Since the arrival of the Aggaaddub, the atmosphere surrounding the camp was that of a city under siege. Even though Kaihautu Yugha had returned to his ship as promised, and taken the uninfected with him, their mere presence in the system cast a pall impossible to ignore. Their ship in orbit could still obliterate the camp without warning, and the Troika was not noted for compassion. They cared nothing for this place, and those that lived here knew it would take only the most minor of provocations to trigger their wrath. So the residents trod lightly, casting a nervous eye skyward, praying their dread enemy would complete their repairs in short order and depart this world.
Until that day arrived, however, there were still patients to be treated, refugees to be fed and housed, as well as a host of other administrative details that came with running a camp of this capacity. Treating the Aggaaddub had priority, of course… the sooner they were rid of them, the better… but Blye and the others refused to ignore their other duties.
So it was no minor accomplishment that she was able to escape the clinic for a few hours to make her weekly rounds; not only seeing to ailments that might have been left untreated, but it was also a chance to speak to those that called this camp home directly. To hear their complaints, address their concerns, bolster morale when needed, but also to put a face to the camp’s administration.
To let them know that someone actually cared.
As she neared the hut that served as their outpatient clinic, a familiar sight caught her eye, though one unexpected. Dozens of refugees of all ages were drilling with quarterstaffs, led by a trio of Yait’xaik laborers, the same ones that had approached her and the other Knights on the subject several weeks earlier. Initially, she’d hoped to lead regular sessions with those interested, but with the discovery of the Precursor vault, and then the quarantine, not to mention the recent arrival of the Aggaaddub, finding the time to train had become impossible. She knew Prash and Amar led sessions when they could, but sadly the demands on her time no longer allowed for it.
So it was a pleasant surprise to see so many of their residents hard at work, swapping strikes and parries with their sparring partners. They were raw and unseasoned, but they were also throwing themselves into the training with an almost infectious enthusiasm. The clack of staff against staff brought a smile to her face, as she changed direction and headed for the training grounds.
One student spotted her as she approached and waved, drawing the attention of the novice trainers. The session quickly ground to a halt as the class recognized her, converging on her in excitement as the Yait’xaik leaders tried to maintain order.
“Hello everyone,” she smiled. “I’m thrilled to see so many of you out here practicing. I hadn’t realized the quarterstaff had grown so popular.”
“We get more students joining us every day,” the young trainer said proudly. “There’s not a lot of distractions here, unfortunately, so individuals are always looking for ways to fill the time.”
“Plus, it’s fun,” one student added, earning chuckles from the others.
“I’ve always thought so,” she agreed. “Sometimes focusing on the simpler things helps us focus, when so much seems beyond our control.”
Sober nods all around, as one of the others raised a hand. “Could you show us a few moves?” they asked hopefully. The others eagerly agreed, even the erstwhile trainers themselves.
“We do what we can, but we’re really novices ourselves,” the spokesperson shrugged. “If you could spare a few minutes, I know the class would appreciate it.”
“Well, I suppose a few minutes wouldn’t hurt,” she grinned, setting down her medical kit as the class chattered excitedly amongst themselves. “Back up and give us a little room,” Blye told them, as she waved the three Yait’xaik over. “Instead of running a quick class on techniques, are you up for a little sparring?” she asked them.
The trio looked at one another. “As long as you take it easy on us,” one hedged.
“You have my word,” she smiled. “Take positions equidistant around me, to make it interesting,” she told them, as she assumed the middle guard position. “Notice how I place my feet and orient my body,” she told the class, as the others took their places. “Balance and centering are key. Lose either of them, and you’ve lost the match.” The students watched with rapt attention as she told her opponents, “Now, come at me.”
They were wary at first, doing little more than circling her as they decided on their first move. Blye waited as well, allowing them to come to her. The point was not so much to show off her skills, but to instill confidence in the students that they too could master this ancient art… though she wasn’t above giving them their money’s worth.
A look passed between her opponents a couple of heartbeats before they committed. She’d been waiting for that, and as they started their attacks, she pivoted to her rear and swept the legs of attacker number one, knocking him off his feet. The Yait’xaik she’d turned her back on moved in for the kill, but she was already moving, driving the butt of her staff into his belly. He oofed as she knocked the wind out of him, before hooking her ankle behind his and throwing him to the ground as well.
