Chapter 4 part 6

#### The Cold, Hard Truth

Loki. A planet as deceptive as it was unique. Its environment resembled an arid desert at first glance, barren and golden under the faint glow of its twin stars. Yet, this desolate facade belied its true nature. Its air, inexplicably rich and breathable, put many terraformed worlds to shame. Most spacers opted to leave their breathing support systems off while exploring Loki—keeping them active here was simply wasteful. Still, the planet’s temperature betrayed expectations, turning bone-chillingly cold during its long winter cycles.

Though I don’t often flaunt it, my exo-suit is custom-engineered. It might look like standard galactic exploration gear, but beneath its unassuming exterior lies advanced nano-thermal technology. The suit shields me from the cold’s relentless bite, ensuring warmth without the need for cumbersome life support modules. It’s a quiet luxury, one that I appreciated deeply as we prepared to disembark.

But not everyone in the group enjoyed such comfort.

"Keep your sensors primed, and focus on hostile vessel detection," Lunar ordered.

"Understood," Stella replied, her voice muffled by the imposing combat armor she wore.

Ahead of me, she moved with surprising ease despite the bulky full-body combat armor encasing her from head to toe. The armor was a marvel of engineering, clearly designed for combat in hostile environments, but here, on a breathable dwarf planet, it seemed wholly unnecessary. Loki's cold air could nip at you, yes, but combat armor's thermal systems weren’t made for this specific kind of chill.

"That armor’s not calibrated for Loki’s winters," I muttered to myself, watching her stride beside Goressa.

Behind them, Lunar and her mid-range team followed, ever alert. Lunar’s plasma-guided targeting device glimmered faintly in the dim light, her eyes scanning the barren landscape with the precision of a seasoned tracker.

"Oh, this is that...?"

"Yeah... looks like it."

Aioi and Yunikon whispered quietly, sharing observations I couldn’t hear. Normally, I might have joined in their chatter, but today I chose silence.

On Loki, blending into the quiet seemed only natural.

For two standard solar cycles, we trudged across the cold, sandy plains, our movements deliberate and slow.

The air was still, the silence broken only by the soft hum of our equipment and the occasional crackle of Lunar’s targeting device.

It was dull work. Loki’s emptiness had a way of gnawing at your patience, turning even a short patrol into an eternity.

But for Stella, the monotony was the least of her concerns. Her armor’s systems were clearly strained, her life support indicators flashing subtle warnings. The suit’s thermal compensators, built more for combat zones instead of extreme temperatures, weren’t handling the planet’s subtle, pervasive chill well. On top of that, Lunar was constantly keeping watch as they moved, leaving no room for rest.

...Someone should just tell her to recalibrate that armor already.

I'm not particularly fond of protocols and wouldn't usually interfere, but it's starting to look painfully stressful, and I can't stand to watch...

"Let’s take this route," Lunar commanded, her targeting device glowing faintly as she adjusted our course. The glow reflected off her visor, lending her an air of certainty as though she could see pathways hidden to the rest of us. The desolation of Loki stretched endlessly around us, a cold desert of golden sands and chilling winds. Amid the quiet, the only signs of activity were the drifting forms of small bots and long-abandoned sensor probes floating idly. They moved like the husks of forgotten sentinels, silent and purposeless.

“Mister Narwhal,” Aioi’s voice broke through my thoughts, hushed yet pointed. She gestured toward her holographic navigation display, its surface flickering with faint, irregular lines. “Look at this—energy signatures, faint but visible.”

“Huh?” I leaned closer, focusing on the dim traces.

“Judging by the pattern, they’re from a large cargo vessel,” she continued, her voice more subdued now. “Looks like it moved through here, heading toward the path Lunar diverted us from.”

I frowned, glancing ahead at Lunar. She walked with purpose, her targeting device in hand, its faint glow pulsing steadily. “You think she spotted this and adjusted the route to avoid trouble?”

“Probably,” Aioi replied, her admiration evident. “She’s good at this—tracking, scouting. Her instincts are sharp.”

...Impressive.

I studied Lunar more closely, noting how the targeting device seemed to guide her movements, deliberately steering us away from where potential threats might be lurking.

She wasn’t merely using it as a tool; it was like she was tracing invisible threads through the atmosphere.

Was it just skill, or something more? A latent ability, perhaps?

Whatever it was, it worked. Even in this sparse, seemingly empty sector, she moved as though she were navigating a field of hidden dangers.

“Stella,” Lunar’s voice came suddenly, sharp and precise, “your life support indicators are failing. What’s going on?”

Stella stiffened, her voice faltering. “I-I’m fine,” she stammered, but the strain in her tone betrayed her words.

Ah, Lunar finally broached the topic. It was evident from the start that Stella wasn't feeling well, but now she looks like maintaining her system is a daunting task.

“Don’t lie,” Lunar said flatly, halting mid-stride and turning to face her. “If your systems fail out here, you put everyone at risk. Be honest.”

Stella hesitated, her shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s... really hard to keep up,” she admitted at last.

Lunar halted the navigation, exhaling deeply.

“Remove the armor,” she ordered, her voice firm but not unkind.

Stella blinked, caught off guard. “W-What?”

“You heard me,” Lunar replied. “That armor is overkill for this mission. Loki’s atmosphere is pristine, and that full combat gear isn't designed for this cold environment. You’re exhausting yourself for no reason. Strip it off and switch to a standard environmental suit.”

"...I apologize." Though reluctant, Stella began unfastening the heavy plates of her combat armor, her hands trembling slightly as she worked. Mamu stepped forward to assist, her movements efficient as they removed the cumbersome pieces one by one. Underneath, Stella’s base layer clung to her frame, her expression a mixture of embarrassment and relief.

Lunar handed her a spare environmental suit, sleek and lightweight, perfectly suited for Loki’s conditions. “Put this on. It’ll protect you from the cold without draining your energy.”

As Stella donned the new gear, Lunar turned her attention to me. “Secure the armor in the storage compartment. Use magnetic locks. It’s heavy, so don’t let it shift or fall.”

I sighed, stepping forward to comply. The discarded armor was surprisingly light for its size, the alloys clearly of advanced design. Still, it was bulky and awkward to handle, and I had to wrestle with it to secure it properly in the storage unit.

Nevertheless, it seemed like I had to do it. It felt orchestrated, almost.

“I’m... sorry,” Stella murmured, her voice quiet as she avoided meeting anyone’s gaze.

“It’s fine,” I replied, perhaps a bit brusquely. I didn't want to continue the conversation much. What should I do? Damn it, I can't bear seeing this girl so pitiful.

Lunar resumed her position at the front of the group, her voice cutting through the awkward silence. “Now that one of our close-range defenders is down, we’ll proceed with extra caution.

A dull, grueling mission—an endless march weighed down by her struggles. The strain she places on others is undeniable... Is this truly her first interstellar deployment? Is this hell? I'd probably end up traumatized if it were me.

"After we finish scanning this sector, we’ll return to base. That will conclude today’s mission.”

“Understood,” came the collective reply, and we pressed onward.