“Captain. Dr. Rivers.” He grabbed Torven in a brief, fierce embrace, then turned to me. “Thank the stars. The communication systems were completely scrambled by the atmospheric interference until it just…cleared suddenly. When we received your transmission, we almost didn’t believe it was you.”
“We’re fine,” Torven said. “And I am glad to see all six of you safe.”
“Pod two landed intact,” Henic said. “We managed to linkup with pod four two sun cycles ago. Everyone’s healthy, no serious injuries.”
“And pod three?” I asked, though my heart was already sinking at his expression.
“We don’t know. We managed to link our beacons when we met up, and that amplified our range. We picked up a faint signal coming from deep in the eastern territories. We tried to make contact, but the signal was lost.” His face was grim. “We fear the worst.”
I looked at Torven, who nodded. “We know where they are,” he said. “Vikkat told us they landed in a valley controlled by a leader named Rezor. We’re heading there next.”
“We use caution,” Vikkat said, approaching. “Rezor does not welcome outsiders.”
After a brief reunion with the rest of the crew—everyone was healthy, just shaken and eager to go home—we loaded everyone into the crawler and headed east.
The journey to Rezor’s territory took another full day. The landscape shifted as we traveled, becoming more rugged and dramatic. The land itself showed signs that it had not been as affected by the weather systems as other areas had. Larger patches of green, streams that ran clear instead of toxic, even small animals that scattered at our approach.
We crossed into his territory at a natural boundary marked by an ancient stone formation in the side of a mountain.
“Tunnel runs through here,” Vikkat explained. “Rezor’s valley is on other side. Protected from weather. Tower close tothem was destroyed. They enjoy better land, but also more predators.”
The guards who met us at the mountain tunnel were D’tran, but different from Vikkat’s warriors. They were leaner, harder, with an edge to their movements that spoke of constant vigilance.
“State your purpose,” the lead guard demanded in clipped D’tran.
Vikkat spoke for us, explaining about the crash, the missing crew members, our need to retrieve them. The guards listened with expressions that gave nothing away, then one of them spoke into a communication device that looked significantly more advanced than anything I’d seen Vikkat’s people use.
“You may proceed to the central valley,” the guard said finally. “But you will be escorted. And you will leave when told to leave.”
We traveled through the tunnel under close watch. Our crawler was escorted by two of Rezor’s vehicles. Our convoy was abruptly stopped at the end of the tunnel. We were instructed to get out, and did so, allowing me a glimpse of the valley. Although it was too far away to see much, it took my breath away. It was lush. Actually lush. I could feel warm, humid air on my skin. Trees grew here, real trees with many different-colored leaves and sturdy trunks. Water flowed through carefully maintained channels. And at the center stood the remains of a weather tower that had clearly fallen long ago—I could see where a massive landslide had taken it down, long before we’d arrived. The remains had beencarefully dismantled and repurposed into structures throughout the valley.
But we were not allowed to approach the central settlement, which was hidden among the forest. More guards emerged. Unlike Vikkat’s guards, who wore layers of protective clothing, these guards wore well-crafted leather pants and no shirt. Thick straps crisscrossed their chests, holding weapons and supply bags. These males weren’t escorting. They were blocking.
“This is as far as you go,” one of them said.
“We’re here to retrieve our crew members,” Torven said, his voice carrying the authority of command. “Two Destrans and one human from our ship. They’re survivors, not prisoners.”
“They are guests of Rezor. Under his protection.”
“We don’t need his protection,” I said, pushing forward. “We need them back. One of them is my friend. Her name is Cleo. I need to see her. I need to know she’s okay.”
“She is well. All three are well. That is all you need to know.”
“Like hell it is—” I started, but Torven’s hand on my arm stopped me.
Before he could speak, the guards shifted, parting to create a clear path. And through that path walked the most formidable D’tran I’d ever seen.
Rezor.
He was tall, even by D’tran standards, with a build that suggested both strength and speed. He was shirtless, displaying his marks, which covered much of his skin in intricate patternsthat seemed to move as he walked. But it was his face that held my attention. Sharp features that could have been carved from stone, eyes that shifted from amber to red to blue as he assessed us, and an expression that radiated absolute authority.
This was a leader who’d fought for every inch of his territory and defended it against all comers. This was someone who’d never bent to anyone’s will but his own.
He stopped a few meters away and studied us with an intensity that made my skin prickle. When he spoke, his voice was deep and carried easily across the distance.
“I am Rezor. These lands are mine. The three who fell from the sky are under my protection.” His gaze moved to me, then to Torven, and finally settled on Vikkat. “I thank you for ending weather corruption. My scouts report towers are silent across all territories.”
“The valley looks like it was never affected,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
