Author's Note: I was halfway through writing this chapter when my cat passed away. I haven't been in a writing mood (or to do anything really) since I've lost her. I know that it's been a while, but I didn't want to work on this until I was ready to do so. Because every time I tried to get some writing done it felt force and I was getting frustrated with myself about it.

Chapter 7
Outpost

The scouting party descended a narrowing canyon lined with giant rib bones. Even though we were walking away from the graveyard of bones, this section was no different and was just as unsettling to be around. I could almost have imagined what these beasts were like if they were still alive. My head barely reached the smallest of the rib bones as we passed by it. They could've easily swallowed us all whole.

There was also a slight wail in the air, but it lessened the more we walked forward. At least the shade provided by the canyon and the huge ribs gave us a bit of a relief from the suns' rays. It didn't matter to me, but to the others up ahead they were dragging their feet because of it. It was annoying. The more they dragged their feet, the more sand and dust blew up in the air towards me. Thankfully my weirdness means I haven't been sweating up a storm like they have or else all that sand would've clung to my skin by now. But that still didn't stop the dust and sand from smacking me in the face with the help of a strong breeze.

Scattered around the canyon rim are tall spires, looming like silent sentinels. They might be mineral deposits of some kind. They're strangely shaped, but weathering and erosion can easily explain that away. I leaned against my glaive, closed my eyes for a second and focused for any source of heat-energy on the surface. I didn't sense anything up ahead, but I hoped we would find some good news.

I resumed walking and watched as the others stopped once in a while to wipe sweat off their foreheads. Some would also take a hit of oxygen from their respirators. With the constant sunlight it was difficult to gauge how much time had passed. They won't be able to keep this up for too long. We also shouldn't go too far from the others either. If something was to happen, we would have a harder time getting back to them.

"Imam! Imam!"

Ali's shouting snapped my attention away from my musings. I walked faster to catch up, and Fry sprinted to the front of the group.

Ali pointed to Hassan, who risen back to his feet and was holding something cupped in his hands. Imam and Johns were the first to reach him, inspecting what he had found. Fry was next, catching her breath as she stared confusedly at the object. Everyone was talking at once, excitedly jabbering in Arabic and English.

I arrived behind her and leaned over, looking at what was cradled in Hassan's hands. It had leathery petals that were folded back, exposing a hard, stringy round core.

"It's a desert plant," Suleiman declared.

"Looks like a fruit to me," Johns said, narrowing his eyes at it.

"Maybe it contains water," Imam suggested.

"I don't think so," I said, staring at it. "Something about it looks oddly familiar."

Fry frowned, looking closer. "Wait, wait, wait..."

She took it from Hassan's hands and pushed the petals back down over the core. We all stared at it.

"It's a goddamn baseball," she said in a hushed disbelief.

Imam immediately grasped the significance. "We are not alone here, yes?"

"Don't get your hopes up," I quickly added, frowning at their growing excitement. "All this proves was that at some point there were people here."

"Maybe people still are," Saleiman replied.

I raised my eyebrow and shook my head as I reminded them, "There's no way anyone could've overlooked us crash landing here."

"She's got a point," Johns agreed, looking forward with his shotgun ready. "Ain't anyone here givin' us a warm welcome if they were."

Despite my reasoning everyone felt energized and excited at the find. The youngest ones in the group led the way, followed by Imam and Fry. Sometimes ahead and sometimes behind the group, Johns roamed freely keeping a wary eye out for Riddick. Occasionally, he would use his shotgun to trace an arc as we passed another skeletal hiding place.

Fry kept glancing up at the oddly symmetrical pinnacles. Probably wondering if they're mineral deposits, volcanic cones, or an old animal dwelling of some sort. I moved closer, hearing Imam start a conversation with Fry. "Is there something troubling you?"

She startled slightly and looked at him in confusion. "What? Oh..." Fry pursed her lips together as she thought about what he asked. "Just thinking of all the reasons for why no one has shown up. Or what could go wrong..."

She glanced back at me, and I pretended to be distracted by something in the distance. "I keep reminding myself to not get too caught up in thinking about the 'what ifs'."

