Adam was silent, absorbing it. The questioning in his gaze hardened into resolve.

  "I understand, Doctor. Then let's not waste time. If we're here, it's because it matters."

  A fleeting smile warmed Eamon's face. He set a hand on Adam's shoulder.

  "That's the right attitude. Now—back to work. We have a world to uncover."

  The hours slipped by, and the group finally gathered at base under a sky where the first stars were pushing through. Kiran and Zena, back earlier, had rested, rehydrated, and helped Koros with the artifact study.

  True to his reputation, the android worked with clinical precision. Every motion was measured; every analysis followed a faultless logic. His mechanical fingers danced across the research holos, drawing diagrams, crossing out hypotheses, tweaking parameters. Blue light washed his impassive face while complex data scrolled past at dizzying speed.

  "Impressive," Kiran murmured, stylus poised over his datapad as he took careful notes. "There's a real beauty in... that perfection."

  Koros gave no reply, absorbed in the work. A separated piece of the artifact, mounted on a stand, rotated slowly in a holographic scanner. Streams of data overlay the image, revealing traces of material and inscriptions worn by time.

  Eamon swept the curtain aside and stepped into the research tent, his presence breaking the studious calm.

  "There you are. Night's falling—we were starting to wonder," Zena said, standing, her heart kicking up a little with surprise.

  "Sorry," Eamon said with a reassuring smile. "The return took longer than expected. Well? Anything on your end?"

  Kiran, visibly tired, spoke first. He leaned against a crate and sighed.

  "Not much, honestly. The heat was... brutal. We couldn't stay past two-thirty. The climate pushed us back sooner than planned."

  "I see," Eamon murmured, rubbing his chin—his thinking tell.

  "And you? Anything in the west?" Zena pressed.

  Eamon sighed.

  "Afraid not. We reached a dried lake—an immense chalk basin. But it was a trap. The wind was so violent we had to pull back. No civilization could have stood at the bottom of a place like that. We checked the outskirts, but... nothing yet."

  Disappointment was a physical thing. Zena turned away, shaking her head slightly. "Right..."

  "Let's not get discouraged," Eamon said, straightening and adjusting his monocle. "Research has ups and downs. Today may not have brought a breakthrough, but that's science. Every day is a step."

  A soft silence fell, broken only by the hum of Koros's instruments. Adam, who'd kept to the background, watched the scene. His eyes flicked from the focused android to Eamon, who was already planning tomorrow.

  But Adam felt a growing tension. Their time on this planet couldn't stretch on forever. Time was counting against them, and every resultless hour was one more chance for their enemies—or the Consortium—to find them.

  His thoughts were heavy with doubt. He stared at the artifact and replayed the conversation about Tcherk-To. One question pushed forward, relentless: What if it was a trap?

  His gaze darkened; a spark of suspicion lit in his eyes. He drew a long breath to steady the churn inside. For now, all he could do was wait and watch—hoping Tcherk-To's information would lead somewhere real.

  "And the artifact, Koros?" Eamon Fedrus asked, eyes bright with the impatience of a man waiting to be proven right.

  A faint electronic tick, then the android replied in his even, oddly reassuring voice:

  "My procedural analyses confirm your estimates, Dr. Fedrus. The artifact is indeed younger by 19,700 years than the assumed date of the Estherians' disappearance."

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Eamon nodded, a satisfied smile tugging at his mouth. "Excellent."

  "Regarding the fabrication," Koros continued, fingers flashing across the interface, summoning intricate schematics, "it is a composite alloy. We do find titanium, as is common in Estherian technology. However, the titanium is combined with a metal that does not appear in our databases."

  "A metal we don't know?" Eamon's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

  Kiran couldn't contain himself.

  "Yes, Doctor! Koros spent hours analyzing the composition—nothing, absolutely nothing matches any interstellar database. It's incredible, isn't it? A discovery like this could change everything!"

  Eamon leaned in, sharply attentive.

  "Let me see." He moved to the holo display.

  Koros projected a 3D model of the fragment with a detailed component map. Alloy data filled the air: coded streams, analysis spectra, and Koros's annotations.

  Eamon bent over the figures and graphs, silent for a long moment, enthralled.

