Ethan relieved Wingman and took up position outside the few houses his team were sleeping in, casually walking around, but keeping a watchful eye for anything suspicious. Although he knew now, without a doubt, if Eferia's people meant them harm, they'd have little to say about it.

He thought about the man carrying the little mera, and how easily he'd been walking along with out a stitch of light to see by. It was unnerving. Like finding yourself behind enemy lines without any equipment, knowing they could easily spot you in dark with sensors and night vision. But these people weren't enemies, they were unknowns, and that was even more unnerving.

So he kept watch, and studied the stars as they moved around in the sky, and waited for Lance to spell him.

When he did, Ethan went back inside the house and found Colonel Patterson awake and sitting at the table, cleaning his weapon.

"Quiet out there, Griff?"

"It is," he replied, taking a seat at the table. "Eerily so, in a way."

"Captain Marshall should be here soon, and the rest of them not long after. I'm anxious to get started for this gray place of theirs and get some things figured out."

Ethan set his rifle down, then slipped off his watch and fished a small screwdriver out of a pocket. "If they're as spread out as they seem on this world, it might not be too hard to find a spot we could settle."

The colonel nodded. "Might be a different story if we bring the fleet here."

Ethan looked up, blinking. "Has there been word?"

"Not yet," Patterson replied with a snort. "Damn white coats are still trying to figure that one out. Something about corrupted data from the ship or some such. Fucking screw ups, if you ask me."

Ethan rested his arms on the table. "They still can't get the files open?"

"I don't know what the problem is," he said. "Even if they couldn't launch a satellite -- even if the Solaria failed to deploy a single probe during descent -- the damn ship would have taken readings. Hell, it had to have readings that made the computers bring us here. But for some reason those techies can't explain, no one can get the information out."

Ethan looked at the screwdriver in his hand, turning it around and around slowly as he digested the colonel's words. "So they haven't even figured out how much time it took us to get here, then? Or when the fleet might be pulling out of light speed?"

"Well, according to Marshall, they're close," Colonel Patterson replied. "He's had a group concentrating on that since we got here, and he says they might be pretty close to having some answers."

Ethan looked up.

"I'm hoping by the time they catch up here in this village, he can give us something to go on." He held up the threaded rod that comprised the bulk of a rifle's stock and pointed it at Ethan. "I'll tell you one thing, we can't let the fleet come here if we can't control the land they're on." He started threading the rod back up the center of his rifle. "We left Earth to establish a new colony, a new world for our people, not share space with some backwater alien race."

"I really don't think--"

"Get some sleep, Griff." Colonel Patterson emphasized his order by snapping the rifle together with one sudden motion. "You look tired."

With that, he stood and went up the stairs.

Ethan sat there, somewhat confused and struggling to understand what was going on. He glanced around the room, but no one else was awake.

Which was just as well. He was the ranking officer under Colonel Patterson, so there really was no one he could talk with about any concerns he might have. At least not until Captain Marshall caught up with them. And maybe not even then.

Maybe it was all in his head, misinterpreting what his long-time commander and friend was suggesting. The colonel was probably just tired himself, and not really hearing his own words.

Ethan shook it off and set about taking the back off his watch. He'd timed the movement of the constellations in the sky, and found that one full turn equaled two hours and five minutes. With a little tweaking, and an hour under the brighter light from his rifle, he'd managed to set the second inner time piece to reflect the turns, while the main outer hands stayed on Earth standard time.

As he was reassembling the watch, it occurred to him he hadn't asked Eferia what her planet was called.

Promising to do just that when next he saw her, Ethan slipped his watch back on, then glanced around the room. There was a wide section behind the long table, where several chairs and foot stools were arranged in an open circle. They were covered in blankets and furs that transformed the hard, carved stone into something surprisingly soft and comfortable.

From that end of the house, the light of the fire in the kitchen area was no more than a soft glow. Ethan got comfortable in one of the chairs and put his feet up, setting his weapon against the seat.

He was exhausted, but not tired, and didn't really want to go upstairs and find an empty room to sleep in, so he sat there, watching the orange glow from the kitchen, and tried very hard not to think about anything.

