This is a fan fiction. Events depicted here are not canon, though perhaps they could be. Special thanks to all my readers, you guys are epic (b~.^)>

See my other works:

• SSN - concluded
• Riot! - concluded
• Special Operations - concluded
• Higher! - concluded
• Fury and Ash - concluded

Next

The shuttle lurched as lightning struck the port side engine. Children screamed, and the pilots fought for control.

"Engine 2 is out! Power distribution is fried. We're losing her!" Venlil flight engineer cried out. He was scared, but keeping his professionalism as best he could. It wouldn't do any of them any good if he panicked.

"Ok, I'm gonna try to find a place to set this bird down." The human fought at the controls. "Mayday, mayday, mayday. Tourist flight ES-259, port engine failure, unable to maintain altitude. We are declaring an emergency. Night side, coordinates 62.331 South, 118.327 West. Transponder active."

The shuttle shook again as the winds buffeted it.

"Can't see shit in this." The pilot cursed, jockeying his throttles. "OK, come on baby, hold on for a few more seconds."

"Terrain, Terrain. Terrain, Terrain. PULL UP! PULL UP!"

"There! Three points to the right!"

"I see it" the pilot eased his controls, trying to aim for the clearing. "BRACE BRACE BRACE!"

The shuttle plowed into the snow covered ground at over 200 kilometers per hour. There was more screaming as it bounced and slid onto its side, digging a furrow into the deep snow. The hull cracked, and tore, and the lights went out.

Memory transcription subject: Angela Haverbrook, Human rock star

Date [standardized human time]: 2024, December 23, 2137.

"Thank you! You've been a wonderful audience! We love you!"

My fans cheered for me, and I held my arms high, as the lights went out. My band and I retreated off the stage as the roadies began packing our equipment.

"Phew! That was great!" Mark tossed me a shadeberry beer, which I popped open with gusto. "You really had everyone going there Angela."

"Can't do it without you guys."

"Can I have a drink too, Miss Angela?" Our Kolshian drummer Rantas smiled at me oh so innocently, and I laughed knowing he was still way under age. I passed him a juice box, and he looked a little disappointed before pushing the straw into it.

Forty minutes later, we were going through the performance, making notes of our missteps and where we could improve when there was a knock on the door. I opened it to find an old Venlil with an exterminator uniform, along with a human peacekeeper.

"Angela Haverbrook?"

"OUH! Angela! What did you do this time?!" Spike called out.

"Nothing that I know of... How can I help you officer?"

"Nothing you did, but we have a problem we were hopeful you could help us with." The exterminator pulled out his datapad and showed me the report. "Earlier this paw a tourist shuttle went down on the night side about [550 kilometers] South East of here. Your band has one of the only shuttles in the area large enough to carry all the passengers."

"If we can get to them. This terrain sucks. Spike!"

"Coming." My keyboardist and pilot came over and looked at the pad before letting out a whistle. "Ick... yeah, that's bad shit. How many were on board?"

"Including the pilots and attendants, thirty-two souls, most of them children under fifteen earth years old."

"Fuck..." I cursed. "This area is prime shade-stalker country too, isn't it?"

"That's why we need to get there as fast as possible. Any survivors are going to be in extreme cold, and hunted by some very unruly predators."

"Which means they may or may not have stayed with the shuttle, depending on how smart they are."

Spike tabbed through the topography settings. "Ok, plan. Angela, we drop you off by zipline here at the shuttle. You check around, and we can load up anyone there. Otherwise....

"Otherwise I need to track them. Well, always did want to do some skiing." I grumbled. Alright, these kids won't wait. Let's get going."