“No signs of recent occupation from what we can see. The architecture is not human or Destran, but some of the technology appears vastly different to anything I’ve seen before. It could be ancient or it could be relatively modern. Unfortunately, none of it is operational as it’s lacking a power source.”
“Listen carefully,” Torven said. “I want both teams to establish defensive perimeters and maintain regular contact. If there are other inhabitants on this planet, we need to assume they might not be friendly, until proven otherwise.”
“Understood, Captain. Should we attempt to—”
There was a sharp, piercing tone that cut through Henic’s words, followed by garbled noises that sounded like voices speaking in an unknown language. Then the transmission cut off entirely, leaving us in silence.
Torven immediately tried to reestablish contact, cycling through frequencies and adjusting the signal strength. Nothing.
“What happened?” I asked, though I had a sinking feeling I already knew.
“Someone else was listening to our conversation,” Torven said grimly. “And they cut the transmission.”
I stared at the dead communicator, my mind racing through the implications. “So we’re not alone on this planet.”
“No. We’re definitely not alone.”
“The question is whether these other people are the peaceful, let’s-all-work-together type, or the hunt-down-and-kill-the-aliens type.”
Torven’s skin had shifted to the darker colors that indicated stress and alertness. “Given our luck so far, I’m not optimistic.”
I chewed on my lower lip, thinking through what we knew. “If they have the technology to monitor and interrupt communication signals, they’re at least as advanced as we are. Which could be good if they’re friendly and want to help, or very bad if they’re hostile.”
“The fact that they cut off our transmission rather than trying to communicate with us doesn’t suggest friendly intentions,” Torven pointed out.
He was right, and that realization made my chest tight with anxiety. Bad enough that we were stranded on a inhospitable planet with limited supplies and failing weather control systems. Now we potentially had to worry about unknown aliens who might want to capture or kill us.
“Should we try to contact the crew again?” I asked. “Warn them?”
“Not from here. If someone is monitoring this frequency,we don’t want to give away any more information about our location or theirs.”
That made sense, but it also meant that Henic’s and Jorug’s teams were out there with no warning about potential hostile surveillance. And Cleo’s team was still missing entirely.
I slumped against the communication console, feeling the weight of our situation settling over me like a heavy blanket. An hour ago, our biggest problems had been food supplies and figuring out our relationship. Now we had unknown aliens potentially hunting us, scattered crew members who couldn’t be warned, and my best friend missing and possibly dead.
“Hey,” Torven said softly, moving to stand beside me. “We’ll figure this out.”
I looked up at him, this male who was now my mate, who’d promised to protect me no matter what. The mating marks on his neck were visible even in the dim light of the communication room, like a permanent reminder that my life had been flipped upside down in the space of a single morning.
“I’m scared,” I admitted. “Not just for us, but for all of them. For Cleo.”
“I know.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “But fear means you care, and caring makes you fight harder to survive.”
I leaned into his touch, drawing strength from it. “Very philosophical for a transport pilot.”
“I have hidden depths, Rivers.”
Despite everything, that made me smile. “I knew that about you.”
We stood there for a moment, holding onto each other and the fragile hope that we might actually survive this mess. Outside, the weather continued its temporary calm, but I knew it wouldn’t last. The storm systems would return and we’d be back to fighting for our lives against a hostile environment.
But now we had possible new enemies to worry about. Unknown aliens with decent technology and unclear intentions.
And somewhere out there, Cleo might be lying injured or dying, unable to call for help.
I straightened up, pushing aside the fear and uncertainty. We had information now. We knew some of our people were alive, we knew there were other inhabitants on this planet, and we knew the weather patterns were at least temporarily stable.
It wasn’t much, but it was more than we’d had this morning.
