Part I

Prelude

Translated Alien ship log.

Expedition from planet Pelosia.

Scribe: Amun.

Day 1: We touched down on a beautiful, temperate planet. There are waterfalls, lakes, and green mountains. The only thing reminiscent of Pelosia are the sand dunes leading to the huge lake near our landing place. Though, the lakes have all dried up back home. Why do I even call it that anymore? It’s not home and hasn’t been since I boarded the ship six months ago. I’m happy my name was chosen for planet five’s exploration team, as four and six are less hospitable in appearance and readings. Favor to the team we dropped on four, but I surmise we’ll make our final settlement on planet five. Maybe they’ll name it after me, Planet Amun. I like it.

We landed on the far side of a field, at the foot of a range of mountains that seems to split the dark and light sides of this planet. The crops seem to be thriving in the constant sun. They’re tall and stalky, with bright-green leaves going in every which direction. Most importantly, we can grow food. Father is happy about that.

There doesn’t appear to be much wildlife. We’ve spotted what we’d classify as some type of livestock, but our sensors are picking up a semi-complex language, and they’re clothed. Tonight, we’re going to sleep on the ship. The techs want to run tests on the oxygen and such. We all need rest. We’ve been up the last cycle and a half, dropping the other team as well as preparing for touchdown. I’m excited to be on land again. So excited, I don’t know if I can sleep.

Pelosin ship log, Day 2: The oxygen checked out for our exploration. The radiation levels are much lower than Pelosia. We may really thrive here. Our team hit the soil and my father was on his knees. I could hear his hysterical laugh starting, the one that said he’d made it as far as he could go and a few more days on the ship and he would’ve snapped. He pulled himself together as we met a few of the locals, the Clothed Livestock, as we’re calling them. Hopefully, they can’t translate that. They were calm, gentle beings, out harvesting some of those stalks from the field. They treated us with suspicion at first—who wouldn’t?—but weren’t hostile. They didn’t seem prepared to fight and the only thing that resembled weapons were these short-handled tools they used to shuck the stalks clean. We offered them some of our last livestock jerky as a gift. They declined and my father was slapping his head, realizing they are likely herbivores. We’ll try again tomorrow.

Pelosin ship log, Day 3: Success. They accepted our gift of dried thistle-weed and exchanged some of the crop they’d been harvesting. Good thing because none of us could stand another bite of the thistle-weed. They ate it on the spot. Good fortune to them because that stuff is nothing but fiber.

I spent the better part of the day speaking with them. They call themselves Wyans. The planet as well. There are many more in the next village over. It’s only a few miles down the path. I’ll be going tomorrow, escorted by my new friend Balowg. He was very excited to talk to me and it sped our process along much quicker since the others have been less willing to communicate. There is so much we can learn from each other. I have no more time to write. I need to continue piecing together their words in my dictionary. It’s small now, but by tomorrow it will be expanding and so on.

Pelosin ship log, Day 4: The other village is much bigger. I was a little overwhelmed but Balowg kept things peaceful. I’ve found they are indeed herbivores, right down to eating the trees themselves. They are peaceful, as far as I could tell. Balowg told me they were just fearful of new encounters. We’ll learn to live together. I tried to explain that there are more of us on their neighboring planet, but each time I did, they’d just say “Melinger” and wave it off. I’m furiously putting all this in my dictionary. I have an idea what it means but I don’t want to embarrass myself just yet.

My father has been communicating with our party on Planet Four. We’ll be out to get them soon as it sounds like they are having less luck than us. It was expected, but the Wyans have made our plans to visit Planet Six less of a priority. My father has called for colonizing already, only a few days in. The others in leadership have opposing ideas, but the data is there. Wyan is habitable.

