Hostile territory

Multiple machete blades struck at the tendrils cutting deeper into the flesher. Encouraging the engineers to swing away at an even more frantic pace. Beads of sweat ran down their faces, along the backs of their necks and drenched the tunics of their uniforms.

But they didn't mind, they were just glad that the stubborn tendrils which had entangled themselves to the starships's landing pods, preventing it from taking off were finally giving way. They were tired but understood the urgency of the work at hand to even for a second though they were exhausted. They were all of one mind on the need to get the work done as as fast as they could do they could. They would safely rest once the Sandawana had been freed from the entanglements of the tendrils.