ã€ŠFrontier Fantasyã€‹


 Frontier Fantasy -Chap 1

    Everything in his entire life had, in one way or another, led up to this moment, and he was staring out of the *<i>New Horizons* </i>to observe it in all its glory.

    It was almost too much to take in at once. Eight years of engineering school, two years of colony training, and six months of survival courses felt woefully insubstantial for the sight that the engineer beheld.

    ¡°Looks kinda like a rotten tomato with blue mold, yeah?¡± Trey queried from behind his station. All four of the pioneers stared in awe at the sight before them.

    Red, green, and white continents laid between blue oceans that stretched more like rivers than Earth¡¯s long expanses of blue water. Said seas also provided a large amount of islands dotted between them, adding a change in color and texture to the vast bodies of water.

    The planet had no name; only a simple jumble of letters and numbers indicated it belonged to the solar system it resided in. The red planet shared many similarities with earth¡ªGoldilocks zone, mix of every conceivable environment, and large life sustaining oceans. The only lingering question was whether or not the team of four pioneers could prepare it for the arrival of the main colony ship.

    Tasked with setting up an initial field camp, their ship was outfitted with several critical systems that would ensure their job was actually possible¡ªtechnology and machines suitable for the construction of buildings, factories, and farms were held in the lower decks, their massive size taking up much of the hold. The whole thing lent itself to a semi-modular design; a large bridge dominated the rest of the block-like structure, gray cubes comprising the train-like craft. It allowed for quick detachment and reorganization at the station¡ªthough, that was hardly of any use in atmosphere.

    With initial views of the cosmic body done, the ship was taken into high atmosphere for ease of surveying the red planet. Not having much to do until they finally hit ground, Harrison focused on the others in the meantime, poking his nose in the activities of the crew, given his speciality left him with little to do at the moment

    Trey¡ªthe group¡¯s so-called ¡®Executive Director of Agricultural Expansion¡¯¡ª was busy checking the data on local flora and fauna. He raised his voice above the noise of the group setting into motion. ¡°Sensors are saying there¡¯s plenty of plants and an ecosystem, but I think it must¡¯ve shit the bed after the warp.¡±

    ¡°Picking up something funky?¡± Harrison questioned, turning away from his work to face the farmer.

    Trey was affixed to the screen, nearly unreadable charts and topographical map data popping in and out on the monitor. ¡°Yessir, it''s pointin¡¯ out multiple clumps of fauna almost on top of each other in odd little shapes amongst the oceans and rivers.¡±

    The engineer spared a curious glance before he ultimately ignored the statement. ¡°How about the ecosystem? Anything to pick up about it?¡±

    The farmer¡¯s stress evaporated as more data poured in. ¡°Besides the sensor hiccups in the oceans, there seems to be a suspected abundance of large, aggressive bastards. Plenty of stock for the food chain, so nothing particularly wrong here.¡±

    Despite the growing curiosity in the local ecosystem, Harrison decided to nudge the head chemist for her input on the planet. ¡°How about you O¡¯Hara?¡±

    ¡°Computer says air should be hospitable, if not a bit in excess of oxygen lingering around,¡± the chemist grumbled, continuing to flip through readings. ¡°Apparently there¡¯s some trace amounts of thorium in the air too; it''s a known carcinogen, so that¡¯s just dandy.¡±

    The final member of their crew¡ªTracy, the technician¡ª cleared her throat to no response, a growing frustration overpowering the polite attempt to garner attention. Failing to achieve the desired result, she slapped her palm on the table, only speaking when the crew¡¯s jaws closed for more than a few seconds. ¡°Somethings wrong with the power systems in the cargo bay, I¡¯ll be back.¡±

    Having said what she needed to, she quickly and quietly shuffled to the door, exiting the bridge and disappearing towards the rest of the ship. They suspected something of the sort would happen after a jump through a space anomaly. Harrison¡¯s mind lingered on the subject for some time. The paranormal crack in space appeared sometime ten years ago, outside the solar system¡¯s asteroid belt.

    After many months of poking and prodding with tethers, it was confirmed to be a one-way passage to a solar system beyond the milky way. Despite that, the discovery of a planet with life on it soon after was hailed as a divine gift. After hundreds of years yelling into the cosmos hoping for a response, humanity found another solar body¡ªit held the same gift as Earth and life persisted just the same.

    Decades of endless wars, pollution, and climate turmoil pushed Humanity¡¯s own efforts for persistence beyond their rock. Colonies were quickly placed on their sister planets, yet none could be considered fully livable places outside the reinforced glass domes.

    The great constructs reminded the engineer of his childhood. He remembered stories his grandmother would share of old farms hundreds of years prior, with orchard trees upon green pastures. Every day was spent looking out through the reinforced enclosures at the farming sectors. It wasn¡¯t like they weren¡¯t as green as his grandmother said¡ªbut it lacked the blue sky, the roaming clouds, and the welcoming feeling of the true outdoors.

    The agricultural sector was meant for efficiency; hydroponic buildings stacked on top of each other high into the confines of the dome. When he finally visited the farming sectors, he couldn¡¯t help but feel a lack of care in them. He wanted to be a part of those farming communities his grandmother spoke so fondly of. He wanted to have friendly neighbors and to be able to appreciate the green pastures.

    His parents had different plans for him however. With the slightest interest in anything technical, his parents swept him into a specialized school by his fourteenth birthday. He did like learning how things worked¡ªmechanical to electrical systems were a wonder to his young mind. Yet, his farming dreams had no purchase in his life; he soon graduated college with a masters degree from a prestigious school on Mars. Years went by while the graduate moved from factory to spaceyard, working on implementing his knowledge to the best of his ability.

    When the space anomaly was discovered and revealed the living world behind its curtains, he had already given up on his dreams and resigned himself to his work. He had ignored the promising red planet for years. It wasn''t until he was all but kidnapped and ¡®persuaded¡¯ to participate in the future survey and colonization efforts.

    He didn¡¯t even mind it at the time; his life had become a haze to him over the years of working anyways. Neither the domes or orbital stations offered any sort of community or companionship, only the coldest of small talk filling the empty husk of human connection within his life. Each day passed and went with the same routine that only differed with where he was staying or working. The idea of colonizing a new world at least provided a glimmer of hope for an adventure¡ªor anything besides the monotonous repetitive days that felt like sandpaper to his soul.

    Stop. He was getting distracted. It happened often as of late. Perhaps it was a way to seep some built up stress away¡ªhe hadn¡¯t even had time to consider that there would be no return to his gray and black life back on whatever station he found himself working at.

    A light on the technician¡¯s monitor took him away from his thoughts. After giving more than a passing glance to it, he observed the flickering screen. Walking closer to the light, he pored over the flashing information and an odd few diagnostics of the ship had shown themselves; not only were the batteries on the ship somehow charging¡ªdespite no turbines being set up¡ªbut the ship had begun to list to the right. The charge was quickly reaching dangerous levels as he stared at the information, dumbfounded.

    Static crept along Harrison''s Arms, his hair standing on end. ¡°Somethings not right; we¡¯re flying into something!¡± He pulled himself towards the front of the bridge to take manual control of the ship and attempted to pull the ship out of motion.

    It was far too late.

    As he stared blankly out the windshield, a ball of lightning snapped and flailed in place, the ship slipping into its electric embrace. A clunk sounded out from the back of the ship, the electric locks failing to keep the modular ship together.

    In a moment of slow motion, he felt the anomaly charge up with a bone shaking whirr, the lights on the bridge flickering and glowing as bright as their casings would allow before shattering. In a fraction of a second, the ship was shocked and lost all power. The engineer¡¯s muscles spasmed underneath the shock. He felt his body slip and fall to the ground¡ªhis arms failing to obey his commands to catch himself as gravity pulled his temple down into the terminal beneath him.

    With fleeting consciousness, he observed a small pocket of wetlands soar closer through the glass as the spacecraft barreled downward towards the land. Darkness closed in around his peripheral vision as he fought and failed to do something, anything, about the imminent crash between him and the terrain. A final scream and another guttural yell echoed through the bridge by the other pioneers as red trees grabbed the nose of the craft.

    \- - - - -

    Everything hurt. His eyes couldn''t open without straining the tender flesh around his eyelids. He turned his head to the side in an attempt to gather any information on his surroundings. The efforts were quickly stopped, a searing pain in his neck flaring for every degree he tried to rotate it. Surrendering himself to moving only his eyes, he did what he could to take in the situation.

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    From his position on the ground, he saw a sliver of red star-shaped leaves flowing in a soft wind. The bark of the trees were a tinge of gray mixed with the browns he was familiar with¡ªsimilar to birch trees of old Earth. A blue sky peeked out between branches with comforting white-gray clouds, offering a dual color painting beyond the canopy of red.

    Along with the flickering screens, the blinding orange sun peeked underneath the lip of the windshield. Some of the rays settled on his limp arm, comfortably heating it up with its warm embrace. Tired and in pain, he was in no shape to get up. Though, he wasn¡¯t sure if it was because it was his body refusing to do anything, or if he subconsciously appreciated the natural sunlight. Either way, he was content to lay down.

    Just as he was nearing sleep, a raspy breath and wet slaps struck him from his sleep. Pushing back the pain, he tilted his head to the side once more to observe the rest of the bridge. A chunk of wiring and metal scrap obscured his view, imploring him to get up to inspect the noise.

    He only now felt how dry and flaky his skin had become as he shakily pushed his arm underneath himself to lift his torso up. Each slight movement threatened his body to fail and crush his efforts, yet his muscles slowly regained their standing and pushed his weight around. He was able to grab onto the nearby chair implanted into the floor. He wasn¡¯t counting or anything, but the slow, draining movements of having to use more than one limb to simultaneously pull himself up as well as keep the rest of his body upright felt like hours. Finally, he heaved his torso and both legs onto the chair in a mock fetal position.

    He was able to settle into a sitting position with little issue. Taking a few moments to control his breathing and regain himself, he began the process of standing up.

    He pushed off the chair, his muscles screaming under the stress. Lurching forward, he managed to throw himself into a position he could work with, his ragged breaths and dripping sweat churning his stomach. Oh, how he wished for a shot of morphine.

    Leaning on one arm, he allowed himself to rest his aching muscles against the console. This moment of respite allowed himself to finally listen to what his body was trying to tell him as he took a few moments to check his body for injuries. Undoubtedly there were going to be bruises and some cuts of sorts, but it was better than he feared.

    His right arm wasn¡¯t too bad with a few light bruises and a small cut on his thumb. Both his legs were much similar despite their quaking as he attempted to maintain balance while lifting each leg up to inspect it.

    He moved onto the arm holding himself up to inspect it. Amazingly, the back of his left arm didn¡¯t have any sort of bruises or cuts, yet upon bringing the underside of his wrists up, he saw what had been nagging at his subconscious. From the right side of his wrist to the inside of his elbow was a long and narrow gash. He couldn¡¯t tell how deep it was as the dark caked blood covered any further inspection.

    The gnarly laceration ate at his mind for a few moments as he evaluated the severity of it. A worry of infection crossed his train of thought, and he resigned himself to get medical treatment later.

    He quickly shifted his mindset to finding out what happened to the rest of the pioneers within the silent ship. Thus, he pushed himself to remember how to walk again.

    One leg was brought up, forward, and down onto the floor. Pushing off with his hand, he allowed the second leg to repeat the same move. One more step here. Another step there. The once shaking legs had begun to file back into normalcy and allowed him unhindered movement.

    He made it to the next ¡®room¡¯ over the bridge. The ship¡¯s front housing was separated into 4 sections for each of the pioneers; Trey and O¡¯Hara¡¯s sections were positioned on the left side of the bridge and both consisted of scanning controls in conjunction with other electronics such as communications.

    On the right side of the bridge lay both his and Tracy¡¯s stations. Her¡¯s consisted of diagnostics and controls for the ship''s electrical and mechanical parts. In front of that was his measly console dashboard, with two small interfaces for manual piloting and weapons.

    His job as engineer and overseer of automation forced him into the makeshift pilot role, since the others had more important jobs on the ship. Besides piloting, the craft hardly had any weapons¡ªmostly just automated anti-personnel turrets on the hull that were designed for potential hostile wildlife.

    With a lack of weapons in combination with the forced pilot role, he hardly had to do anything until they got planetside¡ªand both of those jobs were mostly automated anyway.

    Slowly making his way over to Trey¡¯s section, he noted the faintly bunker-like aesthetic of the left side of the bridge¡ª consoles filled with buttons, levers, and switches lining both the top and bottom of their stations giving only but a small slit for viewing between them.

    Getting closer, he was able to see the silhouette of Trey¡¯s body in his chair, but he wasn''t able to make out any remarkable details under lack of lighting in the bunkers. His anxiousness grew as he beheld the stationary body. He tried to call out, but his voice couldn''t produce more than a raspy breath pushed out his throat.

    He couldn¡¯t say he was friends with any of the pioneers, but he did like Trey¡¯s energy and the random sayings he could never quite understand. The agricultural expert certainly knew how to break the ice when they first met at the training camp; showing up drunk on the first day cemented his intoxicated smile into Harrison¡¯s head.

    The engineer moved forward and was in the process of clearing his throat to speak once more, when a flicker of light illuminated his lifeless coworker. His voice caught in his throat at the gruesome sight that laid before him.

    The farmer''s face was contorted into a horrified visage to express his last moments. A chunk of scrap metal once belonging to his console had embedded itself firmly into his neck, continuing down to his stomach. Slick blood drained from the wound, and slowly slipped down the face of the metal.

    Harrison¡¯s emotions caught up with him just as soon as his stomach had. He keeled over the nearest console and expelled what was yet to be digested out of his stomach.

    His eyes watery, and his throat burning from retching, he finally found his voice to let out a weak mix between a wail and a squeak. The events were finally lining up within his head and the true depth of the situation settled upon him.

    Anxiety, disgust, pain, and fear welled behind his eyes, heavy breaths taken to calm the surging vortex of instinctual responses his brain had brought forth under the blanket of stress. He wanted to run out of the bridge with all his might to escape the sight, but he stayed there, resting on the console as the brief flickering of lights illuminated what once was living.

    After a few minutes, the engineer was able to tear his gaze away from the image before him. He stumbled down the hallway between the two sides of the bridge to the door that separated him from the rest of the modules. Each step had been vertigo inducing as his unsteady legs were barely enough to push himself forward.

    His train of thought was a wreck as it bounced from emotions, to images, to brief conversations with himself over what to do next. Meandering to the panel aside the door, his pointer finger pushed it in to open it. He waited for a few seconds and tried once more. When the mechanism failed to respond a second time, he stood there with increasingly irritated twitches of his fingers at not being able to escape what lay only 10 meters away. A surge of primal rage burst forth at the inanimate object and his rage-addled mind decided that the best option was to punch the panel, the light metal giving in slightly.

    When the door didn''t open, the engineer gave a frustrated yell at the object and rested his forehead against the door. Emotions crumbled under him, and so did his smile as he laughed at the situation. Allowing gravity do its job, Harrison slowly knelt down to the floor and through blurry tears.

    Until he heard it again.

    The raspy breaths paired with more wet sloshing, although much louder now. They came from the other side of the door. Reinvigorated, Harrison pushed himself up for hopefully the last time today and made an effort to understand what was wrong with the door. In a clear mind for the first time since waking up, the engineer took a step back to observe the issue at hand.

    He barely saw it, but the door was actually already opened¡ªonly a small crack existed between the frame and the door. The only way to open it would be to pry it open. Though he considered it, his fingers definitely couldn''t fit in, no matter how much he wanted them to. Stepping further back, the idea of a thin item being able to slip through and allow him to leverage strength against the door came to mind.

    Turning around and averting his gaze from the left side of the bridge, he went into the technician''s space to find a mess of wires and scrap metal. Quickly locating and picking up a thin but sturdy piece of metal, he brought it back to the door and inserted it in the gap, pushing away from the door in a see-saw motion until he was able to pry a few inches.

    The screech that echoed through the bridge was just loud enough to make him flinch. Making use of the inches of progress he had made, he began to work his fingers into the door and pulled as hard as he could.

    With a few repetitions of pulling, he had enough space to squeeze through, stretching his body as thin as possible until he made it to the other side. Thankfully, the hallway was a bit more spacious than the cramped bridge.

    However, the passage quickly transitioned to open air as a door meant to connect to the rest of the modular ship met only with the outside air. The door not only allowed the atmosphere in, but also a trickling amount of water. He pondered how he would be able to retrieve the other ship modules, when another wet noise pierced the quiet hallway.

    Two doors down, he noticed a blur of smooth maroon slip into the room. It was the medical bay. There were no nurses stationed on the ship, but it carried enough medicine to stitch up and treat any ailment that could afflict the pioneers. Perhaps an animal was lured into the ship by all the medicinal compounds. It would certainly explain the wet slapping movement on the waterlogged deck.

    Crouching down to pick up the thin rod he used to open the door, he quietly shifted toward the unexpected visitor, ready to dispatch it if need be. Harrison listened for any movement as he went, anxiously rotating around the outside of the door to peek past it. Inside, he spotted O¡¯Hara lying still on a bed. He suspected her deceased as well, but a slow up and down of her chest indicated she was merely unconscious.

    Then, a large hunched figure crossed towards O¡¯Hara, holding something in its arms as it rushed towards the lying pioneer. The sudden movement spurred Harrison into motion. ¡°GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!¡±

    The creature stopped in place in surprise, allowing him time to shorten the distance and tackle it from behind, throwing his weight into it and sending both of them crashing into the wet floor. Attempting to pin the larger creature, he grabbed two ¡­ arms? Talons? And pushed them to the ground, yet it was to no success¡ªthe animal throwing its back into the engineer and flinging him off towards the unconscious human.

    He hit the side of the bed with a thunk. The loose bed frame rattled with the impact and threw O¡¯Hara to the ground with a sickening crunch. Harrison was already in a bad state when he woke up, but hitting his back against the metal frame did no favors for his failing body. He felt warm blood trickle down his arm, acknowledging that the gash on his left arm had opened up again.

    He looked up at the towering creature, revealing itself to be bipedal as it stood up to its full height. It was still going after her.

    ¡°YOU LEAVE HER ALONE!¡±

    He struggled to his feet, lurching to face the massive monster. The ground, slickened and lined with water, prevented his feet from gaining any purchase. The room flipped upside down as his legs slipped from under him¡ªhis mind blanking as blackness took his vision once more, a hollow thud being the last thing he heard.

 Chapter 2

    The cold touched every part of Harrison¡¯s body, from the seeping frigid grasp on his back to the shivering sensation that the breeze brought upon his limbs. He attempted to feel out where he was, but stopped when his arm felt nothing in front of himself.

    Fuck.

    He was dead, wasn¡¯t he?

    His task as a pioneer went to shit within the blink of an eye. What was that electric anomaly anyways? Where did it even come from? Maybe if they spent some time in orbit studying the planet before they went into the atmosphere, they could have detected it.

    The thought frustrated the engineer. Of course there were going to be unexpected phenomena; why would the anomalies stop at just one space warp? There was probably an infinite amount of bullshit space magic defying physics on the planet anyways¡ªand maybe not just electric and teleportation types either.

    Wracking his mind for details of the interaction, he was left in confusion. The voltaic oddity was practically invisible until the ship was within its grasp. No obvious visual indicators were present until it was too late¡ªthe encompassing spark and the subsequent shock being all that gave away the anomaly.

    He thought about the situation a little while longer and recalled the odd readings. What about the battery charging? The influx of electric energy must have played a part in the process. Similarly, the lights had flickered out on the bridge, too. He reached the conclusion that such physics-breaking oddities affected both electronics and electricity as a whole.

    Maybe with some knowledge he could find ways to detect such abnormalities. The thought had his mind scrambling for ways he could jumble together batteries and lights to detect the voltaic threats¡ªuntil the day¡¯s pain caught up with him.

    The back of his head began pounding with each heartbeat¡ªmuch worse than any hangover he ever had waking up after a long night at an orbital station bar.

    Maybe he wasn¡¯t actually dead after all. The oh so <i>¡®relaxing¡¯</i> sensation of having his skull split in two certainly reminded him of his human body¡¯s senses. The feeling of a dump truck hitting his cranium jogged his memory of the several falls and injuries he took before becoming a victim of gravity.

    Another wave of memories struck the engineer¡ªthe events that had led to his black out coming forward. A broken door. Wet footsteps. O¡¯hara and that ¡­ creature.

    Wait.

    His eyes shot open, scanning the room as his breathing hitched. A damp cave lay before him, with the same orange sun peeking beneath the lip of a jagged entrance. He couldn''t tell if it was sunset or sunrise, but the sun hung at an acute angle from the perceived horizon.

    And horizon there was. Shifting himself to sit up and acquire a better view, Harrison noted an open sea from beyond the mouth of the cave.

    After taking in the view, he pushed himself up and to a standing position. His left forearm felt a spongy material fall off to the ground as he rose. Looking down, he observed a yellow, porous leaf shaped similar to a palm frond¡ªits texture far softer in contrast. The leaf had a stain on one side, darkened with the blood from his laceration¡ªconsequently, it had taken on a flaky texture from the dried ichor.

    Shifting his gaze to the rest of the cave, he noted it stood as a small cavity, with only the sandy entrance present. A pile of the same leaves were bundled up in the corner, along with another, thicker leaf that was wrapped around something.

    Approaching it to inspect the bundled leaf, he unraveled it to find what appeared to be moist, lightly glowing fruits. To the right sat an odd bowl shaped stone formation that held a gracious amount of water.

    None of this was natural. These items were placed here. For him? Was O¡¯hara or Tracy able to drag him out here?

    He looked around for any evidence of his crewmates, yet found nothing of importance. He focused his attention on an irregular pattern amongst the sand that fed into the cave.

    Footprints.

    Large web-toed footprints laid amongst the sand going in and out of the grotto.

    He backed into the corner with the supplies and glared at the entrance, waiting for any movement. He readied himself to act at a moment''s notice for ¡­ <i>something</i>. The engineer was unable to determine if he was prepared to fight or run if the creature did make its appearance.

    After a few minutes of waiting, nothing came into view. He let his guard down momentarily to kneel down and study the supplies some more while keeping an eye on the entrance. Unsure of the purpose of the yellow leaf, he moved his attention to the thick makeshift package that held the glowing berries. They were slick with moisture and gave in at the slightest pressure, leaking a glowing juice.

    The bowl of water, on the other hand, he tested with a light touch of his tongue. It was freshwater. He had expected a harsh salty attack, but was pleasantly surprised by clean, if not a little warm, drinking water. Only when he had taken his first sip, did he realize how dry his mouth had become¡ªnot to mention his growing thirst and gnawing hunger.

    Quickly, he lapped up the water supply, but held off on the berries until he was sure they wouldn''t kill him. Using the recollected knowledge of his training, he began the process of testing the food.

    The berries had not looked, felt, or smelled rotten. Check. The morsels of food did not cause any irritation when applied to the tender flesh of his inner biceps. Check. Upon applying a bit of the juice to his lips, tongue, and gums, the berries failed to cause any issues. Check. Next, he was to eat a small portion and wait a few hours. However, upon taking a bite from the moist flesh, he was overcome by the sweet and tangy taste. It held the same texture and juiciness of an orange, except for being more sweet than citrus. His stomach subconsciously pushed him to take another bite.

    The plan of waiting was promptly trashed, and he took more chunks of the meal provided for him. After digging into a few berries, he had finally sated enough of his hunger to stop himself. It would be proper to save some for later.

    Harrison¡¯s next steps for survival would be to finally set foot outside, and to take stock of the surroundings. He pocketed the bundle of yellow leaves and what was left of the food, making his way to the cave entrance. The sun had moved further into the sky¡ªindicating the time to be morning¡ªand had illuminated the short beach in front of the cave mouth.

    The sand held a rusted iron-orange to accompany the color of the sun, while contrasting beautifully with the white waves settling on the shoreline. Despite the events prior, he felt a strange calmness from the sight.

    It wouldn¡¯t look too out of place for a vacation spot on Old Earth. Although he never got to see it for himself, there had been plenty of photos online of its beauty centuries ago. At least he finally had his own chance to see it for himself.

    However, karma had other plans.

    A tingling in the back of his head incentivized him to spin around and stare out into the treeline atop the rock face that hugged the beach. Amongst the gray and brown bark, he spotted movement of an orange mass. Memory of a similar orange blur hit him like a brick and forced his flight reflex. He spotted a crevice besides the cave small enough for him to fit and darted into it. Calming his nerves, he listened in for any noise to indicate movement.

    Soon enough, the sound of shifting sand had reached his ears. Large footfalls crashed near the cave entrance¡ªimmediately replaced by a smacking noise on the hard rock floors of the cave. The creature within made no noise besides the consistent steps that sounded all too familiar to anxious pacing.

    Tense minutes passed by while Harrison crouched within the crevice, waiting for the creature to move on from the cave. He couldn¡¯t tell how long it had actually been when the monster¡¯s footsteps finally left the cave to return to the orange sands, but his lungs rejoiced when he finally allowed new air to flow into them.

    His excitement was cut short. Soon, footfalls atop sifting sands crept closer to his side of the rocks, opposite the way the animal had entered. The engineer had to crouch even lower in the crevice to make himself inconspicuous amongst the rock face.

    Stifling any movement, he waited with bated breath. Time slowed to a halt as the creature¡¯s long gait brought it in front of him. He hardly had any time to notice many features before it moved beyond the crevice. Yet, clear as day, it was the same monster he fought on the bridge¡ªdown to the same finned arms and immense height. Adrenaline shot into his system and tensed his muscles.

    Breathing became harder. Hands clenched. Legs readied to spring into action.

    The agonizing waiting hurt his crouched posture, yet as soon as the footfalls were well out of hearing range, he bolted the opposite direction. He spotted an opening up to the tree down the beach line and booked it. Looking back, he observed nothing from the orange beast. Satisfied, he continues his sprint.

    /- - - - -

    Harrison¡¯s legs burned, his eyes long since dried from the wind brushing along his face. Subconsciousness had been the leading role for his decision making as he rushed between trees within the alien forest.

    Small cuts littered his legs below khaki cargo shorts¡ªthe bulky material that once felt grating on his thighs now melting into his senses like warm butter. Along with his plain black t-shirt, his clothing became but an extension of his skin; it clung with sweat and wear from the hours he spent meandering through the forest.

    He had neglected his screaming body, favoring distance over comfort to get as far away as he could. Every once in a while, in a blur, the orange sun and red leaves would catch the corner of his eye. His pattern seeking brain would send him into a flurry, convincing him it was the same monster he ran from, chasing him, *<i>hunting</i>* him. Other times, he would stumble upon a light puddle, reminding him of the slick waterlogged med-bay. Each thought dragged more of the crash to his mind and threatened to break him down, yet he pushed back against the thoughts and further let his subconscious take his body into autopilot.

    Sporadic bursts of sprinting mixed with jogging left him even more lost than he had already been. Red canopies littered the sky above him while red and purple shrubs and pink grass painted the forest floor. Giant roots constantly teased his feet into tripping over himself, the large tree trunks swallowing his vision with their girth. The engineer had heard a few squawks¡ªand even more chitters from presumably small creatures just out of sight¡ªmocking his delirious state. The frenzied dashes and difficult terrain only added to his feverish state, vibrant colors swimming in and out of his vision.

    Beyond the fauna, there was much he couldn¡¯t explain. A few minutes into his mad dash, he had stumbled across a small valley only a few hundred meters across. At the center lay an odd rock formation¡ªseveral long digits resembling fingers growing from the ground to encompass a spherical zone. No grass laid claim to the area, only cracked earth painting the ground. Scorched rocks sat around the formation, along with the charred remains of a large quadruped animal he couldn¡¯t identify.

    After a few moments, he observed a bird-like creature, with wings that mimicked the red canopy, perch upon a stone finger. It had noticed the burnt carcass and swiftly glided to the crisp body. No later than when it landed, a geyser of flame and smoke spewed from underneath the bird and left it with the same fate as the other charred corpse.

