The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the alien valley as Elisa, Pom, Maximilian, Mei, and Ervin crouched at the edge of a rocky ridge, surveying the outpost below. The valley had an unnatural stillness, the air thick with tension as they studied the scene.
ARI had already circled the area, mapping the terrain. The HUD displays in their helmets showed a rough layout—smaller buildings scattered around the giant urchin-like central structure, clusters of mushroom plants and stalky red shrubs arranged in orderly rows, and a small stream that cut through the settlement.
“There’s no obvious movement,” ARI reported through their comms, “but the central structure has a slightly elevated heat signature compared to the others. I cannot determine what is inside.”
Maximilian adjusted his rifle strap and peered through his binoculars. “That main building is big enough to be a dwelling of some kind. The others? Storage, maybe. Workshops. No windows that I can see.”
Mei frowned. “No signs of life at all?”
“None,” ARI confirmed. “If there are inhabitants, they are either concealed or absent.”
Ervin shifted uneasily. “This place is too structured, too well-organized to be abandoned.”
Elisa exhaled slowly, thinking. “We shouldn’t just stroll in through this open terrain. We better move in cautiously.”
Maximilian nodded. “There’s a slope to the north, partially obscured by boulders. If we circle around, we can use them for cover.”
No one objected. Moving quietly, they turned north, keeping low as they navigated the uneven ground. The terrain was rocky, with patches of red fungal growths breaking through cracks in the dry earth.
ARI’s drone maintained its distance, shadowing their movements from above but refraining from flying too close to the settlement. The last thing they wanted was to alert anyone—or anything—that might be inside.
As they neared the outpost, they passed through fields of strange mushroom-like growths. The plants varied in shape—some had tall, thin stalks topped with bulbous caps, while others were squat, round things with coral-like textures. Some glowed faintly, their surfaces pulsing with bioluminescent veins. Others bore thick, fleshy bulbs, almost like the blue fruit they had seen before, but larger and unopened.
“This place is incredible,” Mei whispered, crouching to examine a spiraling stalk that curled toward the sky. Its surface was covered in delicate, fern-like protrusions, swaying gently in the faint breeze.
Pom, standing guard nearby, shuddered. “Yeah, incredible. And creepy.”
Maximilian kept his rifle ready. “Stay focused. This place is too quiet.”
They moved deeper into the outpost, weaving between the strange flora. The structures ahead loomed larger now, their surfaces rough and coral-like, grown rather than built. The largest of them, the central sea-urchin-like structure, had an open entrance at ground level—a wide, irregular archway leading into dimness. Its surface was pockmarked with red cavities, some large enough to be potential windows or vents.
Elisa signaled for them to stop. They took cover behind a cluster of large, root-like formations that jutted from the ground, partially obscuring them from view. She glanced at ARI’s map on her HUD—still no sign of movement.
“Do we announce ourselves?” Ervin asked in a low voice.
Maximilian shook his head. “Not yet. We get closer, see what we’re dealing with first.”
Elisa hesitated, looking toward the dark entrance of the main structure. The air felt thick with something unspoken, an eerie silence pressing down on them.
“Let’s move in,” she said finally.
Weapons ready, they crept forward, toward the archway in the central structure.
As they approached, something shifted in the shadows of the doorway. A figure emerged—tall and draped in flowing, dust-colored robes, its face concealed beneath a reflective mask.
Pom sucked in a breath and instinctively tightened his grip on his rifle. Another figure appeared beside the first, then a third. More emerged from the side buildings, stepping into the late afternoon sunlight with an eerie calm. There were at least half a dozen of them now, standing still, watching.
“Contact,” Maximilian snapped, raising his rifle. “Weapons up.”
Elisa hesitated, raising a hand. “Wait—don’t—”
Maximilian had already taken a step forward, aiming directly at the nearest figure. The alien—if that’s what it was—made no move to flee or defend itself. It simply stood there, robes shifting slightly in the wind.
None of them moved.
Pom, standing slightly behind Maximilian, muttered, “They’re not scared.”
Mei swallowed hard, eyes darting between the hooded figures. “Should they be?”
Elisa forced herself to breathe. The entire team had trained for survival, for colonization, for handling disasters. But not for this. No one had ever prepared for this. First contact was a concept discussed in abstract, but never seriously considered—because there had never been any sign, ever, that intelligent alien life existed. Even the telltale sign of alien vegetation and anomalous crystals had been too abstract to prepare the crew for an encounter with something vaguely humanoid.
