Fast Cars and Intergalactic Speed Dating

37: Grief

Minutes passed. After the drama of getting their ship back into space, the Bridge was eerily silent.

Pey-Daika's voice broke that silence again, Aialo-El among their soft, inquisitive words. Richard glanced in their direction, his heart knocking in his chest, and then he looked at Ol-Maran.

The First Officer replied to Pey-Daika.

A ripple of terrible awareness passed through the Karra on the Bridge.

"What happened?" Shashi asked, her voice loud, more childlike than usual. "Are we okay? Did we get away?"

The Chorodonians gathered together, murmuring. The Karra gathered, too, in groups of two or three, reaching for one another's hands. Their grief was palpable in the atmosphere, although there was no sobbing, no dramatic outpouring of sorrow. Ol-Maran watched them from where they sat, their gaze unfocused, their complexion waxy and pale.

Garth returned from the med-bay. With Kavita's help, he began to treat Ol-Maran's wounds. Richard focused on flying the ship, Nen-Alaya at his side. He stole occasional glances at Ol-Maran, but it seemed there was nothing that could be done for the Karran's arm except to bandage it, use the pain relief devices, and hope for the best.

Richard stared at the screen, stared out into the depth of space. The world was a black so dark it was vivid, dusted with crushed diamonds that wavered and blurred in his vision. As the urgency and adrenaline of the attack wore off and he began to trust that they had truly escaped, he relaxed—but relaxing meant succumbing to what his body had pushed off for the sake of survival. His hands were shaking, and he wanted very much to be anywhere but where he was. Just for a minute.

"Richard," Kavita murmured.

"What?"

She was quiet for a few seconds. Then, even more softly, she repeated his name, putting her hand on his shoulder. He looked at her, aware now that there were tears sliding down his cheeks. Kavita met his gaze.

"They were just trying to get home," Richard said, his voice catching in his throat. "They were trying to help people. Find their family."

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into her embrace. Richard choked back a sob, holding Kavita tightly. He felt her shoulders shaking. A short distance away, Ol-Maran watched, pale and feverish. Garth was sitting on the floor at their side, his back against their chair, his arms wrapped around one of his knees, staring at a bag of Cheetos.

After a long moment, Kavita pulled back from Richard. She wiped her cheeks, looking up at him through red-rimmed eyes.

"We must carry on the mission. We are so near to success, and now we travel at hyperspeed. Our journey will be brief: a matter of two days, perhaps."

Richard and Kavita turned to Ol-Maran at the sound of their raspy, faint voice. They lifted their remaining arm, indicating the screen, their journey. "If I succumb to my injuries, you must carry on the mission."

"Hold on," said Garth. "Nobody's succumbing to anything." He wiped the heel of his hand over his cheek, frowning up at Ol-Maran.

"You're going to make it, mate. You've got to. Else who's going to navigate this thing?"

"I will do my best to survive," Ol-Maran said without a hint of humor, "but should I die, you must take my translator and give it to Nen-Alaya. They are the ship's best navigator after me."

Nen-Alaya had looked up at the sound of their name, tentacles lifting inquisitively. Ol-Maran made no effort to translate what they had said; it was a message for the humans alone, an effort to shield the Karra from the potential for yet more tragedy.