When Ethan woke, the headache was still there, but his urge to vomit had dissipated, and his vision was more sharp.

Sharp enough to see Lydia sleeping soundly on the ground next to him.

"Dammit." He straightened and glanced around, but saw nothing in the darkness surrounding the camp. The fire had died back significantly, but there was still a decent orange glow spreading out several feet in all directions.

He found his watch on the ground and checked the time. Six hours had passed since he'd handed Lydia the time piece, but he had no idea how long since she'd fallen asleep.

Carefully, he got to his feet, testing his stomach for stability. When nothing untoward happened, he put the watch on and grabbed one of the small hand lights.

All Fleet escape pods were fitted with emergency locator beacons that activated automatically upon launch, and held enough power to continue transmitting for a three year period. Even if Colonel Patterson hadn't been aware of their launch, and subsequent rough landing, any computer in use back at the gray city would pick up on the transmission and alert its user.

It was a failsafe built in to all modern systems and universally accepted once Earth began the evacuation planning. A system that had been tried and tested thousands of times with complete success.

But it was a success utterly dependant on someone not having removed the device prior to launch.

Ethan stared at the bare wires for several minutes, then tried to hotwire them together to get any signal at all, but there was no power to tap in to.

"What are you doing?"

Ethan turned and saw Lydia stretch and yawn, obviously unconcerned that she'd fallen asleep without waking him.

He looked back at the wires. "The beacon isn't working," he said. "We'll have to find your pod and check that one." He let go of the wires and stood up. "Sleep well?"

"Oh my God, I fell asleep." Lydia scrambled to her feet and looked around. "I just wanted to close my eyes for a minute."

Ethan kicked dirt over the fire, reducing it to embers, then picked up the aid kits and transferred the contents of one into the other. "Which direction is it?"

Lydia blinked, then looked left. "I'm not sure."

Ethan pointed behind her. "You came crashing through those bushes."

"Oh?" She turned and looked at the shrubs. "Okay, yeah, that looks familiar. It's so dark, and I was walking around for a while."

"Great." Ethan handed her the aid kit to carry, but kept a hand light tucked into the pocket on his right thigh. He took another look at the dark sky, then glanced around at what little landscape he could make out. Finally, he started toward the bushes. "It's as good a direction as any."

Lydia followed, wisely saying nothing as they pushed through the bushes and trekked up a slight rise. Ethan's head was still pounding, but his stomach had settled, and what little he could see was clear and in focus at least.

With no moon, it was impossible to see further than a few feet with any clarity. Distances were reduced to vague shadows and confused shapes that seemed to change if you stared at them too long. Ethan held little hope of finding Lydia's escape pod as he neared the top of the rise. They were now walking on solid rock, with no sign of her tracks in either direction.

"Don't you think if they disabled yours, they disabled mine?" Lydia asked as they reached the top of the slight hill.

"Most likely," Ethan admitted. "But I have to check."

She let out a loud sigh and reached up to pull her hair back into a ponytail. "Why, exactly?"

Ethan looked at her, then looked out over the dark landscape. "Because it's what Colonel Patterson will expect. It's what any Marine rescue party is going to expect. And before you ask Why, it's because logic dictates you exhaust all avenues before striking out on your own. Okay?" He turned back to her and arched an eyebrow.

Lydia glared back at him. "I know what you're thinking, Ethan, and I don't care. I knew what I was doing, and I'd be right up there with them this very minute if I'd believed they could make the trip." She shook her head. "I lost my father and sisters, remember? They're either dead in a Fleet ship somewhere, or still back on Earth. I'm betting they're still back on Earth. We weren't all as lucky as you and Kathryn, so don’t you stand there and judge me."

