We decide to sleep in Tribe territory and leave early in the morning. I'm totally fine with that, happy to see the others, and delay the long, harsh trip back to the city while I can.

I sigh, turning over on the pallet. I don't know what I expected when I came here, but I do know I thought I would leave with some answers. Instead, I feel like I only have more questions.

I could see the frustration in Melchior's eyes as he realized that as well and could completely understand the sentiment. I felt the same way.

But I also know Bashir was simply being honest. The truth is, none of us has any answers yet, not really. We're all just trying to muddle along, hoping we're doing what we're supposed to. Maybe I could talk to Maeve...

My thoughts come in a steady stream, one after another, until I exhaust myself. At last, I finally fall into a deep sleep.

At least...I think so?

Am I dreaming?

It doesn't feel quite right...

The vastness of Tajss greets me.

I am treated to a bird's-eye view of the rolling sand dunes, the craggy rocks, the color leached out into gray tones under the night sky.

A familiar group of guster run underneath me, and I know with the surety of dreams that they are the same ones we encountered the day before. I don't feel alarmed at the sight of them. They're far away, moving in farther. I do not know how I know, but I do.

I soar past them.

Past a small oasis with a crystal-clear pool in the center, the starlight reflecting from its surface.

Past another rock formation.

And then the dream accelerates somehow. The land below starts to whip past, blurring slightly. The light begins to change, the weak glow of the just-rising suns beginning to touch the high points of the terrain below.

Abruptly, I slow down again, wherever I am, floating above Tajss. There's movement below.

I frown, even in the dream. What is that? There are so many of them, maybe an insect of some kind.

As if the dream is sensing my confusion, I'm abruptly closer to the ground below, close enough that I can now make out more details. They aren't insects. I feel a chill flow through me as I recognize the textured blue skin, the elongated heads.

One of them throws its head back and lets out that distinctive staccato yell, revealing the full black eyes, the lipless slit of its mouth, parting to display sharp teeth and tusks curving out front.

Alien invaders—a whole lot of them.

I feel my anxiety rising as I continue to pass over them. It takes too long to reach the edge of the crowd. There are too many of them. Finally, there's sand below, but I don't relax, because directly ahead is a very familiar structure.

A wall.

Panic hits me, hard and fast.

I need to wake up!

Wake up, Addison!

Wake up!

My eyes slam open and I bolt upright.

"Melchior!"

His name isn't even fully out of my mouth before he's there in the doorway of the small cave I'm staying in, his face grim.

"Did you see—" My voice comes out shrill, panicky, though I don’t want it to.

"The invaders," he finishes grimly. "Yes. They're headed this way."

Another chill goes through me, even as I register a lack of surprise. The dream was so real I didn't even question that it could be anything but a warning. But it wasn't a dream, was it?

I don't know if I fell asleep at all.

A chill floods me.

A vision.

It was a vision, and it doesn't shock me at all that Melchior saw it, not after the visceral recognition in the vision that what I was seeing was actually happening.

I immediately jump to my feet. By mutual accord, we rush outside. Melchior takes a deep breath and lets out a roar that I feel in my stomach, it's so loud.

"Attack!"

For sure, everyone in the whole cave system heard that. Within fifteen seconds, people start spilling out, weapons in hand. Lochabers for the Zmaj, and the sharpened poles that the women have come up with for defense.

I slow as we near the wall. Now that we're outside, the sound of footsteps just past it is audible. A lot of footsteps.

I see the Zmaj running for gate that leads outside. Right beyond it, I can just make out the invaders closing in. It was one thing to see them from high up in a dream. Another altogether to see the mass of them coming directly at us, a wall of matte brown carapace armor, teeming with arms and pincers, the staccato sounds of so many together blending until it sounds like a dull roar. The shock of seeing it like this brings me to a halt as I stare.

"Stay behind the wall," Melchior orders, looking into my eyes, only once, then continuing forward with his lochaber.

I nod, still staring. How are we going to defend against that?

I turn to see Zmaj and other women still rushing out, ready to defend the stronghold. They're in place with time to spare. The shared vision Melchior and I had ensured at least that much of an edge.

I step forward, but then stop. Melchior can be of actual, valuable help out there on the front lines, but my talents lie elsewhere. I turn away from the place everyone else is rushing to, and head over to the machine responsible for the shields.

We know there's a problem with the glass holding charge, with the longevity of the shields. I need to be on hand to do what I can. I reach the machine just as I hear the invaders engage with the Zmaj. I wince as I hear the crunch of bone, the cries of pain. Some things are universal, aren't they?

The machine is set higher up, high enough that I can see past the wall.

The Zmaj deliberately formed a line just at the shield's edge, ready and waiting for the invaders to funnel through the small opening, the only space they could get through. It's a highly defensible position, with the wall as a second line of defense. Of course, if they don't defend that opening and masses flood through, the wall will only be a delaying mechanism. Ensuring they have to funnel through will allow our forces to pick them off as they come in.

