Unable to get any sleep, I climbed out of bed to go for a walk in the hope that it would calm the storm of images in my head. I opened my tent, and breathed in a lungful of the fresh night air, and looked over at the man on watch. His head moved side to side as he scanned the area from his perch in the tree. Five other tents filled the clearing, camouflage netting over the top to break the outline. They belonged to the other members of my squad, but our numbers were always diminishing.

We were out here, away from the safety of our stronghold in the Rocky Mountains, to search for any people lucky enough to have survive the bombing, and to make tactical strikes against the Farseer’s asserts. We had managed to destroy a landing pad and barracks, and killed dozens of the aliens, but it wasn’t enough. Running low on supplies, I made the decision to head home, to prepare another attack for next time.

Suddenly, I saw the soldier on watch jerk into alertness.

“Incoming!” he yelled, a second before he was killed.