    Startled, he rapidly backpedaled away from the valley and continued his mindless trek. Over the course of the hysterical hike, he would spot similar oddities that varied in type; Nearly invisible gravity anomalies, sizzling green chemical spots, or large fields of a shimmering haze¡ªHe didn¡¯t want to push any sort of boundaries by getting close to any of them, but one had almost caught him unaware, if it wasn¡¯t just barely outlined by a glossy texture.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Struck by the realization of his imminent crash course with the anomaly, he skidded to a halt and took a few steps back. Yet, his curiosity got the better of him¡ªpicking up a gray stick on the ground and taking a gracious few steps back¡ªhe lobbed the stick into the shimmering abnormality. A spiral of wind took hold of the flying stick and sent it high above the red leaves.

    That interaction swept him out of his daze and took him to conscious thought. The near-death experience brought to light how ridiculous it was that he had let himself sink away from his mind to run to autopilot. He sat down on a thick root to gather himself once more.

    He felt hopeless in the alien environment. The engineer had lost the ship, his machines, and his crewmates¡ªand as similar as the planet looked, it clearly didn¡¯t care about the laws of physics, and threatened his survival because of it.

    Survival.

    The draining experience of survival urged him to return to his monotonous life. He wouldn¡¯t even mind the long work hours or curbed human interaction. Anything to return to his normal routine. All the exhaustion of running and the drain on his psyche to ignore the fact that everything was gone simmered away at his core.

    A few quiet moments passed before he was forced to suppress a creeping laugh. It was ridiculous. Harrison had no room to complain anymore. He had already made the journey. He had already crashed the ship. He had already gotten himself lost. There was no going back from this¡ªNo gray domes, no factories, no humans¡ªthis was his final chance: thrive or die.

    The engineer had years of training and although not equipped, he did have knowledge. Standing up, he went to check his person for all that he could use. Starting with his pockets, there were only a few items of note; he picked out his reading glasses, leftover yellow leaves, a package of glowberries, and his data pad. The glasses remained undamaged while within their case, whereas the data pad had suffered a crack along its glass screen.

    Turning the pad on, he found it to be in working condition if not a bit dirty. The battery, thankfully, had kept its near full charge. Next, he swiped through the various apps and information at his disposal for anything that could help. The engineer hardly used his colony datapad as the trip from the warp to the planet had only taken a day or so. This would only be the third or fourth time he would ever actually use the provided datapad outside of messaging.

    The app dedicated to the colony efforts had kept the survey information from the ship before the crash as well as some information about the ship equipment¡ªshould the pioneers need it. He decided now would be the best time to make use of the program.

    Tapping on the ship section, a large blueprint-esque design appeared that modeled the ship and its modular outfit. The outline showed much damage to the ship: some modules being ruined beyond repair. It also detailed the inner workings of the ship; functions, cargo, and crew¡­ *<i>Crew</i>*. He shifted his attention to the crew report, tapping on each individual name that appeared.

    \- Trey Renolds ¡­ Inactive. 12.05 km

    \- Margaret O¡¯Hara ¡­ Inactive. 12.05 km

    \- Tracy Tzu ¡­ Active. 137.88 km

    \- Harrison Walker ¡­ Active 0.00 km

    The information hit him like a brick. He knew of Trey¡¯s ¡­ demise, but he had held hope to find O¡¯hara within the bridge. He remembered the sickening crack that came from her fall onto the ground, yet he prayed he would not be left alone so soon into the job. A sickening grasp took hold of his chest as the situation at hand grew exponentially worse. Thoughts of giving up and resigning his fate to the world were swimming amongst his racing mind.

    However, the green ¡®active¡¯ mark next to Tracy¡¯s name took him out of the imminent panic attack. With the last moments of the ship becoming a blur, he had almost forgotten about the demure technician. The next kick of shock was the distance¡ªshe was still within the cargo hold at the time of the crash¡ªyet, he was dozens of kilometers away. She must have survived the crash, and was residing within the cargo bay since.

    Some part of him had wanted to start the trek to meet up with the technician, but he knew that he wouldn¡¯t make it as he was. With a sudden stroke of motivation to continue, Harrison resigned himself to work on survival first and prepare for the long haul eventually.

    /- - - - -

    The engineer had walked a good kilometer or two before being able to find a running stream of water. Sure, he spotted water already, but it was more akin to a stillwater pond than anything. The stream before him, however, was exactly what he was looking for. The water flowed swiftly and clearly within its rocky slide¡ªbest of all, there were small footprints lining up to the rushing water. Animals drinking from a source usually indicates safety, yet he would still need to boil the water just in case.

    On the topic of boiling, the engineer needed to find a source of fire. He played with the idea of finding the fire geyser anomaly again, but shut his own idea down soon after. He knew it would get him killed. On the other hand, he wondered if he would be able to use the reading glasses for setting some tinder alight. Nevertheless, the fire was worthless if he had nothing to boil the water in¡ªpot, cup, or otherwise.

    The sun had now hung directly above the sea of red leaves which gave him time to start a fire and prepare materials for the pot. Barely audible, the engineer¡¯s voice drew out, ¡°No time like the present, I guess.¡±

    /- - - - -

    It took a few hours, but his efforts had paid out dividends.

    The first task on the to-do list he completed was to go through with making fire. There were plenty of trees, but unfortunately, he had no way of gathering wood for the fire. Thus, he decided to start small with some sticks and kindling made from dead leaves.

    His foraging for sticks had been bountiful in an unexpected way: he had located a large bush that stretched vertically for three meters or so. Upon its slender branches, held the same glowberries he enjoyed that morning. They came in pairs similar to cherries and were bunched further to the top of the plant¡ªindicating it to be a common meal for the wildlife. Dropping everything on hand, he made his way to the bush. His somewhat tall stature allowed him to reach most fruits, except for those few golden treats just out of reach. Soon¡ªwith the help of some more thick leaves¡ªhe was able to package a few meals that wouldn¡¯t squash in his cargo pants.

    Eventually, he made it back to a small clearing near the river¡ªdevoid of much shrubbery or trees, it held but a few rocks and a rotten tree trunk. Next, began his fire making efforts in earnest. He held the glasses above the dead leaves at an angle to catch the sun¡¯s rays perfectly. It took many long minutes of holding the spectacles still¡ªand he had almost given up¡ªuntil the dry leaves began to smoke. Quickly, he laid the leaves within a small stick housing and stoked the fire with his breath. In no time, the fire caught the sticks and provided him with a hit of dopamine for his success as a smile wrapped around his cheeks. Although small in size, the fire was a monumental step for his survival.

    After the fire was lit, he realized he would have to get larger pieces of wood to breathe life to the fire soon. He had picked up a rock from the clearing and set out for the treeline. The rock itself was blunt and would have to work as a bludgeoning tool against the wood. He moved towards one of the brown-bark trees and located a low branch.

    With both hands, he raised the rock to force pressure upon the tree''s joint. The work left his hands sore and in rough shape from the effort. He wanted to stop multiple times, yet worked through the tough grind to see his job through. Soon, after many muscle straining minutes, he was able to pull the branch from its socket, gored wood fibers hanging loosely from the injury. His ears were still ringing from the heavy <i>thunks</i> that reverberated from the tree by the time he moved on.

    Next, he made his way towards one of the gray-bark trees and repeated the process. Initially, he was worried the rounded rock wasn¡¯t enough for the gray-bark, but was pleasantly surprised soon after¡ªthe branch had all but collapsed in on itself at the joint after enough pressure was applied.

    After inspecting the odd occurrence, an unexpected detail revealed itself¡ªthe fleshy wood beneath the gray bark was in fact a deep blue instead of the expected gray. The engineer wanted to pursue some more experiments upon the moist blue wood, but the familiar smell of smoke reminded him of his purpose.

    Bringing the two branches back to his clearing, he cut the branches into one-fourth meter chunks to feed to the fire, with a much sharper rock this time. The brown-bark burnt just fine after throwing the log into the fire, not needing much encouragement to catch fire.

    During the excess chopping, he noticed the gray-bark had another unique property. The bark itself was cut and skinned easily off the wood itself. Even more interesting, was that the wood had a similar elasticity and texture on the inside as rubber, explaining the difficulty in separating it with a dull object. Beyond the gray-bark wood¡¯s interior, he also found it burned poorly¡ªmerely charring the outer extremities of the gray bark.

    After discovering the rubber wood¡¯s secrets, the engineer¡¯s interest in the unique flora of the planet peaked. Turning to other plants within the vicinity, his first specimen was the red moss that grew along the riverbank.

    With the sharp end of the rock, he cut into the moss at a sharp angle. The incision gathered some moss on top of the rock with a quiet <i>squelch</i>. That was odd. The moss let out a yellow ooze in the wake of the rock as he pulled the sample back. Curiously, he foolishly poked a finger into the liquid¡ªand it stuck like syrup to his finger.

    The engineer went to wash it off in the water, but found the ooze refused to part with his finger. He resigned to using one of the spongy leaves to rub it off to some success, despite some of it sticking stubbornly to his hand. The annoyance didn''t matter¡ªthis was a wonderful discovery¡ªthe moss not only produced a sticky fluid, but ignored any interaction with water. It would be perfectly suited to help make any container to hold liquid. He had no way to store it yet, but kept its properties in mind as he went to test some more flora.

    Within an hour or so Harrison had tested most of the unique plants within the vicinity. He found very little of importance. There were some red plants that grew strong strands of fibers¡ªperfect for weaving or makeshift rope¡ªwhile there were other plants that simply provided sticks and tinder for fire.

    Cataloging his findings within the data pad, he figured it was time to complete his goal of making a sturdy pot. With the elastic blue wood and moss glue, he shouldn¡¯t have any trouble forming a container for water

    /- - - - -

    The pot itself only needed a half an hour to construct. The only proper shape he could forge from the gray bark was a cone. He wrapped the bark in on itself with the bottom coming to a point that was painted with the moss glue. It held water alright¡ªeven atop the fire¡ªenough to allow a few liters of water to boil at a time.

    He had fire, food, and now water. His next big goal would be shelter, which left him a bit stumped. He was unsure of his ability to build any sort of camp by himself. He considered finding a cave, but the lack of mountains left little availability besides the seaside grotto he awoke to.

    On the topic of finding a shelter, he realized that he needed to stick close to the stream for water¡ªsomething he really wouldn''t have had to worry about if he resided within the barracks module, considering its atmospheric water generator. The large machine would be perfect for taking in and filtering the humid maritime air of the local area and eliminating any chance of dehydration.

    Opening his datapad, the engineer went to find any information he could about the module.

    The app indicated the prefabricated building was fully intact¡ªfunctional water generator, no wall punctures, and a stable energy supply¡ªadditionally, the best news being that it was only a little less than eight kilometers away. The datapad had no map, nor did it provide the correct direction to the barracks unit. Quickly, he thought of how to discern the proper direction¡ªwalk a couple dozen meters, check the distance, change direction, repeat. Within a few attempts, the engineer narrowed down the direction to be downstream.

    With the sun still soaring above him, he figured if he started moving soon, he could make it to the barracks well before sundown.

    However, before making the trip he knew he had to prepare a few select items. First, he would have to prepare something to hold not only the makeshift bucket, but also the materials and possible tools he would use. Beyond tools, his cargo shorts were beginning to fill up with gathered resources and food. Consequently, he needed more space for just about everything on his person. Therefore, a harness and backpack was an order.

    While coalescing materials for the harness, Harrison realized the necessity of a knife for cutting leaves and fibers alike. Of all the rocks found near the water, he had gathered a few stones sturdy enough to undergo the sharpening process as well as maintaining a proper knife shape.

    Short, thin, and sharp were necessities for his primitive knives. Along with a brown wood handle, he applied a little bit of the moss glue combined with glowberries to the gripped end¡ªwhich allowed it to harden into a tough resin that would prevent splinters¡ªand molded it to his hand properly. The rest of his few knives were given the same treatment which gave a slight golden glossy effect to the handles that he appreciated in the afternoon sun.

    The knives let him work with the red colored plants to a larger degree of freedom as he could strip and chop as much as he needed to produce the harness. Using a few large leaves¡ªthat were the red world¡¯s equivalent of banana leaves¡ªand plenty of plant fibers, he created the backpack portion of the equipment.

    Next, the storage trunk was tied up to a makeshift belt and chest harness combo that securely wrapped around his waist and torso respectively. During the process of adding a holster on the back for the water bucket, he had decided to add a few loops to securely hold other tools he may need in the future¡ªtwo tools being necessary at the present; A sharp hatchet for wood chopping purposes and a sturdy spear for defense and possibly hunting. The former being necessary to procure wood for the latter.

    The hatchet was easy enough to construct: a thick sharpened rock squeezed between the split end of a bulky stick that was wrapped in fibers and moss glue to keep the rock in its place during use. The handle, of course, was covered in his now signature glowberry resin.

    The ergonomic grip proved to be a boon for the hatchet¡¯s purpose as it assisted in limiting the blow to his hands as he chopped the slightly crooked branch. The tree limb was soon cut down to size and sharpened to his liking, however the crookedness of the prototype weapon would hamper its thrust capability. A few test uses of the spear, however, confirmed it was sturdy enough for its purpose and allowed for plenty of energy transfer upon use.

    Satisfied with his new additions, he slid them into the looped holsters on the harness, behind his arms. Along with his new tools, he had applied a makeshift lid for the bucket with a leaf, as well as stored plenty of moss glue within can-shaped containers made of the fleshy rubber wood.

    His possessions were packed and his direction was prepared. Sliding into the harness and completing his survivor look, he felt more ready than ever for whatever the red planet threw at him.

 Chapter 3

    Only an hour had passed, yet Harrison managed to forge four kilometers closer. The red forest shuddered with brisk wind flowing between the leaves, allowing the orange sun to flicker in and out of his vision. Continuing the trek, he encountered increasingly larger amounts of water which hampered his movement, forcing him to step into ankle-deep ponds often.

    A constant *<i>squelching*</i> sounded throughout his ears with each and every step, the wet socks within his brown hiking shoes annoying him to no end. If it weren''t for the disgusting texture that pressed upon his feet, he would have zoned out the noise altogether, but it persisted, torturing his every movement.

    Yet, besides the major annoyance, he found the hike to be rather uneventful. He spotted sparse movement of animals¡ªsome bird-like creatures amongst the trees, along with small green amphibians that littered the ponds¡ªand noted little anomalies along the trek.

    Much of the journey was repetitive red forest, with the occasional difference in color due to a unique plant or from an increasingly uncommon animal¡ªalthough they would hardly show themselves in his presence, Harrison was always able to spot the slight movement of a tree-borne critter or the near constant reverberating call from the waterborne creatures. Now? There was nothing. No movement, no new colors, and more eerily, *<i>there was no noise*</i>. His subconscious knew it wasn''t right.

    <i>*Survival basics, lesson forty-eight: If the forest is abnormally silent, ambush predators are likely nearby.*</i>

    He crouched lower and readied his spear in front of him, concealing the sharpened point in the brush. The light wind rustled through the trees, sending a cold shiver down his spine, and clouding his senses with ambient noise. Gazing slowly through the dense foliage, he kept his eyes peeled for anything: movement, color, or a sign of activity. Everything was important.

    When nothing made an appearance, he slowly duckwalked forward, the wet <i>squelching</i> of his shoes giving away any pretense of stealth.

    <i>*Step. Squelch. Step. Squelch.*</i>

    This was getting ridiculous.

    Nope. That¡¯s it. He was done.

    The waterlogged socks had broken the camel''s back. He was comfortable with trudging forward in wet socks if it meant his destination appeared all the sooner, but this? This was the last straw for his frustrations. Despite the tense air, the imminent danger, and every ounce of his survival training screaming for him to be careful, his wearied mind let the defeated feeling simmer. Boil.

    Overflow.

    He knew the socks weren''t all that dragged at his mind¡ªit was far greater than just wet footwear¡ªand it wasn''t only the small things, like his hatchet scratching his back while he walked, or even the itchy cuts on his legs.

    The discontent was rooted in the planet itself.

    Absolutely *<i>nothing* </i>went right for this brainless colony mission. It was foolish to think it would be some grand adventure. Like moths to a flame, he was led into the doomed project with no actual hope for success.

    Was his crew really meant to be successful? Only four people sent to a completely unsurveyed planet, and they were still expected to set up a *<i>fully functional*</i> colony ready for *<i>thousands* </i>of humans to move into? He hardly knew much about the other pioneers, but he certainly lacked the degree of professionalism and grit it would take to wrangle the bullshit red world into submission.

    The technician certainly knew what she was doing. His thoughts were grabbed once more by the surviving crewmate, the company of another would change everything. Especially hers.

    As quickly as it came, the distracting thought was ripped out again by the infuriating feeling of moist socks wrapped around the engineer''s feet.

    Even if they hadn¡¯t crashed, how could they deal with the broken physics of the anomalies¡ªor better yet, the prowling monster that lurked by the beach?

    Harrison let his frustrations seep into his bones as it boiled over.

    He knew this feeling well; it was the same as ever. Little frustrations and uncertainties lined up¡ªone after the other¡ªand pressing on his mind until he lashed out. And lashing out had certainly happened plenty of times before. The pot was easy to boil over.

    A tough week overseeing a factory ended with his girlfriend leaving him for someone else. That Friday left his fists bloody against the kitchen wall as tears dripped off his cheeks. Another time, he found himself left alone in a hotel room after his so-called ¡®friends¡¯ took him for an ATM on a group outing to Mars. Better yet, two days into that ¡®vacation,¡¯ his boss called to inform him that he was expected to attend an emergency shift.

    He ripped the fucking wires out of those machines an hour into his duty, leaving to begin a job search that very night.

    Now, here the engineer was, one whole galaxy away trying to comfort the worst situation with wooden *<i>arts and crafts*</i>. The higher ups knew the mission would fail, and left him here as a guinea pig, didn¡¯t they? He wanted so badly to yell at the sky¡ªto tell the whole red planet to fuck itself, or just have a smidge of control in the situation¡ªyet, he was left with nothing but the trickling wind, even its cool touch failing to affect the heat building within his chest.

    Was it anger issues? Probably. The waves of frustration, guilt, trepidation, anxiety, and searing anger flowed right through him as he glared daggers into the ground. Every single sensation only furthered the feelings, his equipment feeling like sandpaper riding his skin, down to the heavy spear listing the backpack slightly to the right.

    A familiar warm liquid slid beyond his eyelids, leaving a salty trail in its wake.

    He hated feeling helpless.

    Setting his rear to the ground, he allowed the brown soil to dirty his khaki shorts. The moist wetland gave little comfort as he rested his wet eyes against his arms.

    God, why can''t he keep his mind straight?

    The engineer''s childhood dream of becoming a farmer rested on his mind, lending itself to his pity party. Wallowing in the brief stint of emotional trauma, he shriveled into a despondent state.

    Harrison¡¯s senses closed in on himself, and kept him in the dark.

    Only the smallest sensations broke through the cocoon he formed, long minutes passed by as the engineer let the sun lay its warmth on his skin. Short noises infiltrated his mind through the long silence. A light trickling of water. The rustling of leaves. A short *<i>thud</i>*.

    His eyes snapped open as he swiveled his head, the silence faltering once more.

    <i>*Whump</i>*.

    His mind sluggishly pulled away from the storm brewing behind his vision, the previous determination to survive shattering. His legs shook as he got himself up to a crouching position. One hand on a tree to steady himself as he considered his options.

    The engineer knew he should sprint away, but the unnaturally heavy *<i>clacks</i>* grabbed his attention. He¡¯d heard the same racket before¡ªsheets of synthetic material falling against one another on fault factory floors.

    A third crash allowed him to locate the direction of the commotion. Despite his puffy eyes, his simmering glare had little trouble finding the wide river clearing ahead, yet his tears blurred any details.

    ¡°Fuck ¡­ UGH.¡± He was familiar with grime on his face, but the dirt that dug into his vision as he tried to wipe away the tears reinvigorated his stacking frustrations.

    Just more fuel to the fire.

    He pulled his feet forward with heavy stomps, his peripheral vision glimpsing subdued movement from the other side of the water. Emotions stretched thin between fear and rage, never settling on one or the other. His eyes glared daggers towards the disturbance, his already lit fuse burning further.

    Harrison observed the bulky creature unfurl its body to its full zenith; its height was enough for its entire head to be obscured by the canopy of red leaves hanging between them.

    He knew this beast, and instead of the fear he should have expected, it riled up his pissed state of mind further.

    Unreasonably tall, a filthy orange hue, an unsettling gait, and grotesquely thick fins.

    That fucker was why he was stranded so far from his equipment. Why his legs burned from running so damn far. And worst of all, why his feet were weighed down by heavy waterlogged shoes.

    It reached behind itself, pulling until sturdy slices of the brutish figure fell to the ground with a familiar *<i>chink*</i>. The monster¡¯s size dwindled from its original hulking width with each additional piece. Another *<i>CLINK* </i>resounded as another piece fell to the floor from its thick legs.

    As he watched, his curiosity overrode the burning ire toiling within.

    Armor¡ªor perhaps clothes of some sort. It didn¡¯t have fins or orange skin at all, just layers of some material¡­ Those heavy thuds certainly indicated it at least provided some protection. This could be his chance to strike against a vulnerable target.

    But ¡­ wouldn''t the armor imply some sort of crafting ability?

    A million thoughts ran through the engineer''s mind as he observed the being strip before him. Wouldn¡¯t crafting indicate sapience? Did this creature have a civilization beyond the solitary nature he observed?

    His questioning thoughts were promptly poisoned by its large form moving again. Deep down, he knew it was proper to observe the beast first, but his personal vendetta against it forced a few simmering steps forward.

    Soon enough, only a lithe form remained before him. It finally peeled off the bottom leathery garments, and left only a white color from the bottom of its jaw to inner thighs. Thick maroon skin covered the rest of the body, accents of navy blue contrasting the extremities. Many light scars marred the smooth skin. Perhaps this beast had survived quite a few deadly encounters?

    Brutish toned muscles lay underneath the battle-scarred skin ...

    Limbs¡­

    Was he seeing things? One, two, three? fou¡ª Oh.

    Two sets of arms jutted from the torso¡ªboth in line with their own set of pectoral muscles¡ªyet one pair of appendages lay underneath the other. The members themselves were just as toned as the rest of the body, blue hands ending with sharp claws.

    Its pectorals were complimented by robust and brutally scarred abdominal muscles just below. Exceptionally thick hips flowed into a long, meaty tail in conjunction with two long legs. Webbed feet came to sharp taloned points, mirroring the footprints he saw at the cave.

    Those nails were ridiculously sharp, and he hated it. This thing ticked too many ¡®apex predator¡¯ boxes to be a fair fight for nature; tall, full of muscles, sharp talons, 4 fucking arms ¡­ the list went on.

    It was bullshit.

    Returning to the rest of the towering creat- ¡­ person? Person. A long snout sprouted from a smooth, shaped head. It lent itself to a narrow, aerodynamic shape. Two triangular wing-like fins on the side of the head acted in place of traditional human ears. Along with the ear accompaniment, two mohawk-shaped frills flowed from the top of the head to the back of the neck; navy blue in color, a lighter tinge between the spikes.

    Between the long snout and the external head organs, were the eyes. He was caught by their glowing bright orange color; it betrayed the apex predator look of the alien, full of hope and wonder¡ªsurrounded by rather human looking eyelashes¡ªits gaze peered back into his own.

    Wait.

    His legs stalled beneath him.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Eyes ¡­ were looking right back at him.

    The primitive creature¡¯s face flushed a deep blue¡ªa defense mechanism to ward off would-be attackers?

    Its predatory gaze lingered on him, moving two arms to cover itself in a defensive motion. One set was held high, covering its torso, the other set was a bit lower¡­

    He readied his spear in retaliation to the clear sign of aggression, his pent up vengeance against the being spurring him forward. Freeing himself from this *<i>primitive</i>* would secure his safety going forward¡ªfirst contact be damned.

    But ¡­ that didn¡¯t feel right, did it? His spear faltered slightly.

    No, Harrison reminded himself once more that the beast before him was the cause of his suffering. It was why he was stranded alone without anything but the clothes on his back. He took a few more cautious steps forward and brought his spear up once more.

    The maroon biped lifted its other pair of arms up in front of itself, palms wide open.

    This was it. He braced himself to dodge the attack.

    *¡°<i>What are you doing, Star-sent?¡±*</i>

    An unmistakably female voice resounded within his brain. Angelic, yet deep, its reverberation bounced amongst his thoughts. It was nice. He could imagine himself falling asleep to its soothing baritone.

    No.

    That was NOT his internal dialogue. He stumbled a bit trying to concentrate on the threat in front of him. The monster¡¯s mouth did not move the entire time, yet it raised an eyebrow at him.

    It must be a psychic attack against him¡ªdamn this world¡¯s demented wildlife.

    *¡°<i>I-I am no threat to you.¡±*</i>

    What?

    The creature held out an arm towards him. He prepared for the expected attack, but found no excess movement from the alien.

    He clung steadfast to the anger that pushed him forward. He needed to dispatch the threat immediately or find a way to escape. His strength shuddered as he locked his legs to keep standing.

    ¡°No, NO.¡±

    His eyelids slowly blinked and threatened to close fully. Where anger once stood, exhaustion took its place. The day''s efforts piled up behind his final outburst, with fatigue draining his muscles of their strength.

    He looked at the person across from him and let his knees buckle, his last bits of energy sucked out of him.

    On a direct course for the red grass, he was met with smooth skin as he let his eyes fall shut.

    /= = = = =

    The mainland was just as despicable as Father Monchanuo had warned; dangerous magics cursed the land, wretched beasts prowled the caves, and monsters roamed the open seas.

    Shar¡¯khee pressed on, despite the horrors. It was her duty as colony manager to shepherd her people to the new land¨CEven if her people were scattered amongst the land or at the bottom of the sea.

    The gruesome images were pressed away. She was <i>*the* </i>leader of the expedition group. She would have to find who she could and begin anew; failure would only bring years of curses from the Gods.

    She was rudely awakened on the beach by flying creatures attempting to pick the flesh exposed between the gaps in her alloyed armor. She could not remember what brought her to the sands, except the goal instilled upon her by the Grand Priestess. She got up, wiped sand from the cracks within her equipment, and got ready to work on gathering information, as well as hopefully finding her band of colonists.

    The solo work was nothing she could not handle; she had spent countless nights within hostile islands or defending territory entirely by herself.

    Except, each time there were still other Malkrin to converse with¡ªeven if they belonged to a rival kingdom. After a single night on the mainland, she grew anxious with no sign of other Malkrin making their appearance.

    Many nights continued with much the same activities; wake up, collect survival necessities, look for the others, and repeat. Many times she had close encounters with the dangerous magics¡ªsome fire spit had even managed to char a bit of her tail.

    Another day passed by, another morning spent gathering more shinefruits and continuing her search for the others. It grew upon her more and more, the anxiousness eating away at her mind. About her failure. About how little of her trial she had even started. Every time her eyes awoke from her minimal sleep, she could feel the pressure and shame stiffen around her until she started moving for the day.

    But that had changed one day.

    Without any warning, a deafening *<i>crack* </i>rang out above her, the sky had splintered into multiple star-sent fragments. Flames engulfed some of the rocks as they plummeted towards her.

    She stood there in awe at the celestial sight unfolding right before her.

    It was too grandiose for the islander to take in, yet¡ªas she observed the beautiful catastrophe¡ªone piece came uncomfortably close. It only grew in size as the seconds ticked by.

    <i>*She needed to move.*</i>

    Eyes widened as her legs held onto the ground.

    Then, as fast as the sky rock appeared before her, it had already flown right past and pummeled the wetland forest behind her.

    She was held frozen in shock and wonder. It was most likely one of the otherworldly dangers of the mainland, yet something within her urged her to pursue whatever lay at the impact. A subtly feminine voice seemed to whisper into her frills about its importance¡­ None of the words truly settled in her mind for her to truly understand what she was hearing, but that hardly mattered. Shar¡¯khee had a new goal.

