By midday, the air in Grey Hollow had turned thick and dry. The dry that clung behind the teeth, settling like grit at the base of the throat. Dust curled through the alleys and open corridors like slow smoke, stirred by the movement of bodies that had nowhere else to be.
No one said it out loud, but Day One felt different.
Not like the first day of drills.
Not like a trial.
More like a vigil.
Because while the UG ship hadn't arrived yet, the colony was already holding its breath.
Jace stood at the edge of the western perimeter wall, eyes scanning the canyon beyond. His shoulders were tense beneath his sleeveless rig jacket, sweat streaking down his neck. He rolled his wrists slowly, testing the mobility of a reinforced brace Kael had modified the night before.
It moved smoothly. Almost frictionless.
Kael didn't speak. He sat on the rusted scaffold frame nearby, quietly observing Jace's form, measuring the arc of every motion.
"You ever think they're watching already?" Jace asked.
Kael looked up.
"The UG?"
Jace nodded.
Kael tilted his head. "They never stopped."
Jace chuckled once, but it didn't reach his eyes.
From across the lot, Lenn approached, carrying two bottles of coolant water and a battered comm unit patched with faded red sealant. He tossed one to Jace and handed the other to Kael.
"They're surveying from orbit," Lenn said. "Thessa said her cousin in Varka Hollow spotted the clouds shifting too evenly over Sector D. Satellite control."
"Could be pre-landing scans," Jace added, popping the seal.
"Could be data-mining," Kael said. "UG likes to watch before it speaks."
_____
That afternoon, Grey Hollow's applicants gathered for a heat-training cycle beneath the secondary power grid's shade. The grid buzzed faintly above them, making the air hum with tension even when no one was speaking.
Among them was Naya, the scout's daughter, her eyes hidden behind worn tactical goggles. She moved with efficiency, speaking rarely, but when she did, others listened. She'd been raised to track terrain by foot, chart dust trails by instinct, and she carried herself like someone who didn't need reassurance to know her worth.
Wes was there too. Lanky, too quick to speak, trying to mask nervous energy with jokes. But today, his laughs were thinner.
Seld stood apart from them, going through breathing routines by himself, back pressed against a cracked wall, fingers tracing patterns into the grit beside him. He'd grown up underground, born in the older tunnels that collapsed two years before. Dust made him calm. He said it reminded him of silence that didn't judge.
Tyree was the youngest in the lot, other than Kael. Small for his age, quick-minded, with an uncanny ability to mimic anyone's drills after seeing them once. He rarely missed a rhythm. But he watched Kael too closely, not with rivalry.
With something closer to fear.
As the candidates trained, the rest of the settlement adjusted in subtle ways.
Mothers spoke more softly. Tools were cleaned and re-aligned without request. Families patched up suits that hadn't been touched in cycles. Even the dome lights in the main assembly square were fixed in an act of hope no one admitted was hopeful.
The air held something unspoken.
A collective question.
What happens when they leave?
And deeper still,
Who will they become when they return?
______
That night, the Virek home was still.
Not quiet in the sense of silence, but in the way of held breath. The kind of stillness that only exists when change is on the threshold.
Mirena lit the wall lanterns by hand, letting them cast soft arcs across the room. She didn't speak much, but she moved slower than usual, folding towels with more care, checking filter vents twice.
Arik sat at the table, poring over Lenn and Jace's gear again, as if they hadn't already checked it a dozen times. Every strap, every seal, every stitching thread was run between his fingers like a prayer.
Kael stood near the utility room doorway, holding a scrap of worn cloth. The same one his brothers used to tie around their forearms during drills. They had two. He had this one.
He didn't ask for a new one.
He didn't need to.
Outside, the wind shifted east, quiet, carrying the delicate scent of incoming cloud cover from off-planet.
The kind of sky that preceded arrival.
Kael looked up.
He didn't smile.
But he felt something move beneath his ribs.
Something waking.
— Day Two
By the second day, the air in Grey Hollow had changed.
Not just the temperature, which spiked mid-cycle as the canyon winds died, but the way the colony moved. Slower. Heavier. Like every breath carried the weight of unspoken expectation. The settlement itself knew that something was about to arrive that none of them could prepare for.
Everyone was watching everyone.
And everyone, in some way, was pretending not to be.
At dawn, the candidates were already assembled near the outer drill yards, a flat stretch of land packed with iron dust and reinforced with broken transport decking. Over a dozen applicants moved through staggered warm-ups, muscle memory taking over where nerves began to fray.
Lenn's form was tight, precise. He barely made a sound, his footwork low and clean as he moved through UG close-quarters forms 2A and 2B.
Jace was more explosive. His movements hit harder than anyone else's, but it was clear he was compensating his shoulder was slightly overcorrected from the brace Kael had made for him. It didn't slow him down. Yet.
Tyree was nearby, quietly mirroring Lenn's footwork and not competing. Just studying. Wes wasn't far, attempting balance drills but stumbling more than usual. His frustration showed.
And then there was Darven.
The scarred candidate from Varka Hollow moved with calm aggression, measuring everyone around him like they were threats he'd already defeated. He offered no advice. No encouragement. Just silence.
Kael stood near the perimeter scaffolds, behind the safety barrier. He wasn't in uniform. He wasn't on the roster.
But every single candidate knew he was watching.
Late that morning, a system override drill was underway, UG standard test protocols replicated through an old simulation rig retooled by Arik and Mirena. It involved relay redirection, pressure management, and emergency escape sequencing.
Three candidates at a time ran the course.
Naya, Wes, and Seld entered together.
The first run went smoothly. However, during the second cycle, the panel behind Relay Node C cracked due to excessive pressure buildup in the duct line. The emergency override failed. A backdraft vented heat and debris through the lower conduit.
Wes took the hit.
He dropped instantly, gasping, clutching his shoulder. Alarms flared. The other candidates froze.
Kael didn't.
He was already over the barrier before anyone else moved.
"Shut the auxiliary feed!" he shouted, scanning the panel.
No one questioned him.
Vessa scrambled toward the panel while Kael crouched by Wes, already assessing the injury.
"Second-degree contact burn. No respiratory damage. Shrapnel's surface-level." He peeled the fabric away with precision. "Don't move. I'll stabilize you."
By the time Mirena arrived with the medpack, Kael had already finished the field dressing.
Seld helped lift Wes to the stretcher.
Darven said nothing.
But he looked at Kael as if seeing him for the first time.
Later that day, word of the incident had already spread beyond the drill yard. Not just the failure of the panel. But Kael.
No longer just the quiet kid with sharp eyes.
Now something else.
Someone seen.
"I heard he stabilized Wes before the med team got there."
"Didn't even flinch."
"He knew what to do before the alarm even finished."
Whispers like those don't fade in a place like Grey Hollow.
They settle.
And they grow.
Home, Again
That night, the Virek home felt heavier than usual.
Wes had been stabilized. He'd likely miss the screening. Maybe all of it. His mother had visited earlier, thanking Kael with trembling hands and eyes she couldn't quite keep dry.
Kael said very little.
Mirena made stew. Arik didn't speak through most of dinner.
Jace watched Kael carefully.
"You okay?" he asked.
Kael blinked. "Yes."
"You jumped that wall fast."
"I knew what was happening."
Arik finally looked up. "You felt it?"
Kael nodded. "The relay was pulsing irregularly since yesterday."
Lenn leaned back. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I wasn't sure anyone would listen."
Silence fell.
Then Jace said, "I would have."
Kael didn't respond.
But something behind his eyes shifted.