The Graali senator sat hunched at the Panther's interrogation table, her glowing eyes fixed on the wall across the room. Up folded his arms and leaned back in his chair, a picture of nonchalance.

"Well, Senator," he said. "It appears that the tables have turned."

The senator's hate-filled gaze flicked to Up. Behind him, Taz leaned against the wall, one boot up, examining her knife.

"So it's your choice," Up continued. "We can do this the easy way – or your way."

Taz straightened up, and the senator laughed, a low, grinding sound.

"Is this really the scariest soldier you've got, Commander?" she said. "Am I supposed to be afraid of her?"

Taz walked casually over to the table. Before the senator's laugh had echoed away, Taz was behind her, one hand on a scaly horn, the other pressing the knife to her throat. The senator made a rasping sound.

"Like I said, Senator," Up said, still relaxed in his chair. "It's up to you."

They eyed one another, and then the Senator raised her hands. Up nodded, and Taz released her.

"You think the robots are going to stick around once they realize how fallible – how weak – their allies are?" Up said. "Robots have no compassion. Or sense of loyalty. They'll do what is logical for them – and right now, that would be hanging you and the rest of your backstabbing people out to dry."

The Senator hesitated, a little too long, and Taz wrenched her head back again.

"The Panther has its cannons pointed at your planet, Senator. Specifically, on the very government complex where you seem to get such sick pleasure out of drugging and torturing alien ambassadors. And I don't see any robot ships coming to stop us. What'll it be?"

Up held his gaze steady until the Senator, still straining away from Taz's knife, seemed to deflate.

"All right!" she gasped. "I'll tell you everything."

-oOo-

Taz was practically bouncing in her seat as they flew back to the Cazadora, still high from the success of their mission. "You should have seen the look on your face, Up! I swear it nearly made me mierda mis pantalones, it's no wonder she couldn't wait to tell you all about her little robot amigos."

"I think that knife of yours may have had something to do with it, too," Up replied as he switched the controls of the Arrow to autopilot. He was smiling.

"Arrow, this is the Panther."

"Go ahead," Up said to the radio as Taz put her feet up on the control panel, pulling out her knife again and polishing it with the bottom of her shirt.

"We've got the Senator secured here and the Graali have agreed to sign a peace treaty for her safe return."

"Good," said Up. "I still don't trust the bastards, but it's a start. Thanks for picking her up for us, by the way."

"Anything for you, Commander. Panther out."

"Anything for you, Commander," Taz imitated, punching Up on the shoulder. He rubbed it ruefully. "The people love you."

"Oh, go do something useful, like check the radar, will you?"

Taz swung around to look at the screen, its pulsing green lights showing exactly what it should: the Arrow, the much larger Panther, and farther away, their destination, the Cazadora. Glowing dully in purple were the Graali planet and its thirteen moons, and there, in red-

"Up, we have a problem."

"Well, don't drag it out," he said.

The Arrow's sensors caught the same thing she did, and the ship's lights began to flash red. "Enemy ship approaching mark 2324 – it's robotic!"

"Weapons," Up said, switching the controls back to manual, and Taz unbelted herself to sprint back to the weapons array, still keeping half an eye on the radar.

"Up, there are three of them!" she called. "Closing fast – they see us!"

"Engaging the cloaking device," Up said, pressing buttons faster than she could keep track of as she swung into the artillery seat, gearing up the cannons. The Arrow only had four – she wasn't meant to be a combat ship.

"Panther, this is Commander Up. Do you read me?"

Silence.

"They're blocking transmissions," Taz said, her eyes scanning the sensors.

"And the cloaking device," Up confirmed, then turned to her. "It's fight or flight."

She looked at him, and at the robot fighter now looming in the viewscreen behind him. "Let's get it done."

"Shields up," he said, turning back to the screen. "I'm going to try and get in their blind spots. Fire when you get a clean shot, but don't-"

"Don't waste them, sí, lo sé," she said, gripping the trigger. "Just fly, Commander."

Up, in his early career, had spent a short time as a fighter pilot, this she knew from the stories that cycled the mess hall. That's when, they said, he had earned the silver wings that adorned his dress uniform – though he'd never spoken of it to her. Even with the Arrow's limited maneuverability, Up dodged several rounds of fire from the foremost robot ship and darted directly below it. Taz aimed the first cannon upwards.

