The silent, strangely iridescent, blueish creature watched through small eyes the scene that had unfolded in front of him. Kirel had first heard the crash not long after the small amount of light that managed to shine through the trees was obscured by something that had to be large. For a planet with two suns, Tar'ul got very little light due to the heavy tree cover. Because of this, every living thing on the planet gave off a slight glow, and the Tar'uk were no exception. 

The crash had generated enough noise and a small tremor in his nearby village, and Kirel had been selected to lead a small team of warriors to the crash site. 

"Kirel? Why are we just sitting here. Let's go down and shoot 'em Kirel, let's go down and shoot 'em!" A smaller Tar'uk, one with what could only be described as a fire in his eyes and a light orange glow to his faint blue skin to match, bothered the elder. 

"Hush, Ali'el. Yetu doesn't want us to kill these creatures, you know that. They could be useful," the eldest of the two spoke his native language in a deep tone, with a slight resonance to it. "We will watch. They might be the ones we've been looking for." 

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Monica's frantic search for survivors was interrupted by the faint sound of static over her communications system. The readout in the left hand corner of her visor showed several numbers; coordinates, and then a small groan emerged over the monitor. Monica immediately felt the color flush from her face and a chill come over her body, even in the temperature-regulated suit. It was O'Malley's serial number. 

Only a handful of soldiers had found their way to their captain, and Monica immediately ordered them to transmit the same message she had from the same coordinates while she began her hunt for Timothy. 

Not long into her walk, Monica ran into another soldier, this time one who she knew by name. [i]Neris[/i]. Oh, God, it was good to see that she was alive. Monica waved her down, and picked up her pace slightly to make her way over to the alien woman, and the man she was dragging on her back. It wasn't Timothy, but at least he was alive. 

She wanted to greet her old companion with a hug, or at least some sort of informal exclamation of her delight to see her alive, but instead maintained professionalism and calm. "I'm glad you're alive, Pilot," she continued, "Have you noticed any more life-signs on your monitor? Lieutenant O'Malley sent me his coordinates, and a short message, but I've been unable to locate him."