Noah stepped out of the shelter, needing air that didn't smell like sweat and recycled breath. The camp had settled into an uneasy quiet, crew members in their assigned shelters, trying to sleep despite being stranded on an alien world with Harbingers somewhere in the darkness.
Lyra stood about twenty meters away, her silhouette visible against the strange light from the three moons overhead. She wasn't moving, wasn't doing anything except staring up at the sky like she was searching for answers in the orbital mechanics of celestial bodies that didn't make sense.
Noah walked toward her, his boots crunching over the blue-tinted grass. She didn't turn around when he approached, didn't acknowledge his presence until he was standing right beside her.
"Couldn't sleep either?" she asked, still looking up.
"You know I'm going to stop you," Noah said quietly. "Right?"