"Hasta luego, que tostadoras puta madre!" she hollered with glee as she squeezed the trigger and the robot ship exploded in a shower of flame. She heard Up laugh as the Arrow rolled to avoid another blast from the second robot ship and flew underneath it -

The Arrow rocked suddenly, and warning lights flashed everywhere. "Direct hit!" said Up. "Shields are down!"

"Maldita sea!" said Taz, peering at the sensors. "Another hit like that-"

A second shot skimmed the Arrow's wing, sending the ship reeling in an uncontrolled spin.

"Aft cannons are gone!" Taz called, as Up's fingers flew over the controls. "I've only got one left!"

"Well then, we'd better make it count!" Up shouted back, and swung the Arrow to face the two oncoming robot ships head on.

Taz pulled the trigger.

Their last cannon flew straight – and straight into the robots' oncoming missile. The force of the collision, and resulting explosion, pummelled the Arrow with shrapnel and debris and sent them whirling. Taz, clutching the arms of her chair, watched the radar screen in wonder.

"Up – we actually got them! The closest ship – it's been destroyed by the explosion!"

"Then there's still one left," said Up, sounding grim. "And we're losing power."

Taz swung herself out of the weapons array and peered over his shoulder at the controls. He was right. With no weapons, no shields, no power, the Arrow was failing. Soon they would be dead in the water – dead in space.

"What do we do?" she said.

"Find a place to land her," he replied, turning knobs, testing buttons, trying to give the ship a little more juice.

Taz threw herself at the navigational controls. "We're closest to Graali's fifth moon," she said. "We're practically orbiting it now."

Up looked over at the screen, and nodded. "We can make it."

With a last effort, the Arrow turned toward the moon, small and orange. A sudden explosion rocked the Arrow once more and Taz, who'd forgotten to belt herself in again, flew across the cabin to land hard against the ship's wall. Then everything began to spin out of control.

-oOo-

It was bright, far too bright, after the constant semi-darkness of space. Up raised his hand to shield his eyes as he looked around the wreckage that had once been the Arrow. He was lying amidst a pile of navigational rubble, beneath a smashed viewscreen. The Graali system's sun streamed through what was left of the jagged glass. And he was still breathing.

"Guess we have oxygen," he said, coughing up some dust. He carefully extracted himself from the remains of the pilot's chair and stood up, stretching each muscle in turn. He was relatively unharmed. He'd been lucky.

"Taz!"

She lay very still, on the other side of the cabin, a shaft of sunlight making the blood shine red on her cheek. He was at her side in moments, feeling for a pulse, checking her injuries. She was alive, and breathing, the blood stemming mainly from a shallow gash at her temple. Up stood and released the panel with the emergency supplies, thankfully intact. Dehydrated food, water, blankets. A first aid kit.

She stirred as he knelt over her, removing her headband and gently cleaning the wound. "Up…" she said, weakly.

"Shh," he said. "We made it to the moon, but the Arrow's in pieces. How do you feel?"

"Like mierda," she said, licking her dry lips. "You?"

"I'm fine," he said, handing her a water bottle. "Drink some, then sit up when you're ready. I'm going to check out the landscape."

They'd landed in a desert, or at least that was the closest thing Up could compare it to. He could already feel the heat of it seeping through his heavy grey uniform. The view was desolate, and fiercely orange. He took a tentative step.

The ground sprang back with surprising buoyancy and Up gave a yelp as he was thrown off-balance.

"Que pasa?" called Taz urgently.

"I think this whole planet's just one big goddamn trampoline," Up said, testing his weight a little more cautiously. The ground had just enough give so that when he applied pressure, it pushed back an equal amount. "We're going to be walking with a literal bounce in our steps, Taz."

"Gran," she said, coming up behind him, one hand on her head. He reached over and adjusted the bandage beside her eye. "I've always wanted my own backyard trampoline." They stood quietly, taking in their surroundings, their situation. "I guess we should try the radio?"

The Arrow's long-range radio was lying somewhere in the wreckage, probably in as many pieces as the ship, but there was a smaller one among the emergency kits. Taz fiddled with the dials as Up took inventory of their supplies and starting packing two backpacks.

"Too much interference," she said. "I can't get a signal."