Seeing his two companions knocked down in the span of a few seconds made the third trainer reassess his options, choosing instead to backpedal and put distance between them. Blye mirrored his movements, staying close on his heels when he reversed himself yet again and swung his staff for an overhand strike. Their staffs smacked together as she parried the blow, sweeping it aside as she followed up with one of her own. Not wanting to injure her opponent, she pulled the strike at the last moment, robbing it of most of its force, yet still tapping his skull hard enough to make him stagger and lose his balance, before falling to one knee.
Placing the tip of her staff on his shoulder, Blye asked, “Do you yield?”
The dazed alien rubbed his cranium and nodded. “Once was enough, thank you.”
Chuckling, she helped the trio back to their feet, one by one, before facing the other students. “Considering they first picked up a staff just a few weeks ago, they did very well,” she said with a smile.
“But you took out all three of them in just a few seconds!” someone from the audience pointed out.
“I’ve also been training with experts for years,” she reminded them. “The staff isn’t something you can master overnight, so don’t be discouraged that you’re not fighting at my level. With time and dedication, you can absolutely become as skilled as I am.” With that, she turned and bowed to her opponents. “Thank you for the match. I’m grateful for the opportunity, and you should all be proud of the work you’ve done.”
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Her words mollified the trio as she retrieved her medical bag. “Now I really must dash, but keep at it everyone!” she said with a jaunty wave, before resuming her trek to the clinic.
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It was several hours later that she finished up with her last patient, an older Durzix with a severe vitamin deficiency. Blye gave her a hypospray to get her levels up and a diet plan, though that was dependent on the supplies they received. She urged her to come to the clinic if her symptoms returned, before closing up and heading for the quarantine site.
As she drew near, she spotted Spata Zhai and Amar overseeing a handful of workers hard at work burying the vault, though the work was far from complete. The pair glanced over in her direction as she approached; the Ixian shrugging helplessly as she came to a halt.
“They are working as quickly as they can, but this is no simple task,” he said, forestalling her. “If you wish the site to be truly hidden, it will take time.”
“Time is the one thing we don’t have,” Blye reminded him. “If the Kaihautu starts sniffing around, or that ship in orbit implements a deep scan of the camp, we’re finished.”
He flashed her an irritated look. “Had we started when I first warned you of this place, we would have finished by now,” he snapped.
Amar stepped in between them. “Look, what’s done is done. Besides, you couldn’t expect her to just ignore the site without at least examining it, did you?”
The blue-skinned warrior gave off a guttural growl. “Terrans,” he spat, “you are like children, playing with things you do not understand. Has your race ever encountered a button it didn’t push?”
The two humans shared an embarrassed look. “He’s got us there,” Amar said awkwardly.
“Maybe,” Blye admitted, “but how else are we going to learn?”
“By listening to older, wiser heads,” the Spata fired back. “We elder races have millennia of experience in these matters, and you disregard our warnings at your peril.”
“... someone’s in a mood,” she muttered under her breath, before glaring back at the Ixian. “Tell me something, where were those ‘Elder Races’ when Earth was destroyed? When we begged for safe harbor? When we were attacked, again and again, because we couldn’t fight back?”
“This galaxy is no place for the weak,” he snorted, “and if your race cannot survive its hardships, perhaps it is because it was not meant to.” He rested a meaty palm on the hilt of his sword. “Only the strong will persevere.”
Blye folded her arms across her chest. “If you’re not willing to come to our aid, then don’t be surprised if we ignore your advice,” she sniffed. “Cooperation is a two-way street, Spata Zhai.”
“Bah!” he growled, sweeping her argument away with the wave of his hand. “We will complete the work when it is completed. If you wish it done sooner, find more laborers.”
Her reply was cut short as her comms warbled for her attention, with Prash’s image on the screen. Answering the call, she said, “This is Blye.”
“You need to get back here now,” he said in a rush. “We just got word the Aggaaddub are taking a shuttle down, and they are furious.”
She swallowed nervously. “Did they say what’s got them upset?”
“No, they didn’t,” he answered, “but it doesn’t take a genius to guess what’s riled them up.” He stared at her anxiously through the screen. “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly, “but we are not giving up. I’ll be there as fast as I can. Tagata clear.”
Looking up from the communicator, Amar and the Spata’s faces were a study in horror. “Get this thing covered up now,” she ordered, “we may not have much time. Tarps, branches, whatever it takes, just get it out of sight!”
