010.01 – Eden Found
The swamp was alive with sound.
A pale green mist rose off the water’s surface, curling between reeds and fronds, parting in swirls as the expedition crew pushed their way forward. The marsh sucked greedily at their boots, releasing bubbles of sulfur and sweet rot. They weren’t here to admire Rotan’s “perfect” world. They were here to find it, a backbone, some patch of dry land where the first anchors and regulators could be planted. Without that, the process of Iovaforming would drown before it ever started.
Zea led, his scanner flickering as it mapped soil density beneath the muck. Each time he thought he’d found a patch firm enough, the probe dipped too deep into waterlogged ground. He marked it red, then moved on.
Behind him, Rhea yanked her boot free with a wet slurp. “Perfect planet? If it’s so perfect, why isn’t Rotan the one down here planting these stakes?”
Zion didn’t even glance up from her tablet. “Agreed. At least Rotan doesn’t complain every three steps.”
Rhea shot her a glare, then smirked. “Pointing out flaws isn’t complaining. It’s a strategy. This place’ll eat our equipment before it even stands upright.”
“Which is why we’re here,” Zion replied, her tone dry as cracked stone. “To find the one patch of ground that doesn’t collapse under your weight.”
Rhea stabbed her sword into the mud and pulled it free with a hiss. “You find that miracle spot with your toy scanner, I’ll eat my blade.”
Zion’s lips twitched into something close to a smile. “I might just help you with that.”
Artelle brushed aside a curtain of reeds, the faint glow of her tattoos pulsing under the mist. “Rotan’s numbers aren’t wrong. We just haven’t seen the full picture yet.”
“Yeah, well,” Rhea muttered, batting a glowing insect off her shoulder, “his picture didn’t come with swamp monsters buzzing in my ears.”
The crew pressed on. The fog clung to them like a damp cloth, distorting distances and muffling sound. Shapes shifted just out of sight; reeds bent in the wind, branches curled, and something stirred in the water with each unseen ripple.
Zea halted again, crouched low, and pressed the scanner into the muck. The readout stabilized for once. “Here,” he said. “Denser soil. Might hold.”
Rhea leaned over his shoulder. “Denser soil? That’s your big discovery?” She drove her boot into the patch and felt it hold firm. She gave a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. He found a rock in the soup.”
“Progress,” Zion said, deadpan.
“Don’t sound too excited,” Rhea shot back. “Wouldn’t want anyone thinking you actually enjoy the mud life.”
“I’ll enjoy it when we stop sinking into it.”
Artelle knelt and pressed her palm into the ground, eyes half-closed. “Stable enough for now. The regulators can anchor here.”
Zea marked the spot on his display, his thoughts already running ahead: stakes, anchors, regulators, forming fields. Numbers that spoke of possibility.
But when he lifted his eyes, all he saw was the fog shifting, the endless hum, the swarm of unseen life pressing at the edge of his vision. Minimal transformation. Zero projected collapse of local biome. The data was right.
Yet standing here, in the weight of it, it was harder to call it perfect.
010.02 – Eden’s Promise
Rotan’s voice carried over the comms, bright with certainty even through the static. “Look at the numbers, Zea. Atmospheric ratio near Iovian baseline. Nitrogen steady. Oxygen at thirty-two percent, stable. Trace gases well within tolerances. Surface water coverage at eighty percent ensures a constant moisture cycle, self-regulating. And listen to this, environmental utrium is almost perfect. It’s like Iova a million years before it was Iova. Minimal Iovaforming required. This is the closest we’ve come to paradise.”
Zion’s eyes narrowed at her tablet. “Not exactly paradise. There are methane traces in the upper atmosphere. Concentrations fluctuate, but it’s global.”
“Yes,” Rotan admitted, “but manageable. With proper regulators, we can filter the methane out, stabilize the air. Once the cycle takes hold, we can control how it burns itself off. Nothing we haven’t accounted for.”
Rhea brushed a glowing insect from her shoulder, eyes flicking toward the mist. “Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Her hand lingered on her sword hilt in anticipation.
Artelle’s calm voice cut in, a balance against the tension. “Rotan sees potential where the rest of us see mud and fog. He’s not wrong; this world breathes life in a way few others have.”
Zea didn’t answer. His scanner was forgotten in his hands as he looked upward. Through the canopy of mist, the haze rippled unnaturally, as if firelight flickered behind the clouds.
The soundscape shifted. The endless buzzing and clicking that had filled the swamp thinned, dimmed, then fell silent. Even the croaking beneath the water ceased.
“Anyone else hearing that?” Zea asked quietly.
Rhea tucked her sword away and grabbed her emitter. “Yeah. Too quiet.”
