I woke with a start.

It had been the same dream for the past two months. The same haunting memory was plaguing me and leaving me with a painstaking ache in my chest. There was always a funeral, always a coffin—I remember it so vividly. But it was never my brother laying inside. It was Rooke.

I rubbed my face with my hands, trying to fight the daunting confusion from consuming me. My brother, Jacob, had been gone nine years, nearly ten. It had taken me half that time to accept he’d died, and years to understand his heart was a ticking time bomb ready to strike at any moment. We hadn’t realised he had a heart condition. It was only after he died the coroner discovered his abnormally bulbous heart was diseased.

Rooke had been playing hockey with Jacob when he’d collapsed, dying in his arms just a few minutes later. I still remembered Rooke coming to the house with a police officer. I still remembered how I’d lost all sense of control as I was told the devastating news, and my sobbing became uncontainable. To my surprise, it had been Rooke’s arms comforting me. It was Rooke who sat with me for hours, holding me whilst my mother dealt with the loss in her own way. I’d been fifteen at the time.

Before the events of that agonising night, Rooke had simply been an annoyance to me. Since I was eleven, he had been my older brother’s best friend, and at the time I hated him. For a paranoid  girl  who  was  going  through  the  awkward  stage  of development, he used to taunt and poke fun at me, and my brother endlessly encouraged him.

I grew up resenting him, slowly finding the courage to retaliate and bite back at his comments. Our interactions usually turned into a ping pong match of banter-ish bickering, resulting in me sulking and Rooke grinning when he realised he’d finally won. And he always won.

I smiled at those memories, at how trivial they seemed now. But our relationship had changed entirely the day Jacob died. We’d helped each other through the initial grief, then kept in touch, even when life took us in different directions. It had been Rooke who encouraged me to follow in his footsteps and become a pilot for Solarfleet. It hadn’t taken much persuading.

I pondered the thought, the memories it surfaced, and it still amazed me how my brother’s infuriating, teenage friend, who had bullied me with malice, had won my esteem and respect, and was now a friend—my closest friend. But as the years had trickled by, I’d discovered something deeper about myself. Something about how far my esteem for Rooke went. It had struck me a couple of years ago, when he was considering leaving Solarfleet…

I was in love with him. I’d follow him to the ends of the universe without a second thought. Well, my current situation clearly proved that.

But I could never confess the truth. How could I? He was an attractive man, oozing with confidence and charisma. His girlfriends were stunning, the type of women you’d see in old movies or beauty campaigns. He’d never look at me in the same way he did them. To him, I was his best friend’s little sister, a sister he had adopted and taken under his wing. And I would never allow myself to jeopardise the strong foundation of our platonic and working relationships.

What we had worked.

So, I kept my secret locked up inside, trying to disregard it on a daily basis.

But this recurring dream…it was messing with my head. No matter how hard I tried to bat it away, I couldn’t help thinking something bad was going to happen—that Rooke would be taken from me. There was nothing normal about this mission. It screamed danger and uncertainty from the start. And now that there was a chance we were heading to mythical Earth—my paranoia tripled. I was petrified.

With that thought in mind, I discounted how tired I was. I showered and dressed, immediately heading for the bridge.

Rooke sat alone in front of the wide, curving driving screen. He looked up as I approached. “We’re nearly there.” He inclined his head towards the window before looking down at his handheld computer. I peered into the darkness outside, and sure enough, there in the distance, a spherical object was coming into view. Although it was just a tiny glimmer of light, it was larger and far more defined than any other specks on the vast horizon.

I sat down next to him. “Do you still believe we’re approaching Earth?”

“Yep.” He sounded confident. “Cora sent me a mountain of information on Earth and the ancient Sol system. It’s pretty conclusive.”

“And that doesn’t worry you?”

Rooke searched my face and sat up straighter. “This mission has always been a mystery. I don’t know what to expect, nobody does. So, the fact we have information on our destination must be seen as a benefit.”

“Yes, okay, but…”

“But what, Miss Pessimist?” He smirked.

“But,” I huffed away his teasing, “if the Earth part of the ancient myth is true, so could the horror story about why the human race left. Weren’t there demons roaming the land?”

“It’s been three thousand years. And truths and stories get morphed. I wouldn’t be surprised if our ancestors fled because the land no longer held any nutritional value. If my memory serves me correctly, my science teacher always preached in disgust how the ancients’ antics damaged the biodiversity of the natural ecosystems. I won’t be surprised if we find a barren land full of nothing.”

I lounged back in my chair, a deep resounding sigh escaping me. I wasn’t convinced.

“Don’t worry,” Rooke’s voice chirped. “I’m not taking any risks. We’re taking plenty of weapons down for protection.”

