Zach, Chapter 9 The pale light of dawn seeped through the canopy of alien foliage, casting a soft glow over the makeshift dining area. Tables hewn from fallen trees hosted clusters of passengers—once pampered tourists aboard a luxury spacecraft, now hardened by necessity into a community of hunters and fishermen. They huddled in their jackets against the morning chill, their breaths visible as they swapped tales of the previous day's hunt and speculated on the game yet to be tracked. Eric, the 1st Steward, moved with practiced ease among them, his broad shoulders parting the mist that clung to the ground. He approached a table where a tall, muscled woman sat alone, methodically spooning fish stew into her mouth. The dull gleam of dawn reflected off the surface of the broth, barely disguising its scarcity. "Morning," he said, foregoing the usual pleasantries. She looked up, the hint of a smile touching her lips as she recognized him. Their meals together had become a ritual, one of the few constants in a life upended by crash landings and survival. But today, Eric’s posture was rigid, his hands idle at his sides. "The Captain wants me to take the power-glider out," he began, his voice low, tinged with the weight of responsibility that seemed to settle on his shoulders like the dew around them. "Reconnaissance mission. I need someone to fly shotgun." His gaze met hers squarely. "You up for it?" The familiar thrill of anticipation fluttered in her chest—a feeling born from countless missions, now repurposed for this alien wilderness. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, the stew forgotten. Her nod was resolute, silent assent to the unspoken bond of trust between them. "Good," Eric said, a ghost of a grin fleeting across his features. "We leave now." With a single fluid motion, she stood, ready to face whatever lay beyond the confines of their encampment. It was a new world, but some things never changed: the call to explore, the drive to protect, and the allegiance those of shared hardships. Rachel's muscles flexed as she hoisted herself into the glider, a familiar sense of readiness pulsing through her. The pre-dawn air nipped at her skin, but excitement for the mission ahead warmed her from within. With practiced ease, she secured her harness and glanced over at Eric, who was already running through the pre-flight checks. "Strapped in?" he asked without looking up, his fingers dancing across the control panel. "Ready," she replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. The glider's engine roared to life, a deep hum that seemed to sync with Rachel's own heartbeat as they lifted off, the ground falling away as they soared into the sky, leaving behind the makeshift settlement that had become their unexpected home. Eric cut the engines sooner than she expected, and the sudden quiet was almost jarring. The wind whispered secrets as it caressed the glider's wings, and Rachel felt a sense of peace amidst the tension of their task. "Where are we heading?" Rachel's voice sliced through the silence as they banked between the jagged teeth of the mountain ranges, the first light of dawn casting long shadows across their path. Eric reached into a compartment beside him, pulling out a folded map which he handed to Rachel. "Take a look," he said, his eyes never leaving the horizon. "This planet belongs to Ceres Corporation. There's a fish processing plant about three-hundred miles north." Rachel unfolded the map with deliberate care, her eyes scanning the terrain features before peering out at the landscape below. "I knew there was something you weren't telling us," she said, half-accusingly, half in jest. "Your knowledge of this place was too convenient." A grin flashed across Eric's face as he engaged the engines once more, the glider gaining altitude to clear the crest of an imposing mountain. "Random luck on the Captain's behalf," he admitted. "But it's a lucky break for us. Ceres has five hidden worlds like this one. We use them to restock supplies for the resorts." Rachel nodded, folding the map and placing it securely in her pocket. Despite the gravity of their situation, stranded far from home, the idea of these secret worlds held a certain allure, a promise of untold adventures that stirred something within her—a longing for a different kind of life, perhaps, beyond the reach of the Corporation that had defined their existence. She turned her gaze back to the expanse of wilderness stretching out before them, the majestic beauty of the untamed world a stark contrast to the structured life she had known. Yet even here, the influence of the Corporation was inescapable, a reminder that no matter how far they flew, the ties that bound them to their origin could never truly be severed. The sun dipped low behind the peaks, casting a golden hue over the untamed forests below. Rachel’s eyes lingered on the landscape, her heart thrumming with a primitive connection to the wild expanse beneath them. “It’s a beautiful planet. I could live here,” she mused aloud, her gaze fixed on a particularly inviting ridge. “Perhaps that ridge right there. I’d build a cabin facing over that valley.” Eric followed her line of sight, a softness creeping into his usually stern features. “A wonderful dream. I’d help you build it,” he