Omar clutched his side, grimacing. His SI suit quickly repaired itself and applied emergency foam to his wound, but the part of his abdomen where the sting round pierced him was still burning with pain. That’s not going to be a quick fix. Omar glanced around at the terrain. There were plenty of rocks to hide behind, but if he stepped out of cover he knew a shot would follow instantly. I can’t stay here, though, he thought. If this is an incursion, I need to get back and warn Jezero. He stood there for a while, panting. The image of Irene convulsing on the ground, choking on her own blood as she held her neck, flashed through his mind. It happened so damn fast. How the hell did we not see the shooter?!

From the direction he had run, Omar heard the sound of approaching Rovers. Sh*t. Drawing his sting pistol and knife, Omar crept forward and peered over the rock outcropping. Sure enough, he saw red dust billowing ahead as a pair of A1-Rovers revved towards him. They were fully manned, each with a driver and a passenger. Four soldiers. This is bad. 

Omar stood still, waiting for the Rovers to close the distance. His heart pounded in his chest, but Omar blocked it out from his mind. You’re a soldier. Fear can wait. He took a deep breath, drawing on the routine he had used countless times before. In for four seconds. Hold for four seconds. Out for six seconds. Clear the mind, focus on the breathing. Be calm when you make the shot. He edged his pistol over the rocks, angling it towards his target.

When the Rovers were within sixty feet, Omar pulled the trigger. Pressurized gas erupted from the end of the pistol as the sting round shot out. The bullet whizzed by, piercing the driver’s visor. The  now-dead driver slumped at the controls, sending the rover and the passenger careening off to the side. 

Seeing their companions downed, the soldiers on the other rover started firing at Omar. Omar quickly ducked down. He heard rounds hit the rock outcropping, faint pings muffled in the Martian atmosphere.  Omar ran deeper into the jagged landscape. He found a large basalt column and crouched, panting lightly while he peered around the rock. Come on you bastards. Dismount and come get me. 

Eventually, two figures appeared over the crest of the old outcropping. Omar finally got a closer look at his pursuers. The pair wore muted grey-orange SI suits, the typical outfit of scouts. Both held submachine guns, panning them back and forth across the area. Omar noticed that they each had a patch on their shoulder, yet he couldn’t make the insignia out against their camouflage. I’ll have to find out the hard way. 

The scouts spread out, searching for Omar. Soon, one of the scouts was within 30 feet of Omar’s position. Omar grabbed a stone from the ground and quietly tossed it, angling it towards where the farther scout was. The stone flew through the air and clattered close to the far scout. The scout’s guns snapped towards where the stone fell. In a split second Omar stood up, firing two shots at the closest scout. The projectiles struck the scout in the heart, sending the scout crumbling to the ground. Omar turned to aim at the second scout, but they had already wheeled around to face Omar and started firing. Omar hit ground, barely avoiding a hail of bullets. He fell on his side, and the pain from his wound lanced through him. Argh! Omar scrambled to his feet. He started hustling across the sands, weaving between the basalt in the direction of the scout. Time to end this!

As Omar turned a corner, he suddenly found himself face to face with the scout. It seemed that both of them had tried to get the drop on the other. They two froze for a moment in surprise, and then they lunged at each other, desperately grappling while they both tried to get a clear shot. Omar dropped his pistol and struck the scout with a left hook. The scout recoiled, and Omar used the opening to drive his knife into the scout’s stomach. The scout fell to the ground, gasping in pain.

Omar leveled his pistol against the scouts head. 

“Your friends are gone, Omar said, panting, “tell me who the hell you are, or I’ll blast a hole through your skull!” 

The scout remained silent, staring at Omar with a look of stoic contempt. Omar pressed the end of his pistol into the scout’s chest. He leaned close to the scout, speaking in a growling whisper.

“You killed my partner. Tell me what you know, or you’ll wish you had died instead.”

The scout continued his silence. Omar reached for his knife, but a flash of blue on the scout’s shoulder patch caught his eye. When he saw the patch, Omar’s heart skipped a beat. The design of the insignia was a feather outlined in a circle. Blue Origin. The blues must be making a move on Jezero! Omar knew that the invasion force wouldn’t be far behind these scouts. He had to warn the station. Stepping back from the scout, Omar unclipped his radio from his suit, and lifted it up to speak into the receiver. 

He never got the chance. A bullet struck him in the back, passing out the other side through his chest. Omar stumbled in shock. He collapsed to the ground, as his SI suit tried in vain to repair the damage. 

Omar looked to where the shot had come from. The fourth scout, the passenger of the first rover, stood at the top of the outcropping with a rifle. 

“Not all my friends are dead,” the scout said, smiling as he hauled himself up. “And I’ve got a lot more on the way.”

“Omar’s vision began to fade. Before everything went black, he saw a cloud of dust rising from behind the scout that shot him. An army was coming. The invasion had begun.