“You sound like we have an army. There are only seven of us.”

“Eden, stop worrying.” He lent forward and squeezed my hand. The green in his eyes twinkled with reassurance. “If I knew you were going to be this finicky, I would’ve left you on Allura.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. “You wouldn’t have dared.”

Pulling his hand away, Rooke chuckled, then glanced towards the doorway. “Speaking of seven, where’s number eight?”

“If you mean Troy, he’s saying his farewells to Cora.”

“Farewells?” Rooke rolled his eyes. “I’m planning on us being away for a day not a month.”

I pouted my lips to one side and shrugged. “They’re in love.”

“Having a quickie in cupboards and behind locked doors is not love.”

“I didn’t realise you were such an expert.”

Rooke threw me a glare, which made me laugh. “Oh, come on, Rooke. They clearly like each other. It’s been going on for months now…”

“Too long, in my opinion.” Rooke huffed. “Just because I’ve graciously turned a blind eye to it, does not mean I encourage it. Nux, if Solarfleet found out, they’d likely reprimand me for allowing it to continue under my command.”

“Solarfleet do allow relationships.”

“Not quickies in cupboards whilst on duty.” He tapped the radio mic on the dashboard in front of him. Well aware he was broadcasting to the whole ship, he announced, “Troy, I don’t care what position you and Cora are currently in, I need you on the bridge. Now.”

I shook my head. “You are so mean.”

Rooke was grinning mischievously. He shrugged. “If they wanted to be discrete, they should’ve done so from the start.”

* * *

Two hours later, a blue and white planet filled the view of the outward windows. I sat at the driving screen, carefully guiding The Orka into orbit. Troy sat beside me, reeling off numbers to aid my task. The task itself was easy, but it had become far more demanding due to the number of old satellites floating across my path. Trying to concentrate, it was hard not to wonder where these satellites had come from. If they were from thousands of years ago, wouldn’t the Kessler effect have happened already?

Not taking my eyes off the screen, I asked, “Has anyone checked if those satellites are live?”

“They’re obsolete,” Rooke’s voice rumbled directly behind me. He stood, watching with his arms across his chest. “Most look damaged.”

Placing the ship at the correct angle, I locked the controls. We were in high orbit, floating around a world that shone with vibrant colours, different to those of Allura. I was in awe. It was beautiful, like nothing I had ever seen before. Earth.

“There’s life down there,” said a firm voice from the control panels behind us. I looked back at the ship’s scientific advisor, Kobe Chang. His tall, slim body was hunched over the screens. His almond shaped eyes frantically scanning the data in front of him.

“A lot?” Rooke asked, striding to his side.

“Yes,” Kobe replied. “I can’t determine what form from this altitude. The planet could be covered in algae for all we know.”

“So, we don’t know what we’re walking into?” I said sceptically.

Rooke shot me a nonappreciative look before analysing the information Kobe was referring to. “We’re still going down.”

Within an hour, we had packed and boarded the smaller, streamline ship attached to the side of The Orka. Parvos bore a sleek set of wings for atmosphere control, and a complex, durable, atmospheric thruster system for flight and take off. The flight deck was at the front of the vessel, sitting up high behind the pointed nose, where the upper section of the outer wall and curving roof space were transparent. The dashboard spanned the width of the small cockpit, leaving only enough room for the two pilot chairs.

I sat in the confined area, initiating the engine start up, rechecking the atmospheric information Kobe had given me. The hubbub of activity and conversation resounded throughout the metallic ship, and I heard delicate footsteps approach. Glancing over my shoulder, I smiled at Zamya, our medical officer, as she emerged in the restricted area.

“I need to check your temperature,” she indicated for me to offer access to my ear, “just in case it drastically changes whilst on the surface.”

“Do you think it will be very different from Allura?”

She zapped my earhole with a gun like contraption. I watched her read and document the result in a handheld computer, pausing to push a strand of silky, black hair behind her ear.

“It looks as though the air will be a tolerable pressure and breathable, but it’s the bacteria that concerns me. I’ve told Rooke we should remain in our suits. I don’t want anyone picking up something I can’t treat.”

“Wise decision.”

“Apparently, I’m full of them today.” She overemphasised the arch of her pristine eyebrows. “I asked Rooke if I could sedate Cora. Her excitement is doing my head in. He critically said no.”

I chuckled. “Cora’s excited. This is every geologist’s dream.”

“It should be every biologist’s dream, but this biologist is full of nauseating anxiety and dread.”

