Eight #4
From there he pushed the little shuttle beyond its limits.
They punched through the atmosphere and he opened a channel.
“Any Alliance ship in the sector, please send coordinates. This is Ka’atari Renjik.
We escaped Sustroria’s surface but have wounded on board.
I need immediate docking authorization and a med pod on standby. ”
Silence greeted his message.
There had to be a Denchui ship in range. The tuppu deployment system couldn’t be launched from a jump away. He repeated the message, his throat threatening to close. He couldn’t watch his rhun die. The stars couldn’t be so cruel.
Partway through his third transmission, a crackle preceded a clear signal.
“Ka’atari Renjik, good to hear you made it. Please proceed to five two nine dot seven seven six dot four eight one dot three nine one. Permission to dock is preauthorized. A Molzaed team and portable med pod will be waiting.”
He punched in the coordinates and never let the engines slow until they punched through the airlock field. Like the communications officer promised, a Molzaed and hovering med pod waited. He lifted Willow and as soon as the door opened, he met them halfway.
“She was hit by a short blast from a Scozid weapon.”
The med pod opened and a healer waved her inside. He put her down and stepped back to let them work.
One of them attempted to remove Na’ashq’ii from around her neck. He started to warn them, but the creature beat him to it.
It really was impressive when it rose to its full height, lifted its plates, and hissed. The Molzaed wisely left it.
He followed the procession to med bay, where she was transferred into a permanently fixed pod. As soon as the cover closed, they turned to him. His eyes never left the pod, even as they poked and prodded his prosthetic.
He did glance over when a Trelxak tech arrived to remove the arm and unhook the nerve ports. He watched her walk away with his arm with dulled emotions. It wouldn’t matter if he got it back if she were gone.
The Molzaed tried to reassure him every so often, but he didn’t rely on them. He couldn’t. He had to see with his own eyes that she was okay.
A full half cycle passed before the cover lifted. He stood and swayed to one side, not used to the heavy cybernetic arm being gone.
The first word she spoke was, “Renjik?”
Her hand shot out to grab his when he was close enough.
“I’m here. I’m okay.”
“You’re not okay.” She sat up. “You look like shit. Have you still not slept?”
“I couldn’t leave. Not until I knew you were okay.”
She pulled on the nondescript clothes the Molzaed provided and pushed him toward the door. “Where’s our room?”
A healer tried to stop her, saying something about follow up monitoring. Na’ashq’ii hissed. Willow didn’t stop.
Renjik chuckled. “I don’t know. I haven’t been past med bay.”
“You giant, stubborn, impossible rhino,” she grumbled.
Renjik smiled. He’d follow that woman into a collapsing city. He already had.
He loved her.
The realization should have been alarming. Instead it felt right.
A Viv’aks passed by and Willow grabbed it. “We need a room.”
“Of course, right this way.”
They followed the robin’s egg blue furred docent while Willow berated him.
“As soon as we get through the door, you’re marching your butt straight to the bed. We’re sleeping for a week. Minimum. I don’t care what apocalypse happens, we’re not opening that door.”
He leaned close to her ear and growled, “that sounds like fun.”
She grinned up at him. “Okay, maybe we won’t sleep the entire week.”
The countermand reached Sustroria before they fell asleep.
It travelled through the old civic relays, across receivers civilians activated despite orders to remain silent, and finally through the freha enhek itself. Contaminated surfaces blackened district by district. The spread slowed, stopped, and died.
Not everywhere in time.
Entire neighborhoods were lost. Thousands dead, and thousands more injured or displaced by collapsing infrastructure. They’d learn the numbers later.
But millions survived.
The Vekh tried to claim the Alliance attacked Sustroria without provocation.
Their own broadcasts betrayed them. Recordings from Kerrak spread through the civilian network alongside Willow’s warning, showing the weapon test, the abandoned workers, and the orders to bring contaminated ships home.
Lower-caste crews refused commands. Civic authorities opened evacuation routes the Vekh ordered sealed.
Several military divisions turned their weapons away from the Alliance and toward their own command centers.
Once the Scozid stopped obeying, the empire began to collapse.
The fighting didn’t end that day. Wars built over generations rarely surrendered so neatly. But the freha enhek was dead, the Vekh lost control of their population, and the Alliance no longer needed to destroy a civilization to defeat its rulers.
Three weeks later, the remaining Vekh surrendered.
Willow slept through the official announcement with Renjik wrapped around her and Na’ashq’ii tucked beneath her chin.
For once, the universe managed without her.