One was to take certain precautions when visiting a planet that had yet to be documented by the Federation of Space Travelers. Were the natives friendly to humans? Was there oxygen available or would one have to rely on a respirator? Most importantly, where was the nearest Pub?

Mitch knew none of these things as he began his descent towards the glowing landing strip, flashing the Spee-Lunker’s headlights in the universal sign of peace. He had visited thousands of undocumented planets and never once had a problem, save for the time he nearly made love to the President of Ecabosh Alpha’s beloved house pet. Species confusion aside, Mitch had no reason to believe this pit-stop would be any different.

A mile above the landing pad Mitch first noticed the ground surrounding the landing site was completely charred. “Must be some type of protective shield,” he thought as he ejected from his ship, too close to the ground to pull up. Ship gone, Mitch was about to find himself stranded in the middle of a civil war.