Chapter 21 #2
“I have spoken ill of star-cousins,” Dorek said, stripping off his cloak and shirt to expose his heavily marked arms and chest. “I have questioned their honor, worth, their right to be here. But this Destran—” he gestured at me, “—he took a blast meant for mate. He offered sacred marks to save a world he does not call home. He shows more courage than I have shown wisdom.”
Dorek picked up the collection device with a resigned sigh and placed is against his arm. “If he sacrifices for her, I sacrifice for all of us.”
Zara activated the device again, and I watched Dorek’s face tighten with pain as the extraction began. But like me, he made no sound. When it was finished, he put the device back on its holder and examined the tiny scars crossing one small section of his marks.
“It is done,” he said simply, then looked at the other D’tran warriors. “Who is next?”
One by one, they came forward. Vikkat, then the others, each placed the device against their marked skin and endured the extraction with stoic silence. The Kythrans watched with something like awe, and I saw Thresk’s expression shift from fear to respect.
When the last D’tran had contributed their sample, Zara turned to me. “The computer is indicating that it has enough genetic material. Thresk, can you input it into the system?”
The Kythran elder moved to the collection device and began the transfer process, carefully loading each sample into the main interface. The crystalline structure accepted them one by one, the patterns flowing across its surface like living things.
“Now we try again,” Zara said, her hands moving over the console with renewed confidence. “Everyone in position. Kythrans, prepare to execute the shutdown sequence. D’tran, stand ready. Torven?”
“I’m right here,” I said, moving to stand beside her.
She looked up at me, and I saw fear and hope and love all mixed together in her expression. “This has to work.”
“It will work.”
“I hope so.” Her brow creased into a worried mess. “What if I’m wrong? What if I missed a step or read the data wrong or—”
“Rivers, stop.” I smiled gently at her and placed my fingers on her lips to silence her. “Do it.”
Zara blinked at me, her brown eyes stricken, then turned back to the console. She looked at Thresk and the two of them initiated the sequence.
This time, the response was different. The crystalline structure glowed, but it was a steady, controlled light instead of the violent flaring from before. The patterns on the walls began to flow again, but they were moving toward the interface in orderly streams, rather than chaotic torrents.
“It’s accepting the input,” Zara breathed. “The genetic verification is working. It knows we’re not attacking. It knows we’re cooperating.”
The Kythrans’ hands moved over the controls, and I watched as the shutdown sequence began to execute.
Not all at once, but in careful stages, tower by tower across the planet.
The screens showed maps of the weather network, and I saw indicators blinking out one by one as each station received the shutdown command and complied.
One of the Kythrans began speaking rapidly and I didn’t need a translator to hear the wonder and relief in his voice.
“Yes,” Zara said on a broken laugh. “After all these cycles, it’s ending.”
But the tower was still shaking, the storm outside still raging. The system was shutting down, but damage had been done. The atmospheric instability wouldn’t calm immediately just because we’d stopped the source.
“How long?” I asked. “How long until the weather stabilizes?”
Zara asked Thresk, then relayed what he said based on the data scrolling over the screen, which she couldn’t read. “He says very soon. The system is releasing its control, but the communication between towers is slow.”
I moved to the window and looked out at the apocalyptic landscape. The wind was still tearing at everything in sight, the lightning still crackling across the black sky. But as I watched, I saw the first signs of change.
The lightning was easing. The wind, while still violent, was no longer increasing in intensity. The oily rain had stopped, replaced by ordinary water.
“Look,” I said, pointing.
Everyone crowded to the windows, and we watched as the storm began to die. Not quickly, not peacefully, but unmistakably. The system was releasing its grip on the atmosphere, and nature was taking over.
The clouds started to break apart, revealing patches of sky that weren’t black or green or purple, but a normal, healthy blue. The wind dropped from apocalyptic to merely dangerous, then to strong, then to moderate.
By the time the last tower on the network map blinked out, indicating complete shutdown, the storm outside had calmed to what looked like ordinary rain. Heavy rain, yes, but nothing that would kill us. Nothing that would poison the air or tear the land apart.
