‘Yes.’ Speaker laughed. ‘Though, I’m going to need to go back to my shuttle. I don’t think I have everything I need there, either, but—’

‘Oh, we’ll improvise,’ Ouloo said. ‘We’ll muddle through, and if it’s a mess, it’s a mess.’

And so Speaker found herself back on the path outside, heading to the shuttlepad to fetch whatever ingredients she had. What a strange day it was, she thought. She’d had a fancy meal with a Quelin, told an Aeluon to fuck off, and was now on her way to teach a Laru how to make her mother’s custard recipe. There were other, better, more pressing reasons for why she wanted to talk to Tracker, but once the important things were sorted, Speaker couldn’t wait to tell her about all of this. She thought maybe she’d write her a letter later, so as not to forget the details. She wouldn’t send it, of course – it wasn’t an emergency, and she wasn’t about to be one of the people making the comms jam worse over something frivolous. She began to draft a message in her head as she stepped into the airlock and waited for the air to cycle through. Sister, you won’t believe the day I’ve had, she thought. I know you hate coming planetside, but I wish you’d been here for this—

The hatch opened, and with it, the letter vanished, along with the recipe, the fight, the breakfast, any memory of anything that wasn’t in front of her right then.

On the floor, limbs sprawled, neck twisted in on itself, nostrils shut against air they could not breathe, was Tupo. Unmoving. Unbreathing. Unresponsive.

Scattered before xyr, resting where they’d fallen, lay two pieces of cake.

Dys 238–239, GC Standard 307

IN THE EVENT OF AN EMERGENCY

EVERYONE

An alert light flashed; someone was in the airlock and wanted to come through the hatch. Whoever it was, Pei was not in the mood. She stood in her shuttle’s kitchen, leaning against the pantry and drinking a large cup of water. She was in that stage of intoxication where she was beginning to entertain the possibility that maybe – just maybe – she’d overdone it.

The light continued to flash. She would get it, of course. It was probably Ouloo, making a fuss. No, that wasn’t a kind way to think of it – Ouloo was checking in, most likely. Pei knew it wasn’t nice to keep her host waiting, but she also really didn’t feel like talking anymore. She wanted to sit in proper quiet and be with her feelings and—

Her implant buzzed, and a loud, rhythmic thudding accompanied it.

Someone wasn’t just at the hatch. Someone was kicking the hatch.

Frowning purple, Pei walked over to a monitor panel and gestured, pulling up the view from the hatch’s security cam. Her inner eyelids flicked hard. It wasn’t Ouloo. It was Speaker.

As soon as Pei processed what Speaker was carrying, she dropped her cup and ran.

The fucking hatch finally melted open. Captain Tem stared at Tupo, lying limply in the mech suit’s arms. ‘What the hell—’

Speaker cut her off. ‘You said you have medical equipment,’ she said.

Captain Tem snapped into action just as Speaker had. ‘This way,’ the Aeluon said, hurrying down the surreal hallways of her soft-shelled ship. Speaker followed with equal speed. She ignored the empty weapon racks and hanging sets of armoured clothing, saving her disgust for another time. She tried to keep Tupo’s long limbs from falling out of the suit’s grasp, but stars, it wasn’t easy.

She arrived at what amounted to a small med bay – a decent-sized room with a bed, a bot scanner, and various supplies for patching people up. Captain Tem activated panels and monitors with one hand, and opened a hole in the wall with the other. ‘Where did you find xyr?’ she asked.

Speaker moved the suit in and lay Tupo on the bed as gently as she could. The bed moulded itself around the child, hugging xyr limbs supportively. ‘On my ship,’ Speaker said.

‘And what ha—’ What happened, Captain Tem presumably began to say, but as she caught sight of Speaker’s suit, she fell silent. ‘How long has xe been without oxygen?’

‘I don’t know,’ Speaker said. ‘I just found xyr a minute ago.’

Captain Tem retrieved a small item from the hidden cupboard she’d opened: a packet of SoberUps. She tore the wrapping open, popped the tabs in her mouth, and crunched furiously. Her cheeks swirled a discordant mix of colours as she swallowed, as though her body was sorting itself out. ‘Did you flag the emergency channel?’

‘Not yet, I wanted to get xyr out of my ship first.’

‘Makes sense. Does xe have a pulse?’

‘I have no idea. Do you know how to check for a Laru’s pulse? Do they even have one?’

‘Fuck. I don’t know.’ Captain Tem ran a hand over her smooth head. ‘Okay. Okay, you – you know how to use a bot scanner?’

‘Yes.’

‘You know the advanced options?’

‘Basically. I know the first aid functions.’

‘Okay, good, you – wait, shit, no, I’ll have to do it. You won’t be able to read my scanner. Here—’ She opened another previously unseen cupboard and retrieved what appeared to be a breathing mask connected to a handheld canister of super compressed air. ‘See if you can get this on xyr, I’ll do bots.’