A familiar flash of bronze scales draws my eyes.

Melchior.

I watch as he takes a position in the front lines, his lochaber held confidently in front of him, his stance alert. I feel a stab of fear as the invaders finally reach the shields.

There are so many of them, they almost behave like a liquid, hitting the shield and pooling, their numbers widening around it, testing the boundaries, even as they inevitably start to funnel through the small, deliberate opening.

From my vantage point, I can see just how much of a difference there is in our numbers. There are a lot of them. Too many.

I look back at Melchior, watching anxiously as he easily disposes of one of the creatures, smashing it in the face with the handle end of his weapon.

He dodges the next one as it slices at him with a short sword, the lethal blade just missing his side.

I hiss at that near call.

Whirling around, he brings the lochaber down in an odd looping motion the invader cannot defend against. Its head rolls off and onto the ground in the next instant, but there are ever more of the creatures rushing in to take its place.

The knot in my gut is nearly unbearable, even though I know he has to be brave. Even though I know I shouldn't be feeling so protective of him. It isn't like we're together, not like we're in a relationship even if we apparently share dreams and visions now. We're just friends. Co-workers even.

Then the shields flicker. It's barely noticeable, there and gone, but it sure catches my attention.

And the attention of the invaders pressed up right against the curve.

A couple of them pop through at the flicker, clearly shocked at how abruptly they’ve left their friends behind on the other side of the shield. Two of the Zmaj break off and make quick work of them, but if the shields fall—we'll be overrun in no time.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

I glare down at the machine.

My original idea was to replace the glass, but that will mean a downtime of maybe fifteen seconds, if all goes well. That's fifteen seconds too many with that freaking army pressed up against the shield, just waiting for an opportunity.

"Think, Addison," I mutter, staring at the machine. I go through and discard various ideas, my brain hyper-focused. Melchior is down there, at ground zero. I need a solution. Now.

"Okay, okay, okay," I mutter to myself, standing to pace. "If I can't replace the glass, I need to replace the charge. But I can't take the fucking glass out..." I freeze.

There was a spare part Kate left behind...

It just might work. I run back through the cave system, hoping the part is still where I remember it being . . . that it's the one I think it is . . . that it'll actually work.

I almost sob with relief when I find it.

Picking it up with a grunt, I run back the way I came, the other women giving me curious glances as they stand ready to defend their home if any of the invaders manage to get through.

"What are you doing, Addison?" Fallon calls out as I pass her.

"Trying to get the shields to hold!" I yell back, my arms burning from the weight of the part. I reach the shield generator, falling down to my knees with the part. I'm definitely going to feel those bruises later, but I ignore the pain.

The shield flickers again, this time for longer. I look out there, see a sudden influx of maybe twenty more of the invaders. A couple of them get through the Zmaj this time, the group too large to keep back. The women step up with their sharpened poles, stabbing and skewering the would-be slavers. I look away grimly.

The next flicker might be even longer.

And that will be that.

But I have to shut out that thought as my hands move swiftly, steady and accurate. I can't mess up.

This, right here in front of me, this is all that can matter to me right now.

Taking a deep breath, I connect the thing, cutting and twisting some wires together, making sure I don't jostle the glass and break it while I struggle to get the new addition into place. It's just a hair too large to fit comfortably, so I have to wiggle it just right, aware of the fragile nature of some of the parts...

Click.

There!

Okay, now if I just slide this over, it should produce an energy loop that should keep the shield at full capacity for hours.

Not forever—if I keep it connected the way it is, the glass will explode with the constant rush of input. It will need to be disconnected periodically to keep that from happening—but that's a problem for the future. We can install alternate shields when that downtime needs to happen with the main system. And that can wait until we're not under fucking attack, right? Right.

I slide the final part into place and hold my breath. If I did it wrong, the shields might fail altogether.

I stare at the translucent energy field, fear a cold, hard rock in my stomach.

It doesn't fail.

In fact, the thing brightens. It looks stronger.

Excitement rises up inside me as I get to my feet, looking down at the melee at the front.

They have things back under control, the invaders funneling neatly through the only place they can. My eyes find Melchior, still fighting, obviously healthy and whole, his lochaber swinging forcefully.

I... did it.

I mean, we're not out of the woods yet, but if the shields stay strong and we continue to mow through the attacking army like this, we will survive.

I almost can't believe it. I look at the shield generator again.

"You ugly piece of twisted metal," I murmur in awe. "Thank God you're here." I don't give a rat's ass about how it looks if it works!

I stay in place for a bit longer to make sure the shield continues to hold.

Then I run down to grab a pointed spear of my own and join the women inside, ready to defend against the invading horde. With the shield now in place and the funnel intact, it turns out to be more of a wait just in case scenario.