Silence fell over the control room, broken only by the sound of normal rainfall against the windows.
“We did it,” Zara whispered. “We actually did it.”
I pulled her against me, careful of my sore marks and burned back, and kissed the top of her head. “We did.”
Around us, the Kythrans were embracing each other, their usual fear replaced by joy and relief. The D’tran stood quietly, looking dazed and wearing expressions I couldn’t quite read. Pride, maybe. Or shock that it actually worked. Probably both.
Vikkat was the first to move. He crossed to where Thresk stood and placed his large hand on the Kythran’s thin shoulder. The gesture was gentle, respectful.
“You saved us,” Vikkat said. “Your people. Your knowledge. Without it, we would have failed.”
Thresk looked up at the massive D’tran warrior, his dark eyes bright with tears. Zara murmured what Vikkat said to Thresk, who said something in return.
“He says that we saved each other,” Zara said. “That is how it was always meant to be.”
Dorek approached slowly, glancing at his own scarred marks, then at Thresk. “I owe you apology. You and your people. For violence. For hatred. For blaming you for sins of ancestors.”
Again, Zara translated, and I could see the strain around her eyes as she did so.
She’d mentioned that the translator gave her headaches, and I was eager to see her role as interpreter for the two species come to an end.
Not quite yet, though. “He says that they owe you the same,” Zara replied.
“For hiding. For setting traps in the caves that caused injury to your people. For not trying again to reach out. For letting fear control them.”
The two of them stood there for a moment, representatives of species that had been enemies for as long as anyone could remember, and something shifted in the air between them. Understanding, maybe. Or the beginning of forgiveness.
“What happens now?” one of the D’tran warriors asked.
“Now?” Vikkat looked around the control room, at the deactivated systems, at the calm weather outside. “Now we go home. We tell our people what happened here. We begin the work of healing a broken world.”
“The Kythrans want to help,” Zara said quietly. “They say they don’t have much time left in the mortal realm, but they are glad that there will finally be healing.”
Zara was still pressed against my side, and I could feel her shaking with relief and exhaustion and the aftermath of terror. “Rivers?” I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Are you okay?”
“Define okay,” she said, her voice muffled against my shirt. “We just shut down a planetary weather control system, nearly died multiple times, and somehow convinced two species that have hated each other for generations to work together. I think I’m entitled to a minor breakdown.”
“Minor?”
“I’m being optimistic.”
Despite everything, I laughed. Trust Zara to maintain her sense of humor, even while processing trauma.
“We still need to find our crew,” I reminded her gently. “And get off this planet.”
“I know.” She pulled away to look up at me. “But first, we’re taking a moment to appreciate that we’re alive. That we succeeded. That we didn’t get killed by angry warriors or crushed by a collapsing tower due to unruly weather.”
“It’s a very good moment.” One I hadn’t been entirely sure we’d have.
“It is.” She rested her head back against my shoulder. “I’m really tired, Torven. I’m really, really tired.”
“I know.” I held her closer, feeling my own exhaustion pulling at me. “But we’re almost done. Just a little further.”
Through the window, I could see the landscape outside the tower.
It was still scarred and damaged, still showing the effects of millennia of atmospheric abuse.
But the sky was clearing, the rain was normal, and somewhere in the distance, I could see the first hints of the sun breaking through to the tortured ground.
Life would return to a world that had been dying for so long.
It would take cycles, maybe tens of cycles, for the planet to fully heal. But it would heal. And the species that called it home would learn to work together instead of fighting. They’d have to, or risk falling back into the same patterns that had nearly destroyed them.
But that was a problem for tomorrow. For now, we’d saved a world. We’d proven that cooperation was paramount and that trust and sacrifice could overcome hatred and fear.
And we’d done it together. Just like the ancient engineers had planned.
I touched the raised scars on my mating marks and felt no regret. They were proof of what we’d accomplished, proof that love and partnership were worth any price.
“Ready to go find our crew?” I asked Zara.
She sighed but nodded. “Ready. And then, let’s go home.”
Home. The word had never sounded so good.