On any other day, there would have been hundreds of people in the landing field’s vicinity: children using the space for games, unprincipled individuals hoping to pilfer from the transports, as well as those who used its central location as a meeting space, the closest thing the camp had for neutral ground. A few days out of the month, a makeshift open-air market operated there, where the meager goods and services the refugees had to trade could find willing clientele. They’d held religious services in the space, as well as impromptu performances to appreciative crowds. At night, those seeking a place to gather for quiet… or not so quiet... celebration would find their way to the field, and more than one young couple had used the space for romantic trysts. If one could consider any location to be the camp’s heart and soul, it was here.
Today, it was deserted. Word of the Aggaaddub arrival had spread through the camp like wildfire, and no one was willing to risk catching the Troika’s eye.
Blye, Prash, and Velsa stood waiting at the edge of the field as the massive shuttle appeared high in the sky, slowly making its way to the surface, along with an Ixian honor guard and a handful of workers drafted for their muscle. Amar was at the quarantine site, just as she’d promised while the Chevalier Deuxième mentally crossed her fingers and prayed the Troika’s stay on this would be both short and uneventful.
“I do not care for this,” Spata Zhai said darkly, eyeing the approaching ship warily.
“None of us do,” Prash agreed, “but it wasn’t like we could turn them away.”
“Then let us hope we can treat their injuries quickly,” Blye told the others. “We must do nothing to anger them or give them cause to see us as the enemy. We minister to their medical needs, and then send them on their way.”
“... the sooner the better,” Velsa said softly, as the imposing ship set down onto the soil . Zhai barked a command to his fellow warriors as they snapped to attention, while the others stiffened as the shuttle doors slid silently open, a ramp appearing at its base. They could see a phalanx of Aggaaddub warriors just inside the craft, their weapons held at the ready, flanking a delegation that began marching down to face their hosts.
The reptilians towered over the humans and their allies, standing almost two and a half meters tall. They moved with a deliberate, plodding gait, their heads on the swivel as they inspected the terrain for potential threats. That there were none to be found did little to assuage their suspicions. The delegation came to a halt a short distance from the Terrans, their leader glaring at the receiving line.
“I am Kaihautu Yugha,” he growled. “Who is in charge here?”
Blye bowed respectfully. “I am the chief administrator of this camp, Kaihautu. Chevalier Deuxième Blye Tagata, of the Knights Hospitaller. On behalf of my clan, we welcome you.”
The massive alien stepped forward, closing the distance between them. His scowl deepened as she gazed up at his towering presence. “Who is in charge?” he repeated, the inflection of his words leaving no room for doubt as to his intentions.
Swallowing, she bowed her head. “... you are,” Blye whispered. The others quickly adopted her stance and posture, abasing themselves before the Aggaaddub. Even the Ixians’ demeanor was now one of respect.
Grunting, the Kaihautu acknowledged her willingness to accept the status quo. “Circumstances have forced us here, Terran,” he snarled, “and the sooner we are shut of this world, the better for all concerned. Understood?”
Lifting her head, Blye gazed up at the Aggaaddub commander. “I couldn’t agree more,” she said with utter sincerity.
The alien cocked his head, debating if he was being mocked, before deciding to press forward. “We will begin offloading our wounded immediately. Are you prepared to receive them?”
“We are,” Blye informed him. “We will transport them to our clinic and....”
“... We will transport our wounded,” the reptilian alien interrupted. “We will also observe all interactions with our fellow crew, to ensure their safety.” The warriors flanking him bristled slightly, expecting an order to open fire.
“I can assure you, Kaihautu, that your crew members will be treated with both respect and dignity as if they were our own,” she said hurriedly, struggling to keep events from spiraling out of control. It had taken less than a minute for this first meeting to go off the rails, which didn’t bode well for the days ahead.
“We shall see,” the Aggaaddub retorted, glaring at the group once more before jerking his head towards the ship. One of his subordinates spoke into a communicator, passing orders, as moments later a new procession of warriors began filing out of the ship, each group of four escorting a stasis pod. The pods were each fitted with anti-gravity assist, the containers coasting silently through the air as their escorts guided them forward.
