How do you get yourself into these situations, Xan?

That was the thought running through his mind as the panda barreled through warp space trying to outmaneuver a dreadnought.

The flashing lights and exploding wings were enough to tell him he’d failed that endeavor. The giant blimp of a ship rained fire from its many many different cannon attachments. He’d attempt to fire at it twice. Only twice. For that, she’d repaid him by blowing a hole through the ship’s core. They dropped out of warp space almost instantly.

“Danger! Hull integrity compromised! Danger! Hull integrity compromised!”

“Yeah yeah, I know!” Xan disabled the secondary thrusters, diverting all power to stabilization. The inertia dampeners would hold. But it was a toss-up of how long he’d be able to keep the Axis airborne. Crap. Why can’t I ever catch a break? He looked out the window, cursing under his breath as he saw the ship breaking apart with nothing he could do. Why did it have to be her?

He saw Erin trying to slow them down with his gravity fields. That was until the section he stood on ripped apart.

“Erin!”

The weasel broke away, along with the other half of the ship holding most of the repairing robots.

In the span of a few short minutes, Xan was down to just his command deck and a singular wing. And he was coming down hard on a giant world he’d never seen before. But he knew it wasn’t Wonder. He cursed, pulling away from the controls.

That spider. Why did it have to be that friggin’ spider?

He dug under the consoles, pulling out the emergency helmet. It expanded to fit his head, Xan sticking Sledge over his back as the sirens continued to blare overhead.

“Warning! Planetary collision imminent! Warning! Planetary collision imminent!”

He sat down on the floor, eyes shutting as he took in a steadying breath. Protocol was clear when it came to planetary descent situations. Stay calm, suit up, and brace for the inevitable impact. Unfortunately, their suits were all near the exit hatch, a part of the ship that had fallen off long before everything else.

He sighed.

Well. Guess there are worse ways to go, huh?

He tried to force a smile, but it was hard to ignore the bitter taste in his mouth. Especially given who it was that sent him spiraling to his doom. He looked back to see the planet approaching through the window. His jaw tightened.

I’ll see you in the Netherworld, you slimy witch!

He braced for impact.

Glass didn’t shatter in his face. Nor did he feel the weight of his planetary descent sending him straight to the deepest depths of the afterlife. Seconds passed without him so much as feeling the ship vibrate. He slowly opened one eye. Then the other.

The world around him was stationary.

“Or…not.”

He rose to his feet finally noticing why his part of the ship had stopped its descent. Surrounding what was left of the hull was a sheen of energy. A field that kept the ship floating in the arm directly before the person Xan could see straining himself to stay upright.

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Erin Tull. His least favorite liaison. The man whose wand was shaking as he held it in the air.

“That stupid weasel,” Xan said.

Erin’s concentration finally broke, the man collapsing to the ground. His field immediately went away.

“Oh cra-!”

The whole ship crashed planet-side, Xan nearly losing his footing, but managing to stay upright. The Axis was low enough the impact wouldn’t kill. Or harm the Axis any more than it already was. As it stood, he was down to the command room and the corner of a corridor.

Stepping out of the wreck, Xan found the heat of the sun burning against his face. He could see crystal blue waters. A tall palm tree. One very exhausted weasel lying in the sand. The last one mumbled a greeting as he laid on his back, panting heavily. Just how much energy did he pull from the signals? Xan walked past his fallen ally, taking a longer look at the world they’d dropped on. It wasn’t just that they’d landed near a lake or a river.

Stretching out in all directions, Xan could only see a vast expanse of open ocean.

“Crap. I take it this ain’t Wonder.”

Erin muttered a response through all his gasping. He managed to stand again, though not before coughing up a storm.

“Sounds like someone let out a little too much.”

“Bite me, mush head,” Erin snapped. He wiped his forehead. “Sweet whiskers. You're welcome, by the way.”

“I was perfectly content with my fate. But thanks.”

He looked towards the sky. Through the haze of light, he couldn’t make out much, but he didn't see a giant armada blotting out the skies. That was probably a good sign. He covered his eyes against the blinding daylight.

“Where’s the kid?” Xan asked.

“Gone. She was near the exit hatch room when it got dislodged.”

Xan’s jaw fell. “What? Erin, you were supposed to-”

“I wasn’t going to leave you to die, tail brain.”

The panda’s words dropped away. Erin pushed past him, making his way to the wreckage of the ship.

Despite the situation, the weasel was eerily calm. He dug under the consoles, pulling apart wires by hand and hooking them up to his wand. The man’s focus was always a point of contention between them, but Xan didn’t chastise him for it this time. Not when it finally hit him why Erin was so composed.

“You can still sense her, can’t you?” Xan asked.

Erin nodded. “Naturally. And if I taught her well, she can sense us too.”

Xan smirked. “Meaning it’s just a matter of finding a way to get to each other, isn't it?”

“And here I assumed you’d flunked out of the academy.”

“Hop on a cactus, twig.”

Erin ignored the insult, returning to the task of rerouting power to his wand. While Xan himself couldn't sense signals, he'd known the weasel long enough to trust his tracking skills. He instead turned his attention to the singular palm tree on the island. With as much power remained from the consoles, he doubted Erin would be able to do anything crazy like float them all the way to Sasha. But they were stranded on an island. That called for some old-fashioned thinking.

Xan powered Sledge on, the hammer humming in his hands as he focused her output into power. He pulled back before smashing through the air, splitting the oversized log with a satisfying crunch. Xan smiled as the tree toppled into the water.

“Yo Erin,” he said. “Your fancy books ever teach you how to build a boat?”

The weasel looked over from the command room, his brow furrowing Xan’s way.

“That…might work, yes,” he said.

His eyes flashed, ears standing at attention.

“Oh no.”

“What?”

Erin’s head whirled towards the sky. Xan tried to follow his gaze, nearly blinding himself in the process. Stupid bright as crap sun! He shaded his eyes, momentarily dazed by the flare.

“They’re here.”

Xan could barely see.

“Who?”

“Who else, mush head?” Erin snapped. “The pirates. Dyrés people.”

His eye pain melted away in an instant, breath catching in his throat. He took a step backward, hugging Sledge close to his chest. Erin dropped his wand, pulling away from the command room and marching straight over to Xan. A heavy smack struck his cheek, the weasel grabbing Xan by the shoulders.

“Focus, panda,” he said. “You’re not her toy anymore.”

Xan stared down at the weasel. There was a fire in his eyes that he'd seen all too many times before. His own gaze shrunk, the weasel letting him go.

“Sasha,” Erin said. “Focus on getting back to Sasha. That’s all that matters right now.”

Xan could only respond with a small nod. He took a short steadying breath, the weasel returning to his wand recharge duty. As much as Xan wanted to berate Erin for the slap, he knew the man wasn’t lying. He locked his attention on the fallen palm tree, switching Sledge’s controls to slicing winds.

Right. Find Sasha. Just focus on finding Sasha.

He swung the hammer, the tree further splitting apart before him. Logs and leaves tore away. The wood caved in. In a matter of minutes, he cut the limb down to a dense semi-hollow tube, scraps of timber splayed out across the island.

Alright, Panther. Just hold out for us, will ya’?

He put Sledge away, getting to work converting it all into somewhat useful boating material.