Pelosin ship log, Day 4: Today was weirder. The hospitality from the townspeople changed. The progress I felt I was making yesterday reverted. Only Balowg would give me a minute. He seemed like he was in a hurry. He kept saying, “Mal-dirum, Mal-dirum.” Which I deciphered to mean, “the night comes.” When I lay it all out, it makes sense. Melinger, the planet, is just a dark spot in the sky to them. They don’t have telescopes or anything similar. Wyan mostly faces the sun. Melinger does the same, so it would just be a black shadow in the sky to them when it’s close enough to see. They may not even realize it’s a planet. I’m hoping when I share this information with them, they’ll understand and give me their trust. Back to Mal-dirum, or, the night comes. From our observations, Wyan rotates just enough to occasionally have nighttime. It’s very uncommon, as it was on Pelosia toward the end. Some of the kids here may have never seen night. Unless they went to the other side of those mountains, that is. For them, the night is likely a frightening thing, maybe even a superstition or religious experience as witnessed in lower intelligent lifeforms. If we could just explain to them it’s a simple rotational pattern, I think they’d understand. For now, they’re all afraid of the dark and have locked themselves in. Tomorrow, I’ll try again, but it is getting darker. I’m not sure how long it will last. The shadows have reached the ship as I write. Father told everyone to be in by the time they covered the fields. Looking out at the fields from my viewpoint, it’s like a giant darkness has overtaken their crops. This is probably why the Wyans hate it, their precious crops, their…

I must have been staring at this screen for too long. The shadows in the field look like they’re moving. Even the crops…no, the crops are tumbling down in places. Are the Wyans making one last effort to harvest these crops before night? No. I’ve never seen any of them move that fast.

~ * ~

I locked the door to my quarters. I saw…I don’t know what it was but Marlay was coming back from the field when a shadow swooped over him. His scream made my whole body shake. It was so short though. Within seconds he stopped, then I heard Jualan. It was the same process, a quick scream, then silence, only. Jualan is down the hall, or was. No one is answering the coms. Something is on the ship. I can hear footsteps outside the door. I… (end of log)

Chapter One

–Ship manifest for the Mack–

Returning crew:

Captain Williams: Pilot

Lana: Mission Chief

Walters: Panel Tech

Percy: Mechanic

Julie: Medic

Wyan Ambassadors:

Bruuth

Doth

Gow’on

Belt Refugees:

Captain Davis: Pilot

Arjen: Mission Chief

Isolde: Crew Chief

Admani: Scientist/Medic

Marlin: Panel Tech

Peter: Security Guard

Zane: Earthling

Marlow: Earthling

Avani: Child of Marlow and Zane

It was almost eight weeks since they’d left the Belt when Marlow stood anxiously by the door to the cryo-room. Avani bounced in her arms. Her slick of dark hair was fuller and fluffier, and Marlow didn’t think she could ever bring herself to cut it. She ran a hand through it, tufting it into a mohawk-pompadour combo, then mashing it back down. Avani reached up, swinging a chubby hand that opened and closed, trying to grasp onto something.

“You ready to see your daddy?” Marlow cringed at her own comment.

Zane was Avani’s dad, that was true. How he became her dad? Well, that would be a weird conversation, but the more she thought about it, nothing about Avani’s childhood would be “normal.” Not even Belt-normal. They were hurtling through space toward a planet they’d never seen before, full of aliens who would view them as the extraterrestrials. Their mission—as Lana explained it over the past month and a half—was to join in with the Wyan people and gain their trust, so together, they could fight the wicked, monstrous Night Chasers and stop them from killing every living thing on the planet.

Marlow was pretty sure explaining that Avani’s dad was just a good friend, albeit a gay friend, wouldn’t be anywhere near the weirdest, or hardest part of her upbringing. Hell, having Zane and his boyfriend Peter around wouldn’t bother her in the least. Her arms needed a break. Babies were not built for space travel.

The big door cranked open and Lana stepped out.

“How are they?” said Marlow, peering over her shoulder.

“Coming along nicely,” said Lana. “Hand me Avani and you can go in.”

She handed Avani over and entered the cryo-room. It was warm and oddly humid, smelling musty. The crew was spread around, most of them propped against the walls as their muscles were getting used to movement once again.

“Zane.” Marlow spotted him in the low lighting and went over to find him gazing at Peter, their hands on top of each other’s. Their movements were much like Avani’s and it made Marlow laugh. She pulled Zane in for a hug then made sure he didn’t slump over when she let him go. “I have so much to tell you.”