Up had expected that. "We're in a valley," he said, handing her one of the packs. "We've got to head for those mountains in the distance. They're our only shot. Feel like taking a hike?"

"Or a bounce," she said. "Guess we don't have much choice, do we?"

-oOo-

They walked for hours, but it felt like days. It took time to adjust to the buoyant ground, and Taz felt muscles engaging in her legs she hadn't known existed. The fierce Graali sun burned. Her Ranger jacket had long ago been relegated to her pack, and Up had stripped off his uniform from the waist up. Sweat soaked both of them, and her white tank top was drenched through, but she was too tired to worry about that. Her black combat books simmered heavily on her feet, and the metal of her dog tags grew so hot she had to put them in her pocket so they wouldn't scorch her skin. She pushed on, determined to keep up, vowing not to be the first to complain. The mountains looked no closer when Up finally stopped, the sun inching lower in the sky.

"There's no sense in killing ourselves trying to get there," he said, dropping his pack. Taz gratefully did the same. "Let's make camp."

Up bent to open his pack, and Taz saw a long scar across his back, running diagonally from shoulder to hip. There was another story she'd never heard. It wasn't the only scar Up carried, but certainly the worst. His arms were raked with traces of battles past. Taz flopped to the ground. She'd always secretly admired Up's arms. Now she was going to have to add the rest of his torso to that list, too.

Up gave her an odd look, and she realized she was staring. Consiga un apretón, Taz. This is no time to start mooning over how good your commanding officer looks with his shirt off. Get a grip.

The temperature was much more bearable now that the sun was beginning to set. They sat together and ate wretched dehydrated spaghetti with meatballs. Up laughed at the look on her face as she chewed.

"What I wouldn't give for a nice tortilla," she said, swallowing with a grimace. "Maybe with some pico de gallo."

"You'll have to make some suggestions to the chef once we're back on the Cazadora," Up said. Neither of them mentioned the distinct possibility that they might not be returning at all. Taz knew as well as Up did that getting this radio to work was a long shot even once they got to the mountains – and as far as they knew, no one had seen them go down to the surface. The Cazadora would have to search all thirteen moons to find them – if they didn't just assume that the Arrow had been destroyed in the battle.

"There are enough supplies here to last a week," said Up. "More, if we stretch it. I reckon it'll take a few days to reach the mountains."

Taz nodded, and wondered if this was it for them. To die of starvation, or heatstroke, on some alien moon, completely alone. She looked at their shadows, side by side and growing long in the dusky sunset. Well, not completely alone.

Night fell, and the temperature continued to drop. Taz put her jacket back on, and Up used the emergency kit to start a small fire. Without wood, it would be difficult to keep it going once their limited fuel ran out. They pulled out blankets and stretched out on either side of the flame, as close to its paltry heat as they dared get. Taz could see her breath now, crystallizing in the air before her. She shivered. Sleep wasn't coming, and she was half afraid if it did, she'd never wake up again.

"Dead goddammit," said Up, after a while, and she could hear the cold in his voice, too. "This must be one of those desert moons with extreme temperature shifts from day to night."

"No kidding," said Taz, but her heart wasn't in it. Her brain was starting to feel fuzzy with cold.

"Body heat," Up said then, and she blinked. "It's the only way we'll have a chance at still being alive in the morning, come on."

Taz hesitated, peering through the darkness to try and see his outline.

"As charming as I find it that you would rather die than snuggle up with me," Up said, his tone unreadable. "Don't be an idiot. Get over here."

He was right, of course. Gathering up her blanket, she dashed around the fire, shivering as the cold night air hit her anew. Up was laying on his side, with his arms open, and she practically dove into them as he arranged both blankets over them. He was shivering too, but his body felt warm to her.

"Your lips are blue," he said softly, as they lay face to face in the dim light of the fire. "Dammit, Taz, don't you keep any body heat at all?"

"Too skinny," she chattered, and he pulled his arm back from her and started maneuvering his way out of his shirt again. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"I know it may seem counterintuitive," he said, now unbuttoning her jacket and helping it over her shoulders. "But it's the best way to share heat."

His skin was like a furnace as he wrapped his bare arms tightly around her and pulled her closer. She let his warmth seep into her, feeling her body begin to relax as she buried her face in his neck, inhaling the musky scent of him.