offered, his voice carrying the warmth of shared aspirations. Rachel turned towards him, her hand finding its way to his muscled forearm, a silent acknowledgement of their budding camaraderie. “Would you give up your life of luxury as a Steward?” she probed gently, feeling the solid strength beneath her fingertips. He met her eyes, the contact sending a jolt through him, like a spark igniting. “Gladly, and never have to deal with pampered guests again.” A wistful sigh escaped him. “I think I’d need to build a workshop next to the cabin. I like to make furniture in my spare time.” "Really?" She arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "You're a carpenter?" "Yup," he confirmed with a nod. "My father taught me. He said it would build up my patience to deal with the guests." The corners of his mouth twitched upwards, hinting at the countless stories hidden behind that simple statement. Her fingers brushed lightly against his skin as she withdrew her hand, a delicate dance of touch and retreat. “Don’t laugh, but my mother taught me to sew—she made quilts. I think I should be content hunting, fishing, and making quilts as she did… and maybe a baby or two.” Her voice dropped to a hush, a tender vulnerability surfacing with her confession. As they soared through the sky, their conversation flowed as freely as the rivers cutting through the valleys below. They spoke of dreams and possibilities, the kind that seemed almost tangible in this place far removed from their past lives. Time slipped away unnoticed, and soon the terrain shifted, signaling the approach of the ocean's vast embrace. Eric guided the glider toward a clearing nestled in the mountainside—a concealed vantage point, yet close enough for them to scout the area by foot. They landed with practiced ease, the silence of the glider’s descent in stark contrast to the bustling life within the forest. Together, they camouflaged their vessel with branches and foliage, masking its presence from any prying eyes. With their rifles slung over their shoulders and packs heavy with supplies, they stepped into the embrace of the forest. Each step took them deeper into the wild heart of the planet, the air rich with the scent of pine and earth. Somewhere in the distance, the domed processing plant awaited, a silent witness to their journey and a reminder of the Ceres Corporation’s reach. But for now, it was just Rachel and Eric, two souls bound by circumstance and a shared vision of a future that might never be, moving through a world that whispered of freedom and new beginnings. The forest thinned, and they emerged to face the ocean’s vast canvas, its waves a distant murmur against the mountain's base. Eric’s hands were steady as he raised the binoculars, his gaze cutting through the morning mist that clung to the jagged cliffs below. “The Captain wants to make the plant our permanent home, until the recall order comes in,” he said, his voice betraying none of the tension that tightened his shoulders. “But, the pirates have showed and he’s concerned the plant would be a perfect place for them to set up an ambush.” Handing over the binoculars, he watched Rachel’s eyes become the seasoned hunter’s once again, sweeping over the domed structure that rested like a giant barnacle clinging to the shoreline. "Your Captain made a good call sending us to check it out first. I see a dozen pirate ships down there," Rachel observed, her voice an echo of the military precision she had once sworn by. “What now?” The question hung between them, charged with the weight of unspoken stakes. Eric stared at the pirate ships, their dark silhouettes a stark contrast to the tranquil blue that cradled them. His eyes narrowed as if trying to pierce through the hulls and discern the intentions within. “We set up camp here and watch them.” He dropped his pack with a thud, the sound muffled by the carpet of pine needles beneath their feet. Rachel watched as he fumbled with the radio, his fingers moving with practiced urgency. But the mountains stood as silent sentinaries, blocking the signals with their immovable bulk. Eric put the radio back with a resigned sigh. “We planned for this. The Captain said if the pirates are here, we collect all the information we can on them, and return in one week.” A nod from Rachel was all the agreement he needed. They were two parts of a whole, bound not just by duty but by the shared kinship of survivors in a world that was as beautiful as it was unforgiving. Together, they would watch, wait, and weave their loyalty into the tapestry of a growing friendship that had given them something they had both been lacking. Rachel's side-eye glance caught Eric as he knelt, his hands working deftly to unpack needed supplies. "A whole week, whatever will we do?" she mused, a playful note threading through the words. Eric’s grin was quick to appear, a flash of camaraderie in a situation that bore little cheer. “Let’s start with building a hide-position next to those rocks,” he suggested, nodding toward a natural shelter formed by the mountain’s bones. “We don’t know if they fly patrols around the area.” Their days settled into a rhythm as monotonous as the tide lapping at distant shores. The pirates, visible through occasional glances through binoculars, were less threatening than