    She picked herself up from the daze and made her way to the star-sent rock.

    She came upon the crash site, exhausted by what few minutes were spent in motion¡ªsmoke from the object acting like a beacon. Many trees bent in wake of the rock, while others were left smoldering in sparse fires. The scene reminded her of vicious war zones that left burnt and broken villages in their path.

    She stood up to her full height to gather what information she could. The rock was made of a dark, ominous metal, and it appeared to be forged into a head that ended in a snout-like shape. The alloyed skull held a long slit where the eyes should be, just above the pointed front. The metallic beast showed no signs of life, its nose firmly embedded within the murky waters.

    She cautiously moved towards the back of the severed head, forced to swim within the swampy waters.

    Her mind flailed in every direction; caution, anxiety, fascination, and apprehension pulled her to and away from the skyborne rock. She was torn between leaving and continuing her search for the rest of the colony¡ªthe whispers be damned¡ªor continuing on, perhaps uncovering the gift from the stars.

    Yet, a curious opening amongst the charred metal caught her eye.

    Partially submerged within the swamp¡¯s murky liquid, an unnaturally rectangular hole presented itself to the Malkrin. Despite the miniscule size, the entrance felt purposeful.

    <i>This was her Gods¡¯ chosen path.</i>

    Hunching down underneath the opening, she was met with an ominous hallway. Few doors lined the walls, each likely leading to unknown rooms, each just as small as the entrance. It faintly reminded her of the servant¡¯s hall with its simplistic design; monotone walls, little lighting, and minimal decorations.

    It was not entirely alien.

    The skyrock was almost entirely made up of gray metal she had never laid eyes upon. This much metal must be a sick joke by the Gods at her attempted colony¡ªnever had her home island owned such an amount¡ªand now, there was enough of the material here to change how the entirety of the Golden City was run; farming, hunting, and war equipment could be forged in droves.

    She pushed forward despite the unsettling darkness. Nothing jumped out at her as she walked along the cold floor towards the closest door; It had no handle and she could not spot any obvious hinge it swung from. She attempted to push it to no effect. Perhaps it was no door afterall, but simply a decoration piece?

    The wall piece was left behind in hopes of exploring the rest of the metal head. While she was occupied, more water had seeped into the hallway. She understood the time restraint, quickly moving towards the rest of the star-borne gift.

    A hacking cough alerted the Malkrin to the presence of another. A raspy noise echoed from down the corridor, drawing her attention.

    Shar¡¯khee moved in to gather information on the outburst, making no effort to cover the noise her footsteps produced. An opening in the wall¡ª*<i>so they were doors afterall*</i>¡ªextended into a small room with two beds and a few clear cabinets.

    A small creature¡ªabout the size of a Malkrin male¡ªlaid on a bed.

    <i>*A Star-sent?*</i>

    A cough from the creature made an open wound her focus; It leaked an unsettling amount of maroon liquid.

    Was this a trial of the Gods? Could this be what the voice had urged her here for? She must have been tasked with saving this one

    Briskly, she made her way to the creature, grabbing bandages with her upper arms on the way.

    A loud growl from behind made another¡¯s presence known. Yet before she could turn around, A heavy object crashed into her back, sending the Malkrin to the ground. Grasping arms attempted to hold down a pair of her limbs, but she had already made a move to throw it off her back with force.

    Whatever pelted into her was hindering her trial, she *<i>had</i>* to get it out of the way. She shook off the brief blow and pushed herself off the ground.

    Shar¡¯khee stood up to her full height to gauge the threat. Another Star-sent sat between her and the original, a dazed but determined gaze lay upon its scowl. A similar growl was let out to warn her to stay back when the new one had slipped and fell unconscious. She flinched at the painful display of clumsiness in front of her.

    The next few hours were a blur after the short interaction. She checked on the Star-sent beings and attempted to assist as she could, but the first one had passed to the stars during the brief investigation.

    That left only *<i>one</i>* she could save.

    She checked the rest of the crashed debris for anything else of note, finding the corpse of one more. She had taken too much time; the Gods punished her initial apprehension of the gift by taking the Star-sent away from her.

    She would *<i>not</i>* fail the last one.

    Carefully picking up the last living creature, she spent much time walking it to a safe cave. It was a heavy being despite its small male-like stature.

    When safely in the cave, she left some bare essentials for it: shine fruit, water, and some bandages if need be.

    The sun outside made its warmth scarce. She let herself observe the unconscious being a few paces away. It was shaped nearly identical to a Malkrin, with a few notable differences; it had only two arms, odd thin garments, no talons or frills of any sort, and a rounded head that held a fuzzy mess of brown fur. She caught herself leaning over, trying to touch the head fur, but stopped her childish urge. Maybe she could ask it later¡­

    Sleep soon caught up with her tiring day; she had dreams of large, metallic, moving creatures fighting her kingdom''s enemies that night. Then something about ¡°wrist raw-kets,¡± whatever that was.

    Waking up¡ªand promptly forgetting last night''s dream¡ªshe got ready to leave the cave. Whilst preparing for her morning routine, she tripped and fell over a bumpy rock on the ground. Looking back, she realized her mistake and quickly asked the Gods for forgiveness for harming their star-sent gift.

    She finalized her preparations and set out for the morning, taking in a final look at the curious creature. It appeared troubled in its sleep, groaning and turning in place. She wanted to do something about it, but quickly gave up the idea in favor of completing her duty.

    An uneventful gathering of food passed, and soon she returned to the cave to greet the hopefully awake creature. The Malkrin found nothing.

    The Star-sent was gone. This was it. She failed the Gods.

    She paced around the cave, letting her mind run with guilt. If they did not curse her, the Grand Priestess certainly would.

    Dread flowed through her snout and down to her tail. The Star-sent was supposed to be a gift from the Gods. She knew the alien was meant to have some purpose for her colony¡ªit was the Gods¡¯ will, after all. She had to find it and make sure the being was safe.

    She turned to look within the dim cave once more, some small part of her hoping it was still near. Yet, the larger part of her knew it was to be a long day nonetheless.

    /- - - - -

    Still nothing.

    She could not even locate the missing people of the colony. What made her think that she could find the missing alien?

    Failure after failure, it was almost too much to bear. Not only was she failing the Grand Priestess herself, but now she could not even receive a gift properly. It would have been better if she had stayed with the creature until it awoke from its unconscious state. Now, here she was, trudging through the muddy marshes thousands of paces away from where she started.

    There was absolutely no way to know where the Star-sent could be. She left the cave and instantly came upon a lead, footprints were dispersed amongst the sand, but they soon gave way to much harder forest floor, leaving her in the dark once more. She followed the vague direction the clues indicated, and would occasionally pick up a unique scent¡ªwhere following it would appear fruitful for a while¡ªuntil it would abruptly stop and leave her with nothing.

    Excitement would plaster on her face when the now familiar scent ran through her olfactory¡ªa salty, musky, and oddly moist smell that stained her nose¡ªthen frustration would seep in minutes later, when her nose found nothing but the common scents of the forest.

    Hours passed. The same cycle of picking up the scent, and then abruptly losing it continued. The walking had dirtied her armor and undercoat considerably, causing it to drag on her psyche. It grated between her webbed feet, and caused havoc beneath the leather garments, yet she persevered forwards in hopes of rectifying her mistakes.

    Just when the uncomfortable feeling of filthy dirt permeating her skin was becoming too great to handle, she stumbled upon a flowing river. Shar¡¯khee was never one to take a gift for granted, so she used the break to part from the heavy armor, in addition to the necessary wash.

    With a heavy *<i>Thunk</i>*, she sat on the grassy riverside and took off the fitted helmet. The guilt of failing her trial permeated through her as she attempted to enjoy the moment of rest¡ªstress making it difficult for her mind to find peace.

    She practiced many arts under her Order mentors: Combat, religious specialties, or even crafts-centered masteries had been drilled into her from a young age. She had worked hard for her high status as a paladin, yet¡ªdespite her lack of expertise in leading peoples¡ªshe was chosen personally for the task of forging a new province on the mainland. It puzzled her greatly as to why, but she took the task and set her mind on seeing it completed, no matter the difficulty.

    More pieces of the orange armor were peeled off her aching limbs, her leather undergarment taking little effort to slip out of. The colony efforts went horribly, Lord or the Mountain, she did not even know how their ship had failed them. She only remembered leaving the island with twenty-three others and suddenly appearing on the orange sands. It felt almost purposeless to look for the rest of the colonists; they most certainly laid with The Leviathan at the bottom of the sea.

    Her days here only became more sluggish as she searched and searched for nothing to change. The excitement of a star-sent gift elated her¡ªit was a sign that her perseverance was being blessed by the Gods¡ªyet, she squandered the opportunity as well.

    The Star-sent being was probably long gone by now, far out of her reach. It really was her one opportunity, and now she questioned whether she should even continue searching for the¡­

    Slow movement was caught in her peripherals.

    ¡­rogue¡­

    She shifted her neck to the side.

    ¡­Star-sent¡­

    Her eyes scanned the forest for the briefest of moments. Then, with a short lowering of her head, she focused on the short creature in front of her.

    She glared into the eyes of the creature. A cool breeze made her all too aware of her vulnerable and *<i>bare</i>* form. She noticed her own snout grow a deep blue in the presence of the other.

    Her arms reacted quickly, and moved to cover what she could¡ªonly then was the being¡¯s weapon made present, the crooked wooden spear shaking in between them, the weapon appearing to falter slightly in wake of her presence.

    She held out her arms in front of herself in a peaceful offering to the aggravated individual. *<i>¡°What are you doing, Star-sent?¡±</i>*

    It flinched, stumbling on its tensed legs. Eyes closed and shaking its head, the alien was clearly fighting something within its mind.

    *<i>¡°I-I am no threat to you¡±</i>*

    As the being tensed itself once more, the Malkrin felt the turmoil within its brain, struggling to vocalize its disdain for her words. She stared into its eyes¡ªthey were irritated and sore, lids threatening to fall at any moment. The final puzzle piece revealed itself.

    Exhaustion.

    Clear and simple.

    She sympathized with the completely alien being.

    It stumbled and fell to its knees, but she was there to catch the limp body. The little bit of empathy she held for it went a long way to reinforce her loyalty to the deity-given quest. She would not let the alien leave her sights, and the Gods would reward her efforts.

    This time, failure would not be the outcome.

 Chapter 4

    Harrison stirred from his much needed rest. Whatever dream he had was quickly forgotten as his foggy mind began to clear. He stretched his arms out wide, relieving the built-up kinks in his muscles. A light breeze cooled his exposed skin; no blanket was present, nor was there any soft surface to comfort his sore back. He tried to recall what brought him to this uncomfortable bed.

    He was observing the giant on the riverside. The beast terrified him¡ªto the point of frantically running nearly ten kilometers to leave its presence, even. Yet, in his clouded state of mind, he thought it would be wise to approach it head-on. More absurdly, the apex predator just stood there despite his threats. Only now did he realize that the arm movements were defensive in nature, if that. It really didn''t fit the towering beast¡¯s fearsome form; the pose was almost like an embarrassed schoolgirl caught changing.

    But that was the extent of his knowledge. No matter how hard he jogged his memory, he could not remember what happened after the female voice spoke to him. There was certainly some missing information or events. When did he fall asleep?

    He finally opened his eyes, prompted to gauge the present situation. A strikingly beautiful sky met his observations, the starry night making its debut above. His endless struggle was grabbed by the sight¡ªif even just for a moment. Small branches laden with leaves peppered the view, a blue moon peering through the canopy. Wisps of wandering clouds slipped through the atmosphere, both illuminated by the soft moonlight, and hiding the twinkle of the void beyond. Rustling accented the peaceful moment.

    The entire forest around him danced in a light breeze. He would have been further entranced by the scene¡ªsomewhat reminding him of his younger years spent staring at the night sky¡ªif it wasn¡¯t for the deafening snores of the towering beast nearby, its torso pressed against a gray tree trunk. Four arms folded across each other along its chest, while its chin was pressed down onto the top set of limbs. Its long legs had criss-crossed. A powerful tail lay between its powerful thighs.

    It appeared to be asleep for now, so he glanced around the small forest clearing, looking for his equipment. A few moments of fruitless searching began to spark some anxiety. It wasn¡¯t until he spared another look at the beast did he locate the backpack leaning on the same trunk it was using for comfort¡ªthe moonlight barely illuminating a yellow resin handle.

    He would have to make his way around the sleeping giant to retrieve his inventory. The engineer resigned to getting on his feet first before forming his plan of action.

    After waiting for a reaction from the alien in response to his movement, he fought with his instincts to flee as he crawled slowly towards the beast. When there was no sign of wakefulness, he decided to give a wide berth to the giant and move forward. He would have to continue slowly and as quietly as possible.

    Each step was agonizing; his thighs burned, and his back ached from holding the hunched position. Yet, he made it all the closer with each step. He could practically reach out and grab his bag, but it might make enough noise to awaken the giant in the process. He was close enough to hear the soft breathing from the giant at this point, the close proximity raising his heart rate and forcing out shaky breaths.

    His hands quaked. It certainly wasn¡¯t cold enough out here to cause tremors.

    Just a few more steps and he could leave, maybe enjoy a long shower in the barracks, or perhaps get a full night''s rest¡ªone that won''t leave his back aching in the morning. Four anxiety-inducing steps later, he reached for the harness and gripped the chest straps with his hands, giving a cautious glance to the creature beside it. Thankfully, it simply cycled another breath, clearly in the deep clutches of sleep.

    Slowly, he pulled up the straps and checked to see if all the equipment was still present. A passing glance confirmed the hatchet, knives, and bucket, yet no spear. He shot his head around in the moonlight, hoping to spot it to no avail. There was no time to worry about a piece of wood, he had to leave before he was caught again. He pulled the backpack up and away, just for something to fall right off the tree behind it.

    Oh. There¡¯s the spear.

    With a loud <i>*thwack*</i>, the weapon fell right onto the slumbering alien.

    ¡­Fuck.

    A hiss of anger came from the giant. The beast slowly stood up to its towering form, reminiscent of the first time he saw the being.

    *<i>Fuck.*</i>

    Two glowing orange eyes locked onto his own, the gaze burning hot enough to bore holes through his skull. His feet were locked in place; none of his muscles would respond to his internal pleading. He needed to escape it, but the beast¡¯s ire held tight onto his freeze instincts.

    <i>*¡°Star-sent?¡±* </i>

    The same feminine voice trickled into his head. It only took a moment of staring at each other for its fiery pupils to temper their heat. The change in demeanor was all it took for him to regain control of his frozen legs.

    He took the opportunity to scramble away as fast as he could. There was no time to check direction as his legs feverishly carried him through the red forest. The wet ground made each step difficult, tall brush hindered his line of sight. A thick canopy darkened the path before him¡ªonly allowing short breaks of moonlight between the trees.

    Loud footsteps pounded the ground behind him, along with a shrill screech that sounded eerily similar to a mountain lion.

    It was following him.

    He nearly let out a scream of his own; an emerging fear of becoming imminent prey shaking him down to his core. His breathing grew more ragged as the minutes of sprinting blurred together. Not now. No matter how desperate and shitty the situation, his adrenaline assured him he did *not* want to be eaten. He wanted to stop to give his protesting legs a break, but footfalls still broke through the ambient forest noise around him. The giant¡¯s clamorous breathing faded as he continued his mad dash

    He was tempted to turn his head to observe more, but kept moving forward. The footfalls nearly slowed to a halt, and allowed his curiosity the edge over his survival instincts. For only a moment, he allowed himself a glance back towards the giant. Bright orange eyes stared right back into his, distress nested within its ire. The giant was stumbling¡ªbarely making any headway, yet persevering towards its goal as if to throw itself at him in an attempt to find its next meal. Its large chest heaved under the stress all the while.

    <i>*¡°-must not leave, I cannot lose anymore-¡±*</i>

    He severed the eye contact to further focus on increasing the distance between them. The words she¡­ yeah, it was a very feminine voice, it must be a she. The words she used were almost ¡­ desperate. It was startling how much emotion was packed into that brief glance.

    Emotion.

    Was he empathizing with an actual night terror chasing him down? No. He just didn¡¯t know what she wanted. There were more than enough opportunities for the giant to kill him¡ªnamely the times when he was unconscious on the bridge as well as near the river. What other reasons could there be to want to keep him alive? Was she perhaps going to bring him to her cave or something of the sort? He didn¡¯t know, wasn¡¯t sure if he wanted to.

    The adrenaline was quickly wearing off, slowing his stride. He looked behind him once every few moments to make sure she had been left behind.

    He heard nothing of her footfalls, nor anything else besides the ambient croaking of amphibians. Now would be the best time to collect himself under the cover of safety. Slowing to a walk, he grabbed his data pad and pulled up his destination: the barracks. Given his luck so far, he would¡¯ve expected to find himself sprinting in the opposite direction. Nevertheless, it was closer than he expected; only a little over two kilometers remained. It wouldn¡¯t be a long walk and there certainly was no time like the present to get such a job done.

    He continued his trek at a walking pace for a few minutes, before the moist wetland gave way to a larger, more open field. A gentle slope upwards led across the meadow to its hilltop mansion. At least it was a mansion compared to what he had been subject to so far.

    Atop the little bump in the field, the barracks lay upright in all its blocky glory. There was a short trail of debris behind it, the scorched earth implying a burning entry. The gray cube itself was no taller than a two story home, and was as wide as a four lane street each way. No unique features stood out amongst the dull monotone building, but that was the goal of its engineering; most of its equipment and aspects were intended to fold into the walls. Hell, from what he learned in training, even the furniture neatly tucked away. It was a pretty damn sleek building, despite its lack of exterior decoration.

    He noted the way stars shined off its metallic sheen while he made his way to the hilltop. All the while, he quickly checked the treeline for any hints of orange armor. When no giants made their presence known, he stopped to look up. For the second time that night, he appreciated the lack of light pollution. The night sky was alight with dazzling colors of the universe. Before now, only small moments on space stations allowed him to appreciate the majesty of the greater cosmos. In fact, he was lucky to be able to see much of the sky at all. Others stationed on mining moons were lucky to see the surface, let alone the night sky.

    The treeline formed a wide circle around his destination. Most of it contained the same flexible rubbery trees and the sturdy brown alternative.

    The far side, in contrast, had opened to the black gaping maw of the ocean. The bright moonlight reflected off smooth waves which crashed into a stout rock wall not too dissimilar to the one he woke up on earlier in the day.

    He had quite the view of the vast forest, especially in the pale blue light afforded to him by the night. One sight did take his ire, however. Opposite the side of the beach, far, far away, a short mountain scraped the sky with its sharp points. A bright inferno lay between the highest peaks. Its light stretched far across the mountains, marking its territory for all to see. Grand smoke stacks grew from the mountain peak, reaching far into the night sky.

    The fire was held far above any forest, but the thought of a natural disaster horrified him. He would be helpless in a wildfire¡ªor any natural disaster really. Were the flames caused by the atmospheric entry of a module or an anomaly? He spent a few more moments enjoying the grim beauty of the scene before him; tonight showed him there was a lot of beauty to be found on this planet¡ªdespite its otherworldly horrors.

    He took the time to make that last couple meters to the entrance of the gray brick he had been searching for. An enlarged airlock that was intended to connect to the other modules took center stage. He pressed his hand to the panel beside the door to unlock it.

    Nothing moved.

    He waited a bit longer.

    Finally, a sharp hiss emanated from the door¡ªthe atmosphere injected to the red planet. He entered the airlock, noticing there was nothing but the red emergency lighting. That never meant anything good. Despite a tinge of worry, he looked forward, waiting for the airlock to finish its cycle.

    The second door opened to a wide lobby. A large section to the left held a kitchen; a short island for eating and cooking rested between him and the other meal-preparing equipment that lined the wall. Lights that looked better suited for industrial use sprouted in lines from the ceiling. Just like the airlock, the area was flush with an unsettling crimson glow that lined the floor and the walls.

    There were also sections along the further wall that folded out into tables and benches. Some lay in a partly open state, most likely due to the rough landing. Metal debris and scattered kitchen equipment cluttered the ground. He resigned himself to clean it later, the engineer felt it much more important to figure out proper lighting first.

    A short stairwell as well as an industrial elevator to its side laid in front of him; he had no idea why such equipment would be necessary, considering the barracks¡¯ function. Either way, both led upstairs, which was home to the personal quarters, living room, a small medical room, and a large bathing section.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The stairs hugged a wall to the right. Every module held an industrial storage area pre-packed with equipment and resources. This one was no exception, along the same wall was a large sliding door that reached up to the ceiling. Besides food and clothing, he wasn¡¯t really sure what the room held in terms of cargo. Once more, the task became an addition to the to-do list.

    For now, he decided to take his harness off and make his way to a large interface near the kitchen island. Hopefully, there was something he could do about the lighting. This type of monitor was found nearly everywhere on every module; it held controls, diagnostics, and other information about its building. The screen flickered upon his arrival, briefly flashing the logo of its operating system.

    <i>*Micron computing*.</i> Now there¡¯s a familiar name. They were known for the invention of quantum computing and its proliferation across the United Planets, though dabbled in many other ventures¡ªeven if it was through sister-companies or other.

    Micron was also pretty big in the AI game, if he recalled. Maybe the computing system of the barracks had its own? The colony managers never mentioned many details of their equipment, only the basics. The leaders of the project expected all pioneers to be exceptionally well-versed in their craft; perhaps the technician would be able to share her knowledge of the technology here¡­ When he made the hundred kilometer trek that is. He let out a heavy sigh he must have been holding in for a while.

    The interface finally showed up after a few moments of booting up. He swiped through the diagnostics first. Most equipment was working optimally if not a little bumped up by the crash. Power cells were not charging, the kitchen¡¯s wiring wasn¡¯t connected, and the solar panels had taken a beating during the fall.

    He started off the to-do list by deploying the energy production features. A short hiss and a heavy *<i>klunk*</i> indicated the unfolding of the solar panels and the rising of the wind turbines. A long whine of running motors somewhere in the ceiling followed suit. Halfway through the deployment, a shriek of metal scratching the walls made him wince.

    Yeah, the solar cells might have taken some damage. Great.

    The panel showed that about half of the panels were successfully deployed and all of the turbines on the roof were erected. Satisfied for now, he dove into the controls, diverting excess power to lighting. With a flick of a nearby switch, the kitchen lights illuminated the area, allowing much more visibility than the red hue that was produced before.

    A curious perusal of the settings, and he found his suspicions confirmed; an option for an AI companion was nestled deep within the settings.

    It had a few options for its voice, personality, and what icon the user wanted to represent its presence. Younger him would have chosen a female partner type AI, but he felt the need for another archetype.

    [Good evening sir,] a posh English voice resounded from the speakers within the kitchen.

    The engineer smiled from ear to ear. ¡°Hello Sebas, what functions of the barracks module can you access?¡±

    [I have access to all electronics within the module. This includes entertainment, lighting, sensors, generators, doors, direction systems, and charging stations.]

    ¡°Direction systems?¡± Harrison queried, leaving a hand combed within his hair.

    [Direction systems implemented in each module assist with navigation and mapping between stations. Information is sent wirelessly between modules.]

    ¡°Open the interactive map.¡± He whipped his attention to the monitor.

    A black map appeared, small blue icons popping up in sequence representing each module. Each lay at varying intervals, scattered amongst the sea of unknown black. Small circles of color surrounded each icon on the 2D map in a limited radius

    ¡°Is there a legend?¡± A small section appeared in the monitor¡¯s corner at his request, containing symbols followed by their descriptions.

    The colors looked to represent the many natural biomes of the land. The barracks lay amongst grasslands and a body of water, the bridge laid within swamplands alongside the agricultural center. Other modules landed within the red forest, and as he suspected, another had landed atop the far mountain. The mountain module and one other had no color around them at all, apparently too damaged to make use of sensors. The cargo bay rested in a body of water only a hundred meters or so away from the beach. The more gripping issue for that one specifically was its vast distance away from the rest.

    He could figure out what each icon meant and what module it represented, but he was at a loss figuring out what a cruise ship icon conveyed. It was the only symbol without a proper entry in the legend. Curious, he tapped on it to find out any information that system may provide.

    External photos and information instantly filled the screen.

    No. That wasn¡¯t possible. It couldn¡¯t be.

    It was supposed to arrive five years later.

    The *<i>High Spirits* </i>laid amongst the same planet he did; its decrepit form lay upon jagged rocks, red flora climbing the outer hull. Debris was scattered along a wide gash in the rocky terrain behind it. Cargo and furniture spilled out the side of a large cut in the port side; it appeared to have melted through the hull.

    His head felt like it was going to implode, the pressure threatening to crush his skull. He hadn¡¯t taken enough time to think about the future beyond imminent survival and escape. Upon seeing the deaths of the other crewmates, he figured that he would just have to survive until the colony ship arrived.

    They would certainly know what to do. They were the *<i>real</i>* professionals.

    What was he supposed to do when his rescue had already failed?

    ¡°Sebas, what data can you get from the <i>High Spirits</i>? Why the hell is it here?¡± he choked out, his voice quivering as it betrayed his poorly held up confidence. The information appeared on the screen along with the AI assistant¡¯s voice.

    [Significant hull breach¡ªpresumably from a crash landing¡ªalong with radiation leakage from a hole within the reactor. Energy is stable, 573 cryo pods are operational, cargo bay is intact, and the captain is missing from her station. The data gathered from its signal appears to be corrupted, sir. It is unknown if it can be trusted.]

    Harrison clenched his fist, forcing his jaw to loosen as the pressure grinded his teeth. He shut his eyes¡ªhis tone hopeful, yet defeated. ¡°What happened to the rest of the cryo pods?¡±

    He waited in anticipation, worry seeping in. In the few moments of waiting, his mind began dragging up the myriad of horrible ways the people were lost.

    [Unknown, sir.]

    He sat in silence, pouring over the information some more while he calmed his breathing. He couldn¡¯t keep his focus on it. He was just doing anything to not remind himself of his permanent residence on the red, god forsaken planet.

    Again, the filthy mixture of stress, hopelessness, and frustration welled behind his head. Just more and more kept being added to this situation. Hundred of trillions of light ears away from Sol, left on this planet alone.

    ¡°FUCK.¡± Anguish poured out along his yell.

    He had to stop himself from punching the monitor in front of him, his better judgment prevailing over the spilling emotions. He let out a shuddered breath between clenched teeth, allowing his frustrations to leak away from the boiling pot.

    What was he to do now? No one was going to save him. No colony needed his expertise. He had no end goal. Nothing to work for

    [Is everything alright sir?] a soft, yet reassuringly grounded voice asked.

    No. Nothing is alright. He let out a chuckle, but it wouldn¡¯t stop. In a few moments, he was full-on laughing. The engineer had a hard time catching his breath.

    It was absurd. Everything was. He couldn¡¯t believe he let himself falter again¡ªtwice in the same day, even. It was pitiful to hear himself crumble at each blow.

    ¡°Everything is just peachy, Sebas, thank you for asking.¡± He wiped the last bits of morbid humor off his face. All the stress, turmoil, and events piled onto his sanity. Why would everything have to be alright? Life was about facing adversity. It was about overcoming each and every curveball thrown at you.

    He was a greater man than one who was just waiting for the colonists to arrive. In fact, he was now unshackled. The world was his oyster. He was a miserable man for thinking the arrival of others would somehow let him escape this hell. No way would he let some primitive planet control him, and make him beg for the help of others.

    Everything he could ever want was on this planet. The ships brought all the machines, the planet offered all the materials, and he had all the knowledge. Hell, he could even have his own farm and live out the frontier fantasy he held so close to his heart since he was a child.

    This was it, the adventure of a lifetime. No more monotonous work hours to drain his soul. No more shitty friends. No more would he be tied to any company.

