Sam realizes this and places her body underneath Mina’s, supporting the woman’s head.
She’ll run out of air soon.
We don’t have much time.
So I pound on the barrier. I pound on it even as my skin breaks and my blood begins to fill the water around us.
I feel my eyes burning…my lungs…my entire body feels like it’s protesting.
I need air.
We need air.
But the barrier isn’t breaking.
No matter how hard I pound on it, I can’t get us out.
I do a mini somersault and aim my boot at the barrier instead.
Nothing.
My lungs feel like they are about to explode and there’s pressure in my head as if my veins are about to burst.
I raise my leg one more time, but my strength is gone…
I can’t even kick forward one more time.
We are about to die.
I stare outside the orb, outside the barrier at the water surrounding us.
Freedom…so close…
As the last of my strength leaves me, something large and dark moves in the water.
A fish, or reeds maybe…I’m not quite sure.
Vaguely, I realize my body is drifting away from the barrier, floating away and I have no strength to stop it.
And Sam…Mina…they’re drifting too.
The dark shape draws closer and somewhere in my mind a thought comes forward.
That’s not a fish.
Far too large to be one.
It feels like a dream. Like time has ceased to exist and I am simply just…floating.
A sort of peace settles over me as the dark form materializes into a man.
That man.
I hadn’t imagined him.
He comes close, his hands pressing against the outside of the orb, and his eyes lock with mine.
Liquid gold…like molten lava, they pierce mine, and I wonder if he’s real or a figment of my imagination.
His features are indiscernible.
He is faceless. He is all black.
All I can see are those eyes.
He raises a hand and I imagine his fist shining with the same sort of white energy that had crawled over my skin.
As my consciousness wanes, the barrier of the orb breaks apart and he is suddenly before me.
Eyes that aren’t human look down at me but I’m too far gone to react.
I think…
I think this is the end.
Chapter Six
FER’RO
There is movement within the Scrit.
It has passengers.
I climb down its outer shell just in time to see them inside.
It’s pilot is dead. I made sure of that.
Our missiles had aimed straight for the central core that held the Gryken.
It had been unaware of our arrival, walking with its shields down.
But even with its shields up, it stood no chance.
A whole world had been destroyed while we’d discovered how to kill the Gryken, and we aren’t afraid to use that knowledge now.
What we hadn’t known though, was that the Scrit had been carrying passengers…
I’m thrown off the vessel as it hits the water and I have to backtrack to find it again. I reach it just in time to see the creature, the passenger, inside.
Long brown filaments float above its head. It is floating backward, its limbs outstretched, but I note one thing.
The calmness in its eyes.
It sees me and for a moment…I pause.
My symbiotes, my ba’clan, writhe over my skin.
They can feel it too.
The being’s cry for help, though no sound comes from its mouth.
It is dying.
We have to save it.
My ba’clan charge as I aim my fist, slamming into the Scrit’s dome.
The vessel is no longer invulnerable, and it shatters before me.
As the being floats away, I reach for it.
The first thing I notice is how small it is. Frail.
The body is weak as I take it into my arms I realize it is also…limp.
And there are more of them.
Two others within.
Also unconscious.
I sense one of my brethren approaching and signal to him.
I cannot save the others, or this one will perish.
It is obvious this species cannot breathe under water. If I do not bring this being to the surface, it will die.
A simple mental command is all I need and my ba’clan activate, aiding me toward the surface.
A message thrums from my throat, the vibrations carrying through the water to my brethren.
“More below.”
I hear a response as more of my brethren dive.
If we’d known anything about this species, we would have been better able to strategize.
But they are unknown to us.
A distant species—one we have never seen nor made contact with before.
From a world, far, far away we came to save them.
To help.
The last set of Vullan warriors committed to one final task.
After travelling across the stars for so long, seeing the Scrit made us thrum with rage pent up for what felt like eons.
The scourge we had chased across the galaxy was here.
And…we were late.
The planet was already destroyed.
Even as I think about the Scrit sinking below me, my arms tighten around the being I’m holding as anger floods through me.
My ba’clan writhe, sensing the rising emotion but I cannot help it.
We left Edooria with a sole purpose.
To reach the next target before the Gryken did.
To warn them.
To save them.
To stop the same thing that happened to us…to Edooria…from happening to them.
But…we failed before we even had the chance to begin.
Neither had we known the Scrit had passengers on board. If we had known, would we still have attacked?
But what feels like eons in the cosmos, travelling across the stars to get here, had only created a burning need to destroy the Gryken…as they had destroyed us.
It is possible we acted too quickly. Frustration can do that to a Vullan.
But the satisfaction of seeing the Scrit fall was worth it.
I grip the being to me as I rise through the water.
I can feel the liquid even though not an inch of my skin is touching it. I can feel their reaction to it—my ba’clan. They are as happy to see it as I am and there is an urge to decompress and feel it against my bare skin.
When was the last time that I felt pure water like this?
The next thought slams into me hard.
Water.
There is still water here.
Maybe we are not too late after all.
My legs sink into soft earth as I bring the being to shore.
It’s still limp, its head hanging back to reveal the soft, pale skin of its neck.
I climb away from the water and set it down on the damp earth.
Behind me, I’m aware of my brethren moving toward the Scrit’s wreckage. Above us, our ship camouflages, blending into this planet’s strange blue sky.
The being is still limp as I set it down and for the first time, I get a good look at it.
Brown filaments cling to its head. Its face is smooth with a narrow nose perched above strangely plump lips.
Its lips are cracked and bruised and I can already see the beginnings of other dark bruises forming on the being’s face.
My gaze slips down and I pause.