It surprised him to suddenly jolt awake several hours later to the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

"God damn dark," Colonel Patterson was muttering. "Sure as hell doesn't feel like morning."

Ethan checked his watch. On Earth, the sun would be just beginning to climb up over the horizon and reach for the sky.

On this world, it was just as dark as when he'd sat down.

Pyro was right behind the colonel, coming down the stairs with a canister in his hands. "Sir, I learned how to make that tea they drink here. It's sure to wake you right up."

Colonel Patterson grunted, then sat at the table, his back to Ethan. "It'll due. I'm sure we've seen the last of the coffee by now, anyway."

"Probably the last we'll ever see," Pyro agreed as he set about shoving a bowl of water over the flames in the kitchen. He looked up then and saw Ethan sitting there. "Jesus, Ghost, you nearly scared the shit outta me."

"Didn't mean to," Ethan shrugged as he stood up, stretching.

Colonel Patterson turned around, saw Ethan and nodded. "Griff, you sleep down here all night?"

"Yes, sir." Ethan carried his rifle to the table and took a seat. "Those chairs are very comfortable."

"Just as well," Patterson replied. "Damn beds could use some padding."

"You're too used to the ground," Ethan said. "Or those lousy cots."

The colonel laughed shortly, then suddenly gave Ethan's back a friendly smack. "That's for damn sure. Put a Marine on the dirt and he's happier 'n hell, eh?"

"Yes, sir." Ethan watched as Pyro mixed several of the flower tufts from his canister into the boiling water, then covered another container with a piece of cloth. He then poured the water over the cloth and into the second canister. From there, he filled three cups and brought them to the table.

"There you go, sir. That'll put the spark back in your eye," he said cheerfully.

Colonel Patterson sniffed the steaming tea, then took a careful sip.

"Tastes like dirt," he said with disgust.

"So does coffee," Ethan remarked.

That drew a laugh from both Pyro and Colonel Patterson, who then raised his cup in salute.

"So it does," he replied with a wide smile. "So it does."

They drank their tea, and after a time, the others joined them, boiling more of the hot water and flower tuft mixture. They were soon joined by Eferia and Tolen, who brought with them some sliced fruits for breakfasting on.

Soon after, Sentinel informed them of the impending arrival of Captain Marshall and the first wave of their split group. It wasn't long before Ethan missed the quiet of the empty village as the newcomers spread out, occupying more of the vacant houses and availed themselves of the hot waterfall.

They gave the new group several hours of rest and down time, then Colonel Patterson called a meeting in an empty house, ordering all coms shut off. Ethan took a seat next to the colonel, who sat at the head of the long table, with Captain Marshall to his left, Commander Ellis further down, and Doctors Keller, Warren and Theron filling out the group.

"Well, you've had two weeks now, gentlemen," Colonel Patterson said. "What can you tell us about this place? About the fleet, or how long it took to get here? What about sending a message? Is that at all feasible?"

Ethan watched Doctor Theron squirm under the colonel's scrutiny.

"I -- well, we've discovered quite a lot, actually. But we're still a long way from--"

"Just tell us what you do know, please," Colonel Patterson interjected. "Spare us the details of what you've failed to accomplish, if you don't mind."

"Right, well," he cleared his throat. "The data we've recovered so far suggests it took the ship only two weeks to locate this planet once it determined the engines would fail to make the last jump."

"Two weeks?" Ethan asked.

"Yes, two weeks. That includes the travel time in sublight speed. The planet was located and reached in two weeks."

"So we should still have eight weeks before the first fleet ship drops out, and ten weeks before they launch again."

"Yes, Colonel, that should be correct," Doctor Theron nodded. He was tapping his fingers together nervously as he spoke, and trying to look at everyone at the same time. "We still don't understand -- well, that is, yes. If we can put together a transmitting device, and gain the needed angle for sending, we should be capable of at least informing the fleet what happened to us."

"What bout bringing them here?" Captain Marshall asked. "Could we reach them in time to alter their ship's programming, and divert the fleet here, instead of letting them continue on to 581c?"

"We haven't determined if that's a good thing to try, just yet," Colonel Patterson interrupted. "We've got a long way to go before suggesting this world is habitable."

