He sets us down on a flat stretch of ground outside the nearest structure, and the engines cycle to silence.
He turns to the others before anyone moves. "Everyone stays together. No one wanders off, no one goes exploring on their own. We move as a unit, we stay alert, and if I say we leave, we leave. Clear?"
L'Stourn nods, his hand resting on his sidearm. Dr. Reyes checks the compact weapon at her hip, though I suspect she has had far less training with it than the rest of us.
I draw my own weapon and meet Cody's eyes. He holds my gaze for a beat longer than the others, and I see protectiveness flicker behind the soldier's mask. The fierce, primal need to keep me safe that I have come to recognize as inseparable from the way he loves me.
I give him a small nod. I am fine. We are fine.
The ramp lowers, and the dry heat of the desert rolls over us. I pull my face wrap into place and step out onto alien-looking ground.
Because that is what this is, I realize. Though I am standing on my own planet, the ground around this facility feels foreign.The sand is darker here, stained by whatever processes have been running inside that mine. A faint chemical scent hangs in the air, acrid and mineral, nothing like the clean sage-and-dust smell of the open desert.
We move toward the nearest structure in a tight formation, Cody in the lead, with L'Stourn covering our flank. The buildings loom larger as we approach, their dark walls scored by sand erosion but otherwise intact.
Cody pauses at the entrance and pulls a small sonic emitter from his belt, anchoring it to the wall next to the doorway. "That'll keep any wildlife from wandering in behind us," he says.
"Spread out a little," Cody says as we enter the main compound, "but stay within eyesight. Watch your step."
The facility is eerily silent. The walkways are narrow and utilitarian, with overhead conduits running along the ceiling like exposed veins. Everything is coated in fine sand, but beneath it, the surfaces are clean and precise.
Military, I think. This feels military.
I study the walls as we move, my architect's eye cataloging details even as my heart rate climbs. The proportions are wrong. The doorways are slightly shorter and narrower than ours, the corridors scaled for people who are not shaped like Cerasteans. The more I see, the more certain I become. My people did not build this place.
Something catches my eye, and I stop so abruptly that Dr. Reyes nearly walks into me.
"A'Vanti?" Cody is at my side in an instant, weapon raised, scanning for threats. "What is it? What's wrong?"
But I cannot speak. I can only stare at a panel mounted on the wall beside the nearest doorway.
I make a sound. A sharp, involuntary intake of breath that comes out closer to a gasp.
"What?" Cody's hand finds my arm. "A'Vanti, talk to me."
I raise a trembling finger and point to the writing.
"That," I say, and my voice sounds strange and distant to my own ears, "is the Ostium language."
I turn slowly, seeing the facility with new eyes. The proportions built for bodies slightly different from our own. Every detail that felt wrong now snaps into terrible focus.
"This is not Cerastean architecture," I say. "This is Ostium. All of it." I look at Cody, and I know my expression must be alarming because his hand tightens on my arm. The Ostium built a mining operation on Ceraste. On my planet. And no one knew.
The question ofwhyhangs in the hot, still air.
Dr. Reyes moves past us, her attention caught by whatever lies beyond the doorway. She steps through carefully, scanning the interior of what appears to be a large processing area. Equipment lines the walls. Machinery I don't recognize, conveyors, sorting stations, all of it coated in thick dust but clearly designed for heavy industrial use.
"This is definitely a mining operation," she says, her voice carrying the authority of someone stating a professional assessment. She runs her hand along one of the sorting bins, examining the residue. "Extraction and processing. Whatever they were pulling out of the mountain, they were refining it on-site."
Cody's jaw tightens. "We need to report this. Now." He looks at each of us in turn. "Back to the shuttle. Stay tight."
We retrace our steps through the compound, moving faster now, the silence of the facility weighing down on me. The sonic emitter chirps as we pass it, still keeping its vigil at the entrance. The open air should feel like relief after the closeness of those corridors, but it doesn't.
We are halfway to the ship when Cody stops dead.
His weapon comes up in one fluid motion, trained on a cluster of rock outcroppings at the base of the ridge, maybe fifty meters to our left. I follow his gaze. Two figures shuffle out from what looks like the mouth of an old mine shaft, half hidden by fallen rock.
They move slowly with stumbling, halting steps. They are upright and bipedal, but their proportions seem off for Cerastean or human. Their heads and faces are wrapped in rough fabric against the sun, making it impossible to tell what species they are.