    He would have to take this step by step; not everything was within reach just yet, but it was all possible. All he had to do was keep himself accountable and do his best to wipe away any of the nagging horror trying to bring him right back down. There was a long line of progression to complete his goal of self-sufficiency. First task on the to-do list? Take stock of the barracks.

    It was very late, but he had already slept some hours prior. So, with his restful state in combination with his newfound goal, he was motivated to begin immediately.

    He began with the storage section. He walked up to the industrial door, tapping a pad to open it. One flick of the lightswitch, and the area was illuminated¡ªlarge cubed crates lined the walls, stacked four high. They were stored in a formation that allowed a clear path between differing sections of storage. Some areas were dedicated to foodstuffs, others assigned to clothing, and the rest were marked for rooming or bathing.

    He made his way to a crate within the food section, and with the help of a small step-ladder, he brought it to the floor. For its meter-long size, it sure didn¡¯t weigh a lot¡ªat least not as much as he was expecting. After a moment of fiddling with the panel atop it, he found the crate was unlocked.

    Inside, there were insulating packets placed around the sides and in between the foodstuffs. He figured that the box itself would be a fine insulator¡ªthe packets being rather inefficient as they took up a large amount of space. Besides that, he found some hardy vegetables and a few packets of raw meat. Maybe he would be able to make a stew tonight.

    An hour or so had passed as he checked a few crates and gathered all the resources he could. Clothing, bedding, cleaning supplies. The list went on. He made his way up the short staircase to the second floor, resources in tow.

    The upper floor was just as monotone and dreary as the outside of the barracks, except for the light orange paint amongst the walls creating a wire-like design. It added something of a motif to the gray background. At least the interior had a concrete design rather than just cool metal.

    The living area sat to his right, meant for recreation and entertainment. It sat as a loft overseeing the staircase and part of the kitchen. A red cross indicated the medical room behind. A sizable television sat as the centerpiece along the far wall atop of a storage drawer. An orange couch sat opposite it, a table curiously missing between them. Upon further inspection, an outline on the floor indicated another folding table situation. Placing his hands within two gaps, he was able to pull up a coffee table with little effort¡ªextra storage revealed during the process. With his curiosity piqued, he opened the metal sliding door and found an old gaming system along with a few physical disc cases.

    When did he last play a video game? When did he even have access to a game console? He remembered getting one for Christmas when he was ten; his parents had a well-paying jobs and could afford to spend just a little bit extra. He appreciated it all the more and played it whenever he had the chance.

    That was until he was put into the engineering school¡ªshipped away for a year at a time¡ªwhere he had no access to it, and certainly no time for it in between studying and classes. His job was no better. He never really bothered with a console after that, as he had to move every few months.

    He wanted to sit down and power it up for a bit. He did have free reign over his choices, but no. He should set himself up first, maybe later he could try the console when he had finished.

    The other side of the second floor held a short hallway with two doors¡ªone leading to a communal bathroom, the other holding the sleeping arrangements.

    Entering the bedroom, he was greeted with eight bunks, four along each wall, with lockers in the center between each pair acting like makeshift partitions. Dressers sat between the ends of the beds.

    Each piece of furniture was either bolted down to the floor, or appeared to be able to fold into the walls¡ªmuch like the rest of the barracks. Blank white mattresses rested on the beds, some electronics on the side controlled a heating or cooling function within. He never had the opportunity to stay at a nicer apartment with heated bedding, so this would be his chance to enjoy some of the luxuries.

    He quickly laid out his items for bedding and chose the bed to his right, closest to the door. He folded up the top bunk to give himself more space to access his bed. It only took a few minutes, but he tidied things up and stored his items for later use.

    He took the time to inspect the bathroom on the floor. It was rather nicely decorated in contrast to the rest of the barracks. Well, *<i>everything* </i>was nicely decorated in comparison. The caustic stench of industrial cleaning solvent pierced his nose as he stepped inside. It was probably hosed down before being sent along with the other modules. It had tiled floors and walls¡ªblue in color, but a gradient of white was added as the tiles reached for the ceiling.

    Several large bathroom stalls stood on the left wall, a line of six sinks lay on the right, and an entrance to the showers was found at the far end. He entered the secondary room picking out the shape of a large bath somewhere nestled in the corner. Controls suggested the ability to adjust temperature and ¡­ no way. Jet controls. The bowl was a hot tub. It made him respect the colony project managers a bit more. Someone there certainly looked out for their pioneers.

    There were a few shower stations further along the wall, and a drying station for post-shower use. He gazed into the mirror on his right, the eyes of a nearly unrecognizable figure staring back at him.

    It wasn¡¯t like he grew a beard yet, but he was covered in dirt and stray forest debris. His hair looked more like a bird¡¯s nest than the tamed mane he was used to. Even worse, he could see pit stains that bled through his black shirt in the sterile light.

    He really needed a shower.

    After settling in a few more items in the bunkroom, he made his way to address the new issue. Starting the tap, he found the water cold. Waiting a few more minutes changed nothing. Still cold.

    ¡°Sebas, is the water heater online?¡±

    [No, sir, it is offline until energy can be recuperated fully tomorrow.]

    ¡°Damn.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t say the shower was relaxing¡ªhis pale, shivering skin exemplifying why¡ªbut it felt nice to be clean. It certainly did no favors for the large scab formed upon his left arm. He donned a new pair of clothes that were the same as his previous set: cargo shorts and another black t-shirt.

    He was going to see what he could do with the food at hand, but an alarm drew his conscious thought to the nearby monitor.

    [Unknown bipedal lifeform at south entrance.]

    A camera view of the airlock appeared, showing the orange-armored beast looking around curiously. A tinge of fear spiked at his chest, but was soon replaced by stalwart confidence. He didn¡¯t want to be afraid anymore. He wanted to be confident in his future.

    He furrowed his brow, managing the nervousness at the size of the alien. ¡°Sebas, lock and secure the door please, let no wildlife in.¡±

 Chapter 5

    The night passed with only one incident; Harrison rediscovered the effects of faulty kitchen wiring. He could have just eaten some of the vegetables raw, but none were very appealing. Grumbling about the lack of selection, he resigned himself to ¡°enjoy¡± the rest of his glowberries. It was hardly a feast, but it would suffice.

    He checked the front sensor before and after sleeping. The giant still remained¡ªexcept, in the morning, he found her cooking some fish over a bustling fire.

    He hadn¡¯t had meat cooked over a flame in years. The way the meat began to crisp around the edges and form a slightly charred exterior made his mouth water.

    It was possible to start his own fire and make his own meals¡ªif it weren¡¯t for the brute at the gate preventing access to the required resources. The impromptu prison guard incentivized him to take stock of what he had at his disposal. Opening a few more crates, his suspicions were confirmed. Much of the crates were filled with the gray nutrient paste; the same shit that he was forced to eat on long work nights. Only the best factories provided *<i>actual* </i>food. The paste would have been somewhat palatable, save for the odd chunks in it¡ªa texture he grew to abhor greatly. But, it didn¡¯t have any flavor, so at least it couldn''t taste bad per se.

    The thought of starting up the game console crossed his mind, but a deep pressure in his gut prevented any mindless procrastination. Sadly, there was work to be done, and no one but him was around to do it. The tasteless paste was enough of a motivator to set his sights on fixing the kitchen.

    He looked around the cooking area for any access to the circuits. His hands ran across the wall for any cracks or hints at an opening, the cold walls sapping the heat from his fingertips. A short bump differentiated itself from the rest of the surface. He found it.

    The panel was easy enough to pull out¡ªdespite him having to dig his fingernails in the small slit. Bits and pieces of support beam fell through the exposed cavity. A gaping hole lay before him; a mess of frayed and melted wiring spilled onto the ground. It took about five seconds for him to realize he was ill-equipped for the job; not only did he have no clue where to start, but he also lacked any tools whatsoever. Most of the necessary implements would either be back in the cargo bay or the factory workshop, neither of which being accessible with the scary giant waiting outside for him. Giving up and resting on the nearby bench, he let out a sigh.

    The kitchen was useless if he couldn¡¯t cook anything in it. Not even the refrigerator worked. It only served to make living on the red planet all the more difficult. He rested his elbows on his knees, and scratched at his hair for a moment. There wasn¡¯t exactly much to do while waiting for the primitive to leave.

    ¡°Sebas, what music do we have?¡±

    [There is no downloaded music on the barracks storage drive, sir.]

    Well that was stupid. They thought to bring along a gaming console, but no music? Were the project managers even human?

    Speaking of non-humans. ¡°Sebas, open the airlock camera.¡±

    [Of course, sir.]

    A feed opened up on his data pad. Just as he thought, she was still there. It appeared that she was building a small tent using rubberwood bark.

    Oh that¡¯s great. That¡¯s just what he wanted to see; the alien was camping outside the barracks now. It set up a large tilted roof made from the rubberwood bark. The covering leaned on two large sticks dug into the ground¡ªboth tied to the corners of the blue and gray shelter for stability. He wouldn¡¯t let it get under his skin, but the giant essentially digging in its heels worried him. It looked like he was gonna have to spend a few more days here.

    He left the kitchen area to find something else to do. Maybe organize his clothing in the meantime. He wanted to be productive. No, he *<i>needed*</i> to be productive, his whole life was spent going from one job to another. Relaxing in a survival situation felt ¡­ *<i>wrong*</i>.

    \= = = = =

    The fourth night had passed, and the star-sent was still holed up within the metal box. Once more, Shar¡¯khee was astounded by the amount of metal that was used to forge the large castle. It was a pitiful thing, despite the rare material used. The building was tall, yes, but its only defining features were odd towers and frail roofing on its upper surface. Even then, the details looked to be in shambles; some of the raking on top was not in place or shattered in pieces, debris laying on the grass below. If it were constructed of wood, she would imagine it to be a rotted or burnt husk when left in the same conditions.

    The door she waited in front of never moved, but she would hear noises inside. She could sometimes pick out the gruff voice of the star-sent, other times she would hear a more servile expression in dialogue, but never did she hear the actual words.

    Could there perhaps be more of them?

    The thought helped to brighten her mood, giving her the confidence to double down on her efforts, and make sure she was there when it left the metal box.

    She passed the time by idly weaving some stronger plant leaves into a bag for storage. It was about time she made something like it; she had no pockets in her armor nor any sack to assist with large items. As she made her way through the day completing small tasks, she caught sight of a small object above the castle. Most of the time, the rounded detail was covered by a sheath, nearly blending in with the rest of the wall that surrounded it. However, on occasion it would unfold to reveal a small ball shaped ¡­ *<i>thing</i>*. The round entity reminded her of an eye in the way it followed her as she went about her various tasks. Its reflective metal bulk surrounded the glass centerpiece, unsettling her with its emotionless gaze. Despite the eye¡¯s intrusion in her work, she opted to ignore it. She had much more important things to do than worry about an inanimate object.

    Her stomach growled, informing her it was time to catch lunch. It would not be hard to obtain another fish, but the pang of hunger had reminded her of the star-sent inside. Days had gone by since the alien was last outside. It must be hungry, and now was as good a time as any to get an extra serving of food for the star-sent.

    \- - - - -

    The sky had begun to morph into an orange hue, slipping away from the welcoming blue and warning of dwindling sunlight as she made her way back to the star-sent¡¯s castle. Cooking the day¡¯s hunt took little time, the meat taking on her favorite crispy texture. The fire popped as she let it slowly die out. The extra food was laid on top of a red leaf and placed before the entrance to the metal enclosure, proudly displaying the meal she provided. Crisp meat, shine fruits, and some herbs she managed to forage decorated the primitive plate, but it looked rather inviting, if she had to say. Usually, a meal so finely detailed like this would be hard to come by, only eaten during celebrations of a completed trial.

    As she stepped back to appreciate her work, the eye made its appearance once more. It stared her down for a moment before focusing on the food at her feet. She scrutinized the object once more. Its glassy pupil stood out to her as odd and certainly unnatural, but the most obvious sign of its uncanny existence was its lack of intent. No living being breathed, ate, or slept without intent behind its actions¡ªsuch knowledge was taught to every Malkrin at a young age. She could even recall the night she learned it.

    The elder priest loved to regale stories of their world¡¯s creation; the nights that the young pups were gathered to listen to the tales of scripture bringing out life in the older Malkrin. She remembered  with excitement as he spoke of the Gods'' war against the ancient titans. How their saviors cleansed the giant¡¯s reign of fire and brimstone, only for the collective cheering to be replaced by awe as they were told the significance of the tale. Stone bodies of the Titans became the land they walked, viscous ichor becoming the oceans they hunted in, and their hearts became the souls of the Malkrin, purified and given the chance to repent. It was fascinating how even the world beneath her feet was connected to her very soul.

    She and every other Malkrin were special, gifted by those same Gods that forgave the broken and fragmented essences that once wrought destruction. Each blessing given through a trial bestowed upon the faithful as an opportunity to show their repentance. Since those nights, such a long time ago, she prayed for a trial to be given to her, so that she might pay for their sins and be truly accepted by the Tridei.

    During those enrapturing tales, the pup leaned forward, struggling not to tip over as if being closer would reveal the answers to questions swirled through her thoughts. She was keen on achieving the hopeful expectations of her overseers¡ªexpectations that continued to shackle her to this day.

    She couldn¡¯t help but wonder what being the inheritors of such powerful souls meant for her kind. The older priest questioned the collective young minds if they ever thought about how they could speak to each other. Her mind went blank. She never really thought about why; it was something that just happened naturally. Was there really some deeper meaning?

    He answered the question once met with curious faces and no answers, speaking of their souls that held their hopes, thoughts, and emotions. The ancient titans used what he called ¡®intent¡¯ as a way for them to project their will upon the world around them. As a way to control and inflict pain. The Malkrin¡ªbeing the successors of the golems¡ªreceived a shattered yet purified form of intent meant for sharing their voice and emotions. To connect them to their people.

    The revelation left the group of young impressionable minds speechless. Knowing that her own voice was not just an ability handed down by the titans, but also another refined blessing from the Gods. More proof of their love.

    The room grew quiet. The elder fell solemn, his voice shrinking to but a whisper as he imparted upon them his final message.

    ¡°Be wary of the sky god¡¯s ire, young ones. Follow the path set forth by the Tridei, listen to the edicts, and one day, your trial will be given. Then, you may become truly faithful, and feel the bliss of their love.¡±

    Her hands brushed over the armor she was gifted when she finally *<i>was*</i> given that trial, the texture both worn yet pristine¡ªher careful maintenance showing through. Passed to her by Father Monchanuo himself, with the blessing of the High priestess, she received it with the instructions that set her on her journey.

    And later, her failure.

    The memories flowed in. The Sky Goddess cursed their boats with her herculean storms, scattering their souls amongst the ocean. It was a miracle that she made it to the mainland at all. The same could not be said for her people, may they rest forever more. Now, the monumental task of spreading the faith of Tridei settled at her feet ¡­ alone. She would not be dismayed so easily, despite the harrowing challenges that faced her. Her faith in the Tridei was strong.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    And such faith was rewarded. From the stars above, one was sent¡ªthe star-sent. It clicked in her brain. The¡­ *<i>Sky Goddess</i>*¡­ herself had given her another chance at redemption. The star-sent was not just an otherworldly being. It was <i>*the* </i>second trial. An assessment to make up for her failure, one that she would not squander.

    A second chance¡­

    One that now seemed impossible. Her head craned upwards, focusing on the gray castle¡¯s gate. Its impenetrable metal entrance guarded the alien behind it. The star-sent was so close, yet so far away. A palm pressed against the door, longing for any opportunity to prove herself. Would it ever show its face again? What would she do if she failed to protect this one too?

    The armor gifted to her was now bare witness to not one, but two failing trials.

    She felt wrong wearing the armor, considering its legendary history. None of her actions were worthy of its protection. What had she even accomplished? She¡¯d trained, fought a few turf wars in the Mountain Lord¡¯s name, and then was sent to begin anew on the mainland. God of the land! She couldn¡¯t even accomplish the last trial! It was humiliating. She found herself wishing that the world would simply go away, so she might ignore the indignity of failure.

    A sickening pressure made its way to her gills. The shame was too much to bear. She found herself waiting like a lost pup outside the castle of a star-sent, hoping patience could make up for her second failure. Maybe her faith would be rewarded then.

    With shuddering breaths, she allowed a single tear to flow down her cheek. The warrior curled into a ball underneath the makeshift bark roof. The shoddy panels would hardly protect her from any storms, but at least the tent would hide some of her shame.

    \= = = = =

    It would be an operation that tested his skills to their fullest. Stealth, speed, and precision, all working in tandem to overcome this challenge. Harrison crept up to the airlock and opened the door manually, a soft metallic<i> *creaaak</i>* crying from the sliding door as its worn, damaged frame scraped the mechanism.

    He winced, standing still as the door¡¯s shriek quieted down, hoping that it wasn¡¯t heard. Only a sliver of an opening was created, just enough for him to slip through.

    One more door to go.

    His heart pounded loud enough to drown out the light tapping of his steps. He was almost to his goal. Several days of eating stale, gray nutrient paste was a soul-draining experience. When he noticed the delicious offering of grilled meats and fresh fruit at the doorstep of the barracks, he had almost immediately jumped at the opportunity and bolted out the doors, his stomach forcing him to forget that the alien was the one who left it there.

    There were a million reasons why going out there would be the dumbest thing he could do: it could be a trap, she could be luring him into a false sense of security, he could be about to make a terrible mistake, but every thought lost against the watering in his mouth. As skeptical as he was, he just couldn¡¯t pinpoint what the alien wanted from him. Why was it offering him food? Was it an offering? A trick? A bribe?

    Did it even matter?

    He was torn by the decision of if he should give in and accept the food left by the giant outside. A steady breath bought him time to sort his thoughts.

    Basically, this giant brute had discovered his existence inside the ship, presumably brought him to the cave with some supplies, found him again a couple kilometers away after he had escaped, and then chased him down to the barracks where she offered him his current object of indecision. She had all the opportunities to hunt him if she wanted to before, so what was her motive?

    Now that he wasn¡¯t fighting for survival, he was able to think about it for more than a passing moment. It was obvious the giant didn¡¯t intend to kill him, but it left him questioning her other incentives.

    Almost every time their eyes met, he heard the phrase ¡®Star-sent.¡¯ So far, the title was only ever spoken in reverence¡ªor something like it. Had she thought he was some sort of deity? The giant was primitive by his estimations, so perhaps seeing his ship fall from the sky appeared to be some sort of divine interaction to her? It would explain quite a bit, but something about the observation felt off.

    If that was the case, what was she doing at the bridge with O¡¯hara, and why was she running him down, only to play prison guard? He just couldn¡¯t trust the alien. It would be reckless to think otherwise of a creature born on a planet so far away from Sol. Why should he project human traits on it? There was no telling if it could truly even feel empathy.

    He feverishly shook the thoughts from his mind. He had a task at hand. The engineer needed that food more than he would like to admit. But, however hungry he was, there was no point in going for the food if he was going to be ambushed. He pulled out the datapad¡ªnow connected to the barracks¡ªand opened the airlock camera.

    There she rested, underneath the makeshift tent. He was reasonably sure she was sleeping. The alien curled up into itself on the ground, chest heaving with exaggerated breaths. Maroon skin soaked up what little light breached the shelter, almost glowing under the sun¡¯s touch.

    Maybe it would be best to wait for her to leave. He never saw the giant away from the door, but she had to go somewhere to gather food and resources, right? No. The clap of his palms hitting his cheeks made a bit more noise than he would have liked. He wouldn¡¯t get cold feet when the object of his desire was within reach. The food was deposited just behind the metal barrier in front of him. It shouldn¡¯t take more than a second or two to grab it and return.

    He braced himself for the upcoming burst of movement. His hand hovered above the locking mechanism, ready to come alive at any moment.

    Get out. Get the food. Get back in.

    Simple.

    Three. Two. One.

    He pressed the door panel. A short creak in the pipes signaled the imminent change in air pressure. The hiss of depressurization was far louder than he expected, a whirlwind of air blowing past him and right out the door.

    There went his chance at stealth.

    He lunged the short distance towards the platter of food, but a sharp movement from the tent took his attention.

    Burning orange eyes gazed into his own, their glow more vibrant than he recalled. Great despair submerged the smoldering pupils, her glistened irises studying his form.

    <i>*¡°Star-sent? ¡­ Please ¡­ forgive me. I was unable to save the rest of them. I am insufficient.¡±*</i>

    He snapped out of the brief trance, quickly snatching up the food and scrambling back into the barrack¡¯s doorway. He pushed his elbow into the door to snap it shut with a clamorous *<i>thud</i>*. He had to hold back a wince as the metal pressed painfully into his arm¡ªit would likely leave a nasty bruise later. There was no point in cycling the airlock, so he simply pushed his way through to the kitchen. He flopped onto the nearest piece of furniture.

    The cool metal bench beneath him gave little comfort as he lay the food on the table. He stared at the meal for a while, eventually breaking out of the haze. A question returned to him¡ªone he asked himself quite often after landing on the tomato planet.

    ¡°What?¡±

    He knew exactly what she had said. He just ¡­ wasn¡¯t sure how to process it. He poked at the food before him as he thought, not exactly ready to eat amidst his thoughts. He was overlooking the most important detail; she could actually talk. He knew he heard a voice before, but now he could concretely apply the voice in his head to her. Speaking with an alien was a novel idea, but he had yet to understand what the everloving fuck she meant by that. She tried saving the others? The giant was right fucking there when O¡¯hara died, like hell she tried to ¡®save the others.¡¯ His fist slammed against the table in frustration, pain quickly swelling from the contact. One way or another, the giant couldn¡¯t stay outside forever. She would grow bored or die out there, letting him *<i>leave</i>*.

    Preferably sooner than later.

    \- - - - -

    But, of course, she didn¡¯t. Three days went by¡ªmarking a week-long siege on his poor-mans castle¡ªand little had changed. Wake up, eat some raw vegetables covered in paste, and find something to bide his time while waiting. Except now, everyday around sunset, he would find some food packaged at his front door.

    The gifts were mostly grilled fish with a complement of various roots and berries. After poking and prodding some of the foods to test if they were safe, he found quite a few plants to be much to his liking. His favorite was a baby blue colored root shaped like ginger in the way it formed bulbous fingers

    Upon sinking his teeth into the plant, he found it held a mushy texture similar to baked potatoes. Its taste, on the other hand, reminded him of Old Earth thanksgiving stuffing. It was hardly served on Mars, but it was a treat every time. Of the other foods he found on the substitute plate, there were the equivalents of leafy greens, edible flowers, and peppers. Some he enjoyed as much as the blueroot, but others were just as bland as the raw vegetables he had grown accustomed to. Still, compared to the chunky nutrient puree? The meals were heaven on a leaf.

    Yet, he couldn¡¯t help but find himself frustrated at the persistence displayed by the giant. With how good the meals were, he felt like he was being bought out by the primitive. His distrust grew and diminished at equal rates, creating a bubbling uncertainty within his chest.

    By the time the fourth day had rolled around, the effects of being stuck inside the module was starting to get to him. He had very little to do, and found himself meandering the halls of the barracks. Of course, he spent some time playing some games in the recreation room, but he still felt the pangs of regret for the procrastination each time. There <i>*had*</i> to be something productive for him to do. Something to keep him busy, rather than just occupied.

    So, while he was pacing, he would seek out wiring panels within the hallways to poke and prod at, learning as he went. His digging got him zapped a few times, but he¡¯d rather the pain than be bored out of his mind. Much to his disappointment, there were only so many access panels to comb through.

    Once again, absolute boredom reached him, only the tapping of fingers on metal breaking the silence. A shower might keep him entertained for a few minutes.

    \- - - - -

    Sebas alerted him to the alien food delivery at the front door while he finished up his freezing cold shower. Subconsciously, he made his way to the front door to quickly grab the meal like on the previous days, but a growing resentment nagged at him.

    Emotions were getting the better of him. Every moment was spent in agonizing boredom as each day he waited for something to change. A man wasn¡¯t meant to spend hours a day staring at the wall, fiddling with his hands to find something to do. Something had to change, and he was going to be the catalyst.

    Now was the time to confront the roadblock.

    He burst from the door, air rushing out behind him. The bulk of his body stayed within the doorway and a hand kept on the panel, ready to close the door at a moment''s notice.

    Instantly, he regretted not arranging a plan upon eye contact with the alien.

    The frills atop her head flowed in the breeze. Her giant form lay on her side with only leather garments to preserve her modesty, two arms holding her body to an attentive position, the other arms busy intertwining plant fibers into a specific shape. They both stopped their actions when she noticed him, her eyes raising to meet his. She waited patiently, but expectantly, not a single word exchanged between them as the moment dragged on.

    What was he waiting for, an apology?

    He clenched his hands into fists, wiping away any apprehension he had¡ªa stern gaze selling his emotion. ¡°I don¡¯t have any gifts for you, there¡¯s no point waiting here.¡± Seconds felt like hours as he waited for a reply, but only the wind caught his ear.

    Her eyes widened for a split second at his outburst, but settled to a content look after a moment, the giant¡¯s tail waving slightly behind her form.

    <i>*¡°I do not wait for gifts. I wait for you.¡±* </i>She gestured to him with her free arms. Her voice was soft and kind, like a mother reassuring her kin.

    A long stretch of silence permeated the area, his glare wavering¡ªincapable of keeping his tough guy act to scare off the giant. Unconsciously, his hands gripped the leafy plate, its underside soft and clearly fresh picked. With one last glance back to the alien, he closed the door with his unbruised elbow. This time, much more gently, his mind reeling from the interaction. He pressed his back to the smooth metal door and slid down to the floor¡ªa squealing noise permeating the airlock as he moved. His knees bent, held loosely in front of his torso.

    She wasn¡¯t going anywhere soon.

    It certainly wasn¡¯t going to be easy to tell her to fuck off now. She was waiting for *<i>him*</i>. Not just some random gift, but him *<i>specifically*</i>. He let a groan drag out.

    Just one obstacle. One tall, scary, and religious obstacle stood between him and his future. He wanted to feel more angry at her, but her calm response killed his energy. What was he meant to feel? From the crash, to the interactions, to all the negative emotions ruminating in his mind, he just couldn¡¯t figure out what the giant¡¯s plan truly was. All he knew was that he didn¡¯t want to get too close, and she was damn-near glued to the entrance.

    But how did he deal with her? The alien wasn¡¯t hostile. Maybe he could just ¡­ walk out and continue with his life. Then again, he didn¡¯t want her to just be following him around while he worked. That said nothing of the tools at his disposal.

    How would she react to the technology that was probably millenia ahead of anything she had seen before? What kind of effect would that have on the primitive? He didn¡¯t really want to see how she would react to the all-terrain planet rover, not to mention an actual plasma firearm.

    His stomach grumbled, interrupting his train of thought. He could think about it all after he ate. For now he needed to stave off starvation for the night.

 Chapter 6

    ¡°Sebas, what do you do when you¡¯re bored?¡±

    Harrison lounged back on the couch, gnawing at a chunk of tough cabbage. The kitchen benches were painful to sit on for more than a few minutes, so he much preferred having his morning vegetable and paste in the living room¡ªat least the seating situation was comfortable there.

    [I am unsure how to answer that¡ª]

    ¡°¡ªquestion, yes. You¡¯ve said that a dozen times now. Do you have any affinity for conversation?¡± He rolled his eyes. The engineer knew the AI didn¡¯t, but speaking out loud to something kept him sane. Unfortunately, Sebas¡¯s monotonous voice repeating the exact same lines over and over again was like listening to nails scraping on a chalkboard. He didn¡¯t know why he even bothered to ask him questions, knowing that it would regurgitate the same eight words back at him again.

    [My programming is intended for direct communication with the module¡¯s systems, sir.]

    Yeah, that just about summed it up. The last few days exemplified why the AI was only meant for sharing information, and nothing more. He sat up and rested his elbows atop his knees, allowing himself a hunched position.