expected—more inclined to fish and feast than to scan the skies for watchers. "Look at them," Rachel whispered one afternoon, her voice barely reaching Eric's ears. "They're like children, squabbling over toys." "Drunk, disorderly children with too many sharp objects," Eric corrected, though his tone held no real bite. They watched the pirates stumble and swagger, their antics punctuating the long, dull hours. As the fifth night drew its dark curtain across the sky, Rachel took the first watch, her eyes scanning the horizon where stars met the black silhouette of the processing plant. It was then, in the deepest silence, that the stillness fractured. She leaned over, her breath warm against Eric's ear as she roused him from sleep. “Something’s happening,” she whispered urgently. Instant awareness jolted Eric upright, his voice low—barely more than a rustle of leaves. “What is it?” Without a word, Rachel gestured toward the plant. The pirate ships, once content to nest along the waterside, were now stirring—a hive of activity under the cloak of darkness. The unmistakable thrum of engines warming cut through the night, a harbinger of change. “They’re bugging out,” she said, her statement an echo of the tension that gripped them both. Peering through the night, the figures of the pirates became specters, their movements hurried and purposeful as they abandoned their terrestrial revelries for the stars. Watching the ships ascend, Rachel and Eric shared a silent understanding. Whatever tomorrow brought, they would face it together. The pirate ships, like a swarm of metallic locusts, ascended in unison, their engines igniting the night with an urgent glow. Eric and Rachel watched, muscles tensed, as the vessels pierced the darkness, aiming for the stars instead of the mountains that stood sentinel around them. “We need to get back and tell the Captain,” Eric’s voice held an edge sharpened by necessity. Rachel shook her head slowly, her gaze still fixed on the dwindling lights. “Are you crazy, at night we’ll fly into a mountain. We should go ahead and break camp, hike back to the glider, and be ready to leave at first light.” Her tone left no room for argument. Eric gave a curt nod, his jaw set. “Good call, let’s do it.” As dawn crept over the horizon, they made their way through the dense forest undergrowth. The air was cool, carrying whispers of mist that clung to their skin. By the time they reached the hidden glider, the sky was a canvas of soft blues and pinks, signaling a new day. The flight back was a silent symphony of urgency; words were unnecessary as the landscape blurred beneath them. Eric pushed the engines beyond their usual pace, the hum vibrating through the cockpit. Beside him, Rachel kept vigilant watch, her eyes scanning the skies for any trace of the pirate ships. They landed just before the sun reached its zenith, the encampment a hive of unrest. Voices rose and fell in a cacophony of concern, the guests’ gestures animated, their faces etched with confusion and fear. Eric found the Captain and staff inside the briefing room clustered in front of screens that had been void of life for months. Now, each display buzzed with activity, reporters cycling through images and stories that seemed to pulse with uncertainty. "Sir, the pirates were at the processing plant, then last night they bugged out. What’s happening here?" Eric's question cut through the murmurs, demanding attention. The Captain turned, his face reflecting the gravity of the situation. The news continued to unfold behind him, a relentless stream of information that now held more weight than ever. It was a world in flux, and they were adrift within it. Eric's gaze fixed on the Captain, his brow furrowed in anticipation of an explanation. The room felt thick with trepidation as Seth's fingers danced across the control panel, summoning the play button to life. "Play the first broadcast, the one right before Captain Archer's announcement," the Captain ordered, his voice a low rumble that resonated with command. The flicker of screens illuminated faces painted with concern. Eric and Rachel leaned forward, their attention riveted to the unfolding news. As the broadcast sputtered to life, a collective breath seemed to hang in the briefing room, suspended like the fragile hope they all shared. "This is Sandra Clarine with Galactic News Network. We have breaking news from the front lines," the reporter's image filled the screen, her tone grave, hinting at the gravity of her words. The images that followed held them captive—a montage of Earth's forces bracing for a threat that loomed like a specter over humanity's cradle. Ships arced into the sky, their metallic surfaces glinting under the sun, while soldiers stood resolute, the embodiment of Earth's defiance. As the half-hour segment unfolded, speculation swirled around them, a maelstrom of fear and uncertainty. Eric felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Beside him, Rachel's hand clenched into a fist, her knuckles whitening. Then, as abruptly as it had begun, the stream of images ceased, leaving only Sandra Clarine at her desk, the sudden silence more jarring than the bombardment of news. Confusion etched her features as she pressed a finger to her earpiece, straining to make sense of the invisible