“Who are you?” Ervin called out, voice steady but uncertain. “Can you understand us?”
No response. The figures stood motionless.
Maximilian narrowed his eyes. “Pom, keep them covered. I’m checking the structure. If they try anything, drop them.”
Pom hesitated but nodded, keeping his rifle at a ready position, watching for any sudden moves.
Maximilian stepped past the first line of figures and entered the central building. The interior was dim, but as his eyes adjusted, he saw movement—more figures within, sitting or kneeling on a coral-like floor, huddled together in small groups. There was little inside except a few crude furnishings, woven mats, tools made of a bronze-like alloy, and what looked like dried foodstuffs stacked against the walls. Everything about it spoke of scarcity, of a people living on the edge of survival. But what caught Maximilian’s attention the most was a battered, rusted console at the far end of the room—barely recognizable as human technology.
“Come out,” Maximilian ordered, his voice sharp. “Now.”
There was a moment’s pause. Then, from the back of the chamber, another figure rose. This one was different.
Draped in dark robes embroidered with intricate thread patterns, the humanoid creature moved with slow, deliberate grace. The other aliens made way for them as they approached. When they stepped into the light of the entrance, their mask was unlike the others—ornate, marked with faint lines of color, and polished to a perfect reflective sheen.
Maximilian motioned them forward, stepping back out of the structure. The dark-robed figure followed, flanked by two of the others.
“They’ve got human tech,” Maximilian said flatly as he rejoined the group, nodding toward the structure. “Old stuff. A console. Maybe salvage.”
Elisa’s stomach twisted. “How old?”
“Hard to say,” Maximilian muttered. “But it could be ours.”
At that, ARI’s drone hovered slightly lower, its sensors whirring audibly. “Then we must confront them with the obvious. They are broadcasting a human distress signal.”
Elisa turned back toward the hooded figures, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut.
In the fading light of late afternoon, an uneasy calm fell over the alien outpost. Elisa, Ervin, and ARI stood with their weapons lowered but ready, facing the assembly of hooded figures. The aliens—draped in formal, tattered robes with cowls obscuring their features behind reflective faceplates—formed a neat semicircle. Their stance was dignified, their posture rigid and expectant.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Are you human?” she asked, this time directing the question at the dark-robed one. “Do you understand us?”
The figure in black tilted its head slightly. Elisa could feel the weight of its gaze, even through the mirrored faceplate.
“Yes,” it said, its words deliberate, and unmistakably in their language. “We understand.”
The air between them was heavy with tension, the golden light of the setting sun casting long shadows over the alien settlement. The black-robed figure stood motionless, its reflective mask giving no indication of emotion or thought. The others remained eerily still, waiting.
Maximilian kept his rifle at a low ready, but his posture was taut, wary. “Well?” he said finally. “You understand us. What now?”
The alien spoke again, its voice smooth, measured, and formal. “You have arrived at last.” It inclined its head slightly, as if acknowledging some unstated arrangement.
Elisa exchanged glances with Mei and Ervin. “At last?” she repeated. “You were expecting us?”
The figure tilted its head. “You are human.”
There was a long pause. Maximilian tensed. “What of it?”
The alien hesitated for a fraction of a second—its first break in composure. “We assumed you were aligned,” it said finally, in a way that was both a statement and an expectation.
A cold sensation curled in Elisa’s stomach. Aligned with what? “We are survivors,” she said carefully. “From the Dolya. A colony vessel that crashed on this world. We are independent.”
Silence. The gathered figures shifted slightly. The black-robed one, however, remained still.
“You do not share our interests,” it said at last.
“No,” Elisa confirmed, glancing at her team. “We don’t even know who you are.”
The alien stood in quiet contemplation for a moment. Then, in a motion both smooth and abrupt, it straightened and spoke with newfound urgency.
“You have energy reserves,” it said. “We require metabolic substrates. Saccharides. Ethanol. Anything that can sustain us.”
Pom’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”
Elisa hesitated. The shift in tone—from wary formalities to outright demands—was jarring. “You need food?” she asked, still processing the request.
“Energy,” the alien corrected sharply. “Glucose. Ethanol. Any molecular energy-bearing medium that can be metabolized.”
