Serai Veyrath had crossed twelve quiet systems to reach the blue-green world her people called Eshara, “the restless garden.” It was meant to be a silent descent, a simple survey of a species still wrapped in radio noise and stormlight. But she had not accounted for the jagged ring of scrap metal circling the planet, nor the sudden magnetic surge that blinded her pod’s living instruments.

The impact tore a burning wound across the meadow.

Smoke curled from the cracked shell of her transport as Serai dragged herself free, one hand pressed to her side.

Then she sensed it.

A native stood beyond the smoke, staring at her.

Serai froze, then slowly raised both hands. Her suit clicked, shimmered, and searched through broken language patterns until it found something close enough to human speech.

“I am Serai Veyrath,” she said, her voice soft beneath the suit’s metallic echo. “I am not your enemy.”