The blip moved once more. It was now just ninety kilometres away.

She pushed a map of the mountain range into the air next to her, doing her best to stay calm and not panic. She saw a glowing dot that represented Sifras dropship, while another dot represented the encroaching missile.

She felt a jolt of shock when she realized just how fast it was closing. Seventy-five kilometres . . .

Sixty-five . . .

Sixty . . .

She was beginning to wonder if she would have time even to land before it hit her.

She brought the jump-car right down until it was skimming just above the ground. Meanwhile the gorge had disappeared behind her, the jump-car nosing over jumbled peaks, and dipping down again as it followed the course of a winding river valley.

The valley walls began to widen and become less steep, merging with the foothills of a tall and particularly forbidding-looking peak rising to the East.

Megan searched frantically for some place flat enough for her to land. The missile was now only twenty-five kilometres away, and she could almost feel it nosing up behind her.

There. She spotted a flat pebbled area to the north-west, where the valley twisted to one side. She set the jump-car instantly to land, its propulsion fields flickering as it lost speed.

Fifteen kilometres. Megan realized she was holding her breath.

She pulled herself out of her seat and ran into the hold, locating the secret bulkhead door and hauling out as many of Sarbakshians weapons as she could. She threw them through the doorway leading into the cockpit.

Ten kilometres. She looked up front and saw dust blowing up around the windshield, as the jump-car settled onto the hard-frozen soil. She dumped the armful of weaponry she held and scrabbled for her cold-weather gear, fumbling it on as fast as she could, before pulling up the hood and fastening it at the front. She searched around for her breather mask, and for one terrible, lurching moment, was unable to find it. Then a cry of relief when she realized she had folded it up earlier and stuffed it in one pocket of her jacket.

Five kilometres, and closing fast. This wasnt at all how shed imagined things would pan out.

She hit the emergency release button on the cars hatch. It swung open, air gusting outwards. She had a rifle slung over one shoulder, and several of the short-use beam weapons stuffed into any available pocket that wasnt already jammed full of ammunition. Lastly, she grabbed up a rucksack shed at least had the foresight to load with a couple of bottles of water and some survival rations, and threw it down onto the barren grey soil, before jumping down and snatching it up again.

She started to run, her legs pumping as fast as they would go. All she had to do now was get clear in time and