My Every Trespass

Hope is like a poison.
I never intended to find myself in the middle of another war. I certainly never thought to do so while babysitting an angry passel of ingrates and castaways. But there I was, months from the nearest habitable world with only a few weeks air to breathe.
There was no hiding from what we needed to do, anymore than we could hide indefinitely from the aliens who hunted us. We needed to survive. But how?