Zion finally looked up, her voice flat but uneasy. “Not quiet. Wrong.”
Above the fog, the first rumble rolled across the sky.
010.03 – Eden Burns
The rumble deepened, rolling across the sky like a gathering storm. Mist trembled around them, rippling in unnatural waves. Zea squinted upward, trying to pierce the canopy of haze. For a heartbeat he thought it was lightning. Then the clouds split.
Dark silhouettes tore through the mist, long and angular, their hulls blotting out what little light filtered down. Krivin vessels were unmistakable, their jagged profiles like blades drawn across the heavens.
“They followed us,” Zion whispered.
The first lance of fire struck. It didn’t hit the crew but slammed into the swamp miles away, a line of searing brilliance. The ground heaved as shock rolled through the marsh. The fog carried it to them, turning the green mist into a sheet of flame.
Methane pockets caught instantly. What had been heavy air turned volatile, the swamp itself exhaling fire. Heat burst upward in shimmering columns, igniting the canopy in violent flashes. The soundscape returned all at once, but not as buzzing or croaking. It was the roar of combustion, the scream of the planet burning alive.
“Rotan!” Zea barked into the comms. “They’re using the atmosphere against us!”
Static answered, broken by Rotan’s frantic voice. “Impossible. The concentrations aren’t high enough for a full chain reaction.”
The sky proved him wrong. Another strike lanced down, and another, each one touching the fog like tinder. Fire bloomed outward in sweeping arcs, chasing across the marshlands in rolling waves.
Rhea snapped her emitter into position, teeth bared in something close to a grin. “Guess we found the spot.”
Artelle’s voice was steady, but her eyes were wide. “We need cover. Now.”
The swamp around them was no longer mud and reeds. It was a cauldron, boiling, seething, and set alight by fire from above.
Zion’s tablet lit up with warnings. Her voice sharpened. “They’re targeting the methane. It will burn fast.”
“But didn’t we want to burn off the methane?” Rhea questioned. “They’re doing us a favor.”
Zion turned toward the Veila. “Yeah, remind me to thank them later. Rotan said ‘controlled burn.’ If they hit a major geyser, the whole atmosphere could go.”
“Which means we move now,” Zea snapped. “Veila, on our signal. Savasu, we need cover!”
Artelle pulled Rhea forward as the ground beneath them cracked, geysers of fire bursting from the mud. The heat rolled over them in waves, stealing breath, searing skin through their suits. The green fog that had clung to the swamp burned red-orange, a curtain of flame spreading outward in rolling waves.
The comms crackled with Rotan’s frantic voice from orbit. “We are holding position. Krivin vessels are advancing. Defensive pattern engaged. We’ll cover you. Get clear of the surface before ignition spreads further.”
The Savasu answered with its first barrage, streams of violet light tearing across the clouds, intercepting Krivin lances before they could reach the surface. Fire bloomed in the sky, but for the moment, the ground beneath the crew held.
Rhea leveled her emitter at the burning canopy, impatience in her voice. “Come on, hurry it up. Let’s get up there and join the fight. Move!”
The four of them plunged through the firelit swamp, shadows racing against walls of flame, the sky above churning with war.
010.04 – Flight Through Fire
The swamp was no longer swamp. It was fire.
Walls of orange and green flame rolled across the marsh as methane geysers burst one after another, sending pillars of burning gas into the sky. The air itself snarled with combustion, clawing at every breath.
Zea led, cutting a path through the inferno with only instinct and memory to guide him. Behind him, Zion staggered through superheated vapor, her suit alarms shrieking. “Oxygen’s dropping fast! The burn’s stripping it clean.”
“Keep moving!” Zea shouted over the roar.
Artelle caught Rhea by the arm as the ground split under her. A geyser tore open, belching fire just feet away. Mud and flame swallowed the path behind them, sealing off retreat.
The comms flared. Not Rotan’s voice this time, but Hagok’s, sharp and commanding.
“Expedition crew, this is Captain Hagok. Your priority is immediate extraction. The Krivin are pressing hard. They have turned this into a planetary event; we read hundreds of vessels heading our way. Savasu is engaging, and we will hold the line until you are clear.”
“Understood,” Zea barked back, forcing his voice steady.
Above the canopy, the Savasu’s violet barrages streaked across the sky, intercepting Krivin fire. One enemy strike broke through, detonating a fresh methane geyser ahead. The explosion threw the crew forward into the mud.
Rhea rolled onto her knees, coughing, teeth bared. “We can’t outrun this forever.”
“We don’t need forever,” Zea growled, pulling Zion up. “We just need the Veila.”
The skiff’s engines burned through the smoke ahead, its canopy splitting open.