Maximilian stepped forward, eyes narrowing, his grip on his weapon tightening. “You are in no position to make demands.”
The alien regarded him impassively. “We are explorers,” it said, ignoring the implied threat in Maximilian’s tone. “We seek life in a hostile galaxy. We plant seeds where none exist. We prepare worlds for future colonization.”
Mei was the first to react. “Terraforming,” she murmured.
The alien turned toward her slightly, as if acknowledging a correct assessment. “Your world was barren,” it said. “Until we seeded it.”
A chill ran through Elisa. “You mean this world?” she asked.
“Yes.”
Maximilian frowned, shifting his grip on his rifle. “So you brought the plants,” he said. “The mushrooms, the red flora.”
The alien nodded. “We cultivate and propagate life. It is our purpose.”
Mei looked sceptical. “Your plants have a tendency to infect and rewrite people’s genetic structure,” she said. “Why?”
“Natural life is adversarial,” the alien explained. “We seek alignment. So that all life can thrive.”
“And will we be infected, just by being here,” Mei asked.
“Not unless we wish it,” the alien answered.
Ervin, who had been quiet, finally spoke. “If you can do all of that, then why are you living like this?”
The black-robed figure was silent for a long moment before finally answering. “Our ship was disabled by an anomaly,” it said, its voice taking on a weight of bitterness. “We found a structure to the north. It is not of us.”
“The earthquakes,” Elisa said, knowing. “The crystals. That’s what you’re talking about.”
The alien’s tone sharpened. “We have been attacked on multiple occasions. We have abandoned camps, lost resources, moved deeper into the wastes. The anomaly grows.”
Elisa swallowed hard, glancing at Mei, who looked equally shaken. “You’re talking about the same entity responsible for the crystalline growths,” she said.
The alien gave the barest nod. “Yes. Our leader, the Provider, remains inside. They commune with the network. They contain the spread of corruption. But the Provider grows weak. We require an energy source.”
Maximilian’s skepticism was palpable. "And if we help you? What do we get in return?"
The dark-robed figure stood very still. "As you said you are not aligned, I cannot promise anything. Only the Provider may decide."
Elisa exhaled sharply, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Of course."
A brief silence ensued. Then the alien shifted, as if reconsidering. "I may, however, offer our plants. And metal."
Elisa blinked. "Metal?"
“We have collected and refined what we could," the alien confirmed. "A lot has been accumulated. I will give you as much as you are willing to take, for its weight in carbohydrates.”
Mei glanced at Elisa. “That’s… actually useful.”
“What about that device you got inside,” Maximilan asked.
“We found it north,” the alien replied. “You may take it also.”
Elisa weighed the situation. They had come looking for answers, and here they were—strange, uncomfortable, and far from complete, but answers nonetheless. The aliens were not openly hostile, and their knowledge of the plants could be invaluable. But there was so much they still didn’t know.
Finally, she exhaled and gave a nod. "Fine. But I want to see this ‘Provider’ myself."
The black-robed figure inclined its head. "Come."
The interior of the coral-like building was unlike anything Elisa had ever seen. The walls were woven with twisting strands of metallic and organic material, giving the chamber a purposefully grown appearance. In the dim light, she could make out bronzed inlays worked into the floor, forming a series of concentric circles. Strange, wisping tendrils of red vines pulsed faintly along the walls.
And in the center, reclining within what looked like an intricate nest of red plant tendrils and biometal, was another being.
Unlike the others, this one was seated, entangled—its robes flowing into the tendrils, as though the plants themselves were growing around its form. Ornate metallic bracers adorned its wrists, and its head was tilted slightly downward, as though it were asleep.
Mei stepped closer. "Is it… alive?"
The black-robed figure knelt beside the motionless being. "The Provider is connected. Maintaining balance. But they require more sustenance. What little we can extract from the sun and the soil is insufficient for our needs."
Elisa studied the being carefully. "So, you are saying that this being is opposing the crystal influence?"
“Without the Provider, it will propagate through our plant network,” the alien said plainly.
Elisa exhaled. "Alright. Let’s get you your damn sugar."
===
The headquarters was buzzing with tension as ARI replayed its footage on the central holographic display, showing the cloaked figures emerging from their makeshift settlement. The crew sat or stood in clusters, eyes fixed on the projections, their voices a steady hum of speculation.