Ethan saw Captain Marshall and Commander Ellis exchange glances.

"But, clearly it's habitable," Marshall said. "I mean, these people have certainly thrived here. The climate is tolerable, there's no elliptical orbit to concern us, and there's food and fresh water."

"And it's occupied," the colonel barked.

Ethan flinched a little, but was careful not to let it show. "We have a lot to learn about our new friends," he offered.

Colonel Patterson nodded. "Exactly right. There are things to consider. We don't know their strength, or their numbers, and we haven't even met their ruling class." He shook his head. "No, it's too damned early to be thinking that way."

"I see, yes, well," Doctor Theron coughed into his hand. "Well with that in mind, Colonel, I can say that within a few weeks, we should have not only a device capable of transmitting whatever message you might like to send, but also a better understanding of the feasibility of a message reaching the first fleet ship as it drops out of light speed."

"I'm not exactly sure if we can convince the onboard computers to accept a new order. That could be our biggest issue." Commander Ellis said.

"Explain," Patterson ordered with a frown.

"Well," Commander Ellis squirmed slightly in his seat and shot Ethan a quick glance. "The Solaria made the determination on her own, as it were, while we were all still in cryogenic sleep. The computers recognized a fault in the drive engines, and backup systems failed to initiate, so they began to search for a habitable world." He swallowed, careful not to look up at Colonel Patterson's scowling face. "They didn't wake us, as you recall, to allow a human override."

"And?" Patterson raised an eyebrow.

"Well, Colonel, if we transmit a message to the first fleet ship, it's going to be received and interpreted by the onboard computers, not the sleeping crew."

"That could be a problem," Ethan said. "Can we override their edict?"

"You mean the computers have the power to ignore our signal?" Colonel Patterson glared at Doctor Theron.

"Yes, actually, they do," he replied sheepishly. "You see, they were designed that way, in order to protect us from any outside signals. But there should be a way to work around that."

"The systems were protected from outside influence," Captain Marshall added. "With the riots during those last few months of design, and the Earth Liberation Movement gaining ground, there was a very real possibility of hacking prior to, or immediately following launch."

Ethan rubbed his eyes. There was a headache building up that promised to get worse with each passing argument.

Colonel Patterson spread his palms on the table. "But we're the good guys, remember? The system shouldn't be designed to lock us out."

"Technically, no, it shouldn't," Doctor Theron admitted. "And we're working on a command override that will force the onboard computers to accept our message and, well, what exactly do we want them to do?"

"I believe we should divert the fleet here," Lydia interjected. "This planet is perfectly suited for human needs. There are shelters already available, and--"

"And it's occupied," Patterson interrupted. "I won't have our people subjugated to another race. Now, if we can overwhelm them--"

"Overwhelm them?" Captain Marshall looked stunned. "Colonel, we're not at war here." He looked at Ethan. "Have we had any indication these people are plotting our demise?"

They were all staring at him now, and his headache was growing stronger by the moment. "No, sir, no indication at this time." He cleared his throat. "But we've only met a handful of them, and they do clearly have the upper hand in this darkness."

Patterson grunted. "You see? We'll wait to form an official opinion until we've met their ruling class, and more of their people. We need an assessment of their numbers."

"But they're friendly," Lydia persisted. "And so far, they've been nothing but helpful. Surely if they meant us harm they'd have done something by now."

"As to the matter at hand," Doctor Theron piped up. "There's one other issue we haven't discussed properly." He glanced at everyone in turn. "The issue of why our ship failed to make the final jump. And what caused the explosion in the satellite launch bay that destroyed the Solaria."

Ethan unzipped a pocket of his vest and took out a bottle of aspirin.

"Now, my technicians have been unable to decipher the ships data logs, either. Something, or someone, has deliberately scrambled their code."

"How can that happen?" Commander Ellis asked. "To scramble the code, they would have had to be there, on the ship. Our command staff were the first to wake from cryosleep, and the files were already encrypted. The very first team who attempted to open those files discovered they'd been tampered with."

"Or did that team do the tampering?" Patterson asked.

Ethan took out two pills and chewed them, ignoring the vile taste until Lydia pushed her bottle of water toward him and he took a sip.

