Irkens belong to Jhonen, as does Zim! Most of the characters are mine. So are the Student and Soldier Classes. DOOM!

II
Thou Shalt Not Kill...

Another day, gone. Passed down into the oblivion of wherever time went once it's duty was done. Never to return. The moons had arisen, three crescents high in the night sky. Their silver light dripped down coolly over the still-awake planet, giving a surreal mood to the hours of darkness. Lights from the huge capitol city glared alarmingly back, almost in a struggle for supremacy. Which one would win and at what cost was, and would always be, undecided. Weaving between the overly-bright buildings, not even contesting with the moons or city lights, were transports. Voot runners carrying their owners home, cruisers on patrol, supply vehicles to places unknown and just about anything else you could imagine skimmed along.
Sen grinned down at the city, its lights glinting off of his blue-green eyes. He was currently off-duty. Taking a moment to enjoy the glory of being a Soldier and being tall enough to become an Elite Guard was usually what he did on his off-duty hours. But, what he was currently doing would have gotten him thrown off the Guard completely. No one was around to enter the Tallests' personal audience chamber, and no one would without permission from the Tallest themselves. Sen stood on the Tallest's platform, having eliminated the purple half with a few malicious pushes of a button on the wall. Now, instead of there being two of everything, there was one. It was all a brilliant red and Sen ruled over it.
In the darkness, windows allowing the warring combination of moonlight and city light to enter, the Elite Guard presided over a multitude of invisible Irkens. He was their Tallest. The single, most powerful being in the Empire. Sen grinned broader. "My loyal subjects," he began, voice ringing out over the imagined assembly. "I have a new decree which you all must follow." He paused for the invented cheering from the Irkens who weren't there. "As of this moment... all Students with genetic defects are to be killed. As are those Hatchery workers who allowed this heinous crime to be committed."
"Do you really think that is fair... 'Tallest' Sen?"
The Guard whirled around, startled by the slightly mocking voice, his hand going for his blaster. Eyes of dark red met his blue-green defects. Sen glared. "What are you doing here, Rael?" he snapped. "Aren't you supposed to be off watching some hapless soul who's only doing his job?"
Rael only shrugged. "That is what I'm doing," the other Soldier replied calmly. Rael was one of the most trusted Soldiers of the Empire. He was a member of the mysterious "special forces," a Captain to be exact. Like Sen, he wore a mask over the lower half of his face; it was part of the dress code for those in close service with the Tallest. Rumor had it that he was trained in everything any Irken could be trained in. Along with a standard Soldier uniform and mask, he wore a long, red cloak that trailed out behind him. There was another rumor that he could become invisible by wrapping himself in it. He took orders from no one except the Tallest themselves, and no one knew much about him. His height constantly seemed to change, being one thing one moment, and the next he'd be three inches taller. At his side, there was usually an odd-looking SIR at his side, but tonight it was absent. "I am checking on my fellow Soldiers, Sen. And, I am quite curious as to what exactly you're doing."
"It is not your concern," Sen snarled. "It is my business."
"It will become the Tallest's business if you fail to explain why the purple side has been removed from this room." The simplicity of this quieted Sen's protest. "As for what I am doing here," Rael continued. "I have just completed a meeting with our esteemed leaders, and am returning to my barracks for the night." An innocent, sideways tilt of the head. "This way just happened to be faster. Now. I have explained my reason for being here, therefore I feel it is time you explained yourself as well."
The Guard didn't answer. He only stalked over to the wall panel and pressed the same buttons he'd used to erase the purple. Almost instantly, the room returned to normal. "Better, O mighty Rael?" he asked, folding his arms.
Dark red eyes narrowed. "Why do you come here to do these things, Sen?" asked Rael calmly. Another thing about Rael that was odd. He rarely spoke in anything but a smooth, calm voice that either relaxed you or annoyed you to no end. Sen found it highly annoying. "Do you enjoy imagining the death of the other Class that much?"
Sen stalked down to a window, folding his arms behind his back, acting as if he had not heard. His shoulders were hunched, antennae flicked in angrily. Rael remained standing at the top of the platform. "They are weak, Rael," the Guard finally snapped, not turning around. "Weak little worms who crawl around, whining about how important they are to this Empire when all they do is make things and ridicule those who protect them!" He glared down at the still-busy city. "WE are the superior ones Rael... why should we not take the liberty of culling those who are especially weak? WE are the ones who should have the privileges they do! They should serve us! Not the other way around!"
Taking in what the other had said, Rael sadly closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Irkens serve only those taller than them," Rael said, leaning against the podium. "Sen, no Irken should think like that," he murmured. "No Irken should wish death upon so many innocent Irkens..."
"How quaint," Sen barked, with a forced laugh. "That coming from someone who assassinates for a living."
"At least I have a purpose for what I do. What you and your little band is doing Sen, is far worse than anything I have ever done..." Rael's voice was steel. "What you are doing is inexcusable."
The back of the Elite Guard stiffened. His antennae jerked upright as he spun to face the disturbing calm of Rael. "What!?" was all that would come from Sen's lips.
Serenely, Capt. Rael of the Special Forces approached Sen, each tap of his boots echoing softly in the large room. He did not say a word. Frightened for once of this strange Soldier, Sen pressed up against the window, his hand going for the blaster at his hip. As he did so, Rael's hand shot out, grabbing his wrist in a death grip. He loomed over the panicked Sen, dark red eyes narrowed threateningly. "I know," he said quietly, hissing a bit despite his control. "I know what it is you and your group is doing to the Students. I know everything about it. Who's involved. How long it's gone on. What exactly you all are plotting. Why you're doing it in the first place. I know what you hope the outcome will be. Mother of Irk, I know everything, Sen."
Blue-green eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you!" he hissed loudly, writhing in the taller, stronger Irken's grip. "You speak lies, Rael!"
"Do I?" He shoved Sen up against the glass roughly, grabbing the other's mask and ripping it down. Sen snarled. "It is because of those eyes of yours, Sen, that you are going to kill Tallest know how many innocents! It is out of hatred for those who accidentally missed YOUR defect that you bring this idiocy down on those who don't deserve it!"
"Student-lover!" Sen growled. "You defile your Class with your love for and devotion to protecting those infantile worms!" He writhed once more. "It IS their own fault this is happening! Their own laziness in the Hatcheries! Once the Tallest find out about how many defects there are in the Student Cla-"
Rael dropped him. A haunted, troubled look had taken hold in his eyes. "I cannot stop this madness in your head, Sen..." he said sadly. "But, I swear to you that if I find out you're keeping it up, going through with your twisted little plots, I will stop you. This information will find its way into Tallest Purple's hands... and I doubt he will be as powerless against you as I." In a swish of cloak, the other Soldier left before he did any physical harm to Sen.
Alone in the dark. Finally, blissfully alone. Sen leaned heavily against the window, trembling. He took several long, calming breaths. His communicator beeped. One last breath puffed out. "Sen," he hissed into the com-link. "What is it?"
"SIR!" the other end said. "We have a small problem involving the project."
"Take care of it. You know what to do."
"Yes sir!"