    Of course, Sebas¡¯s failure to make up for actual companionship wasn¡¯t what weighed on his mind the most. Hell, the alien outside and her cryptic words didn¡¯t even worry him. It was easy to ignore the giant¡ªeye contact being the only necessary interaction as he retrieved his daily offering.

    No, his real worries came from the barracks itself. Apparently the crash did a lot more damage than the diagnostics said. Each day another piece of the module fell apart: the showers, the airlock door, the foldable tables ¡­ the list went on. No proper tools were available, so jury-rigged repairs were the only option. Each time would leave a patchwork mess while fixing the items, as his resources were limited to whatever was in the cargo bay¡ªusually sheets of cloth and cooking utensils. By now, evidence of his hasty refits were littered throughout every room; most notably being the knife left in between the sliding airlock door meant to keep it from shutting itself ¡­ permanently.

    Today, he would have to inspect the water boiler. Sebas said the heater only needed more energy to perform properly. Well, that was a load of horsepiss. The damn hot water only lasted for a minute at best. It ruined any sense of comfort to be shocked awake by the frigid temperature.

    He made his way to the cargo section of the barracks in hopes to return what little enjoyment he had left. Rows of crates obscured the view of the nearly hidden entrance, a door just a few inches taller than him blocking access to the boiler room.

    He pressed for the door to open.

    Nothing happened, so he repeated the action with a bit more force. No change.

    Not this shit again. He rested his palm against the door, letting out a heavy breath.

    So, the door was asking to be opened the hard way, huh? The jammed airlock was already an introductory lesson in breaking down a door. He knew just what it wanted him to do.

    The sound of popping knuckles echoed in the enclosed space.

    After many attempts trying to open up the front entrance, he gave up, fashioning his own key: a crowbar. Not on purpose, no, he was far too frustrated to think clearly. It was a beautiful blessing given to him after his short fuze went off. All it took was one metal bar ripped from the folding furniture slapped into the wall twice until it bent and curved into the right angle for its purpose.

    Except, the impromptu key¡¯s function was only realized after his frustrations cooled off.

    Now was the time to apply the learned art of ¡®locks only stop honest people.¡¯

    With a sharp jab and a little bit of elbow grease, the flimsy mechanical lock shattered, an audible jumble of broken metal accompanying the change in pressure. It¡¯s not like locks would be necessary now anyway, considering his situation. There weren''t any other humans out there to keep out.

    Just him.

    No one. Not even future colonists.

    A familiar overwhelming sensation came over his exhausted body. His head grew heavy and his legs grew weak under the unexpected burden, nearly causing him to fall right into the broken door.

    There really was nothing out there but him¡­ No one else to share his success, his failure, nor his companionship. Was his goal worth it in the face of a lifetime sentence of solitude?

    The existential dread of his circumstance melted into his skull, a sickening mix of an uncertain future and despair flushing through every neuron.

    A unique scent of warm water and rotten eggs wafted through his olfactory. The aroma bounced around his brain for a moment, then snapped him out of his thoughts. Broken boiler. Right. He had a job at hand. Something to keep his attention away from¡­ other thoughts.

    A mess of white pipes humming with the flow of water appeared behind the limp door. The tubes connected the varied assortment of machines within the room, each one a single instrument in the cacophonous orchestra of noise. Their efforts were joined by the constant whirring made by the atmospheric water generator, its familiar buzz a consistent sound throughout the module.

    His foot was enveloped by a thin layer of water as he stepped forward. The film of liquid reflected the dim industrial lights above.

    There had to be a mechanical failure here.

    Footsteps splashed the water as he moved, begrudgingly embracing the return of wet feet. A scratching panic found its way into his mind, the immediate cause of the problem failing to reveal itself under his scrutinous gaze. If the water leaked any more, it might seep out far enough to damage the rest of the barracks. He doubled down on his searching.

    He finally located the culprits after spending an exhausting amount of time inspecting each pipe for damage. Most of them were fully intact, but a select few had either dislodged or were missing entirely. Again¡ªmuch like the wiring¡ªhe was out of his depth, and stuck without tools or replacements.

    A few ideas for repairs swirled in his mind. It would probably take a bit of time, but with some thick leaves and moss glue, he was confident in his ability to at least fix the misaligned tubes.

    \- - - - -

    The engineer rested on one knee, allowing the moist floor to wet it. He was too tired to care, and preferred spending a few minutes resting on the water to standing up. He mused the thought of submerging himself; at least then he could wash off the sweat he accrued over the hours of work in the cool liquid.

    Although arduous and certainly temporary in nature, the repairs were quite ingenious¡ªespecially considering his primitive toolset. Harrison let himself breathe and admire his work for a few minutes before making his way back to the dining room benches, making a mental reminder to clean the spill later. He pulled out his datapad to check the time of day, hoping it was nearing sunset. A warm meal sounded great right now.

    ¡°Sebas, share the east side camera feed to my datapad.¡±

    A flicker on his display showed a dim orange sun peeking out beyond the vast ocean. Short waves glistened with light as they rose and fell, their calming cycle reminding him of the grand pacific on Old Earth. Puffs of clouds¡ªcolored pink and orange by the sunset¡ªflowed amongst the sky, intermingling with their white brethren like playful wisps. The grass within the meadow danced in the ever-constant breeze. He actually quite missed the natural beauty of the planet, especially the night skies. Being in the barracks had kept him in the metaphorical and literal dark for quite a while now.

    An English accent made itself known without warning. [Unknown bipedal lifeform at south entrance.]

    He nearly jumped at the sudden statement. His dinner had arrived, evidently. The food was¡ªwithout doubt¡ªthe best part of the day, given that everything else was distilled boredom or makeshift repairs. Despite their simplicity, the fact that the meals were warm and fresh separated their quality from the tasteless puree by miles. Weary arms raised into the air, stretching out his back as he yawned.

    The same nagging question flared up once more. Why did she follow him? Was it all because he fell from space?

    She was always sitting outside, tending to a fire or weaving complex tapestry he couldn¡¯t make sense of. The whole time she was just ¡­ *<i>waiting for him</i>.*

    A long breath escaped him.

    He was so confused. There was no way to fully understand her intentions outside of those cryptic words, and they were as useful as any other metric he had.

    He already built up the confidence to confront her once, but that just left more questions than answers. To some part of him, it was upsetting that she maintained the same calm, collected demeanor, even when he raised his voice at her.

    The alien wasn¡¯t even hostile, just real scary looking. Her overbearing form ticked some primal fear within him, but the way she acted was quite the opposite. The simple activities in conjunction with her non-threatening demeanor failed to sell the look of a threatening alien.

    Why couldn''t she be some rabid beast, a despicable antagonist to be fought and killed? It posed a difficult moral dilemma. Not only could she speak, but she could also <i>*understand*</i> him. How was he supposed to hold onto his need for closure¡ªrevenge for O¡¯Hara, even¡ªwhen all he could see was something so different, but so alike?

    She wouldn¡¯t harm him, if what she said was true. Maybe it was time to push his luck and see how far she would let him go. He could exercise his freedoms, as well as gather some much needed resources. It was worth the risk. The only thing he had left otherwise was the same eight lines of repeated dialog and endless paste. What did he have left to lose?

    The engineer got up and grabbed his backpack, making sure to grab extra containers for storage. Making his way to the airlock, he quickly came up with a list of needed materials while he was out. As long as the giant kept her passive temperament¡­

    On second thought, it wasn¡¯t bad to be at least a little prepared, right?

    ¡°Sebas, open the airlock camera.¡±

    The ever-present aquatic-looking giant rested on leaves padding the ground. She sat on her shins, tail wrapped around her own waist, the sharp tip of her extra limb gently flowing up and down in her lap. Large hands were busy weaving some fibers together in a criss-cross pattern. Deft fingers of her upper limbs meticulously threaded pieces through others held by the secondary set, intricate matrices forming at the tips of her claws as she serenely let her eyes list wantonly. Like a ballerina swaying across the floor, her appendages danced in a succinct choreography, narrowly avoiding each other. Again, her actions conflicted with the oppressive look.

    He gathered what information he could from her eyes. Her focus flicked between the door and the activity before her, clear alacrity paired with the anticipation for him to appear at a moment''s notice.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    His paranoia quelled, he presented himself, the door offering a slight hiss as the natural air poured weakly into the module. The alien looked up at him expectantly, but said nothing at his arrival. The only acknowledgement beyond the brief regard was a slowing in the creation of her tapestry. She seemed used to his silent retrieval of food, content to wait. The waning sun warmed his skin, its glow casting long shadows of the giant before him.

    Now that he had a proper, relaxed look at her, she really was quite massive. Her gigantic form still reached above him despite her kneeling posture. Hell, he stood under grav-bus stops shorter than her.

    Her tail unwrapped from her waist with a lazy flick behind her, almost as long as she was tall, and tipped with a viciously sharp spike. Vibrant irises stared right back at him, growing brighter by the second. The triangular ears on her head extended outwards, forming knife-shaped points.

    Every fiber of his being screamed for him to flee, but now wasn¡¯t the time to go back. He needed to explore his freedom. He had to ignore the aroma of cooked meat below him, no matter how tantalizing it smelled.

    One exploratory step was taken out of the airlock, soft grass giving little resistance against his boots.

    The alien tipped her head at an angle, looking thoroughly confused at his tepid actions.

    His exploration was momentarily stopped to gauge her reaction, his legs tensed and ready to jump back at any hostility. She never really saw him leave the airlock, just the short moments it took to scamper off with whatever she left for him, so there was no telling what the giant might do since he¡¯d exposed himself. He wasn¡¯t worked up enough to use his anger as a deterrent, either.

    Strained moments ticked by while the tune of waves crashing against the distant shore played soothed the ambience. With a shaky breath, he took another exploratory step, keeping all of his attention on the alien.

    Her arms rested in her lap¡ªholding onto the tapestry-in-progress¡ªbut allowed sharp fingers to tap lightly on the fibers. Her body lightly swayed in unison with the motion of her tail, much like a gentle breeze.

    Rotating around the giant, he forged ahead towards his goal. His shoulders were kept tight and held his arms low, but in front of him, palms faced down to prevent any perceived hostility. Metaphorically and quite literally, he was clenching his cheeks. But, he pressed forward despite the nagging uncertainty.

    All the while, the giant simply stared at him, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. <i>*¡°Where are you going, star-sent?¡±* </i>Her voice was soft, nearly covering up the subtle tone of worry behind it.

    He froze in place, unsure of what to say or do. An expectant stare on her eyes pressured him to respond, but his mouth failed to produce one.

    What should he say? Should he say anything at all?

    Why was he still so scared of her reaction? The whole point of going out here was to push his luck and see what she meant by waiting for him; it was time he made a move.

    Without a word, he turned around on one foot and faced the treeline. Let''s see how this goes.

    Step eight, Reznov. Freedom.

    His confidence grew with each step closer to the red canopy. Sparing not a single glance back, he kept his ears on high alert, just in case the giant changed her mind.

    The common sounds of the forest greeted him as he drew near, a chorus of croaking and short squawks playing in his ears. Their familiar vocalizations were a reminder of what he missed while locked inside the barracks.

    He¡¯d sacrificed years of his life cooped up fixing problems in a metal box, and as soon as the opportunity to escape that life came about, it returned to him just as quickly.

    Billions of light years away, yet he was still forced into the same shitty labor, under the same shitty lighting, with the same shitty chance of ever getting out of it again.

    God, he was glad to get the hell out of the barracks and go outside, even if it did mean confronting the biggest obstacle he had at the moment. One look back revealed the giant to be standing up and watching, but not making any moves to follow him. With her expression being unreadable from so far away, all he had to go off of was her tail swaying curiously.

    Well, he wasn¡¯t dead yet, so his whole plan of ¡®testing the waters¡¯ was going pretty alright.

    Now was his opportunity to capitalize on it.

    \- - - - -

    The pile of sticks was doing no favors for the wound on his left arm. The rough bark and sharp points of the firewood kept threatening to reopen it. It didn¡¯t matter. It was a sacrifice Harrison was more than willing to make; he could now cook his own damn meals by the fire. Plenty of dry tinder and fuel could be found in the forest, he only needed to look down.

    Today¡¯s haul was pretty good, considering he also managed to collect more moss glue and other plant fibers. Although, despite the successful collection, he found himself on edge the entire time. Brief flashes of orange often appeared in his peripheral vision during his trip. It was clearly the alien stalking his every move, though she never made any motions to interact with him. Not once did she show herself fully while he ventured into the woods. That was just fine, he was happy to let her¡ªas long as she kept to herself.

    The sun sinking behind the far sea signaled that his time outdoors was coming to an end, the final rays of light stretching throughout the forest and painting both leaves and trees alike in its yellow glow.

    Confirming his haul, he trudged back to the gray brick of a module, spilling some pieces of his stacked resources on the way¡ªarms could only hold so many sticks afterall, and his were proving to be terrible, even by that metric. Upon returning, the giant was nowhere to be found, only the embers of a dying fire as evidence of her activity.

    Her offering still rested at the airlock door¡ªundisturbed and surely cold by now. However, an additional contribution earned his notice. A stack of dry wood lay piled against the side of the airlock, clearly left there for him.

    Just what was she trying to do?

    Two loud clicks of a tongue caught his attention, prompting him to disregard the possible addition to his usual offerings. The armored giant crested the hill, two hands holding a bundle of sticks and another arm holding a large log above her shoulder.

    She faced him, triangular ears unfolding once more. A muscled arm gestured to the firewood behind him.

    With a quick glance backwards, the question spilled out in sheer confusion. ¡°...What?¡±

    The alien dropped the wood onto the ground near her tent, turning to face him once free of the burden. <i>*¡°I have provided enough fuel for you to construct a glorious fire. I pray that the Goddess finds this acceptable.¡±*</i>

    ¡°Uhm¡­¡± He was left a tad lost in the religious wording and her suddenly energetic ¡­ ¡®speech.¡¯ Four sets of clawed fingers tapped almost nervously, excitement causing her webbed feet to just barely succeed at keeping her grounded. The Goddess? A curiosity gnawed at him, a chance to possibly understand why she did what she did coming to mind, but he stopped himself. What if she took a question of her faith wrong, undoing all the thinly-veiling benevolence she offered?

    His head peaked over the sticks, eyes unable to meet hers. ¡°...Thanks?¡±

    <i>*¡°</i>O-Of course, star-sent! <i>The Sky Goddess wills it, and so it shall be d-done.¡±* </i>

    Unsure of how to respond, he simply nodded and returned into the barracks.

    The Sky Goddess huh? So she had an established religion? A central theology like that could only come from a group, so that meant there had to be others of her kind out there.

    The ability to communicate, show emotion, and form communities confirmed the primitives to be social creatures, much like humans, so why was she here by herself? Is there a village nearby? Both questions he had no answer for¡ªonly hope that he may never have to deal with any more giants.

    \- - - - -

    The dining hall was an ideal spot for what he had planned; it was a clear open area, devoid of any nearby flammable materials. A few flicks of the lighter, and the kindling was lit, giving way to a small but promising heat. Squatting down, he watched the flashes of flame that danced between the sticks, connecting one another in a chain reaction. Slowly, the miniscule glow grew to a hearty blaze, lighting up the entirety of the metal room.

    He was looking forward to cooking the raw meat on his own. As delicious as the crisp fish was, there was nothing quite like juicy medium-rare steaks; seared enough to be safe, but pink where it counted. It would be hard to prepare them properly¡ªgiven the limited grill¡ªbut they¡¯ll cook alright with enough attention. His mouth was already watering in anticipation.

    After letting the steaks down onto the crude grill and humming his satisfaction at the sizzle, he took a seat¡ªcrossing his legs to get closer to the fire. It¡¯d been some time since he¡¯d been able to enjoy an open flame. It was almost nostalgic of times so long ago, even if it was only a few years. The time spent alone made hours feel like days, and those few short years feel like centuries ago. It was only exacerbated by being stuck between talking to himself and an ¡°AI¡± that could only repeat the same few lines. It was a glorified text to speech system attached to a basic computer.

    At least in the factory mess halls there were others to talk to, people to keep insanity at bay. Being stuck in his own mind was getting to him. He shook his head and refocused on the grill. The meat was starting to brown.

    Just as the tender flesh started to sizzle its song of perfection, an alarm blared, startling him enough to fall over. Water sprinkled from the ceiling, dowsing the fire completely and leaving him soaked, staring at the sodden meat he was looking forward to.

    God Damnit.

    \= = = = =

    The fire¡¯s flickering fingers caressed the image of the distant hill, its warm glow reflecting off the metal wall next to her.

    She was starting to believe her efforts were in vain, receiving only brisk eye contact each day for her offerings. She had to keep trying. There was little else for her to do, and she couldn¡¯t leave behind the being bestowed upon her to find the others. Waiting for the outsider was her only hope for salvation¡ªhe was stranded on the mainland with no return trip planned.

    And so she waited, providing what little she could in hopes of appeasing the star-sent. Compared to meandering daily in search of the others who were to accompany her for her trial, this would at least satisfy the trial, assuming she could even do that much.

    And now ¡­ it was her time to fear the Sky Goddess¡¯s punishment. The once ambivalent deity saw fit to make themselves known, and their gifted trial was being mocked by her failings. She spent restless nights pondering what horrid fate might befall her were she to lose not only the other Malkrin, but the outsider too. For a time, that worry was all too present, the star-sent keeping only to himself and hardly interacting with her¡ªsave for briefest of glances in her direction.

    But today, she was blessed. The outsider actually left the castle! It was difficult to get her tail to stop swinging out of elation at the prospect of her piety being rewarded. Even if it didn¡¯t directly interact with her, the fact that it was doing something beyond sequestering itself inside the strange metal building was exciting, and may prove to be another opportunity for her to overcome this trial.

    So, she took the chance and followed the star-sent into the forest, doing everything possible to escape its notice. Each tree acted as cover, allowing her form to flow between the brush.  Although slow, the outsider always seemed to track her position, despite the absolute silence that surrounded her. Every time she would peak, its whole body would twist erratically in her direction. Gods, even when she was behind the outsider it was still capable of spotting her fleeting body. And she was sure she only saw two eyes on its head¡­ Nevertheless, her observations continued.

    The activities of the being in question were rather mundane compared to what she suspected. It would pick up sticks, harvest slime plants, and gather tough plant leaves¡ªtasks not suited for the Sky Goddess¡¯s gift. It did menial collecting that she would have gladly done if only asked. If it would help complete its duty doing ¡­ whatever it was sent to do, then she would offer her assistance, however it could be provided.

    Promising that the star-sent would never have to do such lowly work, she started collecting the things that it deemed of value for its task, her eyes burning with determination to see her trial through.

    \- - - - -

    The star-sent had returned to its lair, firewood in tow. It was appreciative of her blessing, even responding with a ¡®thank you.¡¯ Apparently, she was actually getting somewhere with her offerings! Her frills vibrated in elation, her mind recalling the recent events over and over again to relive the high. Offering a prayer of thanks to the Sky Goddess, as well as the Land god who looked after her until her trial was bestowed, she returned to the firepit.

    Settling down, she stoked the flame and adjusted the base of the embers. It didn''t take long for the fire to liven up, its light piercing the moonlit grass. Playful shadows danced around the various items left on the ground in the flame¡¯s wake.

    Her legs crossed as her tail wrapped around her waist; the comforting limb always helped to bring her inner peace when laid in her lap. Usually the comfort was welcomed in troubling times, but now it served to help keep her mind focused on the task at hand, rather than thinking of her success today.

    The metal shield around the outsider was cracking, a metaphorical light at the top of the ocean revealing itself. All that was left was to apply pressure to get through. But how? She was again left in the hands of fate, never knowing when the star-sent would appear-

    <i>*THUNK*</i>

    Her head shot up, ears twisting to locate the direction of the sudden disruption. It was right in front of her, eyes focusing in on the closed airlock door, and ¡­ the star-sent.

    It was approaching her, a package in one hand, and a metal pole in the other. Red dripping meat was skewered through on the rod. No words were spoken, its eye fur curled into a scowl and its clothing damp. Just what went on inside the castle?

    Neither of their gazes met as the outsider sat down and crossed its legs. It chose a spot on the opposite side of her, but at an angle so as to not draw much attention. A long exhale left the star-sent¡¯s small mouth. Rough hands gripped the metal stick, hanging it above the fire to cook the meat.

    Constant changes in its facial structure accompanied quiet mutterings she could not understand. Something troubled it dearly. The same emotions mimicked that of lost hunters; those souls both unlucky by being stranded alone at sea by a storm, and lucky by finding their way back. Hardly were they ever the same person that left.

    She reached out with her right arms, but quickly retracted them. It must have been silent for a reason, so she let it brood undisturbed.

    And so, they sat there, not a single word of conversation spoken between them as the outsider cooked and ate¡ªthe meat looking rather delicious. Content to enjoy the silent company, she let herself observe the foreign being and its unique mannerisms.

    Then, as quickly as the star-sent arrived, it left. Leaving only bent grass as evidence of its presence. The space felt empty without the strange being. It was only a short amount of time, yes, but it was a significant enough encounter to leave an impression on her.

    Once more that night, she thanked the Sky Goddess. The shield was cracking right before her eyes, and not a single ounce of pressure was applied.

 Chapter 7

    Harrison hated whack-a-mole¡ªeven as a child, it was a frustrating affair. Maybe it was his young engineer brain speaking, but hitting something just for it to pop right back up rubbed him the wrong way.

    Even if he didn¡¯t quite loathe it as a child, he certainly despised it now. A pressurized stream of water brought him back to his senses, narrowly missing his face as a jarring symphony of thunking pipes and whirring machines reentering his ears

    God damnit. He didn¡¯t have enough limbs for this shit.

    Both of his elbows¡ªand even a knee¡ªwere pressed up against the jury-rigged pipe underneath him, leaving only one leg to keep him grounded. The vertical tubing made it difficult to escape the cold, practically forcing him to wrap his entire body around it to cover the various leaks. Frigid liquid seeped from beneath his hold, its biting touch threatening to turn his extremities blue in the process.

    Dim industrial lights shone down upon his frozen skin, emphasizing its unhealthy pale color. The task of repairing the water overflow was impeded by numbed fingers, his shaking limiting his dexterity further. It was especially difficult to not only have to plug the spouts, but also keep his hands free, so they might actually begin to patch them.

    With a harsh slap, he lathered homemade duct tape onto the hole¡ªan ingenious invention created by combining moss glue and thick leaves. It was a massive improvement to the flimsy plastic tarp used previously, given its current failure. Its hydrophobic properties were crucial in making sure the pipes stayed sealed.

    Three down, four to go.

    A surge of water enveloped his head, thoroughly sapping what little heat was left. In a moment of panic, he jumped back, quickly realizing his mistake as the pipe came alive, spewing its liquid contents in every direction.

    ¡°FUCK! Arrgggh.¡± His frustrated outcry reverberated through the closed off room, the deluge of water now joining the cacophony of noises.

    He stood there defeated for a moment. His body shivered, his fingers locked and protested as they curled, and numbness crawled up from sodden feet, but he couldn¡¯t just stop. No one else was there to fix this but him. He needed to get some actual tools at one point though¡­

    Feeling his teeth chatter, he let the near frozen waters overtake him once more, their intense embrace making breathing nearly impossible.

    He already dealt with enough bullshit from this world. Broken machinery, telepathic giants, and repeating AI conversations could only be endured as long as he had a warm shower to return to after it all. Cold showers? Hell no. No way. If he was subject to one more, he might as well just give up altogether.

    Five more to go.

    \= = = = =

    Shar¡¯khee sat upon the padded leaves, their cushioning effect quite pleasing on her shins. Four hands held up her finished tapestry. It took many backbreaking moons, but it was finally completed.

    She was happy to finally have the work done with, but a bit melancholy as the piece grew on her, offering a slice of beauty in the harsh environment and providing. As fine as the weaving was, the meticulous work it took was nothing to scoff at. Her toiling needed to be undone several times to achieve the shapes she wanted. As odd as it was to dedicate such effort to the Sky Goddess, it felt right, considering the trial given to her. The weaved fabric, although crude, presented a beautiful scene of the Goddess¡¯s divine interaction.

    Intricately connected fibers outlined a bright star, sending forth an array of shining metal fragments towards a decrepit, deserted land¡ªwhich was her favorite detail of the artwork. The otherworldly gift received by a group of weary Malkrin rested upon the orange shore. It was difficult to portray their actual expressions¡ªgiven the limited nature of the material used¡ªso their enervated posture was exemplified in its place. The Sky Goddess herself reigned above the scene as an amorphous light, bestowing the land beneath with her star-sent gift.

    She carefully wrapped the tapestry into a roll, setting it into a container made of thickleaf¡ªmaking sure no harm came to her heartfelt art.

    Said ¡®amorphous light¡¯ would have been better detailed if she knew the Sky Goddess¡¯s form. Like all other followers in her kingdom, she favored belief in the Land God¡ªhis gifts were near endless, considering their fertile harvests and plentiful land. Prayers, offerings, and service were almost always addressed towards the God which so many relied upon to feed their families, so seldom would such things be directed towards Goddess of the Sea or Sky. And so, Shar¡¯khee¡¯s village church was lined with tapestries, murals, and sculptures displaying his light¡ªonly paltry shrines standing in service of the other two, if even that.

    But now? The Goddess herself had become front and center in the Malkrin¡¯s life, entrusting Shar-khee with her gift: a guide from the stars above, given flesh. Yet, upon its arrival, she could not help but feel as if there was something off. The star-sent¡¯s castle felt so barren compared to the level of decoration she was used to in places of worship. If this was to be a site of significance, that would have to change.

    The tapestry was only the beginning of her future creations. She was never one for artistic expression, only dabbling in small sculptures and paintings. However, the motivation instilled upon her by the Sky Goddess¡¯s blessing had struck a chord, Father Monchanuo¡¯s lessons in weaving shining through the elaborate artwork. Never as a young pup, would she have thought practicing the arts would become more appreciated than combat training.

    Now, all that was left was to hang it properly.

    Just as she got up to choose a proper location for the first of many adornments, the castle door swung open on its hinges, revealing a damp star-sent. A fuzzy white fabric was wrapped around its body, covering up much of his usually exposed skin.

    The outsider gazed past her, eyes unfocused. Its footsteps were lethargic, dragging feet and limb for one step, only to stumble and lurch as his legs failed to keep up. The star-sent¡¯s breathing came shuddered and shallow, rapid clicks from his mouth matching the vibration of its muscles, arms crossed to hold itself underneath the cloth wrapping.

    Once red lips were darkened to a sickly purple, its vibrantly pink flesh now pale like ivory.

    The shivering form trudged towards the only source of heat it could find¡ªthe fire she had kept going for the convenience it provided.

    Pale skin, seeking heat¡­ Oh no.

    Acting quickly, she made for the firewood to stoke the flames higher, hoping to warm up the shivering outsider. Within moments, a hardy blaze applied thick waves of heat in its sphere of influence.

    Locking eyes with the star-sent, a small voice reached her. ¡°T-t-thank you.¡±

    It seemed to be doing better, now with the blazing fire, but what could she do more to help? She gestured at his prone position.<i>*¡°A-are you okay? Is the fire warm enough?¡±* </i>

    Just what happened inside the castle? It was hardly near the coldest time of the year, how in the Goddess¡¯ name could it be freezing?

    The star-sent simply bobbed its head up and down absentmindedly as it broke eye contact.

    Understanding that the outsider was not going to return any conversation, she sat down opposite it. Much like the previous night, the star-sent seemed content to keep to itself. Its glazed eyes were kept on the fire, irises reflecting the light. Only the soft whistling of the wind and crackling fire permeated the hill¡¯s ambience, all the while she studied the outsider.

    It was a rather squat looking being, especially laying on its side. The outsider looked ¡­ frail. She had observed toned muscles underneath the lean skin, but his size as a whole wasn¡¯t nearly enough to offer much power. Even more so, considering its paltry stature when compared to other female Malkrin. Besides the metal casing it arrived in, there was hardly anything special of note. Behind its stubby body must lay something significant, some gift from the Sky Goddess. Nevertheless, its survival and prosperity was her Goddess-given quest, so she would see to it that it never needed to worry about fending for itself. Not from the elements nor that which seeks to harm it.

