The trio made their way down to the docking bay, descending through sleek corridors and gleaming stairwells until they reached the very bottom of the ship. The service shuttle sat waiting in the small docking hangar, its compact frame a stark contrast to the grandeur of the Duj.

Zog eyed the shuttle sceptically. “That thing looks like it hasn’t been used in years.”

“It is fully operational and perfectly safe,” BOB assured him. “Of course, it is a bit... cramped.”

HALAT tilted her head as she inspected the shuttle. “It’ll do. Assuming none of us are claustrophobic.”

Clorita smirked, stepping aboard and ducking to avoid the low ceiling. “Let’s hope the captain doesn’t panic in tight spaces.”

“I don’t panic,” Zog muttered, climbing in after her and squeezing into the co-pilot seat. HALAT settled into the rear compartment, her long legs tucked awkwardly under her. The space felt uncomfortably close, even with just three passengers.

As the shuttle doors sealed with a hiss, BOB’s voice chimed through the overhead speakers. “All systems green. Descent trajectory calculated. Activating thrusters.”

The shuttle lurched forward, exiting the docking bay and tilting toward the planet below. Zog gripped his armrests as the craft descended, the atmospheric pressure creating a faint tremble in the walls.

“Oops,” BOB’s voice suddenly said, cutting through the tension.

Zog’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, oops? What happened? Did we miss the landing zone? Are we crashing?”

“Oh, I’m just kidding,” BOB replied, her tone too casual. “Coordinates locked. Descent proceeding as planned.”

Clorita stifled a laugh while HALAT raised an eyebrow. “Bob’s good,” HALAT said. “I almost believed it.”

Zog glared at the console. “BOB, if you ever do that again, I swear—”

“Captain,” BOB interrupted, its voice saccharine sweet. “Stress can cause malfunctions in humanoid circuits. Please remain calm and enjoy the ride.”

Clorita burst out laughing, earning Zog'sa glare from Zog. “You and this ship deserve each other,” he muttered.

The shuttle dipped lower, the planet’s features coming into sharper focus. Vast plains stretched endlessly, dotted with strange, shaggy creatures grazing in herds. Near the horizon, the metallic sheen of a settlement glinted in the sunlight—a cluster of reflective domes surrounded by crude fencing.

“That must be it,” Clorita said, nodding toward the settlement. “Looks like a frontier outpost.”

“Frontier, alright,” Zog grumbled, eyeing the rough buildings. “Bet they haven’t seen anything like us before.”

“Given the lack of advanced technology detected,” BOB noted, “you’re likely correct. Shall I prepare a greeting protocol, or would you prefer to wing it?”

“We’ll wing it,” Zog said.

“Of course,” BOB replied. “Shuttle landing sequence initiated.”

The craft slowed as it neared the ground, the thrusters kicking up a cloud of red dust. The shuttle touched down with a soft thud, its landing gear sinking slightly into the loose soil.

Clorita peered out of the viewport, watching a group of tall, chitinous figures emerge cautiously from the settlement. Their exoskeletons glimmered in the sunlight, and their mandibles clicked in a rhythmic pattern as they approached.

HALAT checked her weapons, and her movements were calm and precise. “Time to make friends, Captain.”

Zog unbuckled his harness, his face a mix of determination and dread. “Let’s hope their version of ‘friends’ doesn’t involve eating visitors.”

Clorita smirked, hoisting her shotgun with easy confidence. “Come on, Captain, it’s not like anything ever goes wrong.”

Zog grumbled as the shuttle doors slid open with a soft hiss, “Why does she keep jinxing us?”

With a gentle hiss, the shuttle settled into the loose soil, its landing gear sinking slightly into the red dust. The crew could see the approaching figures through the viewport—small, ant-like creatures no taller than a humanoid’s waist. They moved with surprising agility, balancing on four hind legs while their upper limbs, delicate and dexterous, held simple tools or gestured in complex patterns. Their mandibles clicked rhythmically, and their round, glossy eyes reflected the sunlight.

“BOB,” Clorita said, still seated in the cramped co-pilot seat. “Adjust the translator app to the local language. We’ll need it.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Of course, Clorita,” BOB replied, its tone indulgent as always. “Language database updated. However, I should warn you—based on preliminary scans, their communication may include ultrasonic tones that the translator cannot replicate.”

Clorita frowned. “Ultrasonic tones? So what’s missing?”

“Likely nuances of intent or emotional subtleties,” BOB explained. “I’d recommend keeping your statements clear and straightforward.”

“Fantastic,” Zog muttered, unbuckling his harness. “So, we’re not only alien, but now we’re the equivalent of shouting tourists.”

Clorita ignored him, grabbing her equipment and checking her weapon. “Just keep things neutral, Captain. No sudden movements.”

“Neutral,” Zog echoed, glancing nervously at the viewport. “Got it.”

The shuttle doors opened with a faint hiss, and a gust of warm, arid air swept into the cabin. Zog stepped out first, trying to exude an air of confidence. Clorita followed closely, her movements precise, while HALAT trailed behind, scanning the surroundings with cold efficiency.

