Scenes looking for a novel
Lieutenant Surya Yaa trod down the metal deck of the ship. She left a trail of water puddles and mud. With every step, water slushed in her flooded, wet, muddy boots. Water dripped from her black, tightly curled bushy hair and rifle slung on her back. She had come in from the rain and three feet of water.
Lieutenant Yaa trudged through water up to her hips. Occasionally, she had to work her feet free, for they would sink in the mud. The mud stuck to her boots. The wind was brisk. Waves washed against her, sometimes, up to her waist. Rain pockmarked the water. She carried her rifle in her hands.
She was returning from patrol. She had scouted the area. She was heading toward the ship. Waves washed up the entrance ramp.
She climbed the ramp to the entrance. Water ran down the ramp.
Lieutenant Yaa knelt on the beach of what passed for land on this planet. She was up to her shoulders in water. Wind blew in her face. Waves lapped against her up to her neck on occasion. The sun was shining brightly. She rest the butt of her rifle on her leg with her left hand. In her right hand, she held a pair of binoculars to her eyes. She was watching some landing crafts carrying Yauntzy.
The Yauntzy were approaching her. Soon, she said, to the twenty men with her, “Head for the trees. Hide in them.”
Everybody stood up. They were hip deep in water. They trudged toward a grove of trees. The trees were supported out of the water by their roots.
The men entered the grove. They climbed onto the roots, hoping to leave the water. Lieutenant Yaa climbed a tree into the branches.