The underground settlement’s Great Hall was alive with colour and sound as Seru’nai led the away team through its large double doors. The space was filled with light; it wasn’t firelight or the strange roof lights, but rather a series of amber stones that had been set into the walls, each connected to the other by luminescent veins of crystal that pulsed rhythmically with the sound of distant drumming.

Long, curving tables had been carved into the floor of the cavern, their surfaces polished and smoothed to a mirror finish. Bowls of vivid fruit, steaming platters of roasted fungi, and pitchers of clear, sparkling liquid were arranged in symmetrical patterns all along each table.

Seru’nai led the away team through the rows of murmuring villagers towards a head table that sat upon a raised dias, where the three Elders sat. The central one, draped in robes of a deep indigo colour, inclined their head as the trio was brought forward.

“The Stone has spoken!” the Elder intoned. Their voice carried a low resonance that reverberated around the hall, causing the murmuring of the crowd to subside. “It has welcomed these Skyfarers. May harmony dwell between us.”

T’Luni stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “We are honoured by your hospitality. We hope to learn much about your people.”

The Elder’s eyes gleamed like polished silver as they regarded her. “Learning is the first step in Harmony. But tonight, there are no questions. Only song.”

With those words, the chamber came alive. The air was filled with music unlike anything the officers had heard before; melodic tones produced not by instruments, but by hollow stones struck in precise, deliberate rhythm. The sound reverberated through the floor and up into their bones, seeming to almost synchronise with their own heartbeats.

“Whoa,” Tanna said, placing a hand on her chest. “You feel that?”

Craig gave a slow, uneasy nod. “Yeah, and I’m not sure I’m on board with it.”

Seru’nai led them to a trio of empty pillows laid on the floor behind the graceful curve of the head table and motioned for them to sit. Once they were settled, plates were set before them by younger members of the village, each dish accompanied by a whispered blessing. The fruit had a sweet, metallic tang, and the drink shimmered faintly when poured, casting threads of light across their hands. The away team ate happily, conversing with the Elders and Seru’nai as much as the translator would allow.

T’Luni, ever composed, had let her curiosity shine through and began taking notes between bites. “The flavours are… complex,” she murmured to herself, “Fungal base, likely protein-enhanced. The drink contains bioluminescent compounds. It tastes…”

“…Like TV static,” Tanna finished with a grin.

“It does have a certain… electrical quality about it.” T’Luni agreed.

“Like licking a nine-volt battery,” Tanna said.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

The feast went on for hours, with members of the village coming up to the head table to ask questions of Craig and his crew, or to present gifts or small offerings to them, which made Tanna squirm with discomfort on her pillow. One group even put on a kind of ritualistic performance, acting out an ancient event with strange illuminated headdresses that pulsed in time with the music and ornately carved wood and stone staffs.

As the dancers began to twirl and spin faster, the music sped up to match the pace. The villagers stood and began chanting rhythmically in time. Tanna noticed that she and the other officers were also on their feet and had also started chanting, although they had yet to learn the language. The dancing, the music and the chanting came to a frenzied crescendo at the same moment, then suddenly came to an abrupt halt.

For a moment, the only sound was a faint hum rising from the floor. Tanna felt it vibrate up the entire length of her body, from the soles of her feet to the ends of her hair. The air inside the Great Hall was charged with energy. She glanced around, and all of the villagers were swaying gently with their palms up and their eyes closed, as if caught in a shared trance. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the resonance stopped. The villagers dropped their hands and opened their eyes, almost in unison.

The indigo-clad Elder rose, and the villagers followed suit. Craig had to be helped to his feet by Tanna because his leg had fallen asleep. The charge from the strange ritual left her feeling giddy and light-headed, and she had to fight to suppress a fit of giggles as he stumbled upright.

“The Feast has ended,” the Elder said. “The Stone has heard your voices. Tomorrow, the paths will be open to you.” The hum returned, but softer now, almost soothing. The villagers began slowly trickling out of the hall in groups, and Craig noticed the lights outside had gone from their ‘daytime’ to ‘nighttime’ setting.

Seru’nai gestured for them to follow. “Come, you will rest now. Tomorrow, I will show you the passages that go deeper. You will find our history there.”

Together, the away team followed Seru’nai out into the open cavern and were once again struck speechless by what they saw. From the very bottom of the walls where they touched the floor of the cavern, all the way up the curved ceiling to the six large shafts where the light came from, the walls were covered in swirling lines, handprints, lines of text, and points of light, all painted with a soft green bio-luminescent paint, like stars and constellations in the night sky.

“When a villager comes of age,” Seru’nai said, sensing their quiet awe, “They add their mark to the rest.”

“There must be thousands of them…” Craig said softly.

“Or more,” Tanna agreed. “How do they get them up so high?”

“Those are the oldest marks,” Seru’nai replied. “They have been here since before the time of the Elders elders.”

“Remarkable,” T’Luni said. No one spoke again for the remainder of the walk.

The village was quiet outside the open window of the guest quarters. The interior was lit with the soft glow of more wall-mounted amber stones, flickering like firelight. Their sleeping palettes were arranged in a half-circle, woven from the same shimmering material that made up the rope bridges, and covered with surprisingly soft mattresses.

Craig kicked off his boots with a sigh and swung his legs up onto his bed. “That was a feast and a half.”

Tanna laughed softly as she also stretched out on her palette. “I’m still not sure that glowing drink wasn’t alive.”

“It was perfectly safe,” T’Luni said from her corner, where she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, though after a moment’s pause she added: “Probably.”

Craig flipped over and shot her a look. “That pause is not inspiring confidence.”

She folded her hands in her lap, calm as ever. “Its properties suggest a mineral-bio hybridisation. Like sparkling water. I assure you, Commander, you will remain unharmed.”

“Yeah, these people seem really nice,” Tanna said lazily. “I think I’m going to spend some time around the villagers tomorrow. I’d like to learn their daily routines and try to make some sense of their language.”

“That’s a good idea,” Craig replied. “I’m planning on speaking with the Elders again to learn about their religion. Their theology is… structured. Consistent. And they speak of this, this stone like it’s a living being.”

“Then I will accept Seru’nai’s offer to delve deeper into the tunnels,” T’Luni stated. “I am curious to learn more about their history, and perhaps discover how they arrived here.”

Craig settled back into his bed and let the soft hum surround him. His eyelids were getting very heavy. “So deep passages for T’Luni, language lessons for Tanna, and a theology crash course for me. Sounds like a plan.”

The wall lights dimmed further, then went out, letting the cool silver-blue light from outside flood the space. The room went quiet, nothing left but the sounds of slow, steady breathing and the soft hum of the Stone playing its strange, resonant lullaby. Within a few minutes, the entire away team was fast asleep.