He nodded and forced his cheeks into a smile. She could see Avani’s eyes in his face. She hadn’t had the chance to notice it before in the whirlwind of leaving the Belt.

“I’ll let you recover a bit, but we have a lot to talk about.”

He mumbled something and pointed to her head.

“Yeah,” said Marlow. “I cut my hair. Avani was pulling it.”

He smiled bigger.

“Wass-thah?” said Arjen, a few feet away next to Isolde.

Marlow pointed a finger at him. “Your girlfriend…” then shook her head. “Never mind. We’ll talk. We’ll all talk. I’m happy you’re all awake again.”

Ice slumped a hand onto Marlow’s leg and winked at her. Marlow wasn’t sure if the wink was purposeful as it never seemed to end.

“Okay, I’ll be back.”

There was a slurred yell from across the room. “Gets your hand out of my lap, Purse.”

“It’s Percy,” someone yelled back, “and I’m trying.”

Marlow shook her head as she walked out.

~*~

The group gathered around the conference table much like they had before the cryo-sleep, only now, many things had changed. As word of the Night Chasers filtered through the room, the unrest began seeping into their pores.

The room was split in two. The Belt crew was on one side: Marlow and Zane from Earth, their daughter Avani, the gatherers Arjen and Ice, Captain Davis, Marlin the NutrientPanel tech, Peter from belt security, and Admani the scientist and older sister of Ice. Lana’s crew was on the other side: Captain Williams, Julie the medic, Percy the mechanic, and Walters the former ‘Panel tech who found real food rendered his job obsolete. It was a reality that Marlin would soon have to endure. The Wyans were missing from the meeting as Lana explained the travel made them sick. They needed to be back on their own soil as soon as possible. Thankfully, that was only a few days away.

Lana stood in front of them. “We have a lot to discuss.”

“Damn right we do,” said Zane. “You lied to us.”

“Now,” started Arjen. He stood at the head of the table, one of his feet near Lana’s team with another by Ice and the rest. There was a strong, metaphoric tug-of-war going on inside his chest.

“No,” Zane cut him off. “We had it good in the Belt. We could’ve tried to work through our differences and—”

“They assaulted me and cut Avani out of me against my will.” Marlow’s eyes were on fire. “I couldn’t ever work through that. Not in my life.”

Zane turned, raising a hand to make a point, the same point he’d tried to make when Arjen and Ice first found them on Earth. “How can we trust her?”

“We’ve worked it out,” said Marlow. “She did lie. Apparently, that’s what everyone does to get you to trust them.” She glared at Arjen as she spoke. “But now we’re heading for Wyan and there’s not much we can do about it.”

“Mar…”

“I’m not going back to the Belt, Zane.”

“I know.”

“So, hear Lana out.”

Marlin spoke up. “You may remember, Little Earthling, that we’re not all fighters like you. What are we supposed to do against these Night Chasers?”

“If you’d just let me speak.” Lana crossed her arms.

“Yes,” said Arjen. “Everyone give her a chance.”

“Easy for you to say,” said Peter, crossing his arms. “You’re fucking her.”

“All right.” Lana put a hand through her hair.

Her determined eyes searched the ceiling for an answer. “I understand some of you feel like this was all a bait and switch, but you have to see the bigger picture. When you left the Belt, you thought you were just going to live on someone else’s planet as a foreigner, an immigrant, but hear me out: the Wyans are a peaceful, docile race. If we help them solve their problem, we become citizens of their planet. We don’t just live on their land. We get our own land. This is better than the Belt. We can start a real colony of humans again without the problems they’re having back in the Belt.”

The room grew silent before Captain Williams cleared his throat.

“If I may. Our crew found this planet on the verge of our own deaths. There were ten of us then and five of us when we came back. We need you, but you need us. We know the land, the people, some of the language, and we know what it takes to save them, to protect them, but we’ll need all of us working together to pull it off. It won’t be easy and it’s highly unlikely we all make it to the other side, but Lana’s not telling you the full reward. If we can put an end to the Night Chasers, we won’t just be citizens of Wyan, we’ll be kings.”