Something I'm totally for as I watch the Zmaj mow down creature after creature, their muscular bodies flexing and leaping tirelessly, lochabers swinging hard as they chop and stab at the attackers.

I start to wonder if the mob is never-ending, if there will always be more of those armored bodies, more of those blue-skinned faces behind any that are taken down. But eventually, the rush turns into more of a trickle. And then the trickle turns to stragglers. And then the onslaught is over.

I almost don't believe it as the quiet settles over us, the sounds of lochabers, of swords and knives, of cries of battle and of death finally gone. The quiet feels almost too quiet after hearing it for so long. We all wait, as if to make sure it really is the end.

When no more of the invaders show up, sentries are posted to keep an eye out, and the Zmaj finally come back inside, exhaustion clear on each and every face.

But spirits are also high. By some miracle, despite the length of the battle, there were no casualties. There are some wounds that need to be tended to immediately, but mostly everyone got away with only minor ones.

My eyes automatically search for Melchior—there! Covered in gore and sweaty from battle, he looks tired but otherwise whole as he comes in with the rest. His head swivels from side to side too, until his eyes land on me and linger. I wait in place as he walks over.

"Are you all right?" I ask when he stops directly in front of me.

"Yes. And you?" he scans me, even though I've been on this side of both the shields and the wall this whole time.

"Better than you," I point out.

He smiles tiredly.

"Yes." He glances back at the carnage that will have to be taken care of at some point. Just not immediately. "I saw you go to the shield generator." He turns back around, his gaze thoughtful. "How did you stop the shields from failing?"

"I made an energy loop with a spare part Kate left behind. But it isn't a permanent fix," I warn. "If we leave it as is for too long, the glass will explode."

He shakes his head, the admiration in his eyes warming me from the inside out.

"You are the reason we all survived today," he says. "And if the glass explodes now, we will simply sweep it up and thank it for lasting."

That surprises a grin from me. “True.”

"Guys! Who wants breakfast?" Fallon's voice has both of us looking over.

The women are already heading over to the kitchen, getting the cooking going.

"We should wait here until the afternoon," Melchior murmurs. "To be sure there is not going to be another attack."

I nod. That makes sense. Melchior needs rest. We could be helpful here, plus it's probably safer for us to leave when the suns are fully up in the sky, and we can see threats coming from farther away.

So we stay.

I head over to help with the food prep while the Zmaj go to clean up after the fight.

The division of labor feels a little old-school, but it's also just plain practical under the circumstances. With so many hands on deck, it doesn't take long to get the food together.

"How did the two of you...know?" Penelope asks as we all sit down to eat. "That we were about to be attacked, I mean?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" Fallon reiterates, frowning. "The sentries and scouts still hadn't sent a warning over. You were way ahead of them."

I take a deep breath and let it out, a little uncomfortable with saying this out loud, but it's what happened. I've never tried to run from the truth. Well. Usually.

"We both had a dream...a vision," I explain. "We...saw the invaders coming towards us. Towards the wall."

"A vision?" Olivia repeats, exchanging a glance with Mei. "How did you..."

Mei leans towards me.

"How did you know it was real?" she finishes for Olivia. It's a fair question.

"We both had the same one at the same time."

That sets all of them back in their seats. I can see them trying to process it. That's all right. I'm still not sure I have. I take another bite of food.

"That's...amazing," Bailey finally murmurs. "I'm so glad you were here!"

That gets a round of agreement from the others.

And sets off a round of questions in me. Was that the reason for that first dream we shared? I frown down at my plate. Was it simply to get us out here to the Tribe in time? Did Tajss accurately predict what our response to sharing that dream would be?

Were we maneuvered?

As the talk moves on to other matters, like the cleanup that's going to be necessary outside and then the shielding, I come back to the conversation. Whether my suspicions are true or not, I'm glad we were here to circumvent what could have been a real catastrophe.

"The workaround I did to keep the shields up isn't a solution that can just be left as-is. We need to put a backup in place to cover so the glass can be changed out before it explodes from the pressure. Without being left without a shield to speak of in the interim."

"Shit, we'll take it," Fallon mutters, looking around at the others. "Those shields saved our butts today, Addison."

The murmurs of agreement are all heartfelt. I feel a little uncomfortable at the attention, but luckily, the children break up the moment.

Zoe runs up to Olivia, trailing the twins who run up to their own mother, Mei. They're all ridiculously adorable, with their rounded faces and tiny horns.

"Mom, look what I found!" Zoe cries out, holding up a pretty rock.

"Me too!" both Elneese and Ganeese chime in, holding up their own loot.

Everyone laughs as the kids run around the table to show off the glimmering rocks.

When Zoe runs up to me, her blue eyes shining, her pretty red hair up in two lopsided ponytails, I feel my heart swell.