I assessed the look on Zamya’s petite face. The warm brown skin of her forehead appeared sweaty. Her usual hard expression replaced with one of worry and suspense. I tapped her arm. “It’s normal to feel anxious. Cora is just an exception.”

“A lunatic, if you ask me.”

Rooke appeared behind her. “I hope you’re not asking Eden for permission to sedate Cora.”

I rolled my eyes. “As if she would.”

“I would,” Zamya said abruptly, “if it was completely necessary.” She pointed at Rooke. “Don’t tempt me, commander.”

Rooke smirked and ushered her petite frame out of the way. “We’re ready to leave. Go belt up.”

She left while Rooke took his seat to my right. We both clicked our safety harnesses on, placed our radio earpieces over our preferred ear, covering them with our inflight helmets. The dark glass of our visors dispersed the overpowering glare of the sun and bright atmosphere below.

Once the rest of the crew were secure, Troy’s voice came through our earpieces. “De-docking sequence has been successful. You’re ready for departure.”

“Copy that,” I confirmed.

“We’ll keep you posted on our position and situation,” Rooke said to him. “I plan to be back for dinner.”

Troy chuckled. “I’ll make sure it’s ready and waiting.”

“Do you know, Troy,” Rooke chimed, “you’ll make a wonderful housewife one day.”

“Is that a proposal, sir?”

“Nah, you’re not my type. Too hairy.”

Troy laughed.

“In all seriousness, though,” Rooke continued in a more solemn tone, “if we lose contact, you know the procedure.”

“Yep. Thirty-two days.”

“And then you head home.”

There was a pause. One I felt an emotional tug towards. The responsibility to abide by that rule was a harrowing thought to anyone, let alone the twenty-two-year-old we were leaving behind.

“Yes,” Troy finally replied. “Following no contact for thirty-two days, I’ll head back to Allura without you.”

Rooke nodded pensively. I couldn’t help glancing at him. He was nervous, just capable of hiding it well. He snapped out of his short-lived stupor and said, looking my way, “Right. Let’s get this over and done with.”

Within thirty minutes we had made atmosphere entry and I was flying Parvos over a vast blue ocean. The sun was high in a sky of sapphire blue. The signal getting closer.

A vast fringe of land appeared on the horizon, and as it grew

nearer, lush textures of green reaching into the sky came into view, spreading for miles and miles. I’d never seen green trees before. The ones we had back home were yellow or orange, with thick swirling trunks that didn’t reach anywhere as high as the ones I was viewing.

I glanced across at Rooke and said, “A barren land full of nothing, yeah?”

Rooke’s eyes were wide, analysing the glorious sight. He was speechless, shaking his head in awe.

Allura was beautiful, full of gold tinted water and cascades of orange and yellow foliage falling from hillsides and caverns, but it was a poor second to this. Here on Earth, the land was covered in vibrant colours. The sea water was continually changing from sapphire blues to turquoise. The land shone like honey gold along the coastline, transforming into a richer red further inland. The trees were a mix of emerald and lime greens, casting elongated shadows of dark jades and indigos across acres of forest and meadow. The span of both land and ocean were immense, causing a wave of insignificance to fall over me.

“This is insane,” Rooke murmured. The first sound he’d uttered since entry. “Why would anyone leave a land this beautiful?”

“They must have had their reasons.” Which worried me.

Rooke pointed north-eastwards. “The signal is coming from that direction.”

I realigned the ship, lowering our altitude and initiating the thrusters to slow down. We flew over the edge of the land, skimming the coastline. Less than twenty miles along, a large silver shape emerged from behind a dense rockface. We flew past, assessing the scene from above.

Partially submerged under a mound of fallen boulders was the Solarfleet scouting ship, Challenger. The front of the ship had disintegrated into the rockface where jagged metal panels bent backwards at haphazard angles. The rest of the silver body showed signs of breach damage along the lower areas of the hull.

I steadily circled the area, confidently taking us lower with

each pass. “I’d be surprised if anyone survived a crash like that.”

“That’s an atmospheric ship,” Rooke mentioned. “I don’t understand why they crashed. The ground next to the sea edge is flat and wide enough to land on.”

“That ship is old. I doubt it’s been in atmosphere for years. And they could’ve misjudged. The air is humid. It could’ve caused issues with their descent. Humidity isn’t something we’re used to.”

“You don’t seem to be having trouble.”

“Don’t jinx it, Rooke.”

He grinned. “Always the sceptic.”

As I took another pass over the wreckage, Rooke sat forward and pointed to an open area of land further north. “Can you take us down over there?”

“You’re planning on landing already?” I glanced at him, shocked at his premature decision. Standard procedure for any research mission was to scan the area from the air for at least an hour before landing, to give us a better perspective of what to expect on the surface.