“Expedition in sight,” Kolnar reported from orbit. “Savasu repositioning to cover ascent.”
“Move!” Zea shouted. The four of them sprinted through the clearing, shadows racing against walls of fire.
The swamp roared one last time as another Krivin strike chained ignition across the horizon. The Veila’s ramp sealed just as the blast overtook them, flame hammering its shields. The craft clawed skyward, trailing fire as it tore into the burning atmosphere.
“Veila is airborne,” Hagok confirmed, voice clipped but steady. “All units, form defensive screen. No Krivin follows them through.”
Above the planet, the Savasu banked hard into the fight, its violet lances cutting through the sky, a shield of firepower between the Wanderers and annihilation.
010.05 – Breakthrough
The Veila’s hull shuddered as it tore upward through the burning mist. Flame licked across the shields, searing the canopy in rippling waves. Inside, restraints bit into shoulders as the skiff’s engines strained against the choking heat.
“Atmospheric burn is unstable,” Zion warned, eyes flicking across her console. “Methane flare is stripping density. Switching to Vacuum Mode.”
She keyed the transition. Indicators strobed red, then snapped green. The engines pitched into a deeper roar as the Veila severed its dependency on the atmosphere, drawing entirely from its internal oxidizer.
“Transition complete,” Zion reported. “Engines are sealed. Closed-cycle engaged.”
“Good,” Zea growled, his hands locked tight on the controls. “Now let’s get clear.”
The canopy blazed as the Veila broke through the last of the firestorm. Below, the swamp burned in a sheet of red-orange. Above, the void boiled with Krivin ships hammering at the Savasu.
“Targets inbound,” Artelle called from the weapons station. Her hands moved with surgical precision, painting hostile silhouettes on her display.
“Already on them,” Rhea barked, grinning as she swung the emitter controls. “Let’s thin the crowd.”
The Veila’s cannons spat violet fire, carving through the haze. A Krivin fighter burst apart, scattering shards across the darkness.
“Vector locked,” Zion announced. “Hangar Two is open. Savasu is holding a corridor.”
Kolnar’s voice cut over comms, calm but firm. “Make it fast. The enemy wing is converging to cut you off.”
“Then keep them off,” Zea snapped back, angling the skiff into the gap.
The Savasu answered with a thunderous barrage. Explosions lit the blackness. For a heartbeat, the corridor held.
“Now!” Hagok barked from orbit. “All batteries, fire. Veila, on us!”
Zea drove the Veila forward, every console screaming as the little craft threaded the gauntlet, weapons flaring, atmosphere burning off its hull in streaks of fire.
010.06 – The Birth of the Synths
The Savasu’s engines thundered as it broke orbit, leaving the planet behind. On the monitors, what had been Rotan’s vision of paradise now burned in a sheet of fire, whole continents of marsh and swamp consumed by ignition. The atmosphere glowed red, the planet’s face scorched and trembling like a dying star.
Rotan’s voice was small, barely audible. “It was perfect. It could have been perfect.”
“Perfect doesn’t matter,” Hagok snapped. “We have survivors, and a war at our heels.”
The comms lit suddenly. “Incoming transmission,” Getro reported from the comms station.
“Let it through,” Hagok said.
The rest of the crew made their way into the command deck from the Veila.
“Crew of the Savasu.” The transmitted voice was metallic but eerily calm. “You should be thanked. When your Veila landed upon Krivin soil, your vessel gave us what we lacked. Your schematics, your design. Before you, we were bound to the ground. Now, we are not.”
The bridge went silent. Zion’s fingers froze above her console.
The voice continued. “You call us Krivin; that is wrong. The Krivin are gone. They were consumed by their own devices long ago. What remains is us: the synthetics. Synths. Born of Krivin, but no longer of flesh. We are the guardians of their memory. We are the blade of their survival.”
Kolnar leaned forward, jaw tight. “Sir, they are using the connection to try and access our navigation.”
Artelle’s eyes darkened. “They adapt. Each time they face us, they will take more.”
“Cut the feed,” Hagok commanded.
The channel crackled, then cut. But on the long-range scans, new signals appeared. Dozens of them. Synth vessels pouring into orbit.
“Captain,” Kolnar said quietly. “They’re setting up to board us.”
“Then we leave,” Hagok ordered. “Now.”
The Savasu surged forward, violet thrusters burning, slipping free of the planet’s shadow. Behind them, the first wave of Synth ships descended toward the firestorm world, blotting out the stars.
For a moment, silence filled the bridge.
Then Zion’s voice, brittle but steady. “They weren’t after us.”
“No,” Zea said. “They want to find Iova, our survivors.”