Ethan felt his blood pressure rise, pounding in his already aching head. "If you expect me to apologize for being lucky, you're going to be disappointed," he replied. "I'm sorry your father and sisters aren't here, Lydia. I'm sorry so many people are dead. I'm sorry Commander Ellis lost his wife and sons, and had to watch them explode above his head. I'm sorry I had to watch him commit suicide in front of me." He took half a step toward Lydia and she seemed to shrink back just a bit. "I'm sorry this mission has gone to hell so profoundly. And I am really sorry eighteen hundred people just followed Captain Marshall most likely to their deaths. But I'm am not sorry to be alive. I'm not sorry Kathryn made it here, and I'm not going to apologize for things that have been completely out of my control." He paused and stared at her, waiting for the pounding behind his eyes to ease up a bit. "You can justify what you were going to do all you want. You can tell yourself Captain Marshall was doing the right thing, and everyone who went along had reason to do it. Right now, I don’t give a fuck what you think or what you did." He pointed out toward the darkness in front of them. "All I care about is getting back to the others without getting eaten by something I can't see coming."

Lydia blinked, then opened her mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it.

"I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe, and get you rescued, but do not -- for one minute -- mistake my actions for feelings." He looked off into the darkness again, trying to make sense of the shadows in the distance. "I'll keep you alive, but I don't have to be happy about it."

Lydia crossed her arms and turned around, choosing keep quiet for the time being.

Ethan scanned the area, wishing he had a set of binoculars, or infrared lenses. Even a larger hand light would have been a boon in this environment. He could see the stars moving now that his vision had cleared up, but it wasn't helping tell him which direction to take, or how far from the equator they were. For all he knew, they'd landed on the opposite side of the planet.

Without a working transponder, or any way of communicating with Colonel Patterson, expecting a rescue any time soon wasn't high on Ethan's list of expectations. But with no idea where they were, he was going to have to figure something out, and soon.

"Ethan, is that the sunrise?"

He turned around, then saw what Lydia was pointing at. On the horizon was an orange glow, small but distinct.

"Maybe we're not on Urth," Lydia said quietly. "Oh God, Ethan, are we back home?"

"No, it's not rising." He shook his head as he stared at the glow. "That isn't the sun." He started down the small hill, toward the light. "Stay very close to me and keep quiet."

As they reached the bottom of the hill, Ethan became aware of dark shapes in the valley around them, moving slowly. A herd of harrumphs was feeding on the tall grasses, ignoring them as they walked by.

"If they're here, we're safe," Ethan said as they moved through the herd.

"And if something frightens them?"

He shot her a glance, but just kept walking.

"So, if the escape pods weren't transmitting, we have to find our own way back?"

Ethan noticed the tall grasses they were walking through grew the tea flower Eferia had introduce him to. He picked several as they passed, stuffing them into the pocket on his left thigh.

"I mean, if Colonel Patterson doesn't even know to look for us, he'll just assume we're dead, won't he?"

They couldn't exactly make tea without some type of container for water, but he figured in a pinch they could use the first aid container. They'd need fresh water sooner or later, regardless.

"I suppose I should be grateful Captain Marshall took you hostage. Otherwise I don't think he would have let me leave the ship."

Ethan looked at the orange glow ahead of them. It wasn't growing in size, but he was confident they were getting closer. Another hour, maybe two.

"Look, I understand you're angry with me," Lydia continued her dialog as they pushed through the valley. "But we could be stuck together for months, trying to find our way back. Are you going to stay silent the entire time?"

"What do you want from me, Lydia? Forgiveness?"

"I suppose that's too much to ask." She shook her head and glanced away. "Maybe it's this place. The constant darkness, or light. Something in the air, I don't know. I just know I'm not the only one struggling to come to terms with things, Ethan. Nothing's been easy here. Nothing has gone the way it was planned."

"The same things happening to you are happening to everyone," he countered. "I didn't exactly see a line forming for that ride back to Earth."

"You're a Marine, you're trained to deal with this kind of situation. When the world goes to hell around you, you grab a gun and start fighting back. At least that gives you some feeling of control. Of purpose. What are the rest of us supposed to do?"

