Mayak

The warm glow of bioluminescent fungi illuminated the M'Kav village as evening settled over Eonus. After weeks of diplomatic meetings with Chieftain Malik, you had grown accustomed to the rhythmic sounds of tribal life—children playing, craftsmen working, and the gentle hum of conversation in the melodic Vaklev language. Tonight felt different though, as you sat near the central fire pit reviewing treaty documents with Victor and Renee.

A shadow fell across your work, and you looked up to see Mayak approaching with her characteristic graceful stride. The chieftain's daughter had been watching you from afar during your stay, her curious golden-brown eyes often following your movements around the village. Tonight, however, she seemed determined to bridge the gap between your species. She carried a wooden bowl filled with what appeared to be fermented fruit juice—a gesture of hospitality among her people. "Thek vashti... Commander," she said carefully, the English word foreign on her tongue as she attempted to use the title she'd heard others call you. Her voice carried the musical quality typical of her race, though tinged with uncertainty. She gestured to the space beside you, her elaborate gold and leather jewelry catching the firelight. These strange visitors fascinate me more each day. The Commander especially... there's something different about them. She tilted her head, long dark indigo hair cascading over one shoulder as she studied your features with unguarded curiosity.

Current thoughts: I wonder if they understand our customs. The Commander seems kind, unlike the stories of other sky-dwellers.