"For your delicate human skin, Goober," L'Tarne says, a teasing glint in his eye.
Before I can respond, Chelsea appears at his elbow, snagging her own set from the pile. "You likemydelicate human skin just fine," she says, her voice light and playful.
L'Tarne's expression softens immediately. He shifts the remaining gear to one arm and pulls her to him with the other, nuzzling into the curve of her neck. "That I certainly do," he murmurs.
Chelsea laughs and swats at him, but she's blushing as she pulls away, taking some of the equipment to help distribute more gear to the people around us.
D'Rett follows behind them, handing out slim earpieces and compact sidearms. "Comms," he says, pressing an earpiece into my palm. "The wind kicks up fast on Ceraste, and when it does, you won't be able to hear someone standing right next toyou. Keep it in at all times." He passes me the sidearm next, small but solid. "And this stays on your hip. Standard issue for all expedition personnel. Hopefully you won't need it, but this planet has plenty of predators."
I fit the earpiece into place and hear L'Zaen's voice crackle through. "Comm check. Sound off by team."
A rapid-fire series of confirmations follows, each voice crisp and clear through the Cerastean tech. When my turn comes, I tap the earpiece and say, "Pilot Johnson, standing by."
"Copy that, Goober," D'Rett's voice comes back, and I can hear the grin in it.
I help A'Vanti with her wrap, adjusting the fabric so it covers her nose and mouth properly. I settled the goggles on top of her head, pushed back and ready. Part of me hates it. I've spent so much time learning to read her expressions, and now half her face is hidden behind Cerastean engineering. But I've been warned that the weather out there can be brutal, and I'd rather she be protected than easily readable.
"Thank you," she says, her voice slightly muffled by the fabric.
I pull on my own gear, goggles perched atop my head, ready in case the wind and dust kick up. I give A'Vanti a thumbs up, feeling slightly ridiculous. We look like a gang of desert bandits, but no one's complaining.
I stay pressed to her side, and no one questions it. Maybe they understand. Maybe they just don't care. Right now, it doesn't matter.
The doors begin to open.
Light spills in, bright and golden, the unfiltered radiance of the Cerastean suns. Then comes the heat, a wall of dry air that rolls over us like a physical force. And finally, riding on that wave of heat, comes the smell.
Dry sage. Dust. Something mineral and earthy, like sun-baked clay.
It's not unpleasant. If anything, it's strangely inviting. It reminds me of my time at Edwards Air Force Base – of my time training in the Mojave Desert, surrounded by nothing but creosote bushes, cactus, and endless sky. I'd thought it was desolate at first. But I'd learned to love it by the time my stint there was done.
The air that hits my face is hot and arid, nothing like the controlled atmosphere of the ship. It sucks the moisture from my lips almost instantly and makes my eyes want to water. But it also feels invigorating and alive.
A'Vanti inhales deeply beside me, her eyes closing for a moment. When she opens them again, they're bright with unshed tears.
"Welcome to Ceraste," she says, her voice a whisper meant for only my ears.
Then she steps forward, onto the ramp, into the light.
CHAPTER 7
Cody
We step off the ramp into the hangar. It's dim and cavernous, dust motes drifting through the shafts of light pouring in from the open door. Without a word, the group turns and heads outside to take a look at the surrounding world. When we step outside, Ceraste hits me with everything it has.
The suns are brutal.
I've trained in deserts before. I've trained in the Mojave, the Sonoran, and even had a brief stint in the Sahara during a joint exercise, but nothing compares to this. The dual Cerastean suns blaze down with an intensity that makes me feel like a pizza sliding into a brick oven. I'm half-convinced I can feel my skin crisping.
I stare at the alien architecture soaring overhead. The sky is blue with a slight lavender tinge. A fine dusting of glittering golden sand seems to cover everything. A thousand details thatshould have me gaping like a tourist. But despite all of it, my gaze continually drifts to A'Vanti.
She walks at my side, her shoulders squared, her chin lifted. She's in practical field gear like the rest of us, not her usual colorful robes, but she still looks like she belongs here in a way that makes my chest ache. This is her world. Her home. And watching her reclaim it, even just these first tentative steps, I realize something with a clarity that catches me off guard.
I'd follow her anywhere.
The thought settles into my bones with a weight that should terrify me. We've known each other for months, not years. One kiss – one world-changing, earth-shattering kiss – and a handful of moments stolen between duties and briefings. It's not enough time to feel this certain about anything.
But I am.