    The star-sent rocked itself to a sitting position once its shaking finally ceased, still wrapping its arms around its knees. For a few moments, it appeared to contemplate something. It took brief glances back at the airlock door, often peeking at her right after¡ªseemingly thinking that she wouldn¡¯t notice.

    Its gaze still lingered at the fire when it spoke up, a somewhat disinterested tone on the outsider¡¯s voice. ¡°So, do you have a name or something?¡±

    Her blink came slowly, followed by her eyes lifting from the flicking fire. The pale tone had lifted from his skin, allowing her to finally focus on the piercing stare that held so much hesitation. Uncertainty.

    She was not expecting to have it speak to her at all, so to have a question asked of her left her mind reeling as thoughts clashed not to ruin what scrap of progress was offered. Her tail curled slowly around her on the ground, the comforting touch easing her mind.

    *<i>¡±My people have named me Shar¡¯khee, star-sent,¡±* </i>she offered, keeping her projections quiet so as not to expose her excitement. Nervousness caused her fingers to tap in sequence as she awaited the results of her answer. Was it satisfactory? Would it continue to talk to her?

    It raised the bit of fur above its eyes. ¡°Sharky, huh?¡± A scrutinizing glare looked her up and down, pressing a digit into its chest. ¡°Certainly fits you. ¡®Names Harrison Walker¡­ Now, do you mind telling me what you mean by ¡®star-sent?¡¯ And why do you need to follow me everywhere? What do you even hope to gain from it? I already made it clear I don¡¯t have anything for you.¡±

    So many questions. She could finally get somewhere with the star-sent, this was her chance to finally break through the shield. Just ¡­ do not mess it up.

    <i>*¡°Just as the title suggests, you were sent from the stars above by the Sky Goddess. That same Goddess bestowed upon me a trial; I must ensure you succeed in your endeavors. The one that brought you here from the stars, whatever it may be.¡±* </i>A meaty tail wrapped around her waist twice over, allowing her to brush along the skin with pointed claws. Two other hands clenched and let go of her tail as well, acting as an output for her nervousness. <i>*¡°I know not what I stand to gain from completing the task given to me, however. I assume it to be a chance to atone for my previous failings. Although, even without an incentive, it is still my duty to follow through with the Goddess¡¯ wishes.¡±*</i>

    A dull set of fingers ran through the star-sent¡¯s head fur as it looked down. ¡°Im not actually¡ª¡± It clenched its jaw¡ªsevering the sentence¡ªbefore returning eye contact. ¡°You¡¯re just gonna follow me around everywhere? What if I ask you to leave me be?¡± Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    That last question caught her off guard. What <i>*would*</i> she do if she were asked to leave? It was an unthinkable sin to abandon a trial¡ªstaying by its side was undoubtedly a requirement. Even through the summer storms, she would never leave it behind. She couldn¡¯t.

    <i>*¡°I am not sworn or bound to you ¡­ yet, but as a paladin of the Order¡ªnow under the Sky Goddess¡¯s trial¡ªI am required to protect you and assist your endeavors.¡±* </i>She placed three arms across her chest in horizontal lines, raising her head up high; the salute of obeisance solidified her words towards the star-sent. Letting her arms rest, she returned her focus towards him.<i>*¡°For your other query, I would hope you have good reasoning to deny me from my trial.¡±* </i>

    Its single set of arms crossed one another above its chest, a once hesitant glare changed to reflect a glint of irritation. ¡°And if I told you that you were actively inhibiting me from my ¡®endeavors?¡¯¡±

    Her eyes widened.<i> *¡°I¡­ How have I interfered?¡±* </i>

    Eye fur formed together at the center between its eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve chasing me down, stalked me in the woods, and followed me to this ¡­ this *<i>prison</i>*.¡± Its face grew into a light shade of red, flexed arms pushing the outsider to its feet, balancing the height difference. ¡° You¡¯re twice my size and prowl outside my door. I-I didn¡¯t know what the hell you want! I thought you wanted to eat me, kidnap me, or fucking ¡­ something! How was I supposed to know you weren¡¯t going to hurt me?¡± An accusing finger was pointed right at her, his energy returning through reserves unknown.

    She recoiled backwards at the sudden outburst, forced to balance weight on an arm extended behind her. Was¡­ was that how it saw the situation? Gods, no wonder it hid within the castle. How could she not see what she was doing?

    ¡°Do you know what being stuck inside that metal crypt does to a man?¡± It pointed towards the castle. Wait ¡­ man? ¡°Nothing but boredom in between exhausting bouts of makeshift repairs. Hell, I wouldn¡¯t have minded if it weren¡¯t for the fact that there''s no one else out here but me to get <i>*anything*</i> done. *<i>Just. Fucking. Me.</i>* Stranded on a planet literal galaxies away from home, with not a single soul other than myself.¡± Tears fell down its ¡­ *<i>his* </i>grimace.

    The once directed anger gave way to a dejected stance. Short arms lay lifeless at his sides. ¡°I thought that maybe if I distracted myself¡ªif I went about slaving away to create the frontier lifestyle I dreamed of¡ªI could ignore it all. And y¡¯know what? I couldn¡¯t even see if that would help. Why? Because a big *<i>fuck-off monster* </i>decided it wanted to door-camp me! I couldn¡¯t get the fucking chance to escape this metal prison, or even my own damn mind!¡± With a final crescendo, the star-sent grew quiet. Damp, pleading eyes glared back at her.

    His eyes dropped to the ground between them, wiping away wet droplets from his face for some time, neglecting to speak until the sobbing ran its course. His voice returned in a shallow snivel, cracking often between breaths. ¡°Mom never wanted a son who cried ¡­ Now here I am, bawling my eyes to a Goddamn <i>*alien*</i> because she''s the first thing that¡¯d listen to me on this God-forsaken planet. I¡¯m a week into this shitshow and I¡¯ve already broken down. Fucking humiliating.¡± A short, strained laugh trailed his final words.

    The only noise left in the clearing was hushed sniffling from the star-sent as Shar¡¯khee let the words sink in, torn by his accusations and lamentations. Now, the uncertain pieces of the outsider¡¯s actions began to come together.

    A sickening feeling rose up to her gills. Of course he would fear her, all she had done until this point was follow him across the mainland like a predator. Gods forgive her ignorance. He had been trapped alone inside the castle, fearing the monster outdoors¡ªliving an actual nightmare most pups have. She slapped a palm against the top of her snout, cringing at her overlooked mistake.

    Yet, the last part of the tirade caught her attention. He was deserted, away from his home, and solitary, most likely missing the other now dead star-sent¡ªdead because of her failure to save them.

    The outsider was suffering alone¡ªa very Malkrin emotion expressed in his monologue. She tempted the idea of kneeling down and apologizing profusely, but she felt it was an improper action. If his soliloquy was anything to go off of, emotional support is what he needed right now.

    He was already here at his most vulnerable, and as a faithful paladin, it was her place to offer aid. Maybe an opportunity to prove she was not the monster he thought she was.

    She stood up, taking on a hunched posture to keep the height difference between them equal before taking one large step forward. The outsiders'' eyes were still wet when he tore his gaze from the ground to meet hers. He was startled by her abrupt change in proximity, but neglected to move away, applying a palm atop his face. <i>*¡°You need not be alone in your struggles, Harrison¡±* </i>

    It took considerable effort to keep herself from closing the distance and offering an embrace. It was unbearable to see him struggle underneath internal pressures. So, with little else to offer she brought up the next best option: food. Food always brought her company in a way little else could, its tender embrace able to nourish her very soul.

    With a quick step away from the fire, she brought out a few ingredients. She had not caught any meat yet today, so instead she returned with a select few vegetables. Taking an idea from the star-sent, she speared various plants on a sharp stick, giving the column a soft shake to make sure they would not fall off. The array of colors on the pole was a sight to behold, offering a mix of hues to rival that of a rainbow.

    One by one, each of the plants were taken off and laid along a long leaf, each producing a mouth-watering scent. She presented the cooked meal to the now seated star-sent, his forearms resting atop his knees, giving a blank stare to the fire. Noticing her immediate presence, he snapped out of his thoughts. Giving her a sharp stare, he took the offering, hands rubbing against hers. Despite the flinch of his fingers upon contact, the digits left a surprisingly soft sensation on her own. With the feast in one palm, he looked down at his own hand, recreating the action in slow, longing motions.

    She got to work on her own meal, taking a seat arms length away from the star-sent¡ªthe previous one awakening a craving inside her. As she worked, her mind still ran circles around itself. Would else help to ease the grief? She looked down at the tortured star-sent, its smaller stature exaggerated even further by an aura of misery.

    Her tail uncurled from her waist¡ªseemingly with a mind of its own¡ªand moved behind the two of them. The appendage crept up behind him and laid itself along his shoulders in a slow, careful motion. The soft underside applying a gentle force, making sure to not apply the full weight. He jumped at the unforeseen contact, but allowed the tail to remain, decompressing over time under its hopefully comforting pressure.

    With a long sigh, the star-sent took another bite of the blue root, an almost inaudible mumble barely reaching her ears. ¡°Thanks.¡±

    Social deprivation itself was a plague amongst solitary hunters who ventured out for long nights. Although, they always had a village somewhere on the island to retreat to for lodging or social mingling. However, complete isolation was a completely different ocean of depth. Residing within an area that hosts none of your kind was demoralizing, knowing that no matter how much you explore, you will find no other. Such was the plight of the star-sent ¡­ and hers as well.

    She felt a hint of camaraderie with the outsider, knowing that she was not alone, both in her predicament, and on the mainland. She too was lost with none other to guide her, somewhat hoping the star-sent would have the answers to questions she was too scared to ask. The downtrodden star-sent worried her initially with his unconfident attitude¡ªconcerns that he may not have that which she sought crossing her mind¡ªbut after a moment of recollection, she realized these circumstances may be what the Goddess had intended afterall. Rather than giving her the solution outright, the Goddess had paired the two of them so that they might work together to find what they seek.

    With the awkwardness somewhat broken, now was an ideal time to get to know the star-sent more. It also might be a good way to dig the outsider out of his mood¡ªthere were a few questions itching at her mind anyways.

    <i>*¡°Harrison?¡±* </i>

    The food paused in front of his face, a hastened bite taking down the last of it. His eyes flicked in her direction, but failed to properly meet her own, wavering towards the castle he had just voiced despising his time inside. He wiped the starchy remnants from his mouth, his throat hoarse. ¡°What?¡±

    It was best to get a foundation first, right? She should start with the basics. She pursued the question, layering a soft tone atop her words. <i>*¡°Would you care to tell me of your purpose here?¡±*</i>

    He paused, letting out a short chuckle after a moment as the tension melted, giving way to a defeated, dry tone. ¡°S¡¯not like it matters anymore now. I ¡­ uh, *<i>we* </i>came here to set up a colony. I¡¯m sure you can see how well that¡¯s turned out.¡±

    A colony? Did she understand his intent correctly? That was too much of a coincidence for it to be happenstance. If she ever had any underlying doubts in the Goddess¡¯ trial, they were now long gone.

    She was gratified to have another sister-in-arms¡ªer, brother-in-arms¡ªto share her predicament, yet she felt guilty at the thought. How could she be pleased that another was also suffering? Was it right for her to be taking such solace in the star-sent¡¯s suffering? Should she be feeling levity in the face of his burdens, even if they mirrored her own?

    Then again, would he also be relieved if he knew another was experiencing the same struggles? If nothing else, confirming that she was not as alone in her struggles would be a relief for her. Could it be as great a salve for him?.

    Well, she already paved the path, now she must walk it.

    <i>*¡°Then we are more similar than I thought. We are trying to pick up the pieces of what is left, uncertain of what remains in our time ahead as our past weighs heavily behind us.¡±*</i>

    A tinge of worry pestered the back of her mind, would he actually find comfort in their shared situation? Or would it only demoralize him more? An immediate pang of regret splashed over her, freezing her in place. Oh Gods, was she going to ruin all the progress she made? Her talons tapped against each other subconsciously.

    ¡°What do you mean we¡¯re similar?¡±

    The star-sent appeared genuinely interested in her statement, questioning eyes piercing into her. Was he not upset? That was good, maybe she could continue the topic at hand, hopefully bridging the gap between them.

    Flushing out the lingering trepidation, she gestured at the outsider. <i>*¡°W-we are in the same position, you and I. Two colonists deserted on a land far away from home, struggling to claw our way through an unknown future. We are survivors, star-sent.¡±* </i>

    She received an incredulous look from Harrison, his wary expression remaining for a long  moment, threatening to dig up the uncertainty she just put down. She awaited his response with bated breath, thoughts of inadequacy swirling through her mind as she considered all the ways she could have phrased it better, if she should have said it at all, and if it was wise to appear so certain of that which she could only assume.

    The disbelieving tint to his eyes softened, a somewhat bitter and reluctant one taking its place. ¡°So you¡¯re going through it too, huh? Never really considered it.¡± His fingers ran through his head fur again, this time staying and holding the bunches of hair in place as his gaze wandered back to the fire, the rest of his thoughts kept to himself.

    The paladin really had been ¡®going through it¡¯ as the star-sent said. Her strength and fortitude got her this far, but the nagging stress of her situation had been growing in severity each day. As much as Harrison had his troubles and misfortunes, so too did she. Separation, uncertainty, and failure poked and needled at her every step of the way, but faith kept her protected.

    Without the courage bestowed by the Land God and the guiding hand of the Sky Goddess, she would have given into the pressure long ago, which was all the more reason to pursue her trial. She had to solidify the space between her and the star-sent. She was sure he no longer feared her, so all that needed to be done was to convince him that all she wanted was cooperation. What better way to persuade him than offering her companionship during mutual hardship?

    <i>*¡°There is much difficulty in surviving these unforgiving lands alone, star-sent. I will admit my weakness in that. I too find myself worrying about my future, knowing I am without another in my journey, but it does not have to stay that way for either of us. Support is hard to come by in unsettled lands such as these, yet I offer you mine freely.¡±* </i>She bowed her head respectfully towards the star-sent. Her frills shook ever so lightly in anticipation of his response.

    Harrison made several attempts to respond, cutting himself off before any words could be spoken¡ªstruggling silently to accept her claims. His body shared a variety of physical expressions all the while; a slight upward curve of the lips here, a clenched fist there, and other diverse motions she could only hope to emulate.

    The nervous anticipation was getting to her. Gods, please say yes. She could not bear the thought of fumbling the situation now. Not after making so much progress. Not after learning what she had been doing wrong.

    And yet, her salvation did not come.

    With a mumbled apology mixed with gratitude for her assistance, he left, retreating back behind the metal walls of his castle. All she could do was let her two arms drop when they reached out for him, grabbing nothing but air and the remains of what almost was, while the remaining limbs clutched the flora plate that had been holding the meal they had shared. The fire crackled in the background, but she only repeated what he had said, knowing that somewhere, somehow, he had joined her in this desolate forest. He was oh so alone, just like her, and he needed someone there.

    She stoked the fire, eyeing the last of the leaves in which he ate from, smiling to herself bitterly at the tiny victory she had achieved. Maybe, just maybe, the night wasn¡¯t a failure.

    Maybe she could be that someone.

 Chapter 8

    Harrison knew the makeshift repairs couldn¡¯t continue as they were. Yet, to spite the inanimate objects, he persevered with what he had¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t a whole lot. Usually, a system¡¯s function could be at least partially restored with a jury-rigged fix, but today marked the first complete failure.

    A gnawing headache caved into his skull while he braced his arms on a dining room bench. The dehumidifier was separated haphazardly into its components on the table, each piece gathered into piles of similar purpose. If he had even the smallest toolkit, something could have been done, but there was only so much a man could do with a crowbar and his bare hands.

    Man, did it frustrate him to no end. Of course humid air would be annoying, however, that would only be another minor irritation in the many grievances he had with the barracks. The real distress came from his hands. He glared daggers into them the same way he would a piece of furniture he had just stubbed his toe on. No matter how hard the calloused digits fumbled with the pieces, they failed time and time again. After hours of finger-breaking work, he was forced to reluctantly admit their failure to replace conventional equipment.

    He swiftly culled his knee-jerk reaction to throw a fist at the table; the display of irritation would only break the components further. Instead, he resigned to closing his eyes and letting out an exasperated sigh. Getting upset would set him back even more.

    Why hadn¡¯t he just gone and left for the workshop module instead of the barracks? Now he had to suffer in an unfixable coffin, without proper tools, stuck waiting for a particularly attached alien to leave. If only said alien would actually leave him well enough alone, but no, she glued herself right against the front-fucking-door. Of course, yesterday he had to make it worse by letting her get even closer than she already was.

    Companionship? Support? What a fuckin¡¯ shit-show. He got way too damn comfortable with the ounce of humanity that the primitive shared. Yeah, the food was a fine gesture, and the venting opportunity was downright cathartic, but it would¡¯ve been more liberating to see anything actually change from the interaction¡ªeven more so if she took the hint and left.

    Evidently, his emotions flew too close to the sun, and they promptly collapsed in on themselves in a ball of fire after days of keeping them all suppressed in the abscesses of his mind. What was he thinking? The whole exchange ended up being an invitation for her to keep trying to pester him.

    God, he even let her touch him. The alien that most certainly killed O¡¯hara ¡­ comforted him. With a *<i>tail</i>* of all things! His face scrunched up in a mix of regret and discomfort at the ridiculous events. He despised that he couldn¡¯t even find it in himself to hate the creature. She had been nothing but benevolent, yet he couldn¡¯t bring himself to trust something so departed from a human¡ªyet so¡­ *<i>similar</i>*.

    Well, if any benefit was to be gleaned from the exchange, it would be that he now at least knew her background and reasoning¡ªeven if there were still plenty of unknowns. Religious trials, sole survivor of a colony, and being a paladin¡­ He wasn¡¯t going to get rid of the giant easily, was he? Between the pious fervor and the unfortunate situation she was in, he had no doubts as to why she stuck around. Still, it was a step forward¡ªknowing he didn¡¯t need to fear her, despite the frustrating way she had cornered him.

    He wiped a palm down his face, relaxing the built up tension within the muscles. Why did it have to be so much damn work to get anything done? He didn¡¯t want to ruminate over it anymore; there was enough on his plate as is.

    It was time to get going and progress his goals¡ªhis recent failure with makeshift solutions told him that much. There were tools, fabricators, and blueprints to fabricate nearly everything he could need at the workshop.

    He would have gone sooner¡ªoh so much sooner¡ªif it weren''t for a few large roadblocks in the way. His ire landed on the airlock entrance. Some part of him wanted to glare in the direction of the primitive, but yet again, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to feel any more anger beyond his frustration, landing elsewhere; namely, the broken locking mechanism that still attempted to connect with its counterpart, despite the utensil blocking the way. Yeah, some professional repairs were an order.

    Assuming the alien wouldn¡¯t step in to prevent an excursion, he could finally venture forth towards the other modules. Of course, preparing for the trip would be even more work, given the various logistical problems and planning required. At this point he just had to take the workloads on the chin. Not like he had anyone else to do it for him.

    He got up from the bench, ideas and solutions already swarming in his head.

    \- - - - -

    Each standing issue in the barracks was noted down, everything from the poorly duct taped pipes to the frayed kitchen wires. Over the course of the inspection, he accrued several pages of notes listing necessary replacements, required tools, and theoretical improvements for the module.

    Some part of him was happy he previously suffered through the assorted fixes. They''d given him a lot of insight into the functional parts of the gray brick he called home. It went a long way to minimize the effort needed to inspect each machine. Now, all that was left to do was deal with the logistics of actually bringing back the parts; the crude harness he had was only meant to carry tools and some small items.

    He went back to the airlock door where he left the backpack last. The equipment would need some serious improvements if it was going to bring anything back. Well, he¡¯d have to make the changes at the workshop¡ªgiven that he lacked the resources here¡ªbut it would be best to gather as good an understanding as he could ahead of time.

    Picking it up by its plant-fiber straps, he tested the weight, lifting it up and down several times. The pack felt flimsy with its paltry mass, signs of wear already showing through bruised leafs and torn filaments. Packed material intended for a back padding was already withering away. The once red foliage was now a strange pink hue.

    Just as he slid his arms into the straps to test if it could even hold the tools attached to its sides, the datapad in his cargo pants buzzed, alongside a warning from Sebas.

    [Unknown lifeform at front entrance]

    The alert was common enough to ignore usually. Sometime soon, he¡¯d have to tell the sensor to recognize the giant, so it wouldn¡¯t keep bugging him every time she moved around the front door. Although, the time of day was off. It wasn¡¯t even sunset, so what was she doing at the front door? Was she going to drop off more food?

    A quick check of the front camera proved that assumption to be false. In fact, he couldn¡¯t even spot the alien, as she wasn¡¯t by the airlock like the alert stated. The leafy futon she often sat on was unoccupied, only an indent of where her massive legs and tail rested. Beside it lay a leaf with a curiously unfinished meal, only one large bite taken out of a cooked red pepper-shaped vegetable. The only real thing out of place was that the constant fire she usually had stoked had fully died out, not a single ember sharing its glow.

    The data pad still sent warnings of an unknown lifeform, despite the obvious lack of anything on the cameras. Another broken piece of equipment, huh? Dammit. He mentally added it to his ¡®fix later¡¯ list. Hopefully, it was just being overly sensitive to the alien environment, rather than outright needing a replacement. It would be a headache and a half to replace an integrated sensor and camera like that.

    He should probably check it out and see if the sensor was actually picking up some small unseen creature, or if it was actually dysfunctional.

    With a grunt, he pushed through the door, taking a moment to gauge the surroundings. Nothing really stood out to him besides the dancing grass that ebbed and flowed in the breeze. Bright sunlight reflected off the tips, giving way to a mesmerizing shimmer.

    Another glance around the area showed no more information than he already knew. The giant was still nowhere to be seen, nor were there any small animals, so he took a few cautious steps outside to garner a better view of the area. Maybe she was just out gathering wood?

    After a few moments looking around, another breeze came by, blinding him with his own hair spilling over his eyes. Just as his hands moved to pull obstruction back, a disgusting scent invaded his senses. The stench of acidic bile and rot permeated his nostrils, forcing out a gag.

    His head turned in every direction around the hill to determine what could possibly be excreting such a horrid miasma. With no sensible origin in sight, he stepped back, his olfactory advocating for returning to the module and abandoning the investigation altogether.

    He spotted it as he turned back towards the module. A beast sat atop the airlock¡¯s outcropping, perched like a gargoyle and poised to strike. It looked to have the body shape of a spider with the exterior of a crab. Its chitinous carapace held a grungy, orange hue.

    He felt his throat tense, primal horror passing through his spine. An open maw took up the entirety of the head, no eyes present. Thick, sharp teeth were packed into every inch of real estate within the jaws. Yellow liquid dripped from the opening, its viscous nature causing a hanging thread of fluid to ooze towards the ground.

    Its gaping maw was held directly above the doorway, held completely still, waiting for something¡ªhim most likely. Its eerie stillness incited a cold shiver throughout his body.

    What the fuck is that? What the *<i>actual fuck</i>* was he looking at right now? His muscles stopped his stride mid-step, nearly causing him to stumble into its awaiting maw.

    He stepped back a gracious amount of steps, clearing as much distance as he possibly could. Movement atop the barracks caught his ire. Four nasty crab-like appendages slid over the flat roofing of the module, their lanceolate ends stabbing into the gray wall. Two hideous sets of mangled teeth peeked over the edge, increasing the immediate threat to three beasts.

    Dread poured throughout his body. All the energy stored in his arms had drained off into nothingness. His mind immediately told him to seek shelter and run away, but his only bastion of hope was cut off completely. What could he do? No way was he prepared to fight those things. With their monstrous size and gaping chops, he felt woefully inadequate with only a crowbar on hand.

    The foremost creature slowly extended its forelimbs to touch the ground, managing its weight whilst it crawled down the airlock towards the ground. The monster easily stood taller than his belt. He had to run. He had to get out of there now¡ªstaying would certainly lead to an early grave.

    It slowly let one foot forward, lightly pressing into the ground. It was akin to a lion stalking its prey¡ªtense and ready to pounce. Harrison¡¯s legs stuck to the dirt beneath him, refusing to budge. The crab-like creature silently moved forward steadily, closing the distance. Mucus-like secretions falling onto the grass beneath the predator. Of all the times to freeze up, why did it have to be now?This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    God damn it. Move Harrison, move!

    The crab-spider lunged. This was it. All the struggling and repairing was for nothing. No achieved aspirations, nor any real success found from his efforts. As much as the colony expedition failed him time and time again, he still held onto that little bit of hope for the shitty situation to become an adventure of a lifetime. For there to be meaning in his futile struggle to exist.

    Unfortunately, there was to be no future, his life ended here because instead of fight or flight, his pathetic response system chose freeze. At least his existence ended on an alien planet, as shitty as it wa¡ª

    A brief flash of orange impacted the leaping creature¡¯s side, accompanied by a deafening roar that cut through the silent atmosphere.

    Within an instant, only the gray cube lay in front of him. Another monstrous orange being had pinned the crab-spider onto its back, two arms keeping the beast¡¯s talons at bay. The alien! A wave of relief loosened his tense muscles. A pair of sharp claws from the paladin dug into the exposed underside, allowing a sickly dark green goop to leak from it. The beast¡¯s shrill screech bellowed out as its limp legs succumbed to gravity and fell down towards the ground.

    The giant threw off the remaining green residue with a flick of her wrists. She stood up straight, her towering form making the crab-spider look like a tiny bug in comparison. A slight turn of her head allowed their gazes to meet.

    A sudden, frantic tone of voice startled him. <i>*¡°Star-sent, a-are you hurt? Do you need aid? I¡¯m so sorry I neglected my duties, it will never happen ag¡ª¡±* </i>

    Another crab-spider hurled itself into her back, attaching itself with spear-like feet and threatened to knock her over. Her top pair of arms reached up, grabbing the forelegs of the beast, yanking them out of her flesh.

    With an animalistic cry, she threw the beast off, using the centrifugal force to slam its flailing body into the ground in front of her. A satisfying crunch reverberated through the air as viscous ichor exploded from the shell.

    Throwing the heavily armored predator didn¡¯t come without cost, as the giant found herself stumbling forward, reeling at the change in mass. Again, without warning, another charging crab-spider flew through the air, targeting her side.

    It took only a few split moments for her to topple over, her massive form hitting the ground with enough force to shake the earth beneath him. Her head was in an unfortunate position to where it took a large portion of the impact, frills atop her head pressed in on themselves under the pressure. The monster atop her quickly shook off the confusion from the fall and let out a screech, returning its attention to the fallen giant. She wasn¡¯t moving. The crab-spider winded another attack, creating a long gash along a chink in her gauntlets. <i>*She still wasn¡¯t moving.*</i>

    His legs reacted before his mind could, carrying him towards the beast. Cold from the metal crowbar sapped the heat from his sweaty palms. What was he doing? Long strides slashed the distance as he held the blunt instrument high above his head. It was far too late to back down. He had to go through with it, so he let out a primal yell as he uncoiled the muscles in his arms. All his might was packed into the heavy blow, forcing the iron bar down onto the armored exoskeleton with his own battlecry, creating a gratifying crack.

    A shrill screech came in response to his attack, but its flailing limbs failed to react in time¡ªhe had already struck again, furthering the fracture. The carapace crumbled with another strike ¡­ and another ¡­ and another. After each hit, its squealing grew more and more faint as viscous blood jetted from the opening. Yet, he kept going, whacking the chitinous pulp over and over and over again until only the sickening wet thwacks of the crowbar and his own labored breaths muddled the silent midday air for Lord knows how long.

