Road to Rydia

Sam weakly held the reins and let the Kukchi make the decisions. The oversized gerbil had the senses to understand and map out the desert and knew its routes. With weight and purpose, it retraced its steps toward the city and the Underdark. It could lead Sam toward more Pandemians, but she had no ability to worry about that, only to hold on and push on.

The rain continued to wash upon her body, its pattering hiding her tears. She was left in the wilderness again. Once more, the world had become hostile, and she was no longer innocent as well. Where would she go now? She thought. Her presence was a death sentence. If she did not get off this planet soon, she would doom this world to her small apocalyptic plague. Or, it'd be better to find a place to get rid of herself.

The storm refused to cease, even as the sun behind the clouds drifted underneath the horizon, throwing the world into darkness. Even with no sight, the Kukchi continued without rest. Whether it was due to its good diet or its need for shelter. It traveled miles along the path until the trails led downward. 

A cave system, created through old canals and rivers, opened up to them, and it was apparent it was widely used. Though empty, torches and pelts could be found scattered down the tunnel. The tunnel was communal usage, and when a small bulb emerged from the side, the Kukchi stopped. This was a resting place, one it knew well. The beast hopped onto the long fur, spread its legs out, and fell asleep. Sam laid on the Kukchi's back for some time, unwilling to move, until she fell asleep and fell off to the side. It hurt, but she didn't tend to herself.

The night dragged on for some time. Cold, wet, and next to a farm animal, Sam blinked in and out of consciousness, unable to rest for long before she shivered back awake. She wished for a fire, but in the pitch blackness of the cave, she couldn't see a thing, and she was too afraid to reach out. She heard that if you caught hypothermia, you'd warm up before you die from the cold. As a wave of heat overtook her, Sam assumed this would be the end. She was scared before, but she quietly accepted it as penance.

"What are you?"

Sam woke up to a warm fire. She was still where she slept, but Kalin had made the tunnel his own. A rifle was trained on her.

"Answer the question," he said, still resolute. "What were you doing in that house? Who sent you?"

Sam shivered, trying to get up but couldn't. Her eyes weakly glanced up at him. "I'm hungry."

"I don't care."

A few seconds passed. No moves were made. A very tense situation.

"Snu…is he dead?"

Kalin said nothing. Instead, he readjusted his aim.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, covering her face. "It's my fault. I got them sick. My germs, they must've gotten infected."

"Germs?"

"Please, just let me die! I don't want to be here anymore!"

Kalin thought about it. He shot her dead in her mind and then wondered how that would make him feel. Not much, he supposed, so he almost pulled the trigger, but should he? His ride across the desert had been fueled by rage, and her mere presence unloaded a deluge of memories that put the old veteran on edge, but he had to think rationally and for the empire. Was this girl really human? She did seem upset over this hypothetical 'death,' but was that ironclad proof?

"You're a strange abomination," Kalin said. "But I've seen you fight. There's no way you're human."

She kept crying.

"But if you're not going to value your life, then it'll belong to me." He walked up and grabbed her, immediately getting resistance, but with the distance already closed, he gave her a zap that put her to sleep once more. In the meantime, he inspected her to check for scars and damage. She was organic enough, but no lightning burn marks.

"I see," he sighed. "I suppose I missed her a second time. Am I getting soft?" He'd have to reprimand himself later, but it was time to rest. There was traveling to do tomorrow.

The following morning aboard the Betelgeuse had the whole bridge in a scramble. The footage didn't lie. As Ritz reviewed the camera feeds from his drone bugs, he caught a rider moving across the desert at dawn. It would've been a disinterested glance, another forgotten memory in the engineer's mental bank when a streak of glowing red hair caught his attention. That attention brought pursuit, and that pursuit brought a live feed of the Captain's daughter. He was brought to the bridge.

"What's going on!?" Reynolds asked. "My daughter, is she-?"

"She's alive!" Zelda said, breaking out a tissue box. "I can't believe it."

A wave of relief fell upon the crew. The Betelgeuse had been brought low by her loss. Their Captain's gloom had spread to all facets of their lives. In fact, they all felt a pang of guilt for how they had treated her before the drop. Seeing her alive lifted a hard weight off their shoulders, and the less disciplined bridge crew couldn't help but cry.

Ritz brought up some statistics on the screen. "Vital signs are out of whack. I can't get a good read on her implants. Her translation chip seems to be working, though."

"So, you're saying that we can't track her?"

"Not her, per se, but that is a giant guinea pig. I'll try to hide somewhere on it. Try and get close."

"Thank you, Ritz." It was the best news he had heard in weeks. A wave of relief hit the Captain all at once.

Park shook his head. "This is bad, Captain. Your daughter has been captured by the local inhabitants."

"Given the emblems and clothing, that's a military officer too. She's under state custody now."

Reynolds trembled in his seat. "How long until we have the main fleet here?"

"Three weeks and four days."

"Shit." Reynolds paced around the bridge. His newfound hope was wavering. No matter how justified he was, there was no way the Kainians would allow him to intervene. The situation wasn't lost, though. If the Pandemians were aware of their presence, then interplanetary peace was possible. After all, Sam was a good girl. They wouldn't hurt an innocent child. That would make sense to most Earthlings, except... "Where does it look like they're heading?"

"It looks like they're heading toward the capital of one of the underground nations, Rydia."

"What're the chances that she's staying underground?"

"Whether they keep her away in a scouting outpost or send them right into the city's nervous system? It's a coin toss, sir."

Reynolds groaned. "If we're right in assessing this population, she'll be going through a metropolis. We'll easily lose track of her."

"I can get a couple of strike teams down there." The whole crew turned as Captain Anderson stepped out from the top of the bridge. "It's not like they haven't seen large birds before. I'd say it'd be a decisive victory."

The Captain was only partially kidding but hoped someone would agree with him. The rest of the crew seriously considered it, but not Reynolds.

"I'm only joking, Jack," he assured. "But sacrificing one Pandemian wouldn't hurt relations too badly, right?"

"That's one life too many," Reynolds answered. The two officers stared each other down. "I won't let you sully this mission, understand?"

Anderson refused to falter. "And what if this gets your daughter killed?"

"You're pushing it."

"I guess she's not a priority then."

"What are you playing at? Tired of playing soldier up here and want an excuse to get some action?"

Anderson approached him. "It's not what I want, Reynolds. It's a duty that matters. An Earthling is in trouble, but you're still thinking about the Kainians, aren't you?"

Reynolds got closer, practically butting heads. "You're the one they put to keep me under control. I know what you are."

He smirked. "That's right. Under Kainian space force regulations, we aren't able to give orders to each other. My job is to arrest you if you screw up." He grabbed Reynolds and shoved them off. "But here's the thing, I want you to."

"What?"

"I want you to make the call. Have that officer killed, save your daughter. It's the only way I'll truly respect you."

Reynolds took a few steps back and crashed down into his chair. His mind wasn't in the right place. He knew that. There was so much at stake, so much he was already damned for. He knew what he truly wanted in his mind, and from Anderson's demeanor, he knew it too. The question was if he had the fortitude. Peace was the only option for him. "I won't do it," Reynolds said. "I trust my daughter and the Pandemians. I will do no harm."

Anderson's smug demeanor fell away, and he threw the metaphorical grenade as he walked out. "You really are a coward, Reynolds."