The great Farian mother ship descended slowly through the planet's thick cloud layer, its metal hull creaking with effort, automated stabilizers groaning under the strain of uneven gravity. Flames licked harmlessly across the shielded exterior, painting the sky with streaks of orange and red as the vessel cut through the atmosphere of the unnamed world below.
The decision had been made swiftly—there was no other choice. Their ship had taken too much damage, and further long-distance travel without repairs would be suicide.
Bian entered the control room just as the main viewscreen shifted from the black expanse of space to the hazy greens and browns of the planet below. His boots clicked against the floor as he marched forward, his sharp eyes scanning the screen. He came to a sudden stop, his brows drawing into a deep, suspicious frown.
"Why are you going toward that planet?" he asked sharply, his voice carrying over the hushed movements of the crew.
