“Ah, that’s an Earth term. It means…hiding your emotions. Being unreadable.” I gestured at my very readable expression. “Which I’m apparently terrible at.”
He laughed. Actually laughed, a warm sound that transformed his features from stern to almost approachable. “This is not a failing. Honesty is valuable.”
“Even when I’m honestly thinking you’re full of shit?” I asked, even though it was doubtful the translator had a D’tran word equivalent to “shit” that made any sense at all.
“Especially then.” His eyes were fully gold now, amused and warm. “How else will I know when I’m being an arrogant ass?”
I blinked. “Did you just…?”
“Yes. I learned that phrase from listening to you speakwith Baleck last night. The guards reported it.” He raised an eyebrow. “You called someone an arrogant ass. I assumed you meant me.”
Heat flooded my face. “I…may have said something along those lines. In my defense, you did order us tied up.”
“A reasonable precaution.”
“Still made you an ass.”
“One day I will have definitions of these insults.” He gestured ahead, where the settlement opened into a larger plaza. “Come. There’s something I want you to see.”
We walked through the plaza, past a well where people were drawing water, past vendors selling goods from small stalls. Baleck had rejoined us, looking pleased with himself.
“I learned seventeen new words,” he announced. “And I think I insulted someone’s mother by accident, but they were gracious about it.”
“Progress,” I said dryly.
Rezor led us to the edge of the settlement, where the buildings gave way to open ground and then forest. But before the tree line, there was a structure that made my breath catch.
A massive dome, maybe thirty meters in diameter, constructed from what looked like transparent panels held together by a crude metal framework. Inside, I could see lush green growth. Plants in organized rows. Vining vegetables climbing supports. Trees heavy with fruit.
“A grow facility,” I breathed. “That’s… That’s advanced hydroponics and climate control. Where did you…?”
“Salvaged,” Rezor said. “From crashed ships over many cycles. And from the tower.” He pointed beyond the facility,where I could just make out ruins rising above the forest canopy. Twisted metal and broken crystal, half-buried in vegetation and time. “The tower held much technology before it fell and some was salvageable. We’ve learned to repurpose what we could recover.”
I stared at the grow facility, my mind racing. The engineering required to build something like that from salvaged parts was staggering. These people weren’t just survivors. They were innovators. Problem-solvers working with limited resources to create something genuinely impressive.
“Most of these plants are native,” Rezor continued. “Some have been propagated for thousands of sun-cycles. When the storms began, our ancestors preserved what seeds they could before taking refuge. Later, after this was built, the seeds were revived and generations of plants are a living reminder of what this world once was. Perhaps, could be again. Other plants were cultivated from seeds found in crashed vessels. We grow what we can, hunt what we must.”
“You have many crashes here,” I said, taking in the different materials that had been used to create this structure.
“Yes,” Rezor replied. “But you are the first survivors in over fifty sun cycles.”
Well, that explained the fear and apprehension. “The tower,” I said, looking again at the distant ruins. “What was it?”
“A weapon, according to the old records. Built by enemies to control the weather and, therefore, us.” His expression darkened. “It fell in a landslide, giving us this refuge.”
“And you’ve been isolated here ever since.”
He looked at me, his eyes shifting back to that intense fuchsia. “Yes, until three days ago.”
We stood there in silence, looking at the ruins of a lost technology and the grow facility built from its remains. A civilization that had survived disaster through ingenuity and determination. That had adapted, preserved, planned for a future they might never see.
And I was starting to understand that maybe, we’d crashed in a place that deserved better than to be disrupted by three aliens with their own problems.
“I like this,” I said quietly. “What you’ve built here.”
Rezor’s eyes warmed to gold again. “Even though we tied you up?”
“Even though.” I met his gaze, ignoring the way my pulse quickened when those eyes shifted colors. “You’re doing the best you can with what you have. That’s all anyone can do.”
