Doryn 7 appeared to be an insignificant sphere of dark grey rock, heavily pocked with impact craters, from orbit. In some areas, slow-moving rivers of elemental mercury gushed from the planet's crust, while methane geysers occasionally erupted violently from the larger craters' depths. In order to feed the live image to the main bridge viewer, Nora panned the Kyara's exterior cameras across the desolate surface.
"Lovely place," said Nayla sardonically. Her feet were crossed casually on the console dashboard as she relaxed in her diagnostics station chair.
The camera swiveled up to show a line of ships lumbering toward the planet's surface, their precise locations obscured by the horizon. Dramatic backlighting from the system's binary suns made the descending ships stand out against the planet's curved crest as stark black silhouettes. The scene was so starkly beautiful that Nora pressed a button on her control panel.
"Image saved," the ship's computer said, breaking the stunned silence that had descended on the bridge crew of the Kyara for a moment.
From Doryn 7's air traffic control, a voice crackled over the open communications channel. According to our readings, you are holding in geosynchronous orbit, roughly 0.27 astronomical units away from the designated landing approach, unidentified vessel. Please provide your identity. The male voice had a composed authority tone that was a little muffled by transmission noise.
Kieran answered sharply. "This is Kyara from Hyperspace Research Ship, Doryn Control. HRX-505 registration.
"505—copy that. Please list your passenger complement, weapons, and cargo.
"Registered weapons and supplies required for an indefinite period of space travel make up the cargo. According to Core military protocols, weapons are categorized. Seven human beings make up the passenger complement: three men and four women.
There was a moment's silence. "Verifying the HRX-505 registration... Well, hi, Mr. Ravy. You have been cleared for priority landing, according to our records. Kindly head straight to landing area 9061 Theta. Sending coordinates right now.
Kieran's face flashed a puzzled expression. "HRX-505 to Doryn Control, confirming: no requirement to join the standard landing queue?"
Not at all, Mr. Ravy. All of your clearance documents have been verified. Head straight to 9061 Theta, the landing area. Your host is anticipating your arrival.
"Control, copy that. HRX-505 is out. Kieran closed the channel with a few keystrokes. Luna communicated the landing coordinates to Kieran's pilot station while keeping an eye on the communications panel.
"What was that all about?" Surprised by the quick clearance, Nora inquired.
"Remind me to shake Mr. Zolvaris's hand when we land," Kieran said, pointing to the audience as the long line of ships went slowly below the horizon. "That landing queue looks at least three hours long." In order to gain a better view of their destination, he activated the main thrusters and pushed the Kyara forward while keeping it aloft.
Slowly, Doryn Station emerged, taking over the landscape below. Serving one of the wealthiest mining worlds in the known Galaxy, it was the largest settlement on the planet, a fully enclosed city, and a significant center for interstellar trade. The station itself seemed to have been literally grown from the solid rock crust of the planet, demonstrating an incredible feat of bio-engineering. Only the enormous access hatches that punctuated its exterior revealed its presence, as it almost disappeared into the grey landscape. A central mountain peak was surrounded by twelve enormous tendrils that resembled roots. From these main stems, smaller mounds branched in complex leaf-like patterns before tapering down and reintegrating into the surrounding rockscape. The main spaceport and docking facility was a massive spire pointing toward the planet's north pole; in contrast to the other eleven tendrils, which had hundreds of smaller branches, the spaceport spire had relatively few. The main tendrils were topped by Titanic access hatches, which were positioned approximately every kilometer, while their sides were dotted with smaller hatches. Each hatch was painted a bright, luminescent yellow and displayed a four-digit number followed by a letter designation. The surfaces of the non-spaceport tendrils were covered in intricate, swirling Srenyei tribal patterns created by the same glowing paint. The overall impression of the station was that of a gigantic, terrified monster covering hundreds of square kilometers.
The entire forward viewport was filled by the city's sheer size as the Kyara drew closer. The stunned silence of the crew was broken by another computerized chirp: "Image saved."
