He pulls up a holographic map from his tablet, and the capital city blooms into existence between us, rendered in blue light. I can see the major structures marked. I can easily pick out the governmental buildings, the infrastructure hubs, the residential districts that wait, empty and silent, for inhabitants to return.
"D'Rett, Healer L'Varen, and I will remain here at base to coordinate operations," L'Zaen continues, gesturing to the central hub on the map. "We'll serve as ground control. Our job will be monitoring weather patterns, tracking team movements, and maintaining communications across all groups. D'Rett willmanage logistics and security. L'Varen will oversee the medical station."
Healer L'Varen inclines his head in acknowledgment. He's a quiet, lean male with pale bronze scales and steady hands. He has the kind of stillness that speaks of patience rather than passivity. I've seen him in the medbay during the journey, but we've never talked much. Cerastean healers operate somewhere between doctor and scientist, and L'Varen carries both roles with an understated competence that makes you trust him on instinct.
"I will work to set up a functional triage station set up within the hour," L'Varen says, his voice low and measured. "I'm sending a list of symptoms to be aware of for heat exposure and dehydration to everyone's tablets. Also, be careful entering unstable structures. I'd like to minimize the possibility of injuries. And I need volunteers to help me clear a space nearby to set up my equipment."
L'Zaen nods approvingly, then shifts the display. "Team one will head to the power plant." He gestures to a structure on the outskirts of the city on the map. It is a sprawling complex that provides electricity to the entire capital region. "Ally will lead the engineering effort, with L'Tav, Dr. Reyes, and the rest of my team. L'Tarne, you'll pilot."
L'Tarne dips his chin. "Understood."
"Team two will tackle the water systems." L'Zaen shifts the holographic display, highlighting a different facility. "Dr. Petrova, you'll lead that effort. A'Vanti, the Chancellor has requested you assist with the initial assessment."
Dr. Zoya Petrova steps forward slightly. She's a compact woman in her early thirties with long blonde hair pulled back in a practical braid and kind brown eyes that contrast with her no-nonsense demeanor. I've played cards with her a few times in the rec room during the journey. She's brilliant and focused, with adry wit that sneaks up on you when you least expect it. "We'll need to assess the filtration systems, check for contamination, and verify the distribution network is intact," she says crisply.
"I'll fly them." The words are out of my mouth before I've fully processed the decision to speak. Everyone turns to look at me, and I feel heat creep up the back of my neck. But I don't take it back.
"The water plant," I clarify, keeping my voice steady. "I can pilot the shuttle for Dr. Petrova's team."
L'Zaen's gaze flicks between A'Vanti and me. His expression turns knowing and amused. But all he says is, "Very well."
The rest of the assignments flow quickly. Teams are dispatched to various parts of the capital and surrounding areas. Some will be sent to assess agricultural systems, others to survey key buildings for habitability, and still others to evaluate the communications infrastructure. It's a lot of moving pieces, a coordinated effort to ensure that Ceraste can truly live again.
Before the groups scatter, L'Zaen addresses A'Vanti directly. "Once you've completed your work at the water plant, Chancellor L'Forn has a list of buildings he wants evaluated for structural integrity. The specialty analysis bots are already loaded in Cody's shuttle; they'll help you collect the necessary data."
A'Vanti inclines her head in acknowledgment. "Understood."
As people begin moving toward their assigned ships, L'Tarne catches my arm. His grip is firm, his expression unusually serious.
"Pilot to pilot," he says, his voice low. "Pay attention to the wind patterns out there. The desert generates sudden, strong gusts. They come out of nowhere, and they'll knock you off course if you're not ready for them."
"Noted," I say, appreciating the warning. "Any other tips?"
"Trust your instruments over your eyes when the sand kicks up. Visibility can drop to nothing in seconds during a gust." He claps my shoulder once, a gesture of solidarity. "You've got good instincts. Just stay alert."
"Thanks, L'Tarne."
He nods and heads toward his own ship, and I turn to gather my passengers.
The next few minutes are a controlled chaos of loading people and equipment. My shuttle is one of the mid-sized vessels. It's bigger than a fighter dart but much smaller than the main transport. It's designed for exactly this kind of work: ferrying teams and supplies across rough terrain. Still, with Dr. Petrova's team of six, plus A'Vanti and all their equipment, it's a tight fit.
I help everyone get situated, securing equipment and making sure the analysis bots are properly stowed. A'Vanti takes the co-pilot seat beside me without discussion, and joy fills me at her easy assumption that she belongs there.
"Coordinates locked in," I announce, pulling up the water treatment facility on my navigation display. "Flight time should be about twelve minutes, depending on conditions."
Dr. Petrova gives a curt nod from the seat directly behind me. "Let's get moving, then. Daylight's burning."
I power up the engines and lift off, guiding the shuttle through the open bay doors and out into the Cerastean suns. The military base falls away beneath us, and then we're rising higher, the full scope of Najara spreading out below.
Flying through the city is surreal. Skyscrapers rise around us like the bones of some massive creature, all that beautiful architecture standing silent and empty. I thread between buildings, keeping our altitude relatively low to avoid the worst of the upper-level wind currents D'Rett warned me about. The streets below are empty canyons of pale gold stone, and Iimagine what they must have looked like when they were full of life.
Beside me, A'Vanti is quiet, her gaze fixed on the city passing beneath us. I don't need to ask what she's thinking. Every empty window, every silent street, must be a fresh reminder of what was lost.
We clear the main urban center and head out toward the facility, the buildings growing sparser as the desert reasserts itself. The landscape opens up into rolling dunes and rocky outcroppings, that same beautiful golden expanse we saw from orbit.
A massive gust of wind hits the ship without warning.
One moment we're flying smooth and level, the next the ship lurches hard to starboard as a sand-filled blast slams into the hull. The viewport goes momentarily opaque, a swirling curtain of gold that blocks out everything.
