Somewhere along the border of the Empire, a smuggler’s ship slipped out of FTL.

  Jason lay still in the narrow bed, his body heavy as it continued to recover from its wounds. Across the cabin, Tahuuk paced back and forth, his steps restless and uneven. At the controls, Johnny watched the planet grow larger through the forward window as he guided the ship toward a world overflowing with life.

  Green dominated the surface below. Vast continents of dense vegetation stretched across the planet, broken only by deep blue oceans that swallowed everything between them.

  “I won’t be able to stay long,” Johnny muttered as they entered the atmosphere. “This planet doesn’t take kindly to outsiders landing here—and I don’t feel like losing my ship.”

  Tahuuk barely reacted. He continued pacing, lost in his own thoughts, while Jason lay with his eyes half-closed, trying to ignore both the pain and the tension in the air.

  Johnny glanced back, waiting for acknowledgment.

  “…Right,” he added flatly.

  He turned forward again and gripped the controls, then pulled back sharply.

  The ship lurched.

  Tahuuk stumbled, nearly losing his footing, while Jason slid upward on the bed, his head striking the upper frame with a dull thud.

  “Aw!” came Johnny’s shout from the pilot’s seat.

  Tahuuk snapped toward him. “What are you do—”

  “We are landing,” Johnny cut in, irritation sharp in his voice. “On the hostile planet you call home.”

  Tahuuk froze.

  Surprise crossed his face as the words registered. He stepped closer to the window, coming to a halt beside Johnny. Outside, the planet filled their view now—vast, alive, waiting.

  He didn’t say anything.

  He didn’t want to show it, but emotions stirred deep inside him. His birthplace. His home. After all these years, it lay right in front of him.

  His eyes traced the ground as they descended, but his mind drifted elsewhere—back through memories of his youth, of training and belonging, of the moment he had left it all behind.

  “Hello?!” Johnny barked beside him. “Where are we landing?!”

  The sharpness of the question snapped Tahuuk back to the present. He focused again, scanning the terrain with practiced familiarity. A distinctive tree. A lake in an open clearing. The broken outline of an old ruin.

  He raised an arm and pointed. “There.”

  Johnny swallowed and eased the ship down, guiding it toward the chosen spot. They touched down at the edge of a clearing carved out of an otherwise suffocating forest. Sunlight glinted off long, dark green grass swaying gently in the wind.

  Johnny glanced sideways toward the trees.

  The forest loomed immediately beyond the clearing, dense and lightless, a wall of shadow beginning just past the first trunks. For a moment, he felt watched by someone, or something, buried deep within it.

  He saw no eyes. No movement.

  Only darkness.

  A low grunt broke the moment.

  Johnny turned as Jason pushed himself upright, Tahuuk stepping closer in case he needed support. Even then, Tahuuk’s attention wasn’t fully on the present.

  His eyes kept drifting back toward the jungle.

  They stepped outside—Jason first, then Tahuuk.

  Tahuuk paused and drew in a deep breath. The air was old and familiar, untouched by industry or machinery, free of the metallic sting that clung to imperial worlds. There was no hum of technology here. Only nature.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Johnny lingered on the ship’s ramp, his gaze drifting back toward the forest.

  “I don’t want to lose my ship…” he muttered.

  Tahuuk followed his glance and gave a slight nod.

  “You’re right. Your ship wouldn’t last two nights here.”

  He stepped closer and placed a hand on Johnny’s shoulder.

  “You’ve done enough for us. You have a warrior’s respect.”

  Johnny blinked at that, then looked down as Tahuuk extended his hand. After a brief hesitation, he took it. Their grip was firm.

  Johnny’s eyes shifted past Tahuuk to Jason.

  Jason straightened, easing his posture as much as his body allowed. Most of the pain had faded, but the gunshot wound still burned dully. He met Johnny’s gaze and gave a small wave—nothing dramatic, just quiet gratitude.

  A faint warmth stirred in Johnny’s chest. He smiled, and for a moment, it stayed.

