Chapter 5: The Wreck in the Wastes
The trek to the wreckage was anything but easy.
The further they walked, the more the terrain shifted from loose violet sand to jagged rock formations, sharp and uneven. Strange, bioluminescent plants grew in the cracks, pulsing with an eerie blue glow, illuminating the path in a way that felt both mesmerizing and unsettling.
Celeste wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. “I take back every complaint I’ve ever made about backstage conditions. This planet is the worst venue I’ve ever played.”
Orion chuckled. “You get used to it. Well, unless something eats you first.”
Celeste shot him a glare. “So reassuring.”
They crested a ridge, and below them, half-buried in the sand and stone, was the wreck. Even from a distance, Celeste could tell it wasn’t just another scrap heap—this ship had a sleek, curved design, unlike the boxy, utilitarian models she was used to seeing. Its hull shimmered faintly under the light of the triple suns, as if it were made from something more advanced than standard alloys.
Orion let out a low whistle. “That’s no ordinary transport. That’s high-grade tech.”
Celeste frowned. “Meaning… what, exactly?”
“Meaning,” Orion said, already making his way down the slope, “Jex sent us out here because he knows this wreck is valuable. He just doesn’t want to risk getting his own hands dirty.”
Celeste sighed, following him. “Of course he didn’t mention that part.”
As they got closer, the air grew strangely still. The usual ambient hum of Velmara-7’s insect-like creatures had vanished. Celeste felt a prickle on the back of her neck—like the planet itself was holding its breath.
Orion slowed, scanning the area with a wary gaze. “Something’s off.”
Celeste swallowed. “Define off.”
Before Orion could answer, a sharp metallic click echoed through the wreckage.
Instinct took over—Orion grabbed Celeste’s wrist and yanked her behind a jagged piece of debris just as a blast of energy seared through the air where they had been standing.
“WHAT THE—” Celeste started, but Orion clamped a hand over her mouth.
He pointed toward the wreck, where movement stirred in the shadows.
Out from the broken hull stepped a figure clad in patchwork armor, a crude energy rifle resting on their shoulder. A helmet obscured their face, but the stance, the way they moved—it screamed mercenary.
Orion muttered a curse under his breath.
“Please tell me this planet doesn’t have space bandits,” Celeste whispered.
“Okay,” Orion whispered back. “I won’t tell you.”
A second figure emerged from the wreck, then a third. Each carried weapons, each scanning the area like they were expecting trouble.
Celeste’s pulse quickened. “Great. Jex sent us straight into a bandit nest.”
Orion’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, and they don’t look like the negotiating type.”
One of the bandits pulled a device from their belt and clicked a button. A deep, static-filled voice buzzed from it.
“No sign of the package. But the ship’s intact.”
The leader of the group cursed. “Keep searching. If we don’t find it, we take the whole damn wreck with us.”
Celeste exchanged a look with Orion. “Package?” she mouthed.
Orion shook his head, but his expression was grim.
She wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that they were stuck in the middle of whatever this was… or the fact that Orion clearly did have an idea of what they were talking about.
Celeste exhaled slowly. “So, what’s the plan, oh wise and fearless guide?”
Orion’s gaze flicked toward the wreckage. “We need that hyperdrive. And I really don’t feel like dying today.”
“Same.”
Orion nodded. “Then follow my lead.”
Celeste wasn’t sure what was more ridiculous—the fact that she was now sneaking through an abandoned spaceship with a mechanic she’d met yesterday, or the fact that part of her actually liked the thrill of it.
Music had its own kind of rush—the pulse of a live performance, the unpredictable energy of the crowd. But this? This was something else entirely.
As Orion led them into the shadows, Celeste couldn’t help but think:
This might just be my strangest encore yet.
