Novak's return to the land of the living was welcomed with the screeching greeting of a crow. He lay in bed, still in a daze, watching through the window as the black-feathered bird eyed him with cold indifference from the branch of a nearby tree. It cawed again before fluttering off into the morning sky, leaving him alone. He first thought nothing of the crow, then remembered he had crashed on another planet. It left him wondering how New Terra's flora and fauna might have spread across the galaxy—or if they'd been brought here by human colonists. But he quickly dismissed such thoughts and shifted his attention to more immediate concerns.

  As he sat up in bed, his head throbbed, and the events of the previous night came flashing back to him. The attack on the Firehawk, his team's raid on the Nrac cruiser, the crash landing of his escape pod after narrowly escaping the battle, and an encounter with... humans? Novak rubbed his temples as he tried to recall what happened after the crash. He remembered seeing other humans, but they were not from the Firehawk. They were wearing primitive clothing, like something out of a history vid, and they spoke with strange accents. "They patched me up," he said to himself as the memories began to clear.

  Now that he was fully awake, Novak examined his surroundings more closely. Wooden construction, twenty beds, and three supply closets full of shoddy medical supplies told him this was some kind of low-tech infirmary. The room was lit by natural light from the window, but sconces were scattered about for candles as well. Despite the primitive nature of the facility, it seemed clean and well-maintained.

  Novak looked down at his body and saw that someone had dressed him in a simple linen tunic while he slept. His hardsuit had been removed entirely, though he noticed it sitting on a nearby table along with his weapons and equipment. He stood up from the bed and stretched his limbs before making his way over to inspect the pile of gear. Everything appeared intact, though it was all covered in dirt and dried blood. "Guess I owe someone a thank you," Novak muttered.

  The sound of footsteps approaching from outside drew Novak's attention, and he instinctively reached for his mag carbine and brought it to his shoulder as he faced the door.

  

  The errant thought caught Novak by surprise, but not nearly as much as when the door opened. A familiar bronze-skinned girl entered with a bucket of water in one hand and a mass of bandages in the other, both of which she immediately dropped when she noticed Novak standing there with his weapon ready. "Really!?" she shrieked. "Again!? I swear to the Maker..."

  Novak slung his weapon over his shoulder and raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you."

  The girl sighed and bent down to retrieve her supplies. "Well, you did," she replied curtly.

  He looked the girl over as she stood back up. She wore a plain linen robe, and her short dark hair was messily cut like she had done it herself with a knife, but she had a pretty face and striking sky-colored eyes. As far as Novak could tell, she was just as human as he was, but he wondered how she ended up on this planet with the rest of these people. This was supposed to be uncharted territory, untouched by humanity—or so he'd been told.

  Novak watched as the girl placed the bucket of water and bandages on a nearby table before turning to face him. "So... you're awake," she remarked. That's good, but I need to change your bandages."

  Novak nodded as he sat down on the bed. The girl walked over to the table and retrieved a pair of scissors and some gauze before returning to his side. She cut away at the bandages wrapped around his chest and shoulder until they were loose enough for her to peel them away. "You were there last night," Novak said as she worked. "When I... fell."

  The girl nodded as she began cleaning his wound with a damp cloth. "I was," she replied. "You were pretty beat up when we found you. Looked like you had lost a lot of blood. We weren't sure you would make it through the night."

  "I... uh... thanks," Novak said awkwardly. "For helping me, I mean."

  "Of course," the girl replied, reaching for a batch of fresh bandages. "Just do me a favor and quit pointing that weapon of yours at me every time we meet, okay?"

  Novak chuckled. "I'll try my best," he promised.

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  As the girl moved to apply the fresh bandages, she paused momentarily and shot Novak a curious glance. "Hmm. Your wounds are healing well," she remarked. "Incredibly well, actually. It almost looks like you didn't even need the sutures."

  Novak shrugged. "I've always been pretty quick to get back on my feet, I guess."

  The girl nodded as she finished wrapping the fresh bandages and tied them off. "Well, Mr. Quick Healer, you should still take it easy for a few days," she instructed him. "Your body may heal fast, but that doesn't mean it's invincible."

  "Understood," he nodded.

  Novak watched as the girl collected her supplies and headed toward the door. "Wait," he called out after her. "I… have questions."

  She stopped at the door and turned to face him. "Right, then. I'll answer what I can," she said.