"Get angry," Ethan retorted. "Get even. Just don't get stupid."

Lydia huffed as they stepped around a small grouping of harrumphs. "Define stupid."

"That." Ethan stopped walking. Ahead of them, spread out over several miles, were the red-hot, burning remains of a large Fleet ship.

They stared at the wreckage for several minutes. Lydia had begun sobbing quietly into her hands, but Ethan was more interested in the spread and pattern of the burning, twisted metal. The flames illuminated a wide swath of destruction, but there was something off about what was left of the ship.

"How could this happen?" Lydia shook her head, then lowered herself to the ground in a defeated slump. "How could this happen?"

"It's not the ship," Ethan replied. "There isn't enough here. It's the fuel extenders. They must have broken apart during launch." He started toward the leading edge of glowing metal. "Captain Marshall probably didn't eject us, the pods shot out automatically."

Lydia sat on the ground, hugging her knees as Ethan moved closer to the wreckage.

"If they lost this much fuel, they won't even make the first jump point." He had to stop when a wave of heat reached out from a pile of melted metal. "If the onboard systems don't wake them, they won't know what happened for several years."

He looked at the grass around the burning pieces, glad to find the fire wasn't spreading. The grass seemed to be repelling the flames, at least where it hadn't been completely obliterated by the sheer mass of the crash.

There were thick, oily patches of fuel burning in clumps here and there, that gave Ethan an idea. He glanced up to say as much, but Lydia was still on the ground, hugging herself and crying quietly.

Ethan tossed her the hand light. "Here, take this. If you hear something, or see those harrumphs running, turn it on. I'll just be a minute."

She let the light drop in the soft grass beside her, then picked it up and said nothing.

He watched her for a second, then shook his head and started circling the wreckage. Not far away from the edge of the debris was a large fruit-bearing tree where Ethan found some suitable branches, cleared off a section of bark from the tips, then kept walking until he located a puddle of engine fuel that hadn't caught on fire yet.

It was still the consistence of pudding, which mean it hadn't been touched by flames as of yet, but that made it perfect for his needs. He dipped the tip of each branch into the fuel and let the wood soak up a good layer, then worked them around until each stick was holding a semi-solid plug of unused ship fuel.

On the way back to where Lydia was sitting, he gathered a few ripe fruits from the lower branches of the tree, then paused to double check their security layer of grazing harrumphs.

"They don't seem bothered by the fire," he said as he sat down next to Lydia. "I knew the orange light wouldn't upset them, but I'm surprised a pile of burning metal doesn't give them a second thought." He stuck both fuel-soaked branches into the dirt. "When these dry a bit, I'll soak them again. A few coats should give us decent torches for a good long time."

Lydia picked up one of the fruits and looked at it sullenly. "You can be pretty cold sometimes, you know that?"

Ethan was too tired to get angry, so he shrugged. "Sometimes cold is called for." He picked up a fruit, but his stomach wasn't ready for anything just yet, so he put it back down and looked around at the area illuminated by the flames. "I didn't send them up in that ship, and I didn't bring part of it down." He glanced at Lydia, who was peeling the fruit. "I can't help them now, either. So my choices are to sit here and mourn their fate, or focus my attention on ours. If that's cold, then it's cold."

Lydia didn't reply, so Ethan said no more. They were going to need fresh water soon, but he was too tired to go looking again. The harrumphs were still grazing contentedly in the field behind them, and the fire was going to burn for several days. It was a safe bet they'd be found by any rescue effort if they stayed close enough to the wreckage, so he got comfortable in the grass and watched the spilled fuel burn.

After an hour being mesmerized by the orange flames, Ethan noticed the harrumphs were moving out of the valley. They were walking calmly, not running from a predator, so he stood and tried to see into the darkness.

"They're probably heading for water," he said.

Lydia stood, wiping dirt from her pants as she squinted at the lumbering giants. "I can barely see them."