The Frontiersmen approached in a loose formation, their antennae twitching curiously. Their glossy carapaces shimmered in hues of brown and gold, catching the sunlight as they moved. Their upper limbs, jointed and surprisingly human-like, gestured as they chittered softly amongst themselves. One of the creatures—a bit taller than the others and adorned with what looked like woven grasses draped across its shoulders—stepped forward.

BOB’s voice chimed softly in Zog’s earpiece. “Translator active. Proceed with caution.”

Zog cleared his throat. “Uh... Greetings. We come in peace.”

The translator rendered his words into rapid clicks and soft hums. The leader’s antennae twitched in response, and it answered with its series of sounds. BOB translated almost instantly: “You are large... but unarmed?”

“Not entirely unarmed,” HALAT muttered, her hand resting on the concealed weapon at her hip. Clorita shot her a warning glance.

“We mean no harm,” Zog said quickly, holding his empty hands. “We’re travellers, passing through.”

The leader tilted his head, his large, reflective eyes studying him intently. After a brief pause, it responded, “Travellers are rare. Your vessel is unusual.”

“Unusual?” HALAT asked, narrowing her eyes. “Define unusual.”

“Spark,” Clorita hissed under her breath, nudging HALAT sharply. “Not the time.”

The leader gestured with two of its arms toward the settlement behind it—a cluster of low, dome-shaped structures made from a mixture of natural stone and a glossy resin-like material. Other ant-like figures moved between the buildings, some carrying tools while others herded shaggy, six-legged animals toward fenced enclosures.

“Come,” the leader said through the translator. “You will share your story. We will listen.”

Clorita arched an eyebrow at Zog. “Looks like they want to roll out the welcome mat.”

“Or it’s a trap,” Zog muttered, hesitating at the base of the shuttle’s ramp. He eyed the settlement warily, noting how the polished domes gleamed in the sunlight. “They’ve got herding animals but not a single landing pad. Feels off.”

Clorita shrugged and pushed Zog forward. “You worry too much, Captain. Besides, it’s not like they can overpower us.”

HALAT, her expression unreadable, stepped past Zog and gestured toward the settlement. “Let’s get this over with. If it’s a trap, I’ll handle it.”

The leader seemed to understand the gesture and turned toward the domes, confidently leading the way. The trio followed, their boots kicking up fine red dust as they crossed the plain. Other Frontiersmen paused in their tasks to stare at the towering humanoids, their antennae twitching curiously.

As they approached the settlement, Clorita glanced back at Zog with a smirk. “Relax, Captain. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Zog sighed. “I wish she’d stop asking that.”

The night was quiet, the crackle of the campfire fading into the gentle hum of nocturnal creatures. Zog, Clorita, and HALAT sat near the embers, and their systems dimmed for energy conservation. Around them, the Frontiersmen moved about their evening routines, the settlement bathed in the soft glow of bioluminescent lanterns hanging from makeshift poles.

Zog leaned back, his servos whining softly. “Not a bad spot, all things considered. Dusty, but peaceful.”

Clorita smirked, checking her shotgun before resting it beside her. “That’s your problem, Captain. You say things like that, and then everything goes to hell.”

“Relax,” Zog said, waving her off. “What’s the worst that could happen? Someone comes out of the dark and ties us up?”

HALAT, seated nearby, was fiddling with a portable charger. Her power levels had been steadily depleting since their arrival, and the charger—an older model barely holding together—refused to cooperate. She frowned as the device sparked weakly. “At this rate, I’ll be running on fumes soon.”

“Fix it tomorrow,” Clorita said, settling into a makeshift seat. “Nothing’s going to—”

A distant, rhythmic drumming interrupted her, cutting through the night. It started faint but grew louder with each passing second, a steady, menacing thrum that made the ground tremble.

The Frontiersmen froze, their antennae twitching in alarm. Their leader scurried toward Zog and the others, clicking frantically. BOB translated in a whisper through their earpieces: “The Unifiers. They have found us.”

Before Zog or Clorita could react, the camp erupted into chaos. Figures emerged from the darkness, clad in crude yet intimidating armour. They carried long, spear-like weapons that crackled with energy. The Frontiersmen scattered, some attempting to fight back with farming tools while others herded their young into the shadows.

Zog reached for his sidearm, but a blast of blue energy hit the ground near his feet, sending him stumbling backwards. “What the—?!”

Clorita grabbed her shotgun, levelling it at the nearest attacker. She fired, the energy blast slamming into one of the Unifiers, who fell with a grunt. “We’ve got company, Captain!”

But there were too many of them. Dozens of Unifiers swarmed the camp, their coordinated movements overwhelming the scattered Frontiersmen. A sharp blast from behind sent Clorita sprawling, her weapon skittering out of reach.

Zog turned to help her, but an energy net suddenly enveloped him, its electrified strands constricting his movements. “Clorita! HALAT! I’m—”

Another blast hit HALAT’s shoulder, sending her crumpling to the ground. Her systems flickered, the dim light in her eyes fading as her power levels dropped to critical. The malfunctioning charger rolled uselessly away, sparking faintly in the dirt.