“We’ve found the wreckage. Let’s go investigate.”

“Are you sure?”

“This isn’t a standard mission.”

Reluctantly, I nodded, lining the ship up for landing. The honey-gold strip of land, set in between the sea and a steep line of vertical rockfaces was more than twenty miles long and at least half a mile wide. Theoretically, landing should be easy.

With the humidity, the descent was unexpectedly rapid. I felt the ship attempt to slip from my control. Holding my breath, I waited for the landing gear to extend fully. It clicked into place just in time for the wheels to strike the ground. Thankfully, the landing was smooth and resilient. As I pulled the ship to a halt, my heart was thumping against my chest. I slumped back into my chair, finding it hard to release my hold on the driving levers.

Nux, that was close.

Rooke’s  chuckle  echoed  in  my  ear. I glared over at him,

unappreciative of his response. He was grinning at me devilishly. No sign of relief or worry whatsoever. “I knew you could do it.” Taking his helmet off, he stood up and tapped my shoulder. “You’re the best pilot I know.”

As he walked out of the cockpit, I called after him, “And you can be a condescending bastard, Rooke Maddox.”

He looked back and winked before flashing me a teasing smile. It was a good thing I liked him.

After contacting Troy on The Orka to confirm we had landed, I found the crew in the rear-section of the ship, fidgeting into their atmospheric suits. The blue reflective material was light but inflexible. Although streamlined and easy to manoeuvre in, they weren’t the easiest garment to pull on.

Rooke approached offering me a suit. “Kobe’s confirmed the air is nontoxic. Signs of life are primarily in the water with some on land, but not in the direct vicinity.” I eyed him warily. He was trying to convince me his swift tactics were plausible.

Zamya caught my eye. She was still brooding over the situation. It was apparent I wasn’t the only crew member he needed to convince.

Once we were all suited up, our slimline helmets attached, and our oxygen supply compressed, the only way we could communicate was through the radio integrated into our helmets. I watched our two military crew members, Oz and Sym, open the airlock to the rear loading door. They walked down the landing ramp, their large guns raised to attention, scouring the area for any form of hostility. The scientific crew members always referred to these two as The Muscle. I’d known them both for two years.

From behind, the two soldiers looked indistinguishable. Both men were at least six-foot-two with strong shoulders and thick, powerful bodies. Oz was the eldest of the crew. Being thirty-three and from the nation of Qubbos, he had seen his fair share of military action. On Allura, Qubbos’ relations with its neighbour, Eonia, had been tense for centuries. Purely over the ownership of a spit of land dividing them. This had resulted in a fleeting war seven years ago. A truce was put into place, but tensions remained. Armies still patrolled either side of the border, and the occasional fight broke out. Oz had been one of those soldiers. The scar that ran down the left side of his jaw, across his ear and neck, was evidence enough of his past commitment. He looked menacing with his multitude of tattoos and shaven hair. His bright, narrow eyes were always surveying, calculating. His presence intimidated me on a good day.

Sym, on the other hand, was a friendly giant. He was the same age as me, twenty-five, and had only ever served as a soldier in Solarfleet, employed purely for crew protection. He was constantly humming or smiling, showing off his perfect white teeth. There was nothing malicious about him. Rooke continuously teased him about his choice of hairstyle, which currently was an afro mohawk with shaven zigzags around the sides, but it suited him. Not that you could see it now. I could only work out who was who because Oz insisted on going first.

I followed Rooke down the ramp, the sunlight bright and warm. As I touched my booted feet to the honey-gold, grained surface at the bottom, I noticed it twinkled, resembling billions of stars. Some particles danced across the surface when caught by the breeze, swirling up into mini tornadoes. Cora bent down next to me and brushed the texture between her gloved fingers. Looking up, she was full to the brim with excitement. “It’s like fairy dust.”

“I highly doubt we’ll find fairies.”

She scooped a sample into a glass pot and stood up. “You never know. This could be where dreams are made.”

Or nightmares.

My eyes scanned the area. Anxiety still gnawing at my instincts. But I couldn’t deny it, this place had an enchanting aura about it. The blue sea glistened as gentle waves crashed against the ground less than half a mile in the distance. Opposite, the steep tanned cliffs looked as though they were topped with short blades of green grass, and deep pink flowers were visible in amongst the rocks where the rockface dipped towards the ground.

Rooke was leading the group towards that area. The boulders had formed a cascade of steps and it looked climbable. I remotely closed the ramp up securing the ship and rushed after him. “What’s the plan, Rooke?”

He pointed ahead. “If we ascend the cliff, the wreckage is only a two mile walk southeast.” Fully focused, he marched on, and I clutched my laser rifle a little tighter.