Ethan nodded. "Might not be such a good idea to follow them too far, either. I'd rather stick closer to this wreckage."

"Wait, do you hear that?"

Ethan turned around and looked at her. "Hear what?"

Lydia held up a hand and cocked her head. "I hear voices!"

Just then, Ethan heard a man shouting for help. He looked around quickly, then moved further away from the flames to see around the leading edge.

There he found six men, carrying small hand lights, rushing through the darkness toward them, waving their arms frantically.

Ethan moved back quickly, then grabbed Lydia's arms. "Stay here!" Without waiting for her acknowledgement, he moved toward the flames, forcing himself to ignore the heat as he sought some cover amid the hot, twisted metal.

A moment later, Captain Marshall and five of his officers reached Lydia.

"Marshall? How did you -- where did you come from?" she asked.

Ethan moved through the flames and came out behind the six, silently approaching while they were focused on Lydia. He pulled the knife out of his pocket as he slipped up behind a navy lieutenant and easily got his arm around the man's throat before anyone realized he was there.

Lydia's sudden gasp brought the others around to face Ethan.

"Drop your weapons, Captain," he said. "Believe me, I won't hesitate."

The man who's throat he was threatening instantly dropped his hand light, then pulled his sidearm off and let that fall to his feet. Two of the others complied immediately, but the other two looked to their captain first.

Ethan pulled the lieutenant back, offsetting his balance. "I'm not feeling very patient, Marshall!"

The captain waved a hand at the other two, then followed suit by removing his own holster and weapon, then tossing it to the ground in front of Ethan.

Taking a step forward, Ethan shoved the lieutenant forward, then knelt down quickly and retrieved a gun. Holding the others at bay, he picked up a holster and wrapped it around his waist, then the rest of the guns. He stood, slipping a gun into each thigh pocket and another two into his belt.

"Answer her," he said to Marshall. "How did you get here?"

The captain shifted, then straightened up and squared back his shoulders. "Escape pods, just like the two of you."

"So where's the rest of the ship? Did they crash?"

Marshall shook his head once, sharply. "No, they didn't crash, as a matter of fact."

"What happened?" Lydia asked, stunned.

Marshall looked at his men, then turned away from Ethan to answer Lydia. "They're on board the Fleet ship, safe, sound and sleeping," he said.

Ethan shook his head. "They're as good as dead, without this reserve fuel. Did you dump it on purpose? Did you realize your mistake and take the coward's way out?"

Captain Marshall spun around, eyes flashing anger in the orange glow of the burning metal. "The only coward here is Patterson!" he argued. "For not realizing Earth needs our help! Obviously ELM has taken over, murdered hundreds of thousands of our people. And here we're handed the opportunity to go back and help whoever's left, and he refused! He'd rather stay here, where it's safe and he can remain in control."

Ethan laughed shortly. "You're insane, Marshall. You weren't running back to Earth out of altruism, and neither were any of those other poor idiots you talked into coming with you." He glared back at the captain. "Now you're here. Where are they?"

Captain Marshall's jaw clenched, and so did his fists, but before he could reply, Lydia pointed out into the darkness.

"Look! Are those headlights?"

Everyone turned to look, but Ethan kept his eyes on them instead. "Lydia, get behind me."

She complied, but kept looking out in the direction of the lights. "It is! Ethan, it's mobile units!"

Captain Marshall turned to face Ethan. He shook his head slowly, then motioned to his men, who began to move away in the opposite direction. "I hope we meet again, Major."

Ethan primed the handgun. "Don't."

Marshall smiled, then turned and began running with his men, into the darkness and away from the approaching mobiles.

Ethan took aim, but Lydia grabbed his arm.

"You can't! Ethan, no. You're better than he is."

"Mutiny is a capital offense." Ethan pulled his arm from her grasp, but didn't try to find his targets again. They had all too quickly vanished into the perpetual night. "They won't last long out there without weapons," he sighed. "And if you tell me that's cold, you can just jog out there and join them."