We need to get them to the clinic now, she frantically reasoned. The longer they stood out here, the greater the potential for something to go wrong. As belligerent as the Kaihautu was already, it wouldn’t take much to set him off. If she could just get everyone to the infirmary, have them focus on medicine instead of intimidation, she had a better chance of containing the situation before it got any worse.
“If you will follow me,” she told the newcomers, leading the party back the way they’d come. She quietly buttonholed Prash and Velsa on the way, sending them ahead to prepare for their arrival, before sidling up to Spata Zhai to do the same.
“When we arrive, have your cohort peel off and return to camp,” she ordered the Ixian. “Their leader is on a hair-trigger, and I don’t wish to provoke him. Keeping you and them apart is safer for everyone.”
Glancing at the Kaihautu, he managed a curt nod. “I don’t disagree,” he said sotto voce, “but I dislike leaving you and the others unprotected.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“We’ll be fine,” she assured him. “We can take care of ourselves.”
The Ixian gave her a dubious look. “The refugees need you more than we do,” she explained. “Look after them… just as you always have.”
“I swear it will be done,” he vowed, before giving her a modest bow in tribute. “Be careful, Blye of Terra,” he said quietly, “for this camp has need of you as well.”
She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so instead, Blye merely smiled and briefly touched his arm. Arriving at their destination minutes later, she saw that Prash and Velsa had already cleared a path into the clinic itself, shoving several of the cots to one side to make room for the stasis pods. The Aggaaddub guided the sarcophagi-like containers into the open space, lining them up one by one until the last was in place.
With the Aggaaddub commander welded firmly to her side, she inspected the containers, using her personal tablet to translate the readouts to Terran Standard. “May I ask what happened, Kaihautu?” she inquired. “It would help me better treat their injuries if I knew the cause.”
The alien scowled. “The Yīqún attacked our ship,” he said with obvious distaste. “They forced their way through the hull and converged on Engineering, causing heavy damage before we finally drove them off. These are the survivors of that skirmish.”
“That explains the radiation levels I’m seeing,” she nodded in understanding before moving to the next capsule. “It’s a good thing you had these stasis pods available, otherwise they would have succumbed to their injuries before you could bring them here.”
“I am aware,” he grunted. “How quickly can you heal them?”
“It’s not that simple,” Blye explained. “After I complete my initial examination, I must decide which patients to treat first. I simply don’t have a large enough staff to minister to all their injuries at the same time. Thankfully, the pods allow me to stagger my efforts, so long as their energy source remains charged.” She froze, then turned to the reptilian. “How long do their power cells last?” she asked him.
“More than long enough for your needs,” he sneered, glancing about the space. “Before our arrival, I had expected nothing quite so… primitive.” The disdain in his voice was unmistakable.
“We make do with what we have,” Blye countered. “We Terrans lack the mighty Troika’s wealth,” she said, keeping her tone neutral. If the camp’s conditions didn’t meet his imperious standards, he could bloody well take his people elsewhere, though she kept that thought to herself. “But to answer your question, the physical injuries I can treat far more easily than I can the radiation poisoning. That’s going to take time. Now, if you would prefer, I can stabilize your crew, alleviate the worst of their symptoms so that you may transport them somewhere more befitting their station.” As soon as the words slipped past her lips, she recognized it was a huge lapse in judgment. She had no love for the Troika either, and the Kaihautu’s arrogance was all but impossible to ignore, but damn it, she knew better.
Sadly, any hopes she might have cherished about the remark passing by unrecognized were promptly dashed. “Mind your tongue, Terran,” he snapped, “or risk losing it forever.”
He’s not bluffing, Blye acknowledged with sick realization. And it wouldn’t end there, unless she was very careful the Aggaaddub would take their frustrations out on the camp itself… on the refugees and her own people. A quick glance at Prash confirmed he was all too aware of that possibility, his eyes gone wide as he silently begged her to stop, before it was too late.
