Carver woke to find himself lying on sand, in broad daylight. He lay there for a moment, trying to work out what had happened. Why was he alive? He could still feel the heavy weight of the Bursa's feet, pressing into his chest, ripping at his bodysuit.
He blinked and sat up. He was sitting on red sand and there was a small dome to his left - gone was the grass and the clouds. It looked like he was back on Mars. Had it all been a dream - a nightmare? He honestly didn't know whether he was glad to be back - or not.
A voice broke into his thoughts.
"Carver? Is that you? Where the fuck have you been, man? We all thought you were dead - that the Rebels killed you." Ben Ascot, his pilot, came out of the dome and strode towards him, astonishment showing clearly on his face. He grabbed Carver's hand and hauled him to his feet. "I don't know whether to slap you, kiss you, or salute you, but damn it's good to see you! What the hell happened to you?"