I nodded once. Because ready or not, we were going. And whatever we found at those coordinates would change everything.
Again.
8
Dana
The landing craft's interior smelled like metal and recycled air and the sharp tang of adrenaline that sixteen people trying not to look terrified produced. I sat between Er'dox and one of Vaxon's security officers, a massive Zandovian named Kor'val whose bicep was approximately the size of my entire torso, and tried to remember the breathing exercises from Liberty's survival training.
In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Repeat until you stop feeling like your heart is trying to escape your ribcage.
It wasn't working.
"First field mission?" Kor'val asked, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder.
"Is it that obvious?"
"You're holding your breath every time we hit turbulence. Either first mission or you have serious trust issues with pilots."
"Can't it be both?"
That actually got a laugh from him, which made the other security personnel glance over with expressions ranging from surprise to amusement. Apparently joking with the giant alien warriors was not standard terrified-engineer behavior.
Er'dox leaned closer, his voice low enough that only I could hear over the engine noise. "You don't have to prove anything to them."
"Yes, I do. I'm the junior engineer on a tactical mission because I found a weird power signature. If I can't at least pretend I belong here?—"
"You caught sophisticated sabotage that my entire department missed. You decoded a signal that should have been impossible to interpret. You've already proven you belong." He paused. "But if you need to convince yourself, focus on the mission parameters. We're doing reconnaissance, not combat. Minimal risk scenario."
"You don't believe that."
"No. But I'm trying to be reassuring."
I almost smiled. Almost. Then the craft hit another pocket of turbulence that made my stomach try to relocate to my throat, and I went back to gripping the restraint harness like it was the only thing keeping me attached to reality.
The coordinates were three hours away at standard speed, far enough that we'd left Mothership behind, close enough that we could call for reinforcements if things went sideways. The system we were approaching wasn't on any major trade routes, which made it perfect for hiding salvage operations or establishing covert bases or generally doing things you didn't want official attention focused on.
"Approaching coordinates," the pilot announced. "Scanning for vessels or structures."
I pulled up the data feed on my portable interface, watching sensor returns populate in real-time. The third planet in this system was marginally habitable with a thin atmosphere, low gravity, surface mostly rock and ice. Not somewhere you'd choose to live, but adequate for temporary operations.
"Got something," the pilot said. "Small structure on the surface, probably prefabricated shelter. Minimal power signature, no defensive systems detected."
"Life signs?" Vaxon asked from his position near the cockpit.
"Inconclusive. Atmosphere is interfering with bio-scans."
"Then we land and investigate on foot." Vaxon's cobalt-blue eyes swept across the team. "Standard reconnaissance formation. Security establishes perimeter, Engineering evaluates the structure and any salvage. Dana stays in the center of formation at all times. Questions?"
No one had questions. Or if they did, they were smart enough not to voice them when Vaxon was in full tactical mode.
The landing was smooth despite the marginal atmosphere, our pilot threading us down through ice crystals and thin air to set down maybe fifty meters from the structure. Through the viewscreen, I could see it clearly now—definitely prefabricated, definitely human design, definitely not supposed to be here in the middle of nowhere.
My heart rate kicked up another notch.
"Suit check," Vaxon ordered.
I pulled my environmental suit's helmet into place, feeling the seals engage with soft hisses that sounded way too final. The heads-up display activated, showing me atmospheric composition that would kill me in about three minutes without protection, surface temperature that was technically above freezing but not by much, and a structural analysis of the shelter that suggested it was in decent condition.
