412

As you crouch beneath the trees, you hear snuffling like that of a dog. Cautiously, you stand up ready to make a run for it but, suddenly mongols are closing in on you from all sides. You Thinkstrike two, who collapse unconscious, but the others overwhelm you. They are able hunters, used to the dark and able to track you by smell. You struggle helplessly, but they knock the helmet from your head and carry you to the pond's edge. Laughing cruelly, they force your head beneath the water lilies until your lungs are bursting. Your whole life flashes before you in the slow seconds of your death. You have failed and the Space Federation will never be.