Chapter 18 #2
I spread the substance over his burned skin as gently as I could, wincing at the feeling of his ruined flesh.
The effect was almost immediate. The blood flow slowed and the swelling eased.
It would take time to heal, but if this was, in fact, lami, it would keep out infection and speed his healing.
Torven’s breathing eased and his expression relaxed. “Less pain,” he rasped.
The medicine worked. I capped it and handed the small jar back to them. The Kythrans had just proved their good intentions in the most tangible way possible. And something inside me broke completely.
“You fools,” I said, and I was crying now, really crying. “You absolute, idiotic fools.”
I looked around the chamber at the destruction—the smashed equipment, the scattered data cubes, the Kythrans nursing their injuries, the D’tran standing there awkwardly.
“Do you see what you’ve done?” My voice was raw.
“My scanner is destroyed. The only tool we had that could navigate these caves, that could analyze the weather systems, that could maybe—maybe—have given us some edge in understanding how to fix this. It’s gone.
Pulverized. Because you couldn’t control your rage for five minutes. ”
I gestured at the scattered technology. “And look at all of this. Data cubes that might have contained answers. Equipment that might have been useful. Information that could have saved lives. All of it destroyed because you needed to hurt someone, anyone, even if it meant hurting yourselves.”
Vikkat started to speak, but I cut him off.
“No. I’m not done.” I stood up, leaving Torven on the floor.
“You talk about corruption? About Destrans losing the old ways? Look at yourselves. You just attacked helpless beings, destroyed your own chances of salvation, and nearly killed the one person who’s been trying hardest to keep all of you alive. ”
I pointed at Torven. “That male has done nothing but try to help you. He shared information, and he took a blast for me that was fired by one of you. And you call him corrupted? If anyone here is corrupt,” I went on, my voice dropping to something cold and furious, “it’s you.
Not the Destrans. Not Torven. You. You attacked the helpless.
You destroyed knowledge. You nearly committed murder based on crimes that happened millennia before any of you were born. ”
I turned to look at the Kythrans, who were watching with those large, dark eyes, and switched to their language. “And you. You’ve been hiding down here for generations, trying to fix this alone. Why didn’t you try to contact the D’tran? Why didn’t you try to work together?”
The eldest Kythran spoke. “Fear. Our forebears tried, long ago. We were hunted. Killed. We learned to hide.”
“So everyone just gave up,” I said bitterly, switching languages again.
Using the implanted translator always gave me a headache.
It was one of the reasons why I took the time to learn any language I knew I’d be speaking a lot of.
Now, my head was a throbbing cap of pain.
Pounding anxiety, which was causing me to run my mouth in a room full of fully armed warriors who didn’t like me, was not helping.
“The D’tran gave up on finding solutions and focused on revenge.
The Kythrans gave up on cooperation and hid in their caves.
And now we’re all here, in this broken chamber, surrounded by destroyed equipment and wasted opportunities, while the planet dies around us. ”
I sank down beside Torven, exhausted and hopeless.
My fingers dug into my temple, as if I could route out the pain there and toss it away.
“I can’t fix this. I thought I could, but I can’t.
My equipment is destroyed. The systems are too complex.
The species involved won’t work together.
And even if they did, we don’t have the knowledge or the tools or the… ” I trailed off, too tired to continue.
Torven’s hand found mine, his grip weak but steady. “Rivers.”
“Don’t,” I said. “Just don’t. I failed. We failed. It’s over.”
But it wasn’t over. Because Vikkat stepped forward.
His massive frame crouched down to look me in the eye.
“The human female speaks truth,” he said.
“We dishonored ourselves today. Acted like beasts instead of warriors. Attacked those who could not defend themselves.” He turned to the Kythrans.
“Tell them, we apologize. For this violence. For generations of hatred. For forgetting that we are all victims of this horror.”
I told the Kythrans what Vikkat said. One by one, the other D’tran lowered their heads in acknowledgment. Even Dorek looked chastened, and the shame in his expression suggested he’d be dealing with this moment for a long time.
The eldest Kythran spoke, and I translated automatically. “They said your apology is accepted. That they, too, have failed. Failed to reach out, to try again, to believe cooperation was possible. They have hidden in fear when they should have had courage.”
“Then we start now,” Vikkat said. “No more violence. No more hiding. We work together or we all die together.”
It should have felt like a victory. Like a turning point. But all I could feel was the weight of everything we’d lost. My equipment. Our advantage. Precious time.
And nearly Torven.
I looked at him, this male who’d thrown himself between me and death without hesitation, and felt something crack open in my chest. I’d known I cared about him. I’d known the mating bond was real.
But until that moment, watching the energy blast coming toward me and seeing him move, I hadn’t fully understood what it would mean to lose him.
I hadn’t understood that losing him would be losing everything that mattered.
“You’re too brave for your own good,” I whispered to him.
He smiled weakly. “I learned from the best.”
Despite everything, I felt my lips twitch. We were trapped in a cave with angry warriors and terrified Kythrans, my equipment was destroyed, we had no way to navigate or analyze anything, and the planet was dying around us.
At the end of the world, at least we were together. Even if it was all we had.