I stared out into the sea of red and white. These little…things were moving around—I couldn’t tell you what they were. They were picking up pieces of my ship and moving them around. I shivered and felt the whole ground quake.

I can’t understand what they’re saying. They speak words foreign to what we learned in preparation, these little reds. Maybe if I attempted to communicate, they would understand. Or, if not that, flee.

My limbs fumbled as I tried making my way out of the ship. They were tangled together in a haphazard nest of tendrils. I cry for help, but the little reds do not understand. They fall back, yelling into their coverings.

I take a step out and breathe in the cold air. My lungs felt as though they had been free from binding, and I could truly breathe again. I look at the lonely red who still stood.

“Tell me, little one, can you aid me in saving my planet?”