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My eyes leaked. Water ran from the corners of my eyes. I stayed there a moment on my hands and knees, disorientated.

Without the protective cover of dirt, the noises were nightmarish. I got to my knees, then my feet, slowly, and checked my limbs were unharmed and still working. I pressed a hand to my head where the metal pole had struck me. It was tender but there was no blood.

My cell walls had been shredded beyond repair and the entire room was covered with a layer of dirt at least two feet high.

The giant digger the Changelings had used to burst through the base’s walls was a large and sinister-looking device. It had two large headlamps the color of red demon eyes and a twin pair of arms that ended with twisted drill bits as tall as me. For now, they rested, their job complete.

Familiar footsteps rushed through the dust at my feet.

I would have recognized their tracks anywhere.

Changelings.

My stomach lurched the way it always did when one of my strong suspicions came true.

The Changelings had discovered the base’s location.

That was the reason the Changelings had that mischievous look on their faces.

They knew they might have lost the battle, but they would not lose the war.

I staggered toward the door that led to the hallways. I eased the door open and immediately pulled back.

Half a dozen Changelings stood with their backs to me. Most had morphed into various alien species and gripped blaster weapons in hands and claws. They fired around the corner at an entrenched Yayora position.

Red-hot anger pulsed through me.

I eased the door open and crept up behind the Changeling soldiers. I kicked a Changeling’s knees out from behind and scooped my arm around his neck. With the other hand, I grabbed his blaster pistol and opened fire on the Changelings.

Taken by surprise, three of the figures leaped back, directly in the Yayoras’ line of fire. The other creatures leveled their pistols at me. Most bolts of plasma found their comrade clutched in my arm, even as he attempted to shift into a different creature.

I opened fire on the unprotected Changelings. One fell with a bolt in the chest. The other took a wound in the shoulder and disappeared down the hallway.

I dropped the dead body and approached the corner.

“Don’t shoot!” I shouted. “I’m Chax. The Titan prisoner you keep in the cells. I’ve taken out the other Changelings. I’m putting my weapon down and I’m going to step into the hallway. Please don’t shoot me.”

“How do we know you’re not a Changeling?” a Yayora soldier said.

“I’ll roll up my sleeves so you can see there’s no band of skin around my wrists.”

No response came.

“Okay?” I said.

“Go ahead,” the Yayora soldier said.

I shut my eyes and said a prayer. Please don’t let me get shot. Maddy needs me.

I rounded the corner with my hands held up, my forearms and wrists on full display. I stepped over a couple of fallen bodies. One was a Changeling, the other a Yayora.

When I reached the end, they were quick to grab me and check me for weapons.

“Did you get them all?” the Yayora soldier said.

He was shorter than the others, with a terrible haircut that made his forehead too big. He had the spark of intelligence in his luminous yellow eyes. His name was stenciled across his jacket: V’SEN.

“All but one,” I said. “He escaped down a hallway.”

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