"It is natural to have such thoughts," Imam said, while slowing down his pace to match hers. "But it does not do you any good, to dwell on things that you can not control."

"I know, but it's easier said than done," she murmured.

He still heard her and sighed, dabbing the sweat on his brow. "If everything was easy, in my opinion, it would be a very boring and unfulfilling life. Every challenge we face, be it through pain and suffering is another way for us all to grow and become stronger, better people. Such challenges are the spice of life as they say."

"That's..." she paused for a second, before continuing, "a nice way of seeing it."

She obviously wanted to say something else, probably a negative thing that could've offended him but changed her mind. They walked in an uncomfortable silence after that, until I opened my mouth to break it with a lighthearted comment. "I could do with less spice in my life."

I waved my hand vaguely to our surroundings. "Especially if it leads to situations like this."

Fry snorted, "Ditto."

"It could be worst," Imam said with a slight smile.

I shot him an offended look, while clutching the front of my shirt in an exaggerated way. "I can't believe you just said that. Don't you know that nothing good ever happens whenever someone utters those exact words?"

"What's this about worst?" Johns asked, walking alongside of me after finishing his rounds.

"Well," I said, licking my lips in thought. "We could've been the host of an extraterrestrial parasite or woken up to see that our reality wasn't real and it was actually taken over by machines."

"What..." Johns scrunched up in confusion. "Nope. I don't wanna know."

He walked away again, pulling his shotgun off his shoulder.

Imam and Fry laughed. I smiled, relieved to see them more relaxed now. I definitely didn't want to give out a realistic answer to that question. It would've been very depressing and morbid to hear in our current situation.

"Those sound oddly specific," Fry said, catching her breath.

"Just stuff I've read and heard about. From old books to new ones and even rumors and theories about some of the very first settlements," I replied, pausing for a second to switch the glaive to my other hand.

"Do you believe in any of that stuff?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, clarifying. "Aliens? Machine overlords?"

"No, not entirely," I said, shrugging. "Maybe someone will eventually crack the code, but as of yet, machines are still incapable of truly thinking for themselves. But on the other hand, the universe is vast and expanding. It would be ridiculous to assume we're the only intelligent life forms to exist."

I glanced at Imam, wondering if we're annoying him with the topic. Instead, I was actually surprised to see him following along with interest. My staring caught his attention, and he turned to look at me. "What's your thoughts on that?" I inquired, meeting his eyes.

"I can not comment on machines gaining consciousness," he said, while dabbing the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. "I do not know that topic well enough to even discuss it. However, what I do know is that Allah is Al-Khalaaq, which means the one who continues to create."

Imam paused, putting away the square fabric into his pocket. As he did so, he used the moment to think a bit more on the subject before continuing on. "The only creation being us and after we're gone that there will be no other creations is an egotistical assumption of us to make. Ibn Taymiyyah, a famous scholar felt that this notion diminished the greatness of Allah. I agree. Allah has and will continue to create to no end. And only Allah would know if we are to cross paths with other intelligent creations or not."

"There are those that claimed it already happened," I said, thinking back to when I came across that information when researching the history of engineering.

"You're talkin' about the alien fanatics?" Fry asked, amused. "Claiming they were abducted and probed by little green alien men."

"No, not them," I replied with a slight laugh. "I wouldn't call them legit archaeologists, but they speculate that aliens first made contact with some of the early human civilizations, like ancient Egypt."

"Truly?" Imam quipped, looking skeptical.

"Supposedly they believed that the aliens were worshiped as gods," I answered. "I guess some people don't wanna believe that the Egyptians were smart enough to accomplish all they did without some help by aliens."

Imam shook his head. "Some? Do they not say the same about other civilizations?"

"No, apparently non-white civilizations are conveniently left out of the topic," I replied, unimpressed.

Fry tsked, "I'm not surprised. People can be such-"

She was interrupted by a shout. We all stopped walking and looked forward. The shouting was coming from the direction of the younger ones. Fry and I hurried after Imam and saw we were emerging away from the bone yard.

"Allahu Akbar!" Hassan's cried got louder the closer we got.

