning cornfield.

The commander motioned his navigator to get the captured girl on the ship. He turned back to Ursalla and she grinned at him under her nasal mask. The mission was almost complete; they could start their plans of relaxation. Her short hair whipped around her face in the strong breeze; she was beautiful like the goddess of war. Free from the helmet, she stood confidently.

A noise in the wind took his focus away from her. He turned within a blink and saw a projectile flying through the air. Even an Araidian couldn’t beat the speed of the projectile. It was too close to her, too fast. He ripped out his laser blaster to deflect the angle, too late. The blast hit, splattered blood from her temple. An gaping hole scarred her cream complexion. Horrified, he returned the pistol in its holster and ran to her.

Ursalla’s eyes widened; she touched her right temple and blood spilled through her fingers. Her eyes turned gold. She mouthed his name, crying soundlessly for him and his heart screamed for her. She dropped to the ground.

Le-Yetal sprinted to her and fell to his knees. “Ursalla!” He slapped her face to shock her awake. “Why didn’t you put your helmet back on? Wake up!” Her temple still bled. He grabbed a pack of coagulant from his belt and spread the thick sealant over her wound.

“Don’t go out on me like this, Ursalla. I need you.” He was not supposed to need anyone. He was a soldier.

Her eyes closed; her breathing was undetectable. He choked, and he ripped off his helmet, his nasal mask autoing on. His fingers followed the red trail. The temple was their weak spot. Though they were five times stronger than any Shatarian, this spot made them easy to kill.

Ursalla? He embraced her limp body in his left arm, and gently stroked her face. Pressure on his shoulder made him whip out his laser pistol. It was his navigator.

“Commander! Your assailant went into the cornfields. That way.”

“Pilot Zere! Tend to Specialist Ursalla. Bring out the medic droids. Scout One, can you hear me?” Static met his ears again and he gave up the communications. Finally his pilot responded through the mic and Le-Yetal saw the ship's hatch open.

“Ursalla, you will live. I won’t let you die.” He caressed her cheek, snapped his helmet back on, and ran with his navigator to avenge her.

A foolish place to run and hide, Le-Yetal thought as he looked toward the tall green plants.

“Sir! We have to get back for the rendezvous. The countdown--”

“Phfstpod the countdown!” They ran toward the cornfield and Le-Yetal saw the Shatarian youth just about to jump into the cornstalks.

Commander Le-Yetal and Nav Ru caught up with the slow creature and took out their prods, stinging the boy in the back. The young Shatarian keeled over and rolled, but he wouldn’t stay down. Springing up, the youth dodged one jab toward the shoulder. The second jab caught him in the stomach and he fell over.

Commander Le-Yetal found an opportunity to kill. He had recognized the Shatarian as the one in the hydro-lift. And this creature had wounded Ursalla, the only thing in the commander's life that wasn't about death. All of Shatazar and Araidia wouldn’t keep him from punishing this thief if Ursalla didn’t recover.

“Commander, this is Scout One. We have three quarters of a sun hour until breach. It’s our point of no return. Sir, Nav Ru, please respond. You must hurry. Specialist Ursalla hasn’t moved.”

Static, even louder, pierced his ears after the message. Three quarters of a sun hour were left. They needed to hurry, get more captives, and return to Araidia before their equipment drained from those energy-sucking Reedpods. The commander put his hand to his helmet.

“Will she be all right?”

“Sir, according to the data reader, her breathing reserve is depleted. She won’t make it.”

The commander yelled and snatched off his helmet again. He wiped the black smudges marked under his eyes as sweat trailed down his face, dripping off of his chin. Nothing had ever wounded him as this Shatarian did.

The boy watched him intently, paralyzed by their prods. Le-Yetal ripped open the lapel to his thigh pocket, and pulled out a knife, nine inches long with a jagged blade. He waved the intimidating weapon to deflect the sunlight off the blade onto the slave’s face. A deserved filleting should appease his vengeance. The commander swung the knife gracefully, and posed with right arm high and wrist straight for the kill.

“Sir!” Nav Ru came between the knife and the boy. “He’s young and strong. He’ll be one of the needed ones. We cannot kill him. It’s not our option. Let Specialist Ursalla's honorable death not be sullied by our disobedience.”

Le-Yetal threw the knife. It whistled past the boy's face, and landed upright in the ground almost touching his ear. The commander straddled the boy’s torso and bent over him, close enough to feel the slave’s puffs of warm air.

A cold vow escaped Le-Yetal’s lips. “If she does not live, I will kill you personally with no scheduled assassination.”

Nav Ru pulled the commander away from the boy. The commander growled and twisted around, hitting his navigator in the gut. Nav Ru merely caught his fist and held it. They strained against each other; then Nav Ru let go with one hand and slammed it into the commander’s chest. “Commander, I know we’ve gone off course of the mission. Ever since you received that encrypted message, you’ve gone against our previous orders.” Nav Ru still held Le-Yetal off. “I trust you, Sir. You have never let us down. If I have to die in saving you from deception, I will.”

The trust of his crewmember caught him harder in the gut than the blow. He couldn't see Ru's face behind his visor, but his navigator’s heart had spoken and Le-Yetal honored the reply.

“Navigator, you are under contempt and will receive a reprimand for interfering with me if this happens again. I’m your commander. Release me. Now!" His navigator let go and Le-Yetal slapped him hard on the helmet. His tone lightened. “Next time, I’ll have to shoot you.”

“Sir, you never have to address this again.”

“Let’s get back. We may get her to the restorative chambers in time. You carry him. If I get my hands on him again, I’ll kill him. He’s caused enough trouble.”

Nav Ru wrenched the boy up from the ground, snapping a collar around the youth’s neck and dousing him with sleeping gas. He tossed the Shatarian over his right shoulder and carried the boy like a wet rag. The boy’s long hair dangled and his limp arms slapped against the navigator’s buttocks.

Black smoke swirled from the ashes of the burning cornfield, but pure oxygen pumped into Le-Yetal's nose and gave him clarity of mind. He exhaled, hoping to leave the accursed place in time. “Someone else, bring the antigravity gurney, now!”

Scout One’s carapace of ebony had become an iridescent swirl, appearing like an oil bubble ready to burst. The chemical reaction was a dangerous sign of the ship’s surface weakening from the poisonous atmosphere. The rainbow display of nature defying technology baffled Le-Yetal. Their ships could pass through the void of space, nebular gases, a comet’s tail, and even through the golden horror of a sun flash. How could this strange new threat, the Reedpod -- a weed! -- make such a powerful instrument of space travel and weaponry useless?

The spaceship’s alarm wailed in his ear as his navigator trotted toward him and his pilot with the slab floating behind.

Le-Yetal quickly placed his specialist and their helmets on the antigravity slab. The medic droids, domes of metal with robotic arms, ceased their probing and raced ahead of the antigrav gurney with Pilot Zere.

Clouds of smoke rose from the cornfields and drifted toward them as they made their way back to the ship. Winds blew the contaminated air, burning the commander’s eyes. Beneath the insistent wail of the ship, Le-Yetal heard a crunching sound like footfalls over burned corn.

Swirls of smoke receded from a hooded figure, as it emerged from the field and stood twenty feet before him. In a blink, Le-Yetal’s laser pistol pointed in the figure’s direction.