"So what if it was Lieutenant-Commander Tripp you crash-landed with, and not me?" she said sleepily. "Would you be cuddling with him on some dark alien moon instead?"

She felt Up chuckle, and pull her closer still. "No, mi querida," he said. "I'd only do this for you."

-oOo-

Up woke as the sun began to peek over the mountains, and he was still alive, and Taz was still in his arms, her breathing steady and reassuring. He felt a strange sort of peace steal over him, and for a moment imagined staying like this, the alien sun just beginning to warm the fresh dawn air, waking up next to her every day for the rest of his life-

Then he realized that was exactly what was going to happen if they didn't get to that mountain soon. The rest of his life wouldn't be very long.

He gently jostled Taz. "Hey."

She blinked up at him, looking surprised to find him so close. "Buenos días."

"We should get moving before the sun gets too high."

They untangled themselves and set about packing up. Neither said anything, but something felt different about this morning. Taz had looked at him almost – shyly – before swinging her backpack over her shoulder and setting off – and shy was not a word he tended to associate with Taz.

They bounce-walked until the sun was well overhead, and then Up insisted they break for lunch. Today's entree was supposedly Pad Thai.

"Pedro always used to complain about these things when he took that survival course in third year," said Taz, slurping up a noodle with a smacking sound. "I never really believed him until now. I didn't realized anything could taste this bad."

Something about hearing her say that name put a definite damper on Up's good mood. "How is the Garbage-sniffer?" he asked casually, twirling his own noodles on his fork.

Taz frowned. "I wish you wouldn't call him that. He changed a lot while you were away, Up. He's not so bad."

Up raised his hands in innocence. "I guess you'd know."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," Up said, feeling unreasonably angry. "You two seem to be quite – close."

Taz stood and put her hands on her hips, looking like a cross between a fearsome Starship Ranger and a really pissed-off teenaged girl. "Are you talking about when the idiota tried to kiss me? If you hadn't noticed, I decked him a good one for that, and he won't be trying it again soon. He's just started talking to me again."

"That's wonderful," said Up, and Taz stamped her foot in frustration.

"Oh, why are you so estúpido, Up? No es Pedro que me importa, imbécil."

He had no idea what she'd said, but there was an insult in there somewhere. Taz started throwing things into her pack. "Vamos," she said, throwing a water bottle at him roughly. "I can't wait to get off this moon ridículo."

They bounce-walked in silence for the rest of the afternoon, Taz muttering the occasional Spanish insult under her breath, and Up stalking along behind her, watching the sweat trickle down her back, between her shoulder blades and disappear into the damp white of her shirt. Her skin was growing browner by the hour, her tank top turned translucent at the small of her back. The sun had just begun to set, the cooling temperatures a welcome relief, when Taz stopped so quickly that Up nearly walked into her.

"What?" he said in annoyance. Then he saw what she was looking at.

A snake, black and shiny against the smooth orange landscape, had reared its head and was watching them curiously over dripping fangs, its body quivering, tense. Poised to strike.

It was also fifteen feet long.

"I suppose your zapper's in your bag?" asked Up.

Taz nodded, her eyes fixed on the snake.

"Mine too."

A long pause, waiting, sizing them up, and then the snake struck. Up and Taz dove in opposite directions, rolling and bouncing their way out of its reach. Struggling to find his balance, Up turned to see the snake rearing again, its eyes fixed on Taz, who was scrambling backwards as fast as she could.

The snake was faster. Taz's scream rang in Up's ears as he launched himself at the creature, using the terrain to jump farther than should have been possible. Wrapping his arms around its neck, he squeezed as hard as he could and hung on for dear life as the snake released Taz and shook itself, trying to throw him off. A scrabbling sound, and a deafening blast, and suddenly the snake went limp. Up found himself falling to the ground, and bouncing up again, finally coming to a stop in front of Taz. She was standing unsteadily, her pants torn and damp with something darker than sweat. Her zapper was still raised in her hands.

As he got to his feet, Taz let the weapon drop and swayed to the side. He caught her as she fell, suddenly a dead weight in his arms. Lowering her gently to the ground, he carefully pulled aside the torn pant leg.

The snake had bitten her in the thigh, a deep, oozing wound, bleeding profusely and turning greenish at the edges.

