“Drone!” the Ranger shouted. “Straight above us.”

As he dove through the hatch, Fragger saw the perimeter guards wheel about and fire their weapons into the sky. He knew they hadn’t found their target when a blast threw him deeper into the ship and high and hard up against a bulkhead. He dropped onto the deck, striking the back of his head against the floor. Sudden nausea corroded his throat as multi-colored lights stabbed his vision with pinpricks of pain. He rolled onto his hands and knees and staggered upright, fighting the confusion with a stupid combat mantra.

Rangers have hard heads, and I’ve got the hardest head of all, so no damage done.

Fragger stumbled out of the ship and dropped face-first into the blast crater, eating a mouthful of dirt and explosive residue. He spat it out and climbed over the edge of the crater and straight into the intestines of a dead Ranger who’d been unlucky enough to be out of his armor. The stink of shredded bowels rose from the ground as he wiped the bloody guts on the grass and rose shakily to his feet.

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