The silence in the cave felt heavier than ever before.
For the first time since crash-landing on this unknown, Kaiju-infested planet, there were no engineering tasks left for Oris, no launch paths for Tyren to carve, no reactors to stabilize or sleds to assemble. Even Kael had stopped moving.
The only sounds were the flickering of a fuel lamp and the low hum of the cave's perimeter sensor — faint reminders that danger still existed outside, even if things inside felt… lifeless.
Oris sat cross-legged near the melted remnants of Ravager Mk I's old weapon cores. He wasn't tinkering. He was staring.
Tyren leaned against the cold stone, his head tipped back, arms crossed, eyes open but unfocused.
Lisette had tried to prepare food.
Freya sharpened tools that no longer needed sharpening.
Kira swept dust from an area that no longer gathered dust.
No one talked. No one joked. The room that once echoed with petty fights, sarcasm, or planning was now still as a tomb.
Kael eventually stood and walked toward the mouth of the cave.
He looked at the sky — never blue, never dark, just endlessly dim.
"They'll make it," he muttered, maybe to himself.
Or maybe to whatever gods watched this cursed world.
---
Somewhere in deep space, a thin white craft streaked like a dying comet between dead moons and asteroid belts.
Inside, Trask and Draan were hunched over flickering control panels, re-routing power again and again, just to stay functional.
"Plasma core's leaking," Draan muttered.
"It'll hold for two more jumps," Trask grunted, adjusting stabilizer flaps. "Long enough to get us within signal range of the grid."
The Ghost Slip rattled as it exited another micro-jump, the violent tremor throwing sparks from the rear console. Draan hissed as a glowing wire brushed his wrist.
"Damn thing's stitched with more hope than tech."
"Then we better hope harder."
The old men worked in silence for the next two hours, patching up the auxiliary comms antenna. Trask fed coordinates through the system as the location tracker blinked.
"We're approaching a fleet beacon."
Draan squinted at the flickering data. "Battleship ID code... 'Ganymede Aegis.' Ring a bell?"
Trask froze.
His hand hovered over the transmit button.
"…that's the one that threw them out."
Draan looked up. "Still want to call them?"
Trask didn't answer for a moment. Then: "They'll never help if we tell them who we're here for. So we don't."
He hit the button.
---
The connection established with a slight crackle.
> [Transmitting: Unknown Civilian Vessel]
[Receiving: Battleship Ganymede Aegis – Outer Perimeter Comm Unit]
A calm voice came over the line — too calm.
> "Unregistered vessel. Identify yourselves and your purpose."
Trask leaned in. "This is Trask and Draan, survivors from a crash. We've escaped from a Kaiju-infested planet, designating it... unknown, but within Grid Sector Zeta-4. We request permission to land and report survivors."
There was silence.
> "Sector Zeta-4 is uncharted and classified as 'uninhabitable.' Are you sure of the coordinates?"
"Yes," Trask lied smoothly. "We crash-landed. We've confirmed multiple life forms — Kaiju-class creatures, confirmed threat level unknown. There are survivors on-planet. Minimal supplies. Requesting reinforcement."
Another pause.
The voice returned, a little more formal now.
> "We'll have to elevate this to strategic command. Remain in current location. No approach until clearance is granted."
Draan flicked off the transmission mic. "They don't sound eager."
"They will be," Trask muttered. "Once they smell something valuable. Kaiju data. A mystery planet. They'll come running."
"But what happens when they find out who sent us?"
Trask looked toward the stars.
"Then we'll see if this universe still knows how to feel shame."
---
Back on the planet, the air felt thicker.
As the group sat around a low-burning fire near the harvest chamber, Kael finally spoke.
"They'll delay. Or pretend it's not real. That's what they do. But if Trask and Draan can hold out long enough... they might just drag someone out here."
Oris rubbed his face, eyes bloodshot. "Until then, we keep upgrading. Keep hunting. And keep moving."
Tyren nodded. "I'll re-route our perimeter sensor grid tomorrow. The Kaiju seem to move in patterns. I can create safer paths."
Kael looked at the others — the girls huddled near the back, unusually quiet.
Then, for the first time in a while, Kael said something not rooted in anger:
"If we make it out... you all deserve better than how we got here."
No one responded.
But no one disagreed.
-