  Then a bird’s call echoed from the forest—sharp, unfamiliar.

  The smile faded.

  “Call me if you need me,” Johnny said, forcing a light tone. “But next time… I’d like to get paid.”

  Tahuuk smirked. “Fair enough.”

  He stepped back beside Jason, clearing space for the ship.

  Johnny hurried inside and sealed the ramp. Moments later, the engines flared—then sputtered. The ramp dropped again.

  With a curse, Johnny climbed out, kicked the right thruster twice, then tightened a few loose bolts with a wrench. He waved at them before ducking back inside.

  The engines sputtered once more.

  Then they caught.

  The ship lifted, blasting wind across the clearing as it rose. The rumble deepened, and the vessel surged forward, arcing upward until it disappeared among the stars, reduced to a faint glimmer against the sky.

  Jason and Tahuuk watched until it was gone.

  Only then did Tahuuk turn away, surveying the land around them. His gaze settled on a break in the treeline nearly a kilometer ahead.

  “We need to reach the ruins before nightfall,” he said.

  “No time to waste, then,” Jason replied, irritation flickering through him as pain flared again.

  They set off.

  The path narrowed as the forest closed in around them. The light dimmed beneath the canopy, and with every step, Jason felt it—the sense of being watched, of unseen eyes tracking them from both sides.

  As evening crept closer, the feeling sharpened.

  Eventually, the path vanished altogether, swallowed by the trees.

  Tahuuk slowed, scanning the surroundings. After a moment, he nodded once and gestured forward.

  They continued on.

  They pressed deeper into the forest.

  Thick lianas draped between towering trees, their vines twisting and overlapping like living veins. Animal sounds echoed from every direction—calls, clicks, distant cries—layered so densely that Jason couldn’t tell where any of them came from.

  The deeper they went, the worse it felt.

  Jason quickened his pace, a growing sense of danger tightening in his chest. The sounds grew louder, harsher, almost unhinged, as if the forest itself were closing in on them.

  Then he stumbled.

  His foot caught on a low-hanging liana, and he pitched forward into a small clearing.

  The moment he hit the ground, the sounds stopped.

  Jason froze. Slowly, he pushed himself up and turned back the way they had come.

  Nothing.

  Only trees. No movement. No sound.

  He turned again.

  Tahuuk stood near a broken stone structure at the edge of the clearing, one massive hand resting against its surface. He was still, focused, as if listening to something beyond hearing.

  Jason stepped closer, examining the ruin. Strange symbols were carved deep into the stone—angular hieroglyphs separated by sharp, etched lines that marked where walls once stood tall before time had claimed them.

  Tahuuk turned to him.

  “This is sacred ground,” he said quietly. “The animals will not enter. We can rest here.”

  Jason exhaled, tension draining from his shoulders.

  “Alright,” he said. “Then what happens tomorrow?”

  “We head west,” Tahuuk replied. “Eventually, we will cross my tribe.”

  Jason nodded.

  They worked in silence. Jason gathered fallen branches and broad leaves, building a small fire and fashioning a makeshift bed nearby. From time to time, he glanced at Tahuuk. As always, his expression gave nothing away—but Jason noticed the tightness in his posture, the restraint in his movements.

  Reluctance.

  As the fire burned low, exhaustion finally overtook him. Jason lay back, the ache in his body dull but persistent.

  Only the breeze and the quiet crackle of flames remained.

  Then even those faded.

  ***

  Jason woke to a sound.

  Rustling.

  His eyes snapped open, his body still heavy with sleep. The fire had burned down to embers. The forest beyond the clearing was dark and unmoving.

  Tahuuk stood at the edge of the ruins, his back to Jason, scanning the trees.

  “We’re surrounded,” he said, his voice low.

  Jason pushed himself upright. “I thought no animals came here?”

  Tahuuk didn’t turn.

  “They aren’t animals,” he replied.

  “They’re my tribe.”