Amar reached out and grabbed her arm. “What are you going to do?” he asked her, echoing Prash’s words.
Blye just stared at him. “... I don’t know,” she whispered, before pulling free and racing for the clinic.
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She arrived minutes later, her chest heaving with the effort. Prash met her at the door, while Velsa hovered in the background. “They’re inbound as we speak,” he told her. “ETA, five minutes.”
She nodded, casting about the space. “How are our Aggaaddub patients?”
“Responding to treatment,” he assured her. “No issues there, at least.”
“Thank Mother Terra,” she sighed in relief. “They didn’t give any hint what was wrong?”
“No, nothing,” he said unhappily. “Just that they were on their way down, and they wanted to see you immediately.” Their heads snapped up as the sound of an approaching shuttle filled their ears.
“Looks like they’re early,” she winced, before waving him forward. “Come on... if we’re going to do this, then let’s do it right.”
The pair headed outside, shading their eyes as they watched the alien shuttle come in for a landing. Blue fought back a snarl when she realized they weren't bothering with the actual landing field, aiming instead for the clinic itself. Several makeshift tents and shelters were unfortunately in the way, though as their thrusters came on they blasted those out of the way, along with any refugee unfortunate enough to get caught in the blast. Several were sent tumbling as the shuttle came in on final, setting down on squat landing gear as the engines shut down.
A section of armed Aggaaddub warriors marched down the ramp, with Kaihautu Yugha in the lead. He made a beeline for the waiting Knights, as his guards fanned out to encircle the clinic itself.
Bowing her head, Blye assumed a position of respect. “Greetings, Kaihautu…” she began, only to cry out in pain as the reptilian grabbed her by the throat, yanking her off her feet.
“Did I not warn you regarding the price of treachery?” he hissed. “Was I unclear?”
Blye struggled within his grasp, scrabbling against his oversized mitt, fighting to breathe, while Prash immediately went to her aid. “Please, tell us what is wrong,” he begged the commander. “Whatever it is, I’m certain we can…”
With a roar, he backhanded the young Knight, sending him flying. “Spare me your lies,” he snarled, “for I have learned the truth.” His massive head turned to look over his shoulder. “Bring forth our guest,” he ordered.
Moments later, a lone finger appeared in the hatch, much smaller than the guards flanking him on either side. Blye’s eyes widened with sick realization as she recognized the recent addition; Captain Shunaadh, of the Taisen Jit, the Bamidh merchant who’d tried to capture her and the others, intending to sell them off to the highest bidder.
The same individual she had secretly injected with toxin, so she and her team could escape.
“So we meet again, Chevalier,” he chortled, savoring her predicament. “When the Kaihautu’s ship began transmitting a quarantine signal, I knew you were up to your old tricks. It was a simple enough matter to contact their vessel and tell them everything.”
Prash was struggling to get up as Shunaadh came to a halt within arm’s reach of Blye. “I warned you that you would pay for your crimes,” he purred, savoring the moment as she dangled from the Aggaaddub’s grasp, “... and now you have.” He leaned in close, his smile positively repellant. “I just wanted you to know I was the one that brought you down.”
Two of the guards emerged from the clinic, dragging out Velsa, their Ksot nurse, while two more grabbed Prash and hauled him to his feet. “Secure our crew members,” the Kaihautu ordered, “and once that is done… kill the rest.”
With a final burst of effort, Blye fought against his grip, but it was like wrestling steel. Prash struggled with his captors as well, with no more luck than she had. The pair made eye contact, as they saw death coming for them.
“... WAIT!”
All heads turned to the sound as the shrill cry cut through the commotion.
Velsa shook with fear as she faced the commander. “They found a Precursor vault!” she screamed. “It’s right here, in this very camp!”
Blye managed to get a lungful of air. “Velsa, no!” she howled in anguish.
The terrified nurse turned to the Knight. “I respect you, Blye… but I’m not willing to die for you.” She looked back at the alien leader. “Let me go, and I’ll take you right to it.”
Kaihautu Yugha peered closely at her. “If this is a trick…”
“It’s no trick, I swear,” she beseeched him, pointing towards its location. “It’s right this way.”
All the fight went out of Blye. A single tear rolled down her cheek, as all her worst fears came true.