Act 1 Epilogue - Sending aid

The system was a mess as Sola dropped out of the weave. A myriad of vessels - some looking like they had only just been made space worthy, others ancient with their hulls still festooned with museum labels - spilled out from the core planets. Dustin stared at the viewscreen, the l’Adra flotilla drifting in front of him and the glow of the shattered world at the system’s heart a grim reminder of his mission. Emely’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Incoming call, Captain.” At a nod, the redhead pulled the call up on the main screen and Dustin found himself face to face with his l’Adran counterpart.

“Ambassador C’etha. I have things to discuss with you from my government, but before that - how can we help? The Solar Ascent is at your disposal for the duration of our time in system.” Dustin said in greeting. The man on the other end of the call looked haggard; his eyes sunken hollows that spoke of days with little sleep and great stress. Inclining his head slightly, C’etha responded. “Your offer is appreciated, Ambassador. I understand you have a Queri-run medical team aboard; my adjutant will give you coordinates to integrate you into our healthcare system, or what remains of it. The level of injury among the survivors is high, and our medical capabilities are beyond stretched.”

Bleu straightened up from where she’d been leaning against Dustin’s chair. “I’ll go and prep the team. Rye, can you get the shuttles ready to fly? I’ll have first response ready to go by the time we reach the holding coordinates.” With a nod, the Rabyth woman stood and followed her out of the bridge as Dustin’s attention returned to the vidscreen where the other man continued to speak. “Thank you. With regards your government’s missive - my own ship is not that far from the coordinates; would you mind if we spoke face to face?” C’etha’s voice was tired, and Dustin nodded instantly. “Of course. Have you eaten recently? If not, I’ll make sure we have food prepared.” The man on the other end of the call ran two of his hands down his face one after the other before shaking his head. “I have not. I would appreciate it; things have been… difficult.”

Even with Sola’s engines running hot, it was several hours before they reached the designated location. Dustin had spent a chunk of that time helping Rye with prepping the shuttles, purely to keep his mind occupied with something beyond what the vessels they were weaving in and out of represented. As Sola slid to a stop, shuttles leaving the hangars were replaced instantly by incoming l’Adran vessels. Sammie and the rest of the flight staff for Sola’s fighters were on hand; Bleu having requested their assistance to run incoming patients through to the medbay for urgent cases while the doctor herself seemed to be everywhere reviewing patients and redirecting them to the different teams under her command.

C’etha’s own shuttle docked with one of the airlocks a short while later rather than occupying a landing bay. As the door opened, the tall man stepped inside and offered his hand in greeting. Dustin shook it, before turning. “This way, Ambassador - I’ve got food and calm in equal supply for you in my ready room.” As they walked, C’etha’s gaze drifted across the interior of the ship. “Your craft is fascinating, Ambassador Dustin. I regret not being able to see you in better times.” The man’s statement was unexpected, and Dustin briefly halted before continuing on. “Please just call me Dustin, Ambassador - right now, formality seems a little unnecessary. I have no words strong enough to express my sorrow.”

As he reached the door to the ready room, C’etha hesitated. “I would be worried if you did, Dustin. And if we are removing formality, likewise call me C’etha. It has been… difficult. I apologise if this is insensitive, but you have lost your parents to tragedy yourself, correct?” Dustin nodded, turning back to see the tall alien’s eyes wet with tears. “Does… does it get any easier with time?” Dustin reached out and squeezed the higher of the other man’s multiple arms. “Your parents were on the homeworld?” He asked, wincing as C’etha nodded. “My parents, grandparents and both of my uncles. Fortunately, my aunt and most of my younger relatives were outwardly minded and were either on ships or colonies. I’ve been luckier than many.”

Dustin sighed and gestured to the seats. “I wish I could tell you that it’ll be completely alright, but that would be a lie. I can say that for me at least, time made things easier eventually. Small comfort, I know.” C’etha shook his head, taking a seat and sighing. “It is something, at least. Sorrow will fade, that is good to hold on to.” Then, straightening, he steepled two sets of hands on the table. “Making myself ill will not help matters, will it? You mentioned food, I should eat before we discuss official business if you do not mind?”

The two ambassadors ate largely in silence, before at last C’etha spoke once more. “Our government is in shambles, Dustin. To tell the truth, what government we currently have in the system largely consists of me and a handful of officials that were on outposts when the homeworld was hit. They came without warning; we’re explorers, and our species has been travelling for hundreds of years. We didn’t have any defences; they gutted the homeworld, took bites out of the other planets and the hab-stations then turned our first home into a broken fireball.”

The multi-limbed alien sucked in a breath. “And the council refuses to even hear our pleas for military aid. They claim that it was a research accident, a fusion reaction gone wrong. As if that could cause a planet to fragment like our capital did. We didn’t even have any nuclear research facilities on the homeworld!” The man’s look was haunted, as he glanced at Dustin. “I understand from your government’s missive that we were not the only ones attacked. Are they…” the words caught in his throat. Dustin grimaced. “The Yuran are reeling almost as much as you, C’etha. Though the council aren’t claiming accident in their case, but theft instead.”

C’etha looked like he’d been slapped. “THEFT? How on l’Adros could a species be killed by theft?” Wincing at the memory, Dustin explained. “The council got our report on the attack on the Gvort and Yuran before Sola was in a position to fly here. Those who are trying to minimize… No, the way they are treating the cat folk and your people goes beyond minimizing. The ones who are lying to the galaxy about this threat have made up a story that the Yuran were impatient about the time needed for their ambassadorial mission and so had stolen a weave-drive which they operated incorrectly on their planet, cracking the crust and causing the firestorm that nearly drove the Gvort to extinction.”

The two men sat in silence for a moment, the insanity of the situation putting them at a loss for words before C’etha at last spoke. “What now? You are proctors, and they won’t listen to you, my people are bleeding with our home in pieces, the Gvort are all but gone, the Yuran… And those, those things - they are still out there. Who will be next? What will be next?” Dustin leaned forward and rested a hand sympathetically on the other man’s shoulder. “What is next is that we fight, C’etha. We fight. There are criminals on the council, sure, but there are also strong allies. The Vex’ess have already sent a team of geneticists to begin the process of speeding up the repopulation of the Gvort, the Rabyth have deployed their mercantile fleet to help ferry the Yuran to asylum in human space, and the Velca are coordinating everything we know about these monsters. They’ve brought war to the galaxy - but thanks to your people that will be the worst mistake they ever made.”

C’etha blinked, looking at Dustin oddly. “Thanks to my people? I don’t follow.” Dustin gave a lopsided grin, pulling his mouth tight enough to show off one of his canines. “Your kind found us. Humanity. Thanks to you, we united as a species and our homeworld is now a place of peace - but it’s barely been a hundred years since we last had a planet-spanning war. We want to be explorers, we want to be friends to the galaxy. But if there’s one thing you should know, it’s that there is nothing quite as terrifying as a human who’s had their friends hurt, save for a human who’s seen something they think of as their pet get hurt.”

The l’Adra gave Dustin a appraising look and nodded. “You have spirit, certainly. But what can one species do against a threat that strikes from the shadows and that the council refuses to acknowledge exists?” Dustin shrugged by way of reply. “Right now? Nothing. We turned our swords to ploughshares around the time I was born, and it’ll take us a while to prepare. But when we do? Those… things, they’re going to find out what happens when you hurt not just a human’s friend or their pet, but when you hurt both.”