The Tartarusios crept toward Altea like a wounded leviathan, her engines groaning under a strain they had never been built to carry. With the leap drive out of commission, the backup motors had to do all the work, and the stars outside bled into long silver streaks as the ship dragged herself across the last stretch of void.
"We're approaching Altea's orbit," Bjorn's voice echoed across the dim bridge. "Plasma shields at maximum. Calculating a clear path… breaching orbit in five, four, three, two, one."
The ship shuddered with a deep, guttural sound that rolled through her bones, and then everything went quiet as she settled into a steady orbit. Through the viewport, the planet unfurled beneath them like a sapphire-and-emerald jewel set in black — blue skies, green continents, and oceans that seemed to stretch forever. After years of gray space and sterile steel walls, the colors were almost too vivid to look at. For a moment nobody on the bridge said anything at all.
"It's beautiful," someone finally whispered. "I haven't seen an ocean in ages."
"Me neither," another voice answered softly. "So this is Altea."
"Maria, get back here!" someone barked from the corridor behind them. "We have to get ready — it's lunchtime!"
"I'm coming!" she laughed, and the sound of it rang strangely in the stale air of a ship that had not heard much laughter lately.
Oscar stood at the rail with his eyes locked on the view, and he did not notice Halley until she had stepped up beside him. "We should go down there and take a look," she said. "We never know what might be waiting for us."
He nodded slowly. "Assemble a team and scout the area." He hesitated, and when he went on, the words seemed to taste foreign in his mouth. "Maybe the crew could use this as a weekend. Some air. Some quiet."
"What do you think, Captain?"
"Once you're back," he said, still looking at the planet, "we'll see."
The landing craft skimmed low over an endless expanse of water, and the sunlight cut the waves into silver shards that flashed past the windows faster than anyone could follow.
"Wow," Harry breathed, pressing so close to the glass that his breath fogged it. "So this is the ocean? I've never seen one before." He turned to the others with a grin. "You could drink all the water you want out here!"
Harry was the kind of soldier who still believed in heroes. At twenty, he wore his uniform like a badge of honor that had not yet been stained by cynicism or compromise, and he stood up straight not out of discipline but out of pride, the kind instilled by bedtime stories about noble warriors and by a mother who had packed his duffel bag with trembling hands and whispered, "Make me proud." His chestnut hair was parted neatly to one side out of habit rather than regulation, though it curled at the ends and refused to stay in place, much like Harry himself. His smile came easily and lingered long after the joke had passed.
"Not quite," Halley cut in. "It's saltwater. Drink it and it'll burn your mouth."
"What? Really?"
"Come on, Harry," Vanessa said, rolling her eyes. "How did you not know that?"
Harry's ears went red. "I was born on a meteorite colony. Space, dust and rock. The elders used to tell stories about oceans and skies, but I never saw one. Not until today." He fumbled at his belt for his recorder. "I need a picture to show my mom."
Vanessa burst out laughing. "What a mama's boy."
Vanessa moved through the world like a spark wrapped in velvet. Young, sharp and unapologetically herself, she had the kind of presence that made people sit up straighter, not out of fear but out of curiosity. Her long black hair flowed like ink whenever she turned her head, and she wore it for herself rather than for anyone else, a quiet statement of control in a world that was always asking her to compromise. Her brown eyes were quick and calculating. They judged without lingering — not cruelly, but efficiently — because Vanessa had never seen the point of wasting time on indecision. One raised brow from her could silence a room.
"Hey, what's wrong with that?" Harry shot back.
"Both of you, quiet," Halley snapped. "We're approaching land. Stay sharp."
The craft dropped lower as the coastline rose to meet them, and between the trees of the shore, something moved. It was large enough that at first Vanessa thought the forest itself was shifting.
"What is that?" she asked.
"Where?" Harry said, craning his neck.
"In those trees. It's moving." Her voice had begun to tremble.
They drew closer, and Halley's hand drifted toward her weapon. "It could be an enemy—"
Then the shadow lumbered out into the light, and every one of them forgot how to speak. It was massive and scaled, with a head like a living fortress. Above it a second creature tore at the air on leathery wings wider than the landing craft itself.
"Holy—" Vanessa's eyes went wide. "It's huge."
"I can't believe it," Halley said, and for once she sounded shaken. "That's a dinosaur."
"A what?" Harry asked.
"An ancient reptile. Birds, marine life, all of it. This planet is still in its Mesozoic era."
"There are flying ones too," Vanessa added, watching the winged creature wheel overhead.
Halley's voice turned grim as she took the controls back. "Be careful down there. This planet is beautiful, but its forests will kill you."
Back aboard the Tartarusios, Oscar stood in the dim medbay while the soft pulse of the machines reflected off Youri's pale face, and he rested one hand against the edge of the pod as though that might keep the man inside it from slipping any further away.
"I wish you could see this, Youri," he murmured. "The sun here… you'd have loved it. I promise you'll never have to get in that thing again. Just wake up."
Behind him, near the door, two crew members whispered to each other, thinking he could not hear them.
"The captain's gloomy."
"Yeah. It's because of Youri, isn't it? Are they related?"
"I don't know. When I joined, they were already here, and every time I asked, everyone changed the subject. I think it's complicated."
"Hey, you two!" Nolan's bark cracked through the room. "We've got work to do."
"Yes, sir!" They scattered.
Somewhere in a place between dreams and machines, Youri stirred. A voice he had not heard in a long time was pleading with him inside his head, and it was a voice from the past that he had tried very hard to forget. Why don't you stop? You've lost yourself. You don't have to get in that thing anymore. I'll protect you. I'll tell Father to relieve you of your duties. Just stay. And if you ever get in that thing again, don't ever show your face to me.
I hate dreams, Youri thought, and opened his eyes.
"Captain!" one of the medics called. "Youri has woken up!"
Oscar turned so fast he nearly knocked over a tray. "Youri — are you alright?"
A low groan answered him. "Don't shout, you idiot. I still have my hearing."
"I'm sorry," Oscar said, and the words came out in a rush. "You were forced to pilot that thing because of me—"
"Oscar." Youri's voice was rough but steady. "You know why I chose this life. So why are you apologizing?"
Oscar opened his mouth and found he had no answer. Before he could come up with one, the comm crackled overhead. "Captain, we've got a sight out here. You should come and have a look."
Oscar glanced at Youri, then at the pale light of a strange new sun spilling through the medbay window, and finally at the door. Outside, an entire world was waiting for them.