Kieran steered the ship into position just outside the bay doors two minutes later. The final approach had been surprisingly chaotic, with several overly aggressive freighter captains vying for position in the congested airspace, and only careful piloting had avoided collisions. The enormous doors started to smoothly fold inward, retracting into the rock face as the numbers 9061-T glowed brilliantly in front of them. Using the maneuvering thrusters with caution, Kieran pushed the Kyara in at a mere 2.5 percent of the normal atmospheric approach speed.
It turned out to be a gigantic airlock at the entrance. A second set of identical doors closed behind them, and then there was the characteristic hissing sound of atmosphere entering the room. The Kyara's occupants were momentarily blinded when the outer doors were completely closed and bright white floodlights turned on. The inner doors slid open, revealing an equally bright interior chamber, and the hissing ceased. This large circular landing bay had a high domed ceiling. The walls were flawlessly smooth, white composite material, and the floor was heat-resistant tarmac with yellow guidance lines. Two spaces were available because nine other boats of different sizes were already parked in approved areas around the perimeter. Under the expert guidance of a black-coveralled ground technician brandishing two illuminated marshaling wands, Kieran navigated to the empty space on the left.
Three figures were waiting close to the empty parking lot, sandwiched between a plain white cargo van and a bigger passenger van. Details sharpened as Kieran drew the Kyara closer. The two people on either side of the main figure were dressed in tactical grey vests, tinted sunglasses, plain blue t-shirts, and grey fatigue pants. They carried their weapons in plain sight and were always on guard, their eyes systematically searching the hangar for danger. A fourth guard in the same uniform stood idly by the corner closest to Kieran's assigned landing spot, and another watched the personnel access door at the back of the bay.
Standing between the two guards by the cars, the fifth figure appeared completely out of place. Wearing faded green cargo shorts, basic sandals, and a loud tie-dye t-shirt, he leaned idly against the passenger van's hood. A bright red headband held his long blond hair back in a loose ponytail, out of his eyes. One wrist was adorned with a battered leather bracelet, and his eyes were protected by blue-tinted sunglasses.
"Hmm, wonder which one is Zayn?" Yan thought aloud, his brow furrowed in mock bewilderment, and he stroked the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. Nora led the group down the long ramp to meet their host, and Kieran made his routine landing, firm but safe.
The man, dressed casually, pushed himself out of the van and greeted them with open arms at the bottom of the ramp. Nora and he embraced, and she surprised her friends by kissing him on the cheek, the first overt sign of affection they had seen her show. Following a brief exchange of quiet words, Nora motioned for the others to join them.
Zayn Zolvaris was a strange sight up close. Despite his average height, he had a strong, athletic build that suggested a combination of strength and agility, resembling a cross between a sprinter and a linebacker. His eyes, which were partially hidden by the sunglasses, appeared to be bright and full of positive energy. The man had an easy satisfaction, as though life itself was a continual source of laughter. His smile was broad, contagious, and inexplicable; the six newcomers found themselves grinning back nearly uncontrollably. Zayn wore the same amulet around his neck that Nora always wore: a plain steel peace symbol hanging on a long black cord. His face was covered in light blond stubble, which suggested he wasn't sure if he wanted to grow a beard. From the corner of his right eyebrow all the way down to his jawline was an old, faded scar. He had a strong, distinctive Australian accent when he spoke.
"'Allo, mates!" Zayn gave them a warm welcome. "Nora 'ere tells me you're lookin' for a place to 'unker down for a bit." He moved down their involuntary line, giving each person a firm handshake before embracing them for a quick, cordial embrace. Then, without introducing himself, he named them all, shocking them even more. Mista Kieran Ravy, Miss Amelina Caryn, Miss Nayla Zantara, Miss Luna Trevyn, Mista Yan Zantara, and Mista Okani. I'm glad to have met you all. Call me Zayn. He smiled widely.
There was no immediate reaction from his astonished new acquaintances. Zayn's eyebrow went up. "Quiet bunch, are we?"
"Jet lag," Luna said sardonically.