  "This is... astonishing," he whispered. He glanced at Kiran—his expression pitched somewhere between fascination and perplexity. "It upends so much of what we thought about Estherian tech. If they had access to this metal... their technology might have been even more advanced than we imagined."

  "Exactly!" Kiran's eyes shone. "And if they discovered or created it, it could mean access to resources or processes we can't even conceive."

  Eamon rubbed his chin.

  "Then why doesn't this metal appear anywhere else in their known artifacts? And why here, on this planet in particular?"

  "These questions require further study," Koros said, imperturbable. "I recommend collecting more samples if similar fragments are found."

  "Yes. Absolutely," Eamon said, the gears already turning. "We need to pull on this thread. If the metal is unique to this planet—or to a specific period of their history—we could be holding a major key to their disappearance."

  A warm smell of spice and slow-cooked meat drifted through the air, wrapping the camp in comfort despite Oberon's cool night. Laughter and animated conversation cracked the usual quiet of this mysterious world. Overhead, stars winked, playing hide and seek with the orange flicker of the camp lamps, which cast dancing shadows over the faces gathered around the table.

  The talk swung between serious and light, a welcome levity after a punishing day. The mood loosened; smiles felt easy again, as if this simple moment swept away the austerity of their mission.

  Kiran, doubled over laughing, could barely breathe.

  "Wait—say it again!" he gasped, pounding the table, tears in his eyes. "That is... priceless!"

  Zena shook her head, grinning as she continued, mischief in her voice.

  "To keep it short: little Elky'a from Class B—you know, the one who never shuts up about being the best—decided it'd be brilliant to light a fire right over a cloud of hydrazine protoxide vapors. Result? Boom. The whole lab blew. He walked out completely singed, hair still smoking. Only thing still recognizable were his eyes."

  Kiran almost spilled his drink as another wave of laughter hit.

  "Oh my gods! I can't believe I missed that... His 'Mr. Know-It-All' face, totally charred—that would've made my year!"

  Pleased with herself, Zena shrugged with mock modesty.

  "You would've loved it. I was there trying not to laugh while he apologized to the professor—with half his eyebrows gone."

  Eamon listened in silence over a hot drink and allowed himself a small smile—a rare unguarded moment.

  "Elky'a... I remember him. Insufferably arrogant, but brilliant in his way. If only he'd spent as much energy thinking as he did bragging..."

  "Oh, absolutely," Zena said, nodding emphatically. "Still, he gave us one of the best moments of the year."

  Sitting a little apart, Adam smiled quietly as he listened. The scene was comforting: a moment of simple humanity in the middle of a mission that felt heavier every day. He said nothing, content to watch as the laughter and stories lit up the starry night.

  "You okay, Adam?" Kiran asked, concern threading his voice. He'd noticed his best friend was more withdrawn than usual—his silence something more than fatigue.

  Arms folded, Adam lifted his head and tried for a reassuring smile.

  "Yeah. Don't worry. Just tired. Today was... physically intense."

  Kiran frowned, unconvinced, but didn't press. He knew Adam well enough to let him open up in his own time.

  From his chair, Eamon pushed himself up with a small groan, resting a hand on the back for support.

  "Adam's right. Today was hard on all of us. And tomorrow..." He swept the group with his eyes. "Tomorrow won't be easier. Let's use this moment to give ourselves the good night's sleep we've earned."

  The firm, fatherly tone echoed the general exhaustion. Heads nodded; faces were tired, but set with determination.

  Slowly, everyone rose, movements heavy with weariness. The camp filled with the quiet scrape of chairs and low murmurs. Kiran set a hand on Adam's shoulder before heading off.

  "Get some rest, yeah? We need you at a hundred percent."

  Adam nodded, a brief smile touching his face.

  "Thanks, Kiran. You too—sleep well."

  Together they drifted to their bunks. The camp's bustle gave way to silence, broken only by the faint crackle of powered lamps and the breath of wind stroking the tent walls.

  The first day—busy and full—had come to an end. Tomorrow would be a new step, and each of them hoped to find answers to their questions... or at least a hint—no matter how small.

  Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a like and drop a comment—it really helps me out and keeps me motivated! ??