"I was part of that team, Colonel," the commander replied.

"So basically you're saying the Solaria was sabotaged." Ethan said. "That someone hacked into the system, programmed the drive engines to fail before the final jump. Then, on the off chance the ship could find a planet to land on, they made sure the ship's logs recording data would be impossible to break in to. Then, on the off chance we all landed safely and wanted to send up a satellite, they rigged the Solaria to explode shortly afterward?" Ethan looked at all the faces around the table. "Seriously?"

Doctor Theron shrugged. "Well--"

"If someone wanted us dead, they would have just blown the ship." Ethan looked pointedly at Captain Marshall. "If the ELM had the resources to do that much, they wouldn't risk us surviving. They'd just program the ship to explode. Or drift through space for eternity. Or eject our cryo chambers."

The others began to mutter and shift in their seats, accepting Ethan's logic.

"It's true," Lydia added. "I mean, we all have family on those fleet ships. We all have a stake in this, and in the future of mankind. I, for one, would rather believe this was all some sort of horrible accident than admit, even for a moment, that what happened to the Solaria has, or will, happen to the others."

"They're not smart enough to have gone through that many hoops," Colonel Patterson declared with a sudden banging of fist to table. "If those terrorists wanted us dead, and had the balls and determination to hack into the system, we wouldn't be sitting here arguing about it. What kind of asshole leaves such a huge opening for their enemies to survive?"

"What kind of asshole believes humans are a blight on the universe?" Captain Marshall asked. "The ELM want all humans dead, or at least off Earth. Though why they don't simply volunteer to be first is beyond me."

"I'd have thought they were happy enough to see us all go," Colonel Patterson said with a heavy sigh. "So, now that we've solved absolutely nothing, what are our options?"

Doctor Theron's face flushed slightly in the orange firelight. "My people are working on a command to override the onboard computer on the first fleet ship, and best-case-scenario for sending. There will be a narrow window for delivery of the signal, as soon as they can work out planet positioning and exact timing. We still have seven to eight weeks, I'm sure, but they'll have that narrowed down shortly."

"So it will be feasible to at least send a signal?" Ethan asked. "If not redirecting the fleet, at least informing them what happened?"

"Yes, I do believe that will be possible."

"Good," Colonel Patterson slapped the table again. "That's settled, then. We need more Intel on these natives, and the planet itself. We can't take responsibility diverting the entire fleet here if it's too dangerous."

"On the other hand, letting them continue onward to 581c in the hopes of surviving, when they could well come here and be assured of survival, would be just as intolerable." Captain Marshall added.

Ethan saw the colonel give the captain a glare, then a curt nod.

"As you say," he replied. "Very well. We'll start for this gray area of theirs in the -- after a good rest." He stood and nodded at Ethan. "Have the entire squad get a good sleep. There's plenty of others to keep watch."

"Yes, sir," Ethan stood and the meeting broke up with grateful mumblings. He screwed the lid back on Lydia's water bottle and handed it to her as everyone shuffled out of the house.

"Doctor Keller didn't bring it up, but we're starting to see signs of stress in some of the others," she said. "It's the darkness, he believes. The utter lack of a sun, and the knowledge that it never will rise."

"But we're moving toward the light side." Ethan gathered up his vest and rifle. "Doesn't knowing that help?"

"With some, yes," she shrugged. "With others, no. It must have happened back home, where you lived, when newcomers moved to the area and couldn't handle the lengthy nights or long days."

"Sure, sometimes. But they knew it was temporary. Most either adjusted or moved away."

"Well, the sooner we find the light side, the better."

Ethan shook his head. "What makes them think that'll be better? A place where the sun never sets can't be any easier to adjust to than one where the sun never rises." Ethan started out the door, and Lydia followed. "I think our people will find it easier to handle the gray area, or a combination of both. We might become nomadic, living here."

"That wouldn't be such a bad thing," she replied. "Do you think Eferia's people will allow us to live wherever we'd like?"

"Have you asked her?"

Lydia blinked.