Boots paced along the sanitized corridor. Four hours... four hours and still none of them had been told what was wrong or if they could even see little Wikki. Their presence was known by all, the insistent tap of mechanic's boots making it clear they were not leaving until they got word. Kaml handed out cups of iaka, a drink that cleared the mind and perked the senses. It was a typical drink one had when you needed to stay awake for an extended period of time. The two adult females accepted theirs gratefully, while Regert waved him off. The boss was more than awake enough as it was. His face was pale, his single antennae slicked back against his head, his movements tense and rigid. Kaml finally slumped against the wall, worn out by his boss's fear combined with his own. The rest of the group was seated in small, hard chairs outside of the room they were keeping Wikki in. Swar was cradling little Min in her arms, letting him rest his head on her chest. The gray eyes were closed in sleep. Cerol sat beside Shil, the latter gazing intently into the former's milky eye. The student's head was sagging on his neck as he struggled to stay awake. Shil had taken one of his gloved hands in hers and was comfortingly clutching it tight in strong fingers. Beside Kaml, Lidge hugged her knees to her chest, resting her head against the bony joints.
"What's happening, Kam?" she asked softly. Her voice was muffled by the positioning of her head.
Her teacher shrugged helplessly. "They haven't told us anything, Lidgers..." Kaml sat down on the floor, hugging Lidge tightly. She shook. "It's going to be fine, little one," he assured her. "No matter what, the meds are going to make sure Wikki will be fine."
"I guess," was all he got in response for his comforts. "This is awful, Kam," Lidge murmured into her teacher's shirt. "'Dai's gone forever, Min's prob'ly traumatized or something, and now poor Wikki's sick... Why do I get the feeling this is my fault...?"
"Lidge..." Kaml gently pried her head out of its position, looking into her wide magenta eyes. She blinked nervously up at him. "Why would it be your fault? Regert said she had a cough