voice whispering calamity. "What? Is this real? This can't be..." Her voice trailed off, disbelief warring with her duty as a journalist. A man, haggard and disheveled, strode into frame, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Report it, they need to know." The man, a vision of defeat, laid a piece of paper in front of the Anchor. Sandra Clarine looked at the paper, then into the camera, tears streaming down her face. “At 0210 this morning, the Mining Corporations Defense Fleet was destroyed by the Aliens in a brutal surprise attack. Earth Command has launched the Endurance, the new long-range colony ship which has been under-construction for five years. The one million pre-designated survivors aboard the Endurance will attempt to break through the enemy lines and escape the Galaxy in the hope to save the human species from extinction. The aliens are now sweeping across human space, destroying world after world with their superior technology. Earth Command has ordered all colonial forces to fall back to Earth. We will make our final stand here.” The Anchor took her earpiece out and stood. “I’m going home now to be with my family.” Silence fell heavy upon the room, the weight of those words crushing. Eric exchanged a look with Rachel, the same dark anger mirrored in her eyes that he felt coursing through his veins. A spark of humor that once might have lightened the moment now lay dormant, extinguished by the gravity of the revelation. Eric stood, his face locked in determination. “We need to launch for Earth.” The Captain shifted, his stance embodying the responsibility he bore. "That broadcast was sent five hours ago, and we did try to launch, but the repairs to the ship are not complete, and it is fortunate we were unable to launch. An hour ago, Captain Archer broadcasted a statement to all human worlds.” Eric nodded, feeling the sudden pull of loyalty to the Corporation at the mention of Captain Archer’s name; the founder of the Ceres Corporation, a galactic empire. “I’d like to hear his statement.” “I’m not sure you do,” Captain Hunter replied cryptically. "Whatever comes next," Eric said, his voice steady despite the turmoil within, "we face it together. For the Corporation, for humanity. We will stand against the aliens, and we will not surrender." The Captain’s eyes flicked to Seth. “Playback Captain Archer’s statement.” An image of Captain Archer appeared on the screen. He was standing on an observation deck with a planet framed behind him. “I am Captain Archer of the World Ship, Aurora. Behind me is the alien planet we have heard so much about, and none of it true. We have been the victim of a hoax so immense in scale, so diabolical, so criminal in nature, as to be the largest hoax ever perpetrated in human history.” The camera panned down to a blue crystal lying on a stone cradle. “This is the aliens,” he said, gesturing to the crystal. “The aliens did not attack any of our mining ships, settlements, colonies, stations, or even so much as leave their own solar system. The attack came from the Mining Corporations with the intent to commit genocide against a race of beings that have never experienced war. The purpose was to steal these crystals as a potential new source of fuel. I would like you to meet the Ara.” A being of pure blue light, with tendrils of light flowing from its center rose from the crystal, and hovered over it like a rising sun. “In the final moments before the Mining Corporations were to begin their bombardment of the alien world, the aliens launched a fleet of ten-thousand ships–exploration ships with no weapons, and lying dormant under the surface of their world for millions of years. The brave Ara that flew those ships did so knowing they would not be returning to their homes. There will be more information on that final defense of their world in the days to come, but for now, rest assured that justice will be served. I have already arrested dozens of senior corporation executives, and there will be many more arrests. Remain calm, recall your evacuation fleets, there was never a threat to humanity. Do not engage in vigilantism or retribution. Justice will occur properly through the courts. That is all for now. I will speak with you again soon.” Eric sat down heavily in an empty chair at the table. “We did this, the Corporations.” Captain Hunter nodded. “A few bad Corporations. The majority are innocent.” “It doesn’t matter, and it doesn’t matter what Captain Archer said, there will be riots on every world. They will tear down every Corporation.” Rachel placed a hand over Eric’s hand. “It’s going to be much worse than just riots. Any corporation member on any evacuation ship are going to be thrown out airlocks.” “I know,” Captain Hunter replied. “I’ve been allowing our passengers to send sub-space communications to their families. Hopefully, a few will escape in time. I’ve also given them permission to give the coordinates of this planet, and contacted our Corporation. Ceres is sending a security force. We will give sanctuary and protection to anyone at risk of retaliation.” Eric stood. “We need to move to the processing plant. We’ll be better able to take in refugees there, and I saw anti-aircraft guns.” The Captain nodded. “Very good, let’s get this ship fixed and moved to the plant.”