Stars, Stripes, & Strange Blinking Lights

4

Zarin moved cautiously through the tall stalks of the strange plant life, each step sending a soft rustle through the air. The golden stalks reached almost to his chest, their tops swaying gently in the night breeze. As he walked, the horizon stretched endlessly before him, punctuated only by the faint glow of distant lights.

His mind remained focused, pushing aside the strange sensation of his new human form. The weight of the disguise still felt unnatural, but he couldn't afford to be distracted.

He stopped for a moment, crouching down to observe the ground beneath his feet. The soil was soft, loose, rich with organic material. Zarin reached into his suit and retrieved a small cylindrical device—a sampler, capable of extracting and analyzing matter on a molecular level. Pressing the sampler into the earth, he watched as it buzzed softly, collecting a small sample of the soil.

Zarin raised the device to eye level, its display screen flickering as it processed the data.

"Organic composition: high concentration of nutrients," he muttered into the recorder embedded in his wrist unit. "Soil potential for agricultural conversion... exceptional. Could sustain large-scale farming operations."

He straightened, eyes scanning the field around him. The plant life here—tall, thin stalks—was abundant, stretching in all directions as far as he could see. He assumed it was some form of crop, cultivated by the native species for sustenance, but its texture was coarse, brittle, unlike anything he had encountered before. He ran his fingers along the surface of one of the stalks, feeling its roughness.

"The plant life here is... dense," he continued, speaking softly into the recorder. "Stalks appear to be cultivated, though the species is unfamiliar. Likely agricultural in nature. Will take additional samples for analysis."

He reached for another device, this one smaller, designed to extract plant material without damaging the structure. With a practiced motion, he sliced off the tip of one of the golden stalks and sealed it inside a transparent container. It glowed faintly in the dim light, a living specimen to be analyzed later.

As he walked, Zarin's eyes scanned the sky. The stars here were unfamiliar, spread out in strange, dense patterns. There were more of them than he was used to, glittering against the dark backdrop of space, their light faint but constant. The planet's atmosphere was rich in oxygen, thicker than the one on his home world. Each breath felt heavy in his chest, but his body had adapted quickly to the conditions.

He glanced back down, continuing his slow, methodical path through the field. The lights in the distance flickered, growing closer with each step, but he couldn't yet discern their source. His visor was able to detect some faint readings—heat signatures, low-level emissions—but nothing that indicated immediate danger. Still, he remained cautious.

As he moved, the land sloped gently beneath him, a wide, rolling expanse of earth that seemed to stretch out endlessly. His boots left shallow imprints in the soft dirt, and every so often, he would pause to examine the texture of the soil, or the way the plants swayed in the breeze.

"The environment is stable," Zarin recorded. "No immediate threats detected. Atmosphere remains consistent with initial readings. Oxygen levels... adequate for prolonged exposure."

Every sample, no matter how small, could offer insights into the planet's geology, its history, and whether it could sustain the large-scale operations his people needed.

As he rose to his feet, the lights in the distance grew brighter. He could make out faint shapes now, structures perhaps, clustered together in what appeared to be a small settlement. His visor highlighted several sources of energy—low-level, likely artificial lighting.