Hassan, Suleiman, and Ali were standing on a rise about fifty yards ahead. Johns was trotting up to join them, his shotgun ready. I focused on my ability to sense if it was Riddick or anything else that would cause them to shout. But there was nothing out of place as far as I could tell. Whatever got their attention is something I'll have to see with my own eyes.

As I headed up the steep rise, I realized I was the only one not out of breath or breathing heavily through their nose. I lagged behind, letting Imam and Fry reach the others before me. I crested the hill in time to see them all descending the other side. At the bottom of the hill was some sort of human-made structures.

I stopped, taking a moment to study it. It was too small to be a settlement, but it was about the right size for a survey outpost. It had to be because it wouldn't make sense for any settlers to come all the way out here. The planet is barely habitable, with not enough oxygen in the atmosphere to allow humans to breathe normally. Staying here long-term would certainly cause health issues. Unless they've got a couple of oxygen support modules set up around the area.

There's also the fact that they wouldn't be able to grow anything. Water would be an issue too. I suppose they could make it work if they got the right equipment, but that isn't something most settlers could get their hands on. If they do somehow manage it, it would've been very expensive and would required a lot of maintenance to keep it up. Even then, the G System is already a difficult route for ships to get through, which means trade ships are less likely to pass through here let alone make a pit stop. I can only think of a few reasons for anyone who would, and it's not the good kind, like criminals and smugglers.

Which bring me back to why did the Hunter-Gratzner take it? It's not exactly a recommend short-cut to take to decrease travel time. Maybe it was unauthorized? Fry certainly seem surprised when I told her what Owens told me. It could be possible that there was something in the cargo that they couldn't risk being found. Or it could've been a scheme to claim the insurance? Was this an accident or sabotage? We all assumed we were struck by a comet, but it might not have been. Which is it? Was something done to the ship or did it malfunction?

There are shields and sensors in place to prevent stuff like space debris and comets from getting too close to the ship. Someone could've easily tampered with them. I bit my lip and shook my head in hopes it would've helped to banish my trail of thoughts. Even though something about this situation still feels off, it doesn't matter right now. I'm not going to waste my time investigating the ship's debris just to satisfy my need to know everything, especially when something doesn't click into place.

I followed the others, sliding down the hill to join them as they stopped to look at the outpost. In plain view was the side of a building with a faded logo of the Company. I walked closer to the wall, picking out the scratch marks and rough state it was in. Base on the old design of the logo and the condition of the buildings, it was made of Aluminex Pre-Fab. That was standard Company issued before they discovered that Opalar was cheaper and a lot more durable. This place has been here for a very long time.

"Assalam ahlaykum!" Ali shouted.

The group paused as Ali's greeting echoed through the metallic buildings. Fry and Imam came up behind him. In the silence everyone heard the flapping of tattered windows shades.

"Assalam ahlaykum!"

"Forget it, raghead," Johns snorted, moving toward the nearest building. "They're long gone. Whoever they were."

I rolled my eyes when I sense that most of the group had wondered off after Ali's shouting. Whatever happened to sticking together? At least, I don't feel Riddick around, so we all should be fine for now. A gust of wind picked up, and I quickly shut my eyes until it passed to keep the dust from getting in. I moved away from the building and almost tripped over something on the ground.

It was a rusty child's bike. I frowned at it and headed into the larger building, observing everything. It was a communal area and everything was covered with centuries of dust. It seemed almost like an old museum with pictures on the wall. Men and women tilling modest gardens. Playing baseball. Posing with children.

It wasn't unusual for employees to bring along their families to these planet survey outposts. The job tended to be on the long side, but it paid very well. All they had to do was see what kind of resources and minerals can be mine from the planet and if it has potential to sustain a settlement. Whatever information they collected would than be sent out to the Company.

I passed by the ping-pong table and an old holofilm deck. Tables were set up with empty dishes as though a meal were to be served. A basket containing black rocks in the center of each one, oh wait, that was probably bread. Old tech tablets were still sitting about, as were several books, an unfinished card game and pieces of clothing. Why would they leave all of their belongings behind? I wondered, as I nudged a child's toy away with the end of the glaive.