    His chest heaved from the physical exertion, arms shaking under the quick burst of adrenaline. He took a step back, resting his palms on his knees, weakly raising his head to observe the carnage. Gore of a vicious predator spread across a motionless alien¡ªone he just senselessly risked his life for in the heat of the moment.

    What was he thinking? His feet failed to move under the threat of imminent death, yet they bolted across the ground for some alien that wouldn¡¯t leave him the fuck alone. Why? What part of him felt risking his life was a better reason to move than saving his own? He bit his cheek in contemplation, figuring he owed her at least that for ensuring he wasn¡¯t dead¡­ He fell back onto his rear, adrenaline fueled muscles failing to hold his weight.

    The crowbar rested an arm¡¯s length away, the carnage-covered side pushed further away. Freeman would have been proud. Said carnage also unfortunately covered his shirt and arms¡­ Disgusting. The same thing could be said for the giant on the ground in front of him, her entire torso and skull region dripping in the green stuff.

    Her body still lay motionless. Was ¡­ was he going to have to dispose of a body today? Staring at the once lively alien, he felt a melancholic mood wash over his psyche. Was she really ¡­ dead? Just like that? Fuck. It wasn¡¯t like he hated her, he just wanted her out of the way, not six feet under.

    A twitch in the mass of orange and green stole his attention. His energy was already spent, but he still weakly grabbed the blunt weapon once more. The paladin¡¯s head sluggishly turned to him.

    <i>*¡°I am glad¡ªsafe, st¡ªsent.¡±*</i> Relief poured into every broken word of the simple sentence. Her eyelids closed slowly, but their focus was kept on him the entire time.

    What was that? Was she still alive? He crawled over to her limp body, scanning over the injuries she sustained. There was a good bit of what he assumed to be her blood, alongside a torrent of the beast¡¯s fluids.

    Her armored chest rose and fell in deep, slow motions. Oh thank God, at least she was breathing. Tracing lines of blood back to their injuries, he noticed a few large lacerations, the one along her arm looking particularly nasty. How long could she stay breathing like this?

    Could he leave her like that? Just earlier that morning he was wishing she¡¯d just leave him be. She only ever got in the way ¡­ right?

    She gave him food, offered a campfire to cook, and just saved his ass from certain death. Was he really going to let her just bleed out? Making sure she wasn¡¯t dead would be the least he could do to repay her efforts. What could he do to treat her?

    An automated nurse would save his ass right now, unfortunately, he was nowhere near an orbital hospital. No, he¡¯d have to tread new waters and figure it out himself. He did learn <i>*some* </i>medical knowledge in the colonist training, but really it boiled down to infections, tourniquets and CPR. Hopefully the med bay would have some instructions on proper treatment.

    Well, first things first, the large gash on her arm was still bleeding and needed immediate attention. With no time to lose, he yanked the belt access to his waist off and tied it above the wound, hopefully preventing any further loss of blood.

    Next, to get her up to the med bay, he¡¯d have to find a way to transport her. The first step in that process would be removing the bleeding carcass of the spider-crab so he could at least attempt to move the giant.

    He did his best to lug the beast off of her by pushing his shoulder into it, the rigid carapace bruising him at the point of contact. Gallons of bug-juice and gore spilled across the ground after it flipped onto the ground¡ªsome of it splashing onto his arms. He could shower later, medical aid comes now.

    The new issue was her armor¡ªshe already looked heavy without it. Each piece seemed to be fashioned with tough rope connecting them underneath the chitinous plates. Fortunately, they were tied up rather loosely. It looked like they were put on in a rush. He quickly removed all the available pieces of protective coating.

    He figured that was all the weight he could remove, leaving only the coarse leather garments. Now was the difficult part of the operation. First, he needed to get a good grip to pull her. His survival training mentioned the best way was to wrap arms underneath a body¡¯s armpits and clasp them together around the chest, but considering how wide her torso was, that wasn¡¯t happening.

    One failed attempt at dragging her by the arms later, and he came up with a better idea. He quickly ran in and out of the cargo bay. A tarp-like blanket was set beside her body, spider-crab blood soaking into its fabric immediately.

    That could be dealt with later. For now, he had to get her onto the blanket. He grabbed her further set of arms and pulled towards himself, straining his thighs and biceps to their maximum. He let gravity finish flipping her over once the torso was lifted halfway. Damn she was heavy. All those muscles clearly added up. He really wasn¡¯t looking forward to having to drag her after his first interaction with her weight.

    Repeating the process once more, the paladin was positioned squarely onto the fabric. No harness or straps were used, but he figured the static friction for the blanket would be enough to keep her in place¡ªthe journey was entirely flat after all.

    Two corners of the blanket formed the grip¡ªits slick, blood-stained texture making it harder to clutch. With great effort he pushed off the ground, landing himself one step closer to his goal.

    \- - - - -

    Harrison fell backwards onto the ground, pitifully trying to regain his lost stamina and catch his breath. ¡°Fuck me,¡± he panted, the words slipping subconsciously from his mouth.

    Laying on the cold ground helped to relax his back, cooling down the warm sweat that permeated throughout the entirety of his shirt. His legs still quivered, even after they completed their job. The struggling limbs felt like wet noodles: completely limp and unresponsive. Not to mention his searing back¡ªdragging her was certainly going to have some repercussions on his health in the future.

    The med bay he laid in wasn¡¯t exactly an uncommon sight¡ªthe engineer frequently visited to mend injuries garnered from repairs¡ªbut he never really used it beyond grabbing bits of medicine. Painkillers here, bandages there, and a bandaid for good luck. That sort of thing. It was a compact room, only about three bed lengths long and just as wide.

    Two beds sat on the opposite wall of the door, cloth dividers and all kinds of medical equipment surrounding them. His new favorite instrument was the mechanical bed assistant; the glorious electric machine just saved his ass from having to figure out the logistics of heaving a massive alien atop the hospital bed.

    A few machines¡ªincluding the mobile scanner and stasis pod¡ªstood cramped together on the adjacent wall, cabinets filled with other equipment stationed above them. Other similar storage containers and devices were stowed further along the wall. Some boxes of supplies were already haphazardly opened, medical equipment laying on the floor around them as evidence of his previous excursions there.

    He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the floor; before it would have been uncomfortable, but now felt like laying on a cloud after the excruciating process of dragging a giant all the way up here. On the bright side, he at least found a purpose for the industrial elevator. Without it, there would have been no reasonable way to drag a couple hundred kilogram alien to the second floor.

    Unfortunately, dragging her through the cargo lift caused the blanket to get caught, effectively rendering the makeshift stretcher useless. He was running on autopilot by that point, so he didn¡¯t even bother rolling her onto another sheet of fabric. At least the smooth upstairs floor let him drag her by the arms without much friction.

    It appeared to him now that dragging her unconscious body on the ground was a bit inconsiderate, but at the time he was much too tired to even attempt to hoist her weight over another blanket, his hunched back could barely even support his arms dragging her after all. Plus, it didn¡¯t seem to exacerbate her injuries any more than they already were. She didn¡¯t need to know how he got her up there anyways.

    Right, he dragged her up here for a reason. He got up to his feet, stabilizing himself on the counter, trying his hardest to ignore the burning sensation in his calves that accompanied the action.

    The oversized alien comically dwarfed the bed, her long legs sticking far over the edge. With her laying on her stomach, all of the nasty injuries were bare to see through the torn leather shirt. A pang of guilt struck him. Maybe he should have seen to her wounds first before taking a rest on the ground.

    ¡°Alright, let''s see the damage,¡± he mumbled to no one but himself. Through the many holes in her shirt, he could see that the armor did in fact help to negate some damage. A lot of the injuries on her back were only black bruises, but the places without armor received several cuts. Those unfortunate areas did have some bloody cuts, but none that looked life threatening.

    Not trusting his own judgment, he pulled the nearby scanner over and took out the hand-held sensor. The machine was pretty damn self-explanatory in function. Take out the device, hover over damaged areas, and it produces a report. Best part of the program was that it told him exactly how to properly treat the wounds.

    After waving the instrument over every visible wound, he immediately received a summary. The report gave some reasonable info and instructions on how to treat the wound, so it looked like it functioned properly, despite the alien anatomy. No external or internal bleeding, no tendon damage, and seemingly no predicted long term-effects besides scars. From the looks of the treatment guide, a lot of bandages and disinfectant were needed.

    He¡¯d need to remove the tattered shirt to get any work done. The torn thing was absolutely ruined, yet it still got in the way of applying gauze. He felt another stint of guilt, knowing that it was mostly because she took the hits defending him. Nothing in the barracks could quite replace what she had, given her physical form.

    At best, he could offer a poncho made from textiles lying around in the cargo bay. It wouldn¡¯t be much compared to an actual shirt, but when given the condition her¡¯s was in¡­ Yeah, he could easily cut a hole in some blanket or something comparable until she got an actual shirt.

    The leather blouse was removed easily enough and gave way to an array of white discolorations that crawled along the entire surface. God, there were a lot of scars. What the hell happened to her? He stood there for a moment, gazing over the various marks.

    He shook the thoughts away, refocusing his attention to the task at hand. He took note of the scan report and mentally tallied up how many cuts of gauze and how much disinfectant he was going to need, she was damn lucky the med bay was filled to the brim with resources.

 Chapter 9

    All of Harrison¡¯s muscles were regretting yesterday''s choices. The aching stretched through his calves, running up to his shoulders in threads of discomfort. His back felt like it had been compressed for the better part of the night, even if he didn¡¯t remember dozing off. Did it matter? He was so comfortable¡­ He nuzzled his face back into his forearms, hoping sleep would return him to where he wasn¡¯t sore. Wait, arms? Where was his pillow?

    He opened his eyes to a squint in a vain attempt to suffer the bright light. A wall of maroon greeted his confused gaze. What? Last he remembered, the bunkroom was a dull gray.

    His hand moved to shift the heavy blanket draped over his shoulders, freeing himself to get out of bed. The fabric gave way to his touch, his fingers meeting a squishy texture that gave and plied under his manipulations. It was so satisfying to play with, the gentle resistance pressing back into his palms, the subtle warmth intensifying as the material gave way. When did he get a blanket so¡­

    The observations finally clicked.

    That wasn¡¯t a blanket.

    He shot backwards, tipping the chair he had apparently been sleeping on and somehow managing to catch himself with his face. The bruised flesh hurt slightly less than his ego, but at least no one else saw that. He picked himself back up, stiff muscles protesting the entire motion. Where the hell was he? What room was¡ª

    Oh.

    The pistachio green of the med-bay equipment made the process of elimination easy. A knocked over stool lay on the ground alongside a maroon tail. He followed its trail, leading to a profoundly oversized alien sitting upright on the bed.

    A sudden shock of horror shot through his spine before the memories finally caught up. Right, he hauled her up here, patched her up, made the poncho, and then¡­

    <i>*¡°F-forgive me star-sent. I failed to pr¨Ctect you,¡±* </i> she stuttered, bowing her head towards him. Her talons clicked together timidly, gaze flicking away whenever it rested on him.

    What? It took a few moments before his memories began to flood in.

    His morality hit him like a truck. Images of the monster¡¯s gaping maw tormented his brief flashback, reality struggling for purchase in his sleep-addled wakefulness. He really came that close to death, Christ.

    Her anxious clicking of twenty talons broke through his reverie, forcing him to once again acknowledge that she was in the room. Well, she hadn¡¯t started laughing at him for faceplanting, so that was something. Just another thing he owed her for, really. Despite her claims of screwing it up, he was breathing, and had marginally less pain than the alternative.

    If her goal was to protect him, then she technically didn¡¯t fail; he had her actions to thank for his continued existence on this planet¡ªor any planet for that matter. Even if he did have to drag her in the end, it hardly mattered.

    ¡°No, I should thank you for saving my ass.¡± He kept his hand from passing through his hair, maintaining eye contact instead.

    <i>*¡°I was s¡ªosed to defend you, but I was inadequate. Instead, it was you who protected me. Now, you have treated my injuries, using your own r¡ªources in the process, all because of my failure.¡±* </i>She limply gestured to her bandages with three arms, regret causing her to linger on them before letting her arms fall lifelessly.

    His hand failed to be restrained, rubbing at the back of his neck as he finally looked away. ¡°Look¡­ You saved me, I repaid the favor, we¡¯re even. Now, how''re those bandages feeling?¡± He waved off her concerns.

    <i>*¡°If you i¡ªist,¡±*</i> She took a few moments to check herself, touching the gauze layering each laceration. <i>*¡°I can already feel my w¡ªnds healing, so I should be capable of movement. T-thank you for your treat¡ªnt, star-sent.¡±* </i>The short ceiling forced her to hunch when she stepped off the bed, frills nearly scraping the metal above.

    ¡°Here, I¡¯ll lead you out, but take this first.¡± He handed her the massive rolled-up poncho. ¡°Your shirt was torn up pretty badly.¡±

    It was quite literally just a cut flannel blanket. One side was lined with soft fleece, the other covered in tough flannel. It was a pretty damn good combination for keeping elements out, and comfort in.

    ¡°It''s supposed to be a replacement. You put your head through the hole here.¡± He pointed out the opening, stepping to the side so she could see him behind the unfolded poncho.

    The garment looked to fit quite well. It flowed down to her upper forearms and below her waist. The black and red criss-cross pattern shook side to side while she settled into it. He was quite proud of his work, even if its creation only took a few minutes and a pair of medical shears.

    She felt around inside the garment, her tail swaying as she pivoted to appreciate the article. <i>*¡°It is so soft. Why wo¡ªd you gift such high qual¡ªy robes to me?¡±*</i>

    High quality? Compared to the cloud mesh bedding, the fleece material of the blanket was nothing. Then again, she was a primitive, so it was most likely a luxury to her. He initially thought she was a hunter-gather, given her expertise in surviving off the land with practically no tools. Hell, even her armor looked to be primitive, made up of rope and crab-spider shell.

    Except, after learning about how she got here¡ªand seeing the small copper plates within the orange armor¡ªhe was forced to reconsider. Bronze age maybe? He would have to bring it up the next time that topic was approached.

    Regardless of her technological progress, he had to get going with his own. He was supposed to be walking over to the workshop by morning; he hadn¡¯t even collected what was needed for the trip yet. Now that he had time to think about yesterday''s events, he really wanted to speed up the automation process. Being stuck defenseless with animals like<i> *that* </i>made him uneasy. If he wanted to get anything done, there was no time for fucking around.

    ¡°Your shirt was ruined, plus I don¡¯t really need all thirty flannel blankets. Now, if you¡¯ll follow me, I¡¯ll show you out.¡± He tried to cover up the haste in his voice.

    Keyword: ¡®tried.¡¯

    <i>*¡°I-I do not deserve such fine luxuries. Th¡ªk you for the clothing star-sent, i-it will be cherished.¡±* </i>She held three arms horizontally to her chest, repeating the same gesture he saw two days ago. Was it supposed to be a sign of promise?

    He was getting antsy. Short strings of frustrations built up into clenched teeth, but a quick breath helped smooth it away for the moment. ¡°Glad to hear it. Are you okay to leave?¡±

    Thankfully, she didn¡¯t press further, simply accepting the gift for what it was and following him out of the med bay with a short ¡®Yes, I am.¡¯ She had to crouch under the door frame to accompany him, grabbing onto the sides to support the awkward maneuver.

    The paladin gazed around the room with wide eyes, her mouth slightly agape, taking in every detail of the interior. The frills atop her head vibrated ever so slightly. Amazement dripped from every aspect of her expression, as alien it was. He really hoped she wouldn¡¯t ask any questions; he didn¡¯t have the time to explain a concept as basic as electricity.

    Taloned feet scraped against the floor with every step, the irritating noise echoing throughout the short hallway, and reverberating inside his ear drums. It was always the little things that got on his nerves.

    He heard two clicks from behind him as they made their way down the stairs. Their gazes met when he turned around to acknowledge her hail.

    <i>*¡°Star-sent?¡±* </i>

    Goddammit. ¡°What?¡±

    She gazed around the first floor for a moment before returning to face him. <i>*¡°We are in your castle, correct? It is very diff¡ªnt from what I expected. How is this place kept so warm? And where are the torch¡ª?¡±*</i>

    He really didn¡¯t want to humor any more conversation, he was antsy enough as is. Hopefully, a quick response would entertain her. ¡°First, this isn¡¯t a castle. Second, you really wouldn¡¯t understand if I told you¡ª¡±

    <i>*¡°Is it el¡ªtricity?¡±*</i> She tilted her head to the side questioningly.

    Her words brought him to a dead stop. What did she just say? Now, hold the fuck on.

    He expressed his curiosity a bit louder than he wanted, giving her an accusing glare. ¡°...How the hell do you know what electricity is?¡±

    Her body recoiled, triangular ears folding back against her head. <i>*¡°T-the village elder m-mentioned it. Star-sent are said to be gifted with the ability to create light and move things with el¡ªricity. Is¡­ is that correct?¡±*</i>

    So star-sent wasn¡¯t just something that applied to only him? Would that mean that there were others? Humans? Other races? The red planet just kept unfolding new layers of mystery. Anomalies, aliens, and now other star-sent?

    Genuine curiosity replaced his stern gaze. ¡°What other star-sent?¡±

    <i>*¡°The elder did not m¡ªtion much, he said his own gr¡ªdmother once met them. She spoke of star-sent beings from beyond the far k¡ªgdoms that could do fantastical things with their power. That is the extent of the tale. F-forgive me for my lacking kn¡ªledge.¡±*</i>

    From beyond the far kingdoms? Multiple? This went much further than he expected, just who the hell were these other star-sent? There was quite literally an entire world of mysteries. All of it was veiled by distance and an alien environment. None of it was within reach until he progressed his technological standing¡ªtransportation, fortification, and automation. All the more reason to get his ass in gearination.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it. Thanks for telling me. Could you ¡­ uhm.¡± He didn¡¯t quite know how to politely ask her to leave. So, he motioned for her to follow him to the airlock, internally cringing at the kitchen knife holding the door open.

    She moved past him¡ªtaking the hint¡ªand hunched under the airlock door frame. <i>*¡°I can sense your haste, star-sent. Please forgive my intrusion. May the Sky Goddess bless the und¡ªtaking before you.¡±* </i>With her final blessing swimming through his mind, she exited through the door¡ªstill stuck open from yesterday¡¯s rush.

    His mind swam with questions, ideas, and worries. There was so much to unpack, but that would have to come later. He had to make up for lost time and prepare for the trip ahead.

    \- - - - - - - - - -

    Sleeping bag? Check. Extra pair of clothes? Check. Survival gear? Check. Nutrient paste? Check¡­ unfortunately. Primitive tools? Check. Storage harness? Check. Basic resources? Check. Location? Good question, Harrison. The workshop was only 6 and a half kilometers north¡ªa paltry distance compared to the cargo bay. Given the time it would take to design and produce the items he wanted, he packed enough for multiple days.

    The sun was already well past its zenith by now, by his clock¡¯s judgment. He should make it there before nightfall, so long as there were no complications.

    His arms pulled up the straps of the makeshift backpack, he prayed the bands wouldn¡¯t snap under the added weight. Without it, he¡¯d have to either suffer carrying the equipment with his two arms, or have nothing. He wasn¡¯t sure what option would be worse.

    Thankfully, the fibers held on steadfast underneath the bulky cargo. It was a pretty ergonomic setup overall; the sleeping bag rested behind his neck, softly pressing against him and balancing out the weight of materials that encumbered his chest. Just a few miscellaneous straps needed to be tightened and he was finally ready to go.

    When he turned to the airlock, a blurred flying creature flew past the open door. Memories of the previous day flooded back into him. There were actual monsters out there. He was kept inside the barracks, sheltered from the horrors until yesterday. The walls of his prison may have locked him away, but they also protected him.

    It was a wake-up call, one that told him to be afraid of the world outside. He hardly knew anything beyond the confines of his impromptu cage, and without technology, he was nearly helpless to fight back. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Apprehension clawed his legs, anchoring them to the ground. Would he really risk going outside?

    The sound of flesh smacking across his cheek broke the spiraling doubt within him, his palms stinging.

    What the hell was he going to do instead? Sit in the barracks until he starved to death? He already spent way too much time cooped in the gray module. If he learned anything from the repairs, it was that nothing was going to get done until he intervened. This wasn¡¯t like the factories or design teams where he had someone else to use as a safety net for anything he couldn¡¯t do.

    His future was reliant on his own actions.

    He consulted the module¡¯s sensors¡ªmaking sure to check all of the cameras this time¡ªand found there to be nothing else besides the paladin waiting outside. Her large, sharp claws worked to shape pieces of spider-crab carapace into different sized plates, each placed neatly into distinct piles based on their dimensions.

    A large strip of rubberwood bark covered her torso, blotches of green gore splattered atop its coarse exterior. Evidently, it worked quite well to prevent stains as the visible bandages underneath only soaked up her contrasting red blood. The campfire beside her was lined with charred and burnt viscera. She certainly got to work processing those corpses.

    Several long sticks as tall as him laid on the ground, their tips adorned with sharp, lanceolate crab legs. Although crudely tied to the shaft, they were still massive and razor-sharp with their organic points.

    Her efforts gave him an inkling of hope. Despite her near-death experience, she still moved on from it without fear. In fact, she was benefiting from it, clearly making good use of the components from once fearsome beasts.

    No more hiding from the outside. He had every reason to venture forth from his gray abode; fear of the unknown wouldn¡¯t stop his progress. His legs marched across the floor with newfound confidence, pushing him right through the doorway.

    \= = = = =

    Harvesting the beasts was all Shar¡¯khee could do to make up for her shameful blunder. The events replayed in her mind. Each wrong move. Every detail she neglected to act upon.

    Failure.

    The searing word passed through her mind, cutting through her thoughts. She failed in every sense of the word. Not only did she fail to protect him, but she selfishly sapped away his resources. Her lower arm tapped lightly at the shockingly fine mesh that wrapped around her torso and back.

    Her dressings didn¡¯t even itch like traditional molineria bandages. Goddess above, the same could be said about the loose-fitting garment. The star-sent certainly had fantastical resources at his disposal, she held no doubts about that. She could not help but feel undeserving of all that was given to her from both the Goddess and the star-sent, but was grateful nonetheless. She would be nothing without them.

    But none of that mattered. The real quandary was her inability to defend the star-sent. It rode atop her mind for a while, driving her up the ocean shelf.

    Never again.

    She could not fathom another failed trial. She would prepare herself to be the best she could. Each aspect of her shameful defeat was to be amended. Spears made with sharp claws, shields forged from resilient carapace, and armor reinforced after hours of methodical labor.

    The piece of beast shell in her hands was put aside, her other pair already in the midst of grabbing another chunk to chip away at.

    She was so focused on her work that she barely recognized the familiar small-statured being. The only noticeable change in the environment was the short clinks of glass that broke through the ambience of the crackling fire.

    The male in front of her was thoroughly layered in a multitude of items; large, clustered fabrics hung over his back, while small items of glassware and metals lined his chest. A small metal pole lined his sides, sheathed within a section of fabric along his pants. What an odd sword. Just what was the star-sent up to now?

    <i>*¡°Greetings, Star-sent. Why do you carry such encumb¡ªing attire?¡±* </i>She emphasized her question with a slight head tilt.

    He stood frozen in thought for a long while, scratching at the stubble of fur beneath his jaw, apparently considering a great many things.

    Finally, his gaze returned to her awaiting eyes. ¡°I need to leave for a few days to complete a few tasks.¡± A finger pointed behind himself, towards the treeline.

    Leaving where? Into the woods? After encountering the shelled beasts? She focused on the burning carcass beside the fire. It was much too dangerous for him to go alone. <b>**No**</b> harm can come to the star-sent. Never again would she fail herself nor the Goddess.

    <i>*¡°I will escort you there, allow me a moment to p¡ªpare,¡±*</i> she stated. A fire of conviction burned in her heart.

    She did not wait for his response, getting up and assembling her kit. She replaced the blood-stained bark covering with the soft ¡®poncho.¡¯ Nine spears were packed tightly into a sling on her back¡ªone held within her grip¡ªtwo round shields made of wood and carapace in her lower arms, and an extra layer of armor covered her exposed bandages.

    Thankfully, the star-sent did not move, absently observing her preparation instead. A hint of wonder crossed his face when he noticed the tapestry spread across the wall. Her frills flowed with bliss seeing him stare, fascinated with her work.

    Two clicks drew his attention from the artpiece. <i>*¡°I am r¡ªdy to go. Please, lead the way.¡±* </i>

    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡± His face only expressed a flat visage as he turned toward the northern treeline.

    She kept a short distance between them as they walked, dashing in and out of the brush, and often surprising the marching star-sent. The spacing she maintained was far enough so she might scout ahead, while also being close enough to have him in sight¡ªand more importantly, within reach.

    Never would she make that mistake again. The Goddess¡¯s chosen would be safe.

    The terrain became increasingly rocky as they progressed. The red canopy still dominated the land, but became notably sparse, favoring the trees with gray bark that seemed to populate the regions further away from the star-sent¡¯s castle. Forest animals chittered and squawked in the branches above, their calls grew more frantic as time passed.

    She did not notice it at first, but the ground beneath them had grown progressively dimmer, dark clouds suffocating the sun¡¯s warmth. Rays of light began seldomly peering between the leaves, only gleaming past the blockage for brief moments. Passing scents of petrichor wafted through each passing breeze.

    Worry swept through her spine. A storm was abound.

    Her legs rushed her towards the star-sent. He marched forward carelessly, ignoring the Goddess¡¯ warning. She clicked her tongue twice for his attention. <i>*¡°A rainst¡ªm will be upon us soon, we must seek shel¡ªr!¡±*</i>

    ¡°We¡¯re almost to the workshop, only a bit over a kilometer away.¡± He showed no signs of concern, hardly picking up his pace. Was he so confident in his ability to weather the elements? Was he blessed by the Goddess to sustain himself despite it?

    It did not matter how self-assured he was, she could not risk the possibility. There was imminent danger, and it was her duty to keep him from harm. <i>*¡°You must und¡ªstand we need to¡ª¡±* </i>A freezing drop of liquid hit the top of her snout.

    Oh no.

    Within mere seconds, the clouds themselves began hindering her task with its horrific dampness and icy-cold touch. She was lucky for her armor to deflect some of the bone-chilling water, but most still seeped into the ¡®poncho¡¯ atop her shoulders, slowly sapping what heat she enjoyed from it. Even that simple comfort lasted no time at all under the assault.

    Each step she took forward was rewarded with thousands of droplets crashing down without mercy. The forest resounded with the noise of millions of droplets hitting leaves with force. The cacophony drowned out her senses; It was impossible to hear her own footsteps¡ªnevermind any possible threats¡ªand the misting brought by the precipitation obscured her vision.

    Within the jarring orchestra and chaos of the storm, she heard a racket of clinking and shifting fabrics. Her chilling core led to a lethargic turn of her head, hardly in time to spot the star-sent barreling past her. He made great strides despite his small stature and encumbering equipment, deftly navigating beyond the haze and outside of her view.

    The fur atop his head was soaked in the downpour, matted down flatly against his skull. He shouted something as he overtook her, but it faded into the chaos. Still, he traveled in a singular direction. She adjusted course to follow him, now that he finally appeared to understand the severity of their situation.

    As much as she desired to do so, it was impossible to catch up. She tried and fought, but her body would not listen to her desperate demands. Her legs slowed in their response to her begging for expediency, her fingers stiffening and groaning in protest as she reached outward to grasp at his fading form beyond the mist. Breathing became a laborious task¡ªheavy and torturous¡ªyet she prevailed.

    Follow the star-sent. Follow her Trial.

    She would be rewarded, if only she did as she must. If only she succeeded in her divine task.

    She could not afford to fail the Goddess again.

    \= = = = = = = = = =

    Well, she wasn¡¯t lying about the storm. It took some getting used to the way her ¡­ *<i>speech*</i> cut in and out, but he got the message clear enough. In his opinion, ¡®torrential downpour¡¯ would be a more apt description¡ªa ¡®storm¡¯ wouldn¡¯t hurt to walk in, nor be this difficult to weather.