“They move so strangely,” one of the engineers muttered.
“They could be robots,” another person suggested.
“No, they breathe. You can see it in the robes.”
“And they eat. Or at least need energy,” Sigrid said, arms crossed as she stared at the looping footage. “Speaking of which, what exactly are they? We don’t even know what they call themselves.”
“Only that one is called a ‘Provider,’” Ervin added, rubbing his chin. “And that they seeded this world with life.”
There was a brief silence as people absorbed the implications.
Qian Shirong exhaled sharply. “And yet we’re being asked to feed them. Literally.”
The conversation immediately fractured into overlapping debates.
“They could help us—”
“They’re weak. We don’t owe them anything—”
“We shouldn’t get involved—”
“We’re already involved—”
Elisa sighed and held up a hand, silencing the room. “Look,” she said firmly, “I understand the skepticism. We don’t know nearly enough about them. But based on what we’ve seen, the crystals are the real threat here.”
Qian Shirong leaned back in his seat, unimpressed. “With all due respect, commander, I don’t think we’re in any position to make that call yet,” he countered. “You say the crystals are the enemy. But what if this is just a conflict between two alien factions? A war that has nothing to do with us? It’s easy to pick a side when you don’t know the full story. The last thing we need is to waste our limited resources on a fight that isn’t ours.”
Mei bristled. “We already know the crystals are hostile,” she insisted. “They attacked us unprovoked. They consume metal, infect creatures, spread like a disease. The plants have done nothing but help—they provide water, concentrate valuable materials, grow food—”
Pom scoffed. “Yeah, and they also rewrote your DNA without asking.”
Mei’s lips pressed into a thin line, and a murmur passed through the group.
Maximilian crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “I agree that we remain pragmatic,” he said, finally speaking. “We should assume these aliens have their own agenda, and they’re not telling us everything. Until we have a better grasp of the situation, trust should be off the table.”
Tamarlyan, leaning casually against the back of a chair, smirked. “Who said anything about trust? This is business. We give sugar, they give metal. It’s an exchange. And if you actually looked at the alloys we got from them, you’d see that they contain valuable elements we don’t have here in the crater. So long as we control the supply of sugar, we control the arrangement.”
Pom leaned forward, arms on the table. “Or we could just shoot them and take their deposit.”
Sigrid turned to glare at him. “And if we shoot the Provider? Then what? We get some more rocks, will be none the wiser, and those crystals may consume the plants. If we play this right, we might finally get the plants to work for us.”
Yao Guowei, standing near one of the displays, cleared his throat. “While all of this is being decided,” he interjected, “we have more immediate concerns.”
Elisa nodded. “The caves.”
Guowei gestured toward the holographic map. “We sent in ARI’s drones for an initial scan. There are signs of crystal infection, though not as extensive as what we saw at the hive. And there are still creatures down there.”
Sigrid’s face darkened. “We never fully cleared it, did we?”
Guowei shook his head. “No. But now that we’ve produced more drones, we can send them all in and do a full sweep. If there’s a lodestone crystal down there, we’ll find it and destroy it.”
Elisa took a breath, scanning the room. “Then that’s what we’ll do,” she said decisively. “ARI, prepare the drones for a full search-and-purge operation.”
ARI’s voice crackled to life. “Acknowledged. Full deployment of drone assets will commence at your command.”
Elisa turned to Shirong. “How fast can we manufacture the sugar?”
Shirong ran a hand through his hair, considering. “I’ll need some time to adjust the setup at the chemical plant, but we can have the first batches in a day or two.”
Elisa nodded. “Good. Then we proceed with both tasks. ARI’s drones will purge the caves, and we’ll prepare the metabolic substrate for the Provider.”
The meeting was winding down, but before people could disperse, Casimir spoke up from the back of the room. “And what about the console?” he asked.
Elisa glanced at him, then at the battered machine they had recovered from the alien settlement. It sat on one of the side tables, still dark and lifeless.
Casimir rolled up his sleeves. “I’d like to get started on it. See if I can pull any data from it. Find out where it came from. We need to know.”
Elisa gave him a sharp nod. “Do it.”
As the crew began moving out, the air was still thick with uncertainty. No one truly knew what they were walking into—whether the caves held another hidden infestation, whether the aliens could be trusted, whether they were playing a game none of them understood.
