I've always heard that when you die, your life flashes before your eyes.
That's bullshit.
When death comes from above at terminal velocity, you don't see your past—you see fire. You hear screaming. You feel metal twist like paper. You smell fuel and blood and burning hair. That's the truth of it. Not poetry. Not meaning. Just chaos.
The Starborn Venture was supposed to be indestructible. State-of-the-art. Humanity's best. They said we were the vanguard of expansion—scouting uncharted space, logging resource zones, claiming new colonies.
They didn't mention planetary storms that scramble nav systems, or plasma flares that rip your shields to shreds.
And they sure as hell didn't warn us about what happens when trust dies before the body.
The ship hit the ground like a meteor.
We didn't crash—we cratered.
My harness snapped loose on impact. I slammed into the overhead console, bounced, then hit the floor in a broken tangle of limbs and static. Sirens wailed. Panels flickered. Somewhere, someone was sobbing.
I tasted copper.
"Get up, Tarek!" someone shouted. "We've got to move!"
Tarek. That was me. Lieutenant Tarek Solus. Engineer. Tech specialist. Last one to leave the burning bridge and the first one they decided was expendable.
I staggered upright, blinking blood out of my eyes. Half the ship was on fire. The other half was open to the sky—a violet sky that churned with twin moons and black clouds like ink in water.
"Where's the captain?" I asked, voice raw.
No answer.
Just a look.
Three of them were clustered at the torn bay doors. Commander Reyes. Arden Myles, the comms officer. And Lyra.
Lyra fucking Voss. Medical officer. My partner. The woman I thought might be my future.
They were strapping on gear, grabbing emergency kits, eyes wide and wild. Like animals. Like survivors.
"Something's moving out there," Arden hissed. "Big."
"Movement?" I limped forward. "We need to stick together—triage the wounded—"
"Tarek," Reyes cut me off. "You're the only one with a functioning heat signature dampener, right?"
I blinked. "Yeah, why?"
A beat passed.
And then she said it.
"Use it. Draw them off."
I froze. "You want me to—what?"
"Just lead them away. For ten minutes, maybe less. We'll regroup and pull you out."
Arden wouldn't meet my eyes. Lyra did. Barely.
"That's not a plan," I said. "That's suicide."
"We don't have time to argue," Reyes snapped, already pushing me toward the broken hull. "You want to help the crew? Help them by keeping them alive. Go!"
I stared at Lyra.
She didn't speak.
She kissed me once. Months ago. Whispered promises I believed. Told me she loved my quiet heart, my clever hands.
Now she just looked away.
The last thing I saw before I hit the jungle floor was the blast hatch sealing behind them.
And then the creatures came.
Dark shapes in the mist. Massive. Bone-armored. Hungry.
I ran.
I ran like hell, zigzagging through tangled vines, ducking beneath roots the size of shuttlecraft, leaping over sinkholes that breathed steam like the planet itself was alive.
The dampener on my chest flickered and sputtered. Too much interference. Too much heat.
I could hear them behind me—clicking, growling, the sound of claws on stone. They were tracking me not with tech, but instinct. Hunger. Rage.
Eventually, I couldn't run anymore.
My lungs screamed. My leg buckled. I collapsed beneath a split tree trunk and watched blood drip from my nose to the moss below.
"This is it," I muttered, laughing bitterly.
Left to die.
Alone.
Abandoned.
I closed my eyes.
But the killing blow never came.
Instead, I awoke to the scent of smoke and something herbal.
My body was wrapped in unfamiliar cloth, smeared with salve. The pain was dulled, but not gone. The sky was the same violet—now framed by stone walls and firelight.
And faces.
Not human.
Tall, bronze-skinned figures circled me, speaking in low tones I didn't understand. Their eyes glowed faintly in the dark. Tattoos shimmered along their arms like living circuits.
One of them stepped forward. A woman. Tall. War paint across her jaw. Mistrust etched in every muscle.
She pressed a knife to my throat and spoke a single word.
I didn't understand it then.
But I'd come to learn it meant:
"Why?"