Blye slammed the lid shut hard on her feelings, bowing her head and screwing her eyes tightly shut as she fought to control her emotions. “I beg your forgiveness, Kaihautu,” she choked out past strangled vocal cords. “My words were intemperate, and I crave your understanding that circumstances have left all of us in fragile states.”
There was a pregnant pause, as the reptilian chose his next words. Blye prayed to Mother Terra with all her heart, hoping against hope the Aggaaddub officer would stay his hand.
Perhaps the benevolent deity heard her pleas. “Speak for yourself,” the Kaihautu said derisively, but made no further comment. Given the circumstances, that was a win or at least a temporary reprieve. “And you have not yet answered my question,” he added.
Fearing to meet his gaze, Blye kept her head bowed. “Should you wish them only to be stabilized, I can accomplish that in short order. If, however, you wish them to be healed, that will take time. Weeks, at least.”
“If mere survival were all I wished for, I would not have come here,” he rumbled, “as the stasis pods are more than adequate for that purpose. While this war rages, we have no intentions of idling about, Terran. During the time in which you treat our injured, we will also repair our vessel in orbit. When both tasks are complete, we will return to the Yīqún nest we located, and burn it to ashes.”
“May Holy Mother Terra look upon your endeavors with favor,” she said with all honesty. As much as she might detest the Troika personally, the Yīqún were far worse. Despite their many faults, at least no one could accuse them of destroying the Terran homeworld, though upon reexamination perhaps it was merely a difference in degrees.
“If you wish your crew to be fully healed,” she continued, “then I suggest we start with this patient… Nyanzvi Jenkai,” Blye explained. “The patient’s injuries, while severe, can be handled with surgery followed by post-operative care. With your permission, I would prefer to treat each patient individually, so that we may devote all our attention to their recovery.”
In fact, drawing out their stay was the last thing she wanted. Nothing would please her more than to see their backsides when they finally departed, but the various races of the galaxy had learned long ago to tiptoe carefully around the Aggaaddub and their ilk. The new Terran-led Alliance might have challenged their ancient hold over the Perseus Arm, and even seen some measure of success, but openly defying the Troika’s power was still a fool’s errand and the surest way to a quick and early demise.
The big lizard weighed her words, before nodding his assent. “So be it,” he said at last. “The damage to our vessel will take time to mend, so best we use that time to ensure the crew is well looked after.”
“As you wish,” Blye agreed, despite her true feelings.
With that decision now made, the Kaihautu looked to his escort and jerked his massive head at the door. Saluting, the other Aggaaddub turned and filed out, their heavy footfalls making the ramshackle clinic tremble as they departed. Watching them go, it was hard not to let out a long, drawn sigh of relief.
“My security detail will not be returning to the ship,” the alien informed her, as her heart sank. “Instead, they will take up residence here, so they may ensure their brethren are not harmed.” Her head jerked up in shock as a wintry smile touched his eyes. “I am quite certain you have no wish to see your precious refugees come to any harm, is that not so?” The pettiness and triumph in his statement were like punches to the gut; both staggering and unnecessary.
“The Knights Hospitaller have always given those in our care our very best efforts, offering both our expertise and our compassion,” Blye said in a rush, “there is no need to take hostages.”
The Kaihautu was singularly unmoved by her words. If anything, his smile grew wider.
“Please,” she begged, “these people have already been through so much, lost so much. Do whatever you wish to me, but I implore you… leave them out of this.”
The Aggaaddub commander approached, coming to a halt mere centimeters away. She could smell his last meal on his breath as he towered over her, his massive size an overwhelming presence that was impossible to ignore.
“Understand me well, Terran,” the lizard hissed, “nothing is more important than the healing and recovery of my crew. I suggest you give them your very best attention, for your survival, and the survival of those you protect depends on it.”
He gave her one last glare before turning and following the others out of the clinic, leaving them all in a state of shock.