When she trips as she gets to me, I move fast, wrapping an arm around her tiny waist.

"Whoah, there! Are you okay?"

She nods at me, her eyes large as she holds out the rock.

"Oh, wow!" I exclaim dutifully, bending over to get a good look. "That is truly gorgeous."

"Gorgeous," she repeats, her little rosebud mouth curving as she repeats the word. "Mom, it's gorgeous!" she announces, running away once more.

I chuckle, paying Elneese and Ganeese the same attention so they don't feel left out. All the while, I feel almost an ache as I watch all the beautiful children, a combination of both their Zmaj fathers and their human mothers. Like they're awakening a maternal instinct inside me. I feel a flash of unease at the thought, so I push it away. I have no desire to be like my mom. I try to keep that part of me locked down as we finish breakfast. It's safer that way.

We don't spend much more time with the Tribe in any case. By the time afternoon rolls around, we're back out in the desert.

This time, Melchior helps me across. After seeing exactly how much faster and easier it is to travel with his help, it seems silly to refuse to do so. Especially if it means we're ultimately safer because we're spending less time on the journey. It doesn't mean that I'm not fully and completely aware of his body, his closeness, the feel of his arm around me...

I glance up at his face, highlighted by the blazing suns. His gaze is intent, focused on the space around us, watching for any threats. I look away again, the feminine part of me responding in a way I wouldn't have expected. Yeah, I can take care of myself. But it's nice knowing Melchior is there too, especially out here.

Because I'm attached to Melchior like a monkey, we reach the city a whole lot faster than I would have expected. Unfortunately, my expectation of getting back into the swing of things, settling back into my routine, is immediately dashed.

As soon as we enter, we see Zmaj warriors gathering, a sense of urgency in the air. Melchior's jaw clenches at the sight, his eyes scanning the crowd.

"There," he says abruptly. "Visidion."

I hurry after him as he makes his way through the crowd. What is going on?

Visidion turns to Melchior when we near, his face hard.

"The mining settlement is under siege," he announces before either of us can ask what's going on. "Can you come?"

Melchior doesn't even hesitate. "Yes."

What? I feel completely flummoxed at this sudden turn of events. The mining settlement is under siege? And Melchior's going to run off into that danger? I feel my heart racing too fast in my chest, feel a slight edge of nausea at the thought.

Forcing myself to take a deep breath, I try to think passed the triggered emotions. Melchior isn't my father. I'm not a little girl again, watching her dad leave her. But damned if I'll just stand back and allow shit to happen.

I'm an adult now. I have the power to decide what I'm going to do. And I refuse to let him leave alone.

"I'm coming too," I announce, feeling the rightness of that decision in my bones. This is the first time I'll be signing up to join relief efforts, and I know it's the right decision.

Melchior turns to me in surprise, scowling.

"What?" he asks, reaching out to grip my arm, pulling me to the side. "It is not safe, Addison! You cannot come!"

"You're still going," I point out stubbornly. "I'm coming. Unless you'll stay?" He shakes his head, frowning. “Yeah, I thought so.”

"I want you to remain here. Where it is safe," he tries, his tone softening.

I shake my head in return. "No, I'm coming." I slide my hand over his, where it still grips my arm. His hold is firm but gentle. He would never hurt me, not intentionally. "Who else can you have visions with? Who else can watch out for you?" I ask, meeting his concerned gaze. I understand the concern.

I don't want him to go either, but I know trying to keep him here isn't a good idea. I don't think he would listen anyway, his sense of responsibility is too great. It's one of the reasons why I admire him so much. He's just a good person, deep down, where it counts.

His face softens at my question, his hand loosening somewhat.

"There is that," he agrees, his eyes searching my face. "I simply...want you safe.”

I swallow past the knot that appears in my throat. I can see that. Can see that he wants me to be safe. And I understand.

I don't know what this is between us, if it's going to just be friendship or if we're going to move into something more, but in either case, I care too much about him not to want to keep him completely safe too. But we don't live in a world where we can do that. There's danger around every corner and sometimes we have to face it head on.

"Melchior...there's no place that's completely safe here on Tajss," I murmur.

He sighs, his eyes shifting from mine to my hand where it still rests against his. He's quiet for a moment, a mix of emotions crossing his face. But eventually he relents. Like he's having a hard time telling me "no." When his eyes meet mine once more, there's acceptance in them.

"You will not take unnecessary risks," he orders.

"Of course not," I agree. "I'm not Rambo."

He frowns. "Rambo?"

"I'm not an idiot," I try instead. "I'll be safe." As safe as the situation allows anyway.

He nods, the anxiety still touching his face while everyone rushes around us. But there's no way to completely alleviate his fears, not when we're headed directly for the danger.

You know, I used to be bored on the ship sometimes.

Sometimes...I really miss that.