  "Who are you?" he asked. "And what is this place? Where even am I?"

  "You don't remember? I suppose that's understandable, given your injuries," she replied. "I'm Celia. Cecelia Moore. I'm an apprentice here."

  "I'm—"

  "'Lieutenant Jannik Novak,' right?" Celia interrupted him. "You shouted that at me a couple of times last night."

  Novak nodded sheepishly. "Right," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry about that."

  Celia shrugged. "It's fine," she replied. "But to answer your other questions, this is the Ryntai Monastery on Condor Island. It's where I live and train with the others."

  Novak stared back at her blankly. None of what she had told him made any sort of sense. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not what I meant," he explained. "I mean... how are there humans here? I was told this system was uncharted. There shouldn't be a colony here."

  Celia raised an eyebrow. "I honestly have no idea what you're saying," she replied incredulously. "But I'm pretty sure we've always been here."

  Novak shook his head in frustration. "Never mind," he sighed. "Forget I asked. It's... complicated."

  Celia shrugged and turned toward the door once more. "Well, I need to get back to my training," she said. "You should rest for now. Headmaster Zan will want to speak with you now that you're feeling better."

  "Uh… one last thing before you go."

  The girl stopped and turned to face him, her eyebrow raised. "Yes?"

  Novak glanced about at the empty infirmary before letting out a sigh. "Was there anyone else with me?" he asked. "I… got separated from my companions."

  Celia frowned. "Sorry, but no," she replied. "You were the only one we found last night."

  "Damn," Novak growled. "Well, thanks anyway."

  The girl nodded and quickly departed, closing the door behind her and leaving Novak alone with his thoughts. He sat on the edge of the bed for a few moments before heeding Celia's advice and laying back down. He spent the next hour or so watching the sun crawl across the sky until the creak of the infirmary door heralded the arrival of the headmaster.

  Before the lieutenant stood a sturdily built man in his 50s with graying black hair. A gray set of eyes, a soldier's eyes, watched Novak with an all too familiar wariness. "Hello there," he greeted. "Mr... Novak, was it?"

  "Lieutenant Novak," he corrected.

  "I am Headmaster Zan Petrov," he introduced himself. "How are your injuries treating you?"

  "Well enough for now," Novak replied. "Thank you."

  The headmaster leaned forward, propping himself up against the foot of Novak's bed. "It seems that you will be staying within the walls of my monastery for the time being, Lieutenant Novak," he said. "We don't normally entertain visitors here, but these are extenuating circumstances. You may remain until you fully recover, but I must also ask that you refrain from causing any trouble while you're here."

  Novak gave a silent nod.

  Zan's eyes met Novak's as he continued speaking. "First and foremost, as headmaster here, my number one priority is the safety of my students and teachers," he explained. "It should go without saying, but if you do anything to jeopardize that safety, I will have you removed from this place. Is that clear?"

  "Of course."

  "Good," said Zan, forcing a smile. "Now, as I have already said, we do not typically entertain visitors. We don't have much beyond what we need for our daily lives here, aside from a small collection of reading material, but you will have free access to the monastery, excluding private dormitories, of course. You may help yourself to whatever you need, but please be reasonable; we have little to spare."

  "Thank you," said Novak. "That's very generous."

  "And one last thing," Zan added. "You may come to witness some... unusual happenings here that may or may not conform to your beliefs of how the world is supposed to work. Should you choose to ignore these happenings, and you should, I will choose to ignore that you fell from the sky in a metal coffin. Do we understand each other?"

  "We do," Novak nodded. "I'm not looking to cause any problems for you. I'll get out of your hair once I'm all healed up."

  Zan smiled and nodded. "Good," he said. "I fear your arrival may draw undue attention here, but it is not our way to abandon someone in need. Still, it would be best if you did not linger any longer than needed, Lieutenant Novak."

  "Right," Novak sighed.

  "Well then, if there is nothing else, I must return to my duties," said Zan. "I'll send someone to check on you and see to your needs, but please let us know if there are any issues."

  The headmaster gave a quick bow and slipped out the door just as suddenly as he had arrived. Novak watched him leave before turning his attention back toward the window. He stared out at the monastery's courtyard below, where several students were practicing with wooden staves under the supervision of a teacher. The students moved about in unison, striking their targets with practiced precision while their instructor shouted commands as he moved among their formation.

  "Ah," Novak remarked. "So, it's kind of monastery."