For three seconds, maybe four, pure relief washed through me. Rescue. Someone had heard us. Someone was coming.
Then my engineer brain kicked back in, and I really looked at what was descending toward us.
That wasn't any design I'd ever seen. Not Earth tech. Not Liberty design. The geometry was all wrong, the lights configured in patterns that didn't match any vessel I'd studied in my training.
"That's not one of ours," I said, my voice cutting through the rising chatter.
"Does it matter?" Bea asked. "It's a ship. It's?—"
"We don't know what it is."
The vessel was getting closer, impossibly large now that I could judge its scale. It had to be the size of a small city, all strange angles and surfaces that seemed to shift in the light. The roar of its engines—if they were engines—was building, a deep thrumming that I could feel in my bones.
"Weapons," I ordered, my command voice surprising even me. "Everyone who can stand, grab a weapon. We don't know if this is a rescue or something else."
The women moved, but I could see the hope war with fear on their faces. Because here was the terrible truth: we needed rescue so desperately that we'd take it from anyone, anything, even if it meant trading one death for another.
The ship was hovering now, maybe a hundred meters above the cave, its lights so bright I had to shield my eyes. Then something detached from its belly, a smaller craft, landing craft maybe, descending directly toward us.
"They're landing," Jalina said unnecessarily.
"I can see that."
My mind was racing, running through scenarios, calculating possibilities. First contact. We were about to make first contact with an alien species, and we were doing it half-starved, desperate, and armed with improvised weapons that wouldn't do shit against anything with actual technology.
The landing craft touched down maybe twenty meters from the cave entrance, close enough that I could see details now. Close enough to see that it was definitely designed by someone, something that didn't think like humans. The hatch was opening, ramp extending.
"Stay together," I said quietly. "Whatever happens, we stay together."
Figures emerged from the craft. Tall figures. Really tall figures. The ramp lights backlit them, making it hard to seedetails, but I could make out shapes that were humanoid but wrong in subtle ways.
One of them took a step forward, and the lights hit them full-on.
My breath caught in my throat.
Eight feet tall, maybe more. Muscular in a way that suggested serious gravity on their home world. Skin that had a blue bronze sheen to it, marked with geometric patterns that might have been tattoos or might have been something else entirely. Four-fingered hands. Eyes that caught the light with an amber gleam.
Alien. Unmistakably, undeniably alien.
The figure, male, I thought, though I had no idea if that category even applied, was looking at us. At our small, fragile, desperate group of humans huddling at the mouth of a cave on a planet that wanted us dead.
He made a sound. Words, probably, in a language I'd never heard.
No one moved. No one breathed.
The alien tried again, different sounds this time, still incomprehensible.
"We don't understand," I said, hating how small my voice sounded. "We're human. From... from far away. We don't speak your language."
More sounds from the alien. Then he turned, gesturing to others emerging from the craft. They were carrying equipment, scanners maybe, moving with purpose and efficiency that suggested this wasn't their first rescue operation.
Another alien approached, bigger than the first, if that was possible, with darker skin marked with different patterns. He moved with a careful deliberation, like he was trying not to spook us.
Smart. We looked about three seconds from bolting.
He pointed at us, then at the landing craft, made a gesture that was probably supposed to be reassuring.
"I think..." Bea's voice was barely a whisper. "I think they want us to go with them."