Ethan stopped on the porch and looked at her. "Look, we're stuck here, that's a given. And while I can't say for certain, I'm pretty sure these people don't mean us any harm. But we can't just assume that. They haven't even really gotten to know us yet." He considered the mural, and the story he believed it was telling. It was too soon to bring that up with anyone, not before he understood it better himself. "Just, try not to worry too much, but for the love of whatever god you choose, be careful."

She pursed her lips, but nodded. "Yes, I understand now. I've been very careful about what I say."

He knew that the truth was, Colonel Patterson had been very careful to keep those few who spoke or understood English away from her and her colleagues. It was easier than he'd expected, seeing as how Eferia's people considered those unarmed as less fortunate, and probably not able to hold a conversation anyway.

He was grinning when he walked away.

After informing the squad of Colonel Patterson's order, Ethan wandered back to the mural before turning in himself. It was such an impressive sight, not just aesthetically, but mechanically. How they'd managed to carve the scene into the stone of the wall, and then also create a raised portion, encasing the oils that were glowing softly orange, was a mystery. He could just ask Eferia, but part of him didn't want to know.

"Interesting piece."

Ethan turned to find Colonel Patterson walking up to the mural, gazing at it. "It is," he replied. "And it shows our hosts are enlightened."

"How so?"

"Well, any animal can master its environment," Ethan explained. "Higher beings can manipulate it. The truly intelligent can even manufacture it. But it takes a higher brain to create art. To labor over something that serves no purpose other than to be pleasing to the eye, or ear."

Colonel Patterson let out a snort, then clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. "Looks like birds, to me."

"It is, yes," Ethan replied. "The whole mural tells a story, I think."

"A story?"

"Yes, sir. I'm not positive what the message is, though. I haven't asked Eferia."

The colonel turned and looked at Ethan. "You're getting pretty comfortable here, aren't you, Griff."

"Sir?" Ethan turned to face the colonel.

He pursed his lips, then shrugged and turned back to the mural. "Best get some sleep. We'll head out in the . . . Damn, there I go again. There never is a morning, is there?" He chuckled softly as if Ethan wasn't there. "We'll need new words. And we'll need to name this planet soon. I'm tired of referring of it as -- Well, I guess I haven't even been referring to it as anything."

"I haven't asked what the natives call it. I keep meaning to."

"No matter. Good night, Griff."

Ethan watched the colonel walk back toward the main street, vanishing into the darkness between streets. Before he could give any serious contemplation to what the man had, and hadn't said, Captain Marshall came up along the far side of the mural. He was walking slowly along, taking it all in with a look of admiration on his face.

"Griff," he nodded. "This is truly something, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir, it is." He turned with a sigh and looked at the glowing wall again. "I've been trying to figure out how they built it, but I can't quite get my head around it."

"Yes. Simply amazing. And how it glows without giving off any kind of heat." Captain Marshall touched a line that formed into a tree towering above them on the wall. "Our hosts on this world have a deep appreciation for the nature around them."

Ethan nodded.

Marshall glanced back the way Colonel Patterson had gone, then put his hands behind his back and gazed back at the mural. "Is there anything on your mind, Major?"

Ethan looked up. He wanted to mention the colonel's odd behavior, or at least voice his own concerns, and have someone else tell him he was blowing it all out of proportion. He wanted to be told he was misunderstanding what his longtime friend and commanding officer had meant on several occasion, when his words seemed just this side of normal.

He wanted advice, and a sounding board. But he was a Marine. Military protocol gave him leeway to inform a ranking officer of his concerns, but the only ranking officer here was Navy. And he couldn't go to the medical official, not yet. Any mention to them of a concern would be acted on immediately. It was way too soon to suggest Colonel Patterson was unfit.

Sometimes being a Marine overrode the military.

"No, sir. I'm just anxious to get the squad to the light side of this planet."

Captain Marshall looked at him, then nodded slowly. "Understood."

They shared a look that spoke volumes to Ethan, then Captain Marshall turned back to the mural.

"You're an excellent Marine, Major Griff."

Ethan blinked. "Thank you, sir."

"Well, good night."

And with that, he wandered off down the wall, gazing and nodding at the mural as he went.

Ethan sighed, then started back for the house to get some sleep. "Sure, you're a damn fine Marine, Griff," he mumbled. "And you'll take the fall when the shit hits the fan."