    The ground sucked and tugged at his feet with every footstep, threatening to pull off his boots as his legs wrestled for control in his hurried pace. Freezing water leaked over the barrier between his socks and the environment, soaking the material thoroughly once again. He started cursing under his breath as he recalled the sensation between his toes. As if cold, wet hair wasn¡¯t bad enough.

    It was a damn miserable hike ahead of him, even as he counted down the steps until there would be reasonable shelter. His breathing grew ragged through the fast jog, his legs straining from the rocky environment underfoot and the sharper rocks prodding his soles. If he wasn¡¯t careful with his steps, a rogue stone could easily trip him up. The dark clouds and occasional shadowed patches reduced visibility to the point where a lot of his trudging was sheer guesswork. Thankfully, he hadn¡¯t gotten a mouthful of mud yet, but that could change if he lost focus.

    Overbearing noise, piss-poor visibility, and tough terrain that was more interested in taking his shoes than being navigable. He¡¯d love to think of some snarky comment about the planet, but it was hard to collect his wit in light of the bitter cold and dimming illumination. If they didn¡¯t hurry, they would be left hypothermic, lost, and at the mercy of whatever didn¡¯t mind being a little wet as long as it could eat.

    That ¡®whatever¡¯ was probably stalking them now, biding its time as the weather wore them down and left them too weak to struggle. Too weak to resist. Too delicious to ignore¡­

    His breath hitched as anxiety reached his throat, but a slight stumble broke the spiral. Forward. Keep going. Shelter isn¡¯t far. The only other noise besides the deluge of rain was the paladin, breathing in bursts behind him, only slightly less regular than his own. Why was it so loud?

    Curiosity got the better of him, his eyes abandoning the task of guiding his steps to check on his begrudgingly accepted accompaniment.

    Her normal gait was replaced by jittery, frantic steps, each off-measure and stilted. He knew she could easily outpace him¡ªgiven the height imbalance¡ªbut slowly, the distance between them grew despite his caution. Her chest heaved underneath the armor, head lolling as her arms struggled to counterbalance the sway of movement. Gasps of air were forced through her gaping maw and a glazed gaze.

    Each lumbering step¡ªungraceful and sluggish¡ªdefied the expectation he had of her. She was ¡­ struggling? Why?

    She was far more athletic than him, as far as he could tell. Sure, he could probably outlast her, but her speed would catch him in seconds. The way she was running now was as if she was injured or drugged. Did she need help?

    He was torn between if he should slow down and risk losing what little daylight they had left, or just trusting her to follow him. The rain made staying another moment out here unbearable, but he couldn¡¯t just leave her behind, could he? He swallowed his fear as he made the decision, chastising the part of him that prioritized his four-armed escort over common sense. The rain pelted him as he slowed to a lighter jog, letting her stumbling form catch up¡ªthough done through great difficulty.

    She almost passed him once she closed the distance, her empty eyes fixed on where he would have been instead of where he was. The slow blink and stuttered turn of her head worried him.

    He pulled the side of her shield, grabbing her attention¡ªthe arm taking considerable force to budge. She didn¡¯t even notice his nudge until he repeated the action, finally registering his involvement with a short click. ¡°What¡¯s going on? Are you alright?¡±

    Her eyes were practically glazed over, hardly a shred of sentience behind them. Her voice came out in a slowed slur. <i>*¡±Th¡ªe is no need for conc¡ªrn, star-sent.¡±* </i>

    Bullshit, he had every right to be damn concerned. He wouldn''t be surprised if she keeled over where she stood, and he wasn¡¯t going to be long behind if his beleaguered condition was anything to go off of.

    ¡°I fuckin¡¯ doubt it.¡± He pointed an accusing finger at her. ¡°You look like the walking dead.¡±

    <i>*¡°I am well. We must conti¡ªe towards shelter im¡ªdiately.¡±* </i>Her leg lunged forward, failing to bear the weight of the step, her massive frame crashing into the mud. Liquid dirt exploded from the impact of her crumpling form, covering his legs thoroughly in its viscous embrace.

    She was, in fact, not well, clearly suffering from an ailment unknown to him. What the fuck was happening to her?

    His heart was gripped by creeping anxiety while paranoia wretched into the back of his skull. He was suddenly all too aware of the precarious situation they found themselves in. They couldn¡¯t stay here in the dark; they¡¯d make such easy targets. His vision scanned quickly through the trees, finding nothing but an empty forest that did nothing to quell his rampant unease.

    He reached down to tug at the fallen paladin. Stress poured into his hasty words. ¡°Come on, come on. Get the fuck up you big bastard. We can¡¯t stay here any longer.¡±

    Four large arms shook as they pushed her torso out of the mud. The sluggish process dragged on his overactive mind. Could she be any Goddamn slower?

    He started pulling on her arm immediately after she got to her feet, pulling her mud-covered body towards the workshop. She stumbled forward, having more in common with a walking corpse than the alien he spent days hiding from.

    His worn legs dragged him forward, paladin in tow via the chain between their hands. The world seemed to close in around him while he struggled. The howling wind picked up even louder, and darkness creeped in evermore, obscuring his peripheral vision further.

    ¡°Almost there, only a bit further,¡± he muttered. The rain¡¯s pattering continued, covering up much of the forest¡¯s noise. Yet, one sound broke the veil. A distant, beastrial screech pierced the air. He picked up his pace. A shiver crawled down his spine¡ªwhether from the frigid clothing, or sheer terror, he didn¡¯t know.

    Several more howls riddled the air all around him. They were still far off, but that hardly helped with the primal horror engulfing him. He broke out into a full sprint towards the module, the stumbling beast behind him barely keeping up with him pulling her arm.

    Close. He was so damn close.

    Every shadow and veil of mist seemed to growl at him, the sounds hovering in every direction of the caliginous woodland.

    He broke out of the tree-line and into a rocky valley. He managed to stop his momentum, preventing his fall over the downward hillside. His efforts didn¡¯t matter, inertia caught up with the massive paladin behind him, her bulk slamming into his back.

    His world turned upside down. Large arms grabbed around him before he tumbled into the ground. His stomach sunk further into himself, circular movement blurring his vision as the two of them rolled down the hill.

    The tight grasp around him hardly helped to prevent any blows, he still felt every bump and patch of mud on the unbidden ride.

    They were sprawled out on the ground before long. Bones ached from each blow of the fall. He scrambled out of her grasp, hands slipping in the wet mud.

    Get up. Get up. Get up.

    His legs powered through the vertigo, barely holding him stable. He spared a look back at the orange-clad paladin. She crawled her way off of the ground, doing no better than him.

    ¡°Get the fuck up!¡± he yelled, pulling at the sling on her back. He couldn¡¯t move her heavy form by any margin, but the force kicked her lethargic muscles into gear.

    A ripping sensation of anxiety forced his gaze to look back upon the hills. His neck hairs stood on end. Dozens of beasts of all sizes lined the head of the valley, posted up like gargoyles. Their eyeless glares pierced his every move.

    He subconsciously pushed the paladin forward into the doorway, never tearing his eyes from the threat.

    No thinking. Just get the fuck inside.

    The echoing slam of the door was his only relief.

 Chapter 10

    The door was shut, locked, and barricaded with a nearby piece of scrap metal for good measure. His panic fueled-sprint swept away his vigor, his legs still shaking. What little energy Harrison had left was whisked away with the fleeting spike of adrenaline.

    He rested his back against the metal wall, sliding down it with a shaky, drawn-out sigh. Raindrops pattered the metal roof of the airlock outside, creating a soothing white noise to ease the eerie silence otherwise.

    It was only supposed to be a six kilometer hike; how could a walk in the forest go wrong so fast? He pressed his forehead against his palm, hoping to ease some stress, exhaustion, or whatever else¡ªanything to slow his racing heartbeat.

    His lips let slip a shrill hiss in protest to the action. Evidently, his forehead was but another casualty from the fall, stinging with every small press against it. A slick texture greeted his prodding. Enveloping his fingers with a viscous paste.

    He inspected his hand, relieved to find no blood, only the filthy paste of mud caking his digits. The workshop better have a damn shower. Now that he thought about it, he wasn¡¯t exactly sure what the workshop had to offer besides fabricators and pre-stored materials.

    For all he knew, the workshop could just be the small hallway he found himself in. It was the only room he¡¯d seen so far, being perpendicular to the airlock entrance. There were only two doors on each end, each having some sort of engraving on them¡ªprobably the label for whatever rested behind them¡ªbut the lighting was too dim for him to read.

    The metal wall¡¯s cold aura lay hold to his wet hair while he rested his head. He didn¡¯t even mind it. He was spent, and his idle state gave him a much needed chance to catch his breath. For now, he needed to close his eyes for a damn moment.

    Of course, that moment of relaxation was denied. The ground beneath him shook, jolting the hard surface against his back. An audible groan echoed throughout the hallway that¡ªsurprisingly¡ªwasn¡¯t his.

    He scanned the room, widening his eyes to capture as much of the dim glow as he could. Only the red emergency lights offered him any vision. A balled-up form of flannel and chitinous shell differentiated itself from the stagnant floor with light side-to-side movements.

    Oh fuck, the alien!

    How could he have forgotten? The slick ground made standing up a difficult task; he was barely able to keep traction over the puddles of mud and rainwater that lined the entire hallway as he made his way over to her.

    ¡°What the hell is going on with you? Are you alright?¡± he shouted in his haste, stumbling while he tried to stay upright.

    No response came from the alien, and that worried him more than he would like to admit. He went to push his elbow into her, hopefully tearing her out of whatever state she was in.

    She was ice cold.

    Her frigid skin sapped the heat away from his arm, like reaching into a freezer. Oh shit. No matter how hard he looked up and down the rest of her curled form, he saw absolutely no movement beyond the faint shaky breaths that barely pushed ragged air through her tightly shut jaws.

    She was breathing, but clearly suffering from hypothermia. The shoe was on the other foot now.  He pushed down the lingering perturbation trying to pull panic along with it. He knew what to do. He was trained for this.

    <i>*Survival Basics, lesson sixty-three: ¡®Wet clothes act as a heat sink. In case of severe cold, remove damp garments immediately.¡¯*</i>

    First things first, clothes need to go.

    Her heavily armored limbs certainly made things difficult. Yet within no time, he was able to pull the sopping poncho off. He silently thanked younger Harrison¡ªwere it a sleeved shirt, its removal would be nigh impossible.

    Confident she wouldn¡¯t be getting any colder, his mind began the task of figuring out just how to warm her up.

    He had no wood for a fire, nor would the sprinkler system allow one. What could he do? Use his own body heat? No way, there had to be a better option... He scraped his memories for anything he could use.

    Right, his equipment! Acting quickly, he tore through his makeshift backpack, grabbing a few select items, and laying them wherever was dry. His over-preparation would certainly pay off now.

    Splashes from the puddles echoed throughout the walls, his soaked boots quickly bringing him back to the paladin. He dragged the towel over every visible speck of liquid¡ªmud included. What next?

    Apply warmth, right. The heat packs were splayed out on the floor beneath him, each only requiring minor steps to activate. Thankfully, his stiff fingers could manage. He tore off their individual protective casings, shook the packets, then applied them onto her core and frozen appendages. He made sure they were stuck on tight before pulling the heavy blanket out; he¡¯d need to move her around for this.

    His lips released a heavy breath. He was not looking forward to having to roll her over again¡ªthe last time nearly broke his damn back. She desperately needed to keep all of that heat in, so she¡¯d have to be tightly wrapped up.

    He gathered his strength for the upcoming task, starting it off by selecting a dry spot behind her for the operation, since a soggy covering would only serve to hinder his efforts.

    Sluggish movement caught his eye just as he got into position to move her, her long neck unfurling away from her chest, and turning to face him.

    <i>*¡°St¡ªsent. The. Warmth,¡±* </i>her voice was disjointed even further. Each syllable came out slowly and with great distortion. She seemed barely capable of¡­however she spoke to him. The hypothermia was clearly affecting her head in some way. He had to work quickly.

    ¡°Yeah, the warmth,¡± he echoed reassuringly, trying his best to give her a calming voice. ¡°They¡¯re heat packets. To be even warmer, I''m going to need you to get onto that blanket. Do you think you can move?¡± His arm extended in gesture toward the fabric behind her.

    She lethargically rotated her torso to focus on where he pointed. Her talons scraped the floor while she pushed off the ground towards the blankets. The heat packs held firmly to her skin, their soft orange glow outlining her movement in the dim red lighting.

    A loud whump accompanied her broad form collapsing onto the large comforter, the momentary strain of movement proving to take a lot out of her. He took each corner and wrapped it around her, making sure to keep it tight to reduce the amount of heat lost. By the end of the process, she was reduced to a bundle of fabric with only her snout peeking out from underneath the covers.

    She seemed to be warming up rather quickly. He could see her tail slowly swaying underneath the blanket, its motion causing tents in the fabric. Despite her newfound energy for movement, he noticed she was fast asleep. Her eyes were closed, her breaths coming in slow, deep pulls, while the cloth around her vibrated in response to the rumbling noise that came from her chest.

    A small smile stretched across his cheeks. He found it to be rather amusing; the once ¡®nightmare fuel¡¯ giant alien was now swaddled up comfortably in¡­ his blanket.

    Shit. Well, there went his sleeping mat¡­ He¡¯d already made his bed¡ªquite literally¡ªnow he had to lie in it; it¡¯d be impossible to unroll a sleeping, couple-hundred kilogram alien out of the wrapping.

    At this point, it didn¡¯t mean anything to him. He was¡­ *<i>accepting</i>* of sharing his resources, and she was beneficial to keep around anyways.

    He let his gaze rest on her slumbering form. She looked so peaceful in comparison to her expression only a few minutes ago. The tight hold of the blanket showed four arms wrapped around herself, a wide tail spiraling around her waist. Only the soft texture of her snout protruded from the wrapped sheets. The tip of her nose looked so cushiony, so pliable¡­

    His finger pressed lightly onto the soft texture of her exposed snout, struggling to suppress the word ¡®boop¡¯ from his internal monologue. Although the skin was not warm by any means, it was doing a lot better than the ice cold touch he felt earlier. The trickle of heat that radiated out of the blanket told him that her temperature was to be the least of his worries.

    He did what he could for her, and that was enough. He was tempted by the thought of rolling out his sleeping bag and dozing off himself, but the red emergency lights overhead reminded him of his task. He needed to set up the module first and foremost. Only then would he allow himself some rest.

    The dim crimson glow made understanding where the doors led difficult, but it was nothing a flashlight couldn¡¯t fix. The door to the right apparently went into the ¡®maintenance room,¡¯ while the left opened into the primary fabrication floor. The choice hardly mattered, all he needed was a way into the main systems to get them up and running. Any access panel would do.

    He decided on maintenance, concluding that if there was anything wrong that needed attention, there would be the best place to start. His boots tapped along the floor, forced to make a longer step around the slumbering paladin.

    The red lighting motif continued within the poorly lit room. The room itself only went out a dozen meters or so in front of him, while it stretched out for the length of the module to the left¡ªfifty meters or more by his estimate. Ominous, lifeless machines took position along each wall, the scarlet hue outlining their silhouettes. Nothing was wrong about the room per se, but the deafening silence, dim illumination, and dead equipment unsettled him on some primal level.

    A small white light along the wall opposite to him signified the access panel¡¯s location, a simple interface greeting the user with a generic message while it awaited input. He was met with the ¡®Micron Computing¡¯ logo upon selecting the software. Although, this time he noticed a new screen; evidently, it was required to load data from the local network.

    ¡­What local network? The simple module-to-module connection? Was it linked to the barracks?

    The interface finished its process before he could think about it for too long. He put that little mystery into the ¡®to-do later¡¯ box; there were more important things than connections on his mind right now. Said ¡®important thing¡¯ was getting the module into a functional state.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    He gleaned that no major damage was done to the workshop from the diagnostics, though the interior fabricators apparently had a few problems. That, and of course the flashing lights that reminded him of the lack of a connected fusion generator.

    Thanks, data readout, but he knew that. In fact, by his datapad¡¯s estimates, it was twenty kilometers away from being coupled to the module.

    Fabrication would take absolute ages with the pitiful solar and wind power output of the workshop. Any sense of excitement and anticipation he had about getting things done anytime soon were slashed, his expression falling into an enervated frown. His bruised forearms stung as they rested atop the interface, his drained limbs barely able to hold his slouching posture.

    Maybe it would be best to start the fabricators up tonight, and get a jump start on the shipload of things he needed to be printed. Hell, he¡¯d have to set up timers too for when each piece was completed, most likely waking him up every couple of hours.

    Losing sleep to make up for shitty equipment. It reminded him of his shitty job at the orbital factories. How ¡­ nostalgic. He let out a huff, pushing himself up to a proper posture.

    ¡°Best to get goin¡¯ now,¡± he grumbled.

    The wind turbines were deployed with a few swipes of the screen. He wouldn¡¯t even bother to set up the solar panels yet, given the raging storm outside, but he kept a mental note to do so when the conditions improved. Every bit of energy would save him hours.

    Another few interactions with the interface activated the lights, heating, and interestingly enough, the atmospheric water generator. Maybe he could turn whatever used the water into a makeshift shower? That was just another side job for later. Again, he¡¯d have to focus on what was in front of him, requiring him to enter the heart of the workshop.

    He glanced around the room, trying to make sense of the layout as he rubbed his hands against his arms to stave off the chill. Having neither the time, interest, nor obligation to be there before, he was at a bit of a loss to what was actually inside of the module.

    Bright flood lights above illuminated the expansive fabrication chamber. Rows of machines extended across its length, most appearing to be basic printers. Further back rested a mountain of crates, each holding raw crafting components. Materials wouldn¡¯t be a problem¡ªfor now¡ªbut the energy requirement would.

    The power output of the workshop at the moment was very small for the power hungry fabricators. By his data pad¡¯s estimates, he would only be able to run two simultaneously, even then he still needed to turn half the lights off.

    Sleep was already starting to fog his vision, and the printers needed to be started before he collapsed under exhaustion. His thumb swiped through the long list of parts he compiled into the datapad, selecting some of the more important pieces for repairs of the barracks.

    Wait. Why was the other module even on his mind? No way he¡¯d be able to haul even a fraction of the heavy components for repair. Actually, nevermind going back on foot in the first place, there was a horde of feral beasts just outside. Hell, they were probably clawing at the door while he stood still.

    He needed to defend himself. He needed <i>*firepower*</i>.

    The computers have pre-installed blueprints for nearly everything, he should be able to find something powerful. A blue loading screen splayed across his vision upon powering up the machine. He pulled out the rolling chair to sit atop its metal base, unconsciously hunching forward closer to the monitor. Now, what was available to print?

    Files/ CRFTR_fab_004/ Blueprints/ Defense/ Mil_tech/ Hand_held/ PPC/ Snub_Variants/ Ceres_Arms_Thrasher_MK4/ Sawed_Off_Version/

    The mouse clicked rapidly as he closed in on the object of his desire. A good minute was spent reveling in the blueprint¡¯s glory. No particle projectile cannon was overkill. Especially after his alarmingly close encounters with the armored beasts. The fabricator estimated an eight hour crafting time. Well damn, that wasn¡¯t too bad. He pushed off the ground with his legs, rolling the chair over to the machine. It fired up with a flick of its switch.

    He confirmed the build, already standing up to tend to the other fabricator.

    {Error}

    The bright red letters caused him to do a double take. Huh? What was the issue? It was stocked with resources, plugged in, and compatible with the .crftr blueprint file. He pressed the confirm button again.

    {Error}

    Fucking¡­ Damnit. Maybe another file then?

    {Error}

    Alright that''s enough. To the error log it is. The screen rolled past the wall of text that berated him, leading him to the repeating final message of the file.

    {Error: Exceeded complexity limit. Additional AI components required.}

    AI components? What? Somnolent legs dragged him towards the nearest access interface. He queried the blank workshop AI via the command prompt. His question was returned with a long text response.

    {AI thought processing is required aboard the module for conducting extensive fabrication steps during the process of printing components¡­}

    To summarize the convoluted text, the AI aboard didn¡¯t have enough thinking capacity to plan out the steps of printing the parts and putting them together. Theoretically, he could manually code and formulate each move of the internal systems to create the complex pieces, but that would take weeks of trial and error.

    So, he was stuck with whatever processing power the module had onboard. However, the capacity could be increased with the introduction of more AI components to the current module AI blackbox. Making said ¡®components¡¯ is also much too complex for the current AI. So unfortunately, printing more AI was off the table.

    Of course he couldn¡¯t just get to the damn point. There was always some catch with the shitty pioneer equipment. At this point, he was starting to think they were purposely fucking him over. It irked him, but there was hardly anything he could do about it now. Progress had to be made, no matter how much the colony overseers overlooked¡­ everything.

    So, he needed to gather the AIs together to make anything complex? Was that it? Well, for one, he knew there was Sebas¡¯s core back at the barracks. Could he assume each module to have its own AI? If that were true, then he¡¯d have to go around to each fallen piece of the ship, and muster the components to get access to the more complex items he needed.

    ¡®Oh nooooo Harrison, you can''t just get shit done in a normal manner, you gotta travel the damn world to make basic ass equipment,¡¯ he mocked in his head, scoffing. He returned his attention to the fabrication computer.

    At least he now knew what the issue was. Maybe he could filter out what was too complex with a simple script? All he¡¯d need was the current processing power and the required amount for each blueprint. He was no computer scientist by any means, but he <i>*was*</i> an automations expert, so he knew his way around plenty of code.

    Running the script, each file was immediately marked with a red ¡®X¡¯ mark or green check mark. Through the available defense blueprints, he found a large variety of primitive weapons. He would need a melee option, but given his unarmored state, he would be doing his damndest to keep his distance from close quarter combat¡ªparticularly considering the gnarly maws of the beasts.

    His ranged options were limited to: a basic crossbow, or a break-action kinetic shotgun.

    The choice was made easily, only four hours of printing needed for the gun and its shells. Good, plenty of time to get the other fabricator situated and catch a quick nap.

    His hand yanked on the small thumb drive connected to the computer, pulling it free with little effort. Only the simple process power checker was downloaded onto it. He reached his arms into the air with a yawn, feeling the satisfying stretch of sinew throughout his limbs. Time for the next job.

    The chair¡¯s wheels echoed within the expansive room, bumping across the occasional crumb of debris. His next fabrication wouldn¡¯t be nearly as interesting, just a large rucksack to replace his withering harness.

    With the installed script, he was given a much greater variety in options compared to the weapons. Not much thought was put into his choice. All he needed was something big enough to carry his equipment, and scarlet enough to blend in with the foliage. Both of which were fairly easy for the fabricator to produce.

    He wasn¡¯t too thrilled about having to trek back to the barracks¡ªif he even got the chance to return, that is.

    Hordes of beasts, raging storms, and heavy supplies all stood in his way. They were a matter of life and death, something he could hopefully wait out, and a logistical nightmare to top it all off. The weight of his situation pressed down on his shoulders as he mused how to handle each, but never really coming to a solid solution to the problems they posed. It all rested on him alone to solve them.

    He felt woefully unqualified for this.

    The cold metal of the fabricator housing pressed against his forehead as a short groan left his throat. It didn¡¯t matter, those were problems for tomorrow. He was dog tired, and now that his tasks were done, he wasn¡¯t planning on staying up any longer.

    He stripped off his muddied clothes, laid out his sleeping bag, and turned the lights off. The floor was going to be a bit uncomfortable, but it wasn¡¯t anything he wasn¡¯t used to. He got caught up sleeping overnight on the job plenty of times; the tedious processes often needed consistent tending, and that required his presence late into the night.

    Sleep caught up with him soon after, the short whirrs of the fabricators acting as white noise to soothe his slumber.

    He took comfort in the single mote of familiarity amongst the unusual.

    \= = = = =

    It was so ... warm. Every inch of her skin was embraced by the encompassing heat, soft fabric comforting her. The feeling was phenomenal. Shar¡¯khee did not wish to ever wake up from this dream.

    A loud clunk resounded from around her. Was it actually a dream?

    She stretched her legs out, only to find her attempt blocked by the velvety cloth. Every movement she made was counteracted by a tight cocoon-like hold. Was she trapped? Her eyes finally opened, worried at the nature of her condition.

    She was swaddled in a large blanket, its taut wrapping held her tight in a fetal position. The area was somewhat familiar, yet differently textured walls surrounded her. The star-sent¡¯s castle? No¡­ they left for¡­ a workshop, as he called it. This must be its interior.

    It was safe here, the ¡®workshop¡¯¡ªlike the castle¡ªwas just as impenetrable, given the fantastical amount of metal used in its construction. She was warm, comfortable, and safe. What more could she ask for?

    The tender touch of sleep nearly enveloped her, but another loud clunk shook her back to attention. Her gaze scanned for the disturbance, a consistent chattering noise directing her towards a pale star-sent. His legs quickly carried him across the floor, apparently requiring much haste.

    <i>*¡°Greeting, St¡ªsent. What is your hurry?¡±*</i>

    He looked distracted, but gave her a quick glance, acknowledging her query. ¡°H-heaters borked, ne¨Cneed to print replacement parts.¡± His arms came up to wrap around his chest. A second, quieter message was spoken under his breath with regret, ¡°Wish I still had a damn blanket.¡± His voice was easy to make out with his intent, yet she thought twice about responding to it; he clearly did not intend for her to hear it.

    Before she could even respond, he had already made it towards the opposite door, disappearing behind it.

    The heater? If something that heats up things is broken, then it would be cold, no? He certainly looked cold, yet she was so warm inside the blanket, especially with the glowing packets. Had he¡­ given up his warmth for her?

    The star-sent¡¯s benevolence knew no bounds. She could not help the joyful swaying of her tail that was constrained by the fabric. Her efforts to the Sky Goddess¡¯s trial were being rewarded.

    Yet, the star-sent still grew cold. How could she be celebrating when another test of her trial was given?

    She needed to find and assist him however she could. The first step would be getting mobile from the comforting blanket¡¯s embrace, as difficult a task it may be.

    The bottoms of her webbed feet applied pressure to the fabric, delicately unraveling the priceless cloth from around her legs. Her free limbs helped to get her upright, other limbs rewrapping the warm covers around her. She made sure to keep herself wrapped in the makeshift cloak, only letting her snout, legs, and tail stick out into the biting-cold air. Goddess, she could barely see through the impromptu hood, but she did not mind; the heat kept in by its presence was sublime.

    The ground echoed with rough taps of her talons on its metal landing. She repeated the same motion she¡¯d seen the star-sent complete to open the small door. Her vision was met with an encompassing darkness, only a small blue light illuminating a small table and chair. The latter of which held a shivering star-sent, faint clicking sounds echoing from the odd contraption underneath his hand.

    She made her way towards the freezing being, making sure to dodge each piece of misshapen metal on the ground. He now was standing before the tall monolithic tower, it shared a bright blue glow, illuminating the star-sent as well as the surrounding area.

    Her footsteps were very telegraphed, easily giving away her approach on purpose. Yet, he neglected to even bat an eye towards her. His arms tightly wrapped around his chest, unceasing trembles wracking his pale lips, more chattering escaping from them.

    She could not bear to see him freeze. There was no firewood, and no sunlight to provide for him. What could she do? She was given the means to have warmth because of him, why could she not return the favor? Then again, she did not know of his traditions. Would it be rude to give a gift back? What if he becomes appalled by her actions? Would he kick her out of the castle into the storm?

    No, the star-sent must not freeze because of her indecision. Maybe¡­ maybe she could thread the needle in between sharing warmth and not exactly giving the gift back.

    Two of her arms held onto the blanket whilst her other set reached forward and grabbed onto the shuddering star-sent, pulling him into the folds of the cloth. He struggled against the forced movement, but soon melted into the embrace. His cold skin felt like ice against her exposed stomach.

    Never again would he go cold under her watch.