The leaves rustle, first like it might be no more than a passing herbivore, but then the sound increases, comes from all sides. There's strategy in this, and timing, waiting until two members of the party were looking at their devices and not their surroundings. It's not the behavior of any type of native species.

A dozen blaster barrels piece through the underbrush, the hands holding them and the faces half-hidden by bushes and mottled shadows green as the plants around them.

"Do not resist, humans, or we will shoot."