When we arrived at the wreckage, the damage was far worse than first assumed. Looking down from the clifftop above, scorch marks littered the roof of the long, bulbous shaped ship. Melted and deformed metal dominated the port side.

The scouting ship was as large as The Orka, and they tended to hold an immense amount of fuel. Their slow scouting journey around the perimeter of the Alluran solar system took more than half a year to complete, and as the sun was only a speck in the distance, solar power was useless. It was the only feasible reason for how they’d lasted the five-month journey here. The excess fuel must have caused the fire.

Carefully, we climbed down the craggy rockface onto the top of the ship, avoiding the sharp fragments of metal scattered along the obliterated front edge. Our boots clonked along the metallic body. If any of the crew were alive, they didn’t come out to greet us.

We descended the ship via the back body flap. The long, tilted piece of metal was closer to the ground due to the impact of the crash. The two-metre drop was easy enough, but I helped Cora down anyway. She was now laden with more glass pots clipped to her belt. All filled with soil, rocks, plants, and anything else that had taken her fancy. She was clearly in her element.

The sound of Oz and Rooke cursing through the radio brought my attention to where they had disappeared to. I found them standing on the starboard side of the ship next to an extended ramp. The side airlock was open, the ship was exposed, but it was the disturbing trail of dark red smeared down the ramp that caught everyone’s attention.

Zamya hovered at the base, while Rooke and Oz boarded the ramp vigilantly. Rooke glanced back at the rest of us. “Sym, Kobe, stay out here. Keep your eyes peeled.”

Both men turned their backs to the ship, guns in check, scouring the area with sharp eyes.

I followed Rooke and Oz onto the ship, Cora and Zamya at my back. All of us tried to avoid stepping in the trail of what looked like blood.

The ship was dark. The airlock doors stuck open at an odd angle, and panels of the interior metal walls were missing. I glanced at my feet. The dark smear on the floor became thicker as we walked further into the mid-section of the wide hull.

Rooke and Oz stopped a few steps ahead, peering at the ground. I realised they were questioning how or why fragments of the floor were missing, similar to those on the walls. I removed my torch from my belt and lit up the floor surrounding me. The panels looked as though they’d been chewed. But how? They were metal. What could eradicate metal in such a way?

Still questioning the thought, I flashed my torch light around the vast area. A bone chilling shiver raked its way down my spine at the scene before me. My gasp caught Rooke’s attention, his eyes discovering what was looming at the end of my spotlight.

The remains of a mauled body laid on the floor. Their grey-blue clothing indicated the deceased had been a Solarfleet employee. We slowly approached, anxiously flicking our eyes in the direction of every shadow and dark corner.

I glanced down at the decaying body. It must have been there for at least a couple of weeks. Blue and black patches plagued the sunken skin. Long, scraggly hair fell across the harrowing face where two eyes bulged unnaturally. The neck was punctured by multiple marks, exposing rotten muscle and bone beneath. The look of immense pain was frozen across the decomposing face. But the worst of it was the realisation that both legs had been ripped off at the thigh. Torn muscle, ligament, and clothing surrounded jagged, fractured bone. The red smear on the ramp had originated from this spot. This person’s legs had been shredded from their body and dragged from the ship. The thought was horrifying.

Cora’s distressed voice split through the haunting silence. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” She ran for the exit.

Zamya called after her, “Do not remove your helmet!” The only response was a whining hum.

Examining the corpse closer, Zamya bent down. “This is utterly barbaric.”

Rooke scanned the area. “Where are the other crew members?” A hint of desperation coated his tone. “There should be four.”

“Boss, there’s one over here,” Oz’s voice rumbled through my earpiece. He was standing in the corner of the room, behind what remained of a computer station. “This one looks like their spinal cord has been ripped out.”

Somehow my legs managed to follow Rooke over to the second body. The sight was just as horrifying as the first. Decomposing guts lay in a puddle surrounding a body that had fallen face down, split in half. Now I wanted to vomit.

I looked at Rooke. His mind was in overdrive. He hadn’t expected this. To be honest, neither had I. I had expected something eerie or inconclusive, but nothing this distressing. What had killed these people?

“Rooke, we need to get out of here as soon as possible,” I said.

Breathing deeply, he nodded his concurrence. “We can’t take these mutilated bodies home. They need to be buried here.”

“Agreed,” Oz murmured. He appeared to be the only one unaffected by the scene. “I’ll get Sym to help me dig a couple of graves outside.”

Rooke nodded and turned to me. “Let’s see if we can find any captain records or ship data. We can’t return home without some form of explanation.”