Page 11 of Larz

Just as I prepared to leave my covert spot, footsteps approached my hiding place. His insatiable curiosity rivaled — a Zorvian warrior named Taryn only.

“What brings you out here, Larz?” Taryn whispered as he drew near, his eyes glinting with mischief in the moonlight.

I hesitated before answering—aware that my actions bordered on insubordination—but Taryn deserved honesty. “Observing our visitors,” I admitted slowly.

Taryn crouched beside me—his gaze drifting toward the human encampment with intrigue rather than judgment. “And what have you learned?”

“That they are more like us than I thought,” I confessed quietly—my voice betraying a hint of wonderment despite myself.

Taryn considered this for a moment before nodding slowly—his silhouette melding with the darkness around us like ink spilling across the parchment. “Perhaps there is common ground to be found after all.”

As we retreated toward our city—the echo of human laughter following us like a whispering ghost—I pondered Taryn’s words and found within them a possibility that had never occurred to me before: that our two peoples might learn from each other, if given the chance.

The journey back was silent but filled with unspoken thoughts—as if our very footsteps tread upon new paths not just through Oumtera’s wilds but also through potential futures neither of us could yet fully envision.

And though I returned to my quarters with stealth—the secrets of night clinging to me like dew—I knew that something had shifted within me; something subtle yet profound—a realization that understanding these humans might be key not just to their survival but perhaps to ours as well.

Chapter

Five

Hailee

The moonscape sprawled before us like the bleached bones of a giant beast, desolate and unyielding. Our group huddled together, dwarfed by the alien landscape that was to become our proving ground. A makeshift banner, stitched together from scraps of the shuttle’s interior, snapped in the weak atmosphere—a symbol of human tenacity.

“I’ll take point,” I volunteered, my voice sounding muffled through the comm in my helmet. The suit felt cumbersome, a shell of false security against the unknown.

Caleb, a former oil rig worker with forearms like steel cables, gave a curt nod. “You sure? It ain’t exactly a Sunday stroll out here.”

A chuckle escaped my lips before I could stifle it. “Trust me, I’m looking for normal. This is as close as it gets.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “All right then, lead on.”

We moved in a cautious line, our boots crunching on gravel that hadn’t felt footsteps until ours. Each step was an act of will against gravity’s feeble pull.

Jana, our botanist whose fascination with alien flora never waned, trailed her gloved fingers across a silvery plant that spiraled out of the ground like frozen smoke. “Would you look at this?”

I admired her find. “Beautiful and eerie all at once.”

“Could be useful too,” she mused.

Her optimism was a lifeline; it drew smiles even from Sergei, our stoic geologist who seldom spoke unless to point out a rock formation’s potential for resources.

As we ventured further from our landing site, we relied on beacons that blinked reassuringly behind us—breadcrumbs in this vast wilderness.

The ground changed underfoot, from dusty soil to jagged rock formations that clawed at the sky. A ridge loomed ahead, sharp enough to slice the horizon in two.

“Hailee,” Sergei called out, “that ridge could have what we’re looking for.”

My gaze followed his outstretched arm. “Let’s check it out then.”

We navigated the terrain with careful determination, aware that one misstep could lead to disaster. The ridge was unforgiving; its edges jagged as broken glass and just as merciless.

“You good?” Caleb asked as I grunted, hauling myself up an incline.

“Never better,” I lied through gritted teeth.

Laughter crackled over the comm unit—Jana’s. “We’ll make a climber out of you yet!”

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