"Venom," she said, leaning heavily against his chest. "Isn't it?"

"Yes," he said, and tore her pant leg off completely, using it as a tourniquet around her thigh. Reaching into his pack, he reached for the first aid kit and cleaned up the puncture as best he could. Taz grit her teeth and threw her head back as he dabbed at it with a disinfectant. "The doctors on the Cazadora could whip you up an antidote, no problem." I can't. Who knows how long you have until the venom takes hold?

"Well," Taz said, and he knew she was trying to sound brave for him. "We'd better get back to the Cazadora, then."

Their fight was forgotten. Though she was in no condition for it, her only hope now was to keep moving toward those mountains. They continued late into the freezing night, her leaning on his arm, listening for snakes, feeling their way through the darkness, until finally she stumbled one time too many, her knees buckling under her. It killed him to see her in so much pain.

"Sleep," Up said, hoping desperately that what he was saying was true. "Sleep will give you strength."

This time when he pulled her close it was her skin that was burning up, though she shook more violently than ever. She tossed feverishly, not-quite-sleeping. He held her as tightly as he dared, praying to a God long dead that this wasn't it, this wasn't how she was going to go down, not to some stupid snake on an alien moon, not a fighter like Taz.

"How come you never tell me stories, Up?" she said suddenly, her speech slightly slurred.

"Stories?" he said, surprised.

"About you. Before we met. I know so little about you. I don't even know how old you are."

"There's not much to know," Up said quietly, after a moment. "I grew up in an orphanage. I have no family to speak of. When I was eighteen I joined the Academy. The rest you can read about in the history feeds."

"I don't want to read about it," she said. "I want to hear it from you."

"Okay," said Up. She was still shivering. "What do you want to know?"

"How did you get that scar on your back?"

Up closed his eyes. "The big one? That would be from the time I took down a Bird of Prey with my bare hands."

"¿Qué?"

She nestled in closer, and he began. His words seemed to soothe her. He'd tell her stories all night if he had to.

"It all started when Tripp got into trouble with some pissed off Klingons in a space bar…"

-oOo-

In the morning, they realized just how far they had managed to travel after night fell. The mountain loomed in front of them, and it was only then that Up realized their next biggest problem: how they were going to climb it.

Taz was awake, but listless, and the greenish hue was spreading up her leg, the edges of the puncture wound gone completely black. She looked up at the summit with trepidation, and refused to meet his eyes. With her leg worse, there was no way she could do it, but she wouldn't admit defeat to him. He'd have to take matters into his own hands.

"Well, Taz," he said, putting his pack on backwards, around the front. "It's a good thing that I can move faster than both of us combined."

He reached down and helped her clamber up onto his back. He shifted her weight, careful to avoid her injured leg.

"Comfy?" he said. She thwacked him on the shoulder, and then rested her head there.

It was a steep climb on unstable terrain, and rough when you're balancing the weight of two people instead of one. Up had to stop a few times to rest, and Taz seemed a little less coherent each time he set her down and picked her back up again. Her fever was growing worse.

It was late afternoon when they finally reached the summit, and Up's strength was spent. He set Taz down gently on the springy ground, and pulled out the radio before exhaustion could overtake him.

"Cazadora, are you there? Come in, Cazadora. This is a distress call from the fifth moon of the Graali planet. Two Starship Rangers in need of immediate medical assistance. I repeat, this is a distress call…"

He set the message to repeat, crawled back to Taz, and waited.

It might have been minutes, but it could have been hours before the radio crackled to life again. Taz stirred restlessly beside him.

"Commander Up? Come in, Commander Up. This is the Cazadora."

Up fairly flew to the radio. "This is Up. Tripp, am I glad to hear from you."

"We've got your location, Commander. The Panther is sending a ship to pick you up, they'll be there any minute. Is Ensign Taz with you?"

"Yes, and she needs immediate medical attention. A bite from a venomous snake – it's bad, she's been feverish since last night."

"There's a doctor on board the Panther's ship. She'll be in good hands."

"Thanks, Tripp," said Up. "I owe you one."

"I'm just glad we found you, Commander."

Up returned to Taz, and carefully lifted her head, spilling a little water, the last from his bottle, into her mouth. She opened her eyes as he gently brushed her hair back from her face.

"It's going to be okay, Taz," he said. "We're going home."