Reaching outside and moving around the corner of the building, I pulled up short. In all its rusted splendor, was a moisture-recovery unit. The ground around it was littered with old jugs. I almost forgot the reason we came out here. Of course, it would make sense for a source of water to be near the canteen.

I turned around in excitement, spotting Imam with his acolytes studying a small box of dirt with shrivel up plants of some kind. That must have been a bountiful garden at some point. Hassan noticed me, and I pretended I was holding and drinking from an imaginary cup. His face lifted up in understanding, and he quickly caught the others' attention.

"Is there water?" Imam asked fervently as soon as he had reached me.

I nodded, pointing over my shoulder.

"Allahu Akbar..." the younger ones chanted.

This was how the people were able to survive on this planet. They used this to dig deep into the ground in order to extract water, and it mechanically purified the water to remove any impurities.

"What ya'll excited about?" Johns asked, looking between Imam and me.

"We might have water," I answered, checking the gears. The machine had taken a bit of a beating over the years from the wind and dust. As far as I can say with just a look, all it needs is a good scrubbing and the solar panels readjusted. My hand came away with dust, when I pushed a solar panel into its proper place. "I don't see anything broken, so we'll still be able to use it."

"That is good to hear!" Suleiman grinned, following my lead by clearing away the dust from the panels.

"Allahu Akbar," Ali and Hassan continued to chant as they collected the old jugs to be used again.

Imam smiled at Johns. "God is great," he translated. "True, yes?"

"I'm born-again," he muttered, moving on.

I leaned back, slapping the dust off my hands and onto my pants. "That box over there is probably where they kept everything to keep up the maintenance on this," I said squinting at it. "I'm guessing tools, spare parts and a lot of cleaning solution since this relies on solar."

"You are not staying to assist?" Imam asked, opening the box.

"Water is definitely a high priority, but I haven't finish searching around," I replied, taking notice of a two particular buildings. One contained a large red cross on the front of it and another with a parabolic antenna on top of it.

He gave me an inquisitive look, prompting me to explain. "Usually these outposts have an infirmary and a communication station. Owens could use whatever medical supplies they left behind and hopefully I'll be able to find some useful information too. Like a map of this whole area and maybe what happened to cause everyone to abandon it."

Imam nodded, "I see."

"It also doesn't hurt to check if we'll be able to call for help. Provided that the equipment is still in good condition and whatnot," l smiled.

At that Imam smiled back, wishing me good luck and I veered off on my own. I headed towards the infirmary first. For Owens' sake I hoped there were still medical supplies and that they haven't gone bad. I could feel someone was already in there before I heard them. I don't think it was Fry because the heat-energy of the person seemed to be bigger in form.

Instead of going straight to the entrance, I went around, peeking inside of the broken window shutter. Johns was rummaging through every drawer and cabinet he could find in a frantic manner. Several pieces of old, yellowed paper and empty prescription bottles laid scattered across on the floor. I don't know if they were already there to begin with or if it was Johns' doing.

With a frustrated growl he slammed his fists onto a table, staring intently at an empty glass vial of morphine. He scanned the room, and I moved away from the window so that he wouldn't see me. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down before storming out of the small infirmary.

I tracked him with my ability, making sure that he was far away before I entered the building. The way he was behaving seemed very much like someone going through withdrawal. We're already in a shitty situation, but to have a drug addict Marshall in the mix? Not good. My intuition doesn't even need to warn me because I know it's going to be a problem; if not now, then definitely later.

I studied the mess inside, noting the unknown dark stain on the entrance way floor. The room contained two rusty metal cots, a small office at the back and a tiny pharmacy locked cabinet that was pried opened at some point. I started at the back, sifting through some of the papers on the desk. They didn't contain any important information, just old records and medical jargon. I skimmed through the shelves and cabinets, picking out items that looked intact. I placed them onto the table to inspect them better.

I managed to find a couple of gauze still sealed in its sterilize packaging, tape, antiseptic wipes, gloves, and an actual suture kit. After checking underneath the pharmacy cabinet, I also found a sealed bottle of pain relievers, iron supplements and isopropyl alcohol. Both items have long since expired, but I'm hoping they're still somewhat effective. I shoved them all into my bag, along with a surgiseal spray.

I took one last sweep around before leaving. To avoid Johns, I took the longer route to get to the building with the antenna on top. It was dark inside, but flipping the windows' shutters allowed the sunlight to shine in. The floor was so dusty that I was leaving footprints as I explored the room. It was spacious and in the middle it contained a large orrery. It slowly came to life, gears and spokes creaking as the light filled the room.

I watch as the model moved, demonstrating the motion of the planets and the three suns until it all stopped. It was cool. I haven't ever seen such a thing in person before. This must be how they kept track of the day and night cycles. Well, more like what part of the day would be good enough for 'night' in order to sleep. Or when it was cool enough to do the labor work. If I'm reading this right the last reading was an eclipse.

I frowned, squeezing the glaive in my hand. Does that mean that the last time this was active, it was the last day the people of this outpost were here? "But there's nothing terrifying about an eclipse," I mumbled, glancing at the lit bulbs representing the three suns. Unless there was something about this one in particular that wasn't normal. An eclipse would've interfered with their solar powered equipment, but it would only be temporarily. Could that be it? Was it taking too long to pass that they were struggling to survive?

No, that can't be right. Judging by the state of the canteen, they were caught off guard as soon as the eclipse happened. It wasn't the eclipse itself that was the problem. Because they didn't wait until their situation with the water and food was dire enough to leave. Instead, I think it might've been something that only came out in the darkness. Did they get attacked? Could it have been whatever killed those giant creatures?

I scanned the rest of the room for answers and came across an old radio. I wiped the dust off of it and blew on the receiver before flipping the switch on. The power light wavered, but it stayed on as I rotated the knob to various frequencies. The only sound emitted from it was static.

There was a red light blinking, indicating that a message was recorded. Curious, I pressed the button and a man's voice crackled loudly on the speaker. I winced, quickly turning it down. "-outpost requesting immediate evacuation. I repeat, immediate evacuation. We're under-"

There was a loud screech, muffled screams and static all jumbled together. Another man's voice cut through the noise, "It's too late. We need to go now, Jam-."

The recording abruptly ended and the room fell eerily silent. I felt a presence coming up from behind me and I whirled around to find Fry standing at the entrance, staring at the radio.

"Jesus Christ," I sighed, relaxing my tense shoulders and lowering my glaive.

"What was that?" she asked, looking spooked.

I bite the inside of my cheek for a moment before telling her, "From what I can gather there was an eclipse. Something about it was bad enough that they were trying to leave or get help. But because everything runs on solar they weren't able to finish recording a message or even get it transmitted out."

Fry grimaced, hoping she heard wrong. "Really, an eclipse when there're three suns?"

I pointed to the orrery next to her. "According to that an eclipse happened."

She leaned over the table to take a closer look at it. She tapped at the planets blocking the light from the lit bulbs. They didn't budge, and the planet in the center was still cast in darkness.

"This was a long time ago," she said with a frown. "What was so bad about this eclipse?"

"I don't know. But I haven't come across any human skeletons," I replied, turning around to flip the power off on the radio. "Have you?"

Fry relaxed, shaking her head. "They must've gotten rescue then."

"Seems like it," I mumbled, eyeing the very corroded back-up battery for the transmitter.

"Is any of that still working?" she asked, hopeful.

I pressed the power button for the antenna monitor. It remained unresponsive. I slapped it and the light turned on. The screen displayed a lot of error alerts, and I scanned through it before the entire thing shorted out.

"Anything?"

"It's completely useless," I answered, annoyed. "A lot of the equipment got fried from the heat. The rest got broke down from aged and dust. Some of the manually operated stuff is still usable, but who's know how long they'll last."

Fry sighed, "At least we got water."

"You heard?"

She nodded, tugging the headscarf to her neck. "If it comes down to it, do you think you can fix this?"

"I can try, but I'm not a miracle worker."

With a lingering glance at the radio and orrery I followed behind Fry. At the back of my mind, there was a persistence thought - If the people of this outpost were rescued, why didn't they come back?