“Get down!” Woolf shouted, and the soldiers dove to the floor behind couches and tables, trying to make it back to the room they’d just exited. Marcus saw a moment of confusion in the attackers, a brief pause as they took stock of the new situation, and somehow, for some reason, they seemed to identify the fleeing humans as threats. A half second later they turned on the humans, gunning them down with cold ferocity. The humans shook and screamed as the attack ripped through their ranks, and Marcus closed his eyes as his companions’ bodies fell to the ground around him.

More reinforcements arrived from deeper in the building, and Partials poured out of the transport in a seemingly endless wave. Marcus peeked up at the raging battle, quailed at the sight of it, and hid his head again, hoping he could just lie still and play dead until the fighting was over. The noise in the room was deafening, dozens of automatic weapons all firing at once, and he worried that he might lose his hearing permanently. A hand grabbed his leg, and he couldn’t help the scream of terror that leapt from his lips. He rolled over in a flurry to see who it was, and recognized Commander Woolf. The man was talking, but Marcus couldn’t hear it. Behind him were two more human soldiers, all crouched low behind the dubious cover of a waiting room couch. Woolf said something else, then gestured for Marcus to follow him and started crawling for the nearest door. The soldiers went after him, and Marcus started to follow. A bullet struck the soldier in front of him, dropping the soldier like a bag of meat, and Marcus scrambled forward in reckless fear, desperate to reach the open door. He felt a sharp sting in his arm, and then he was through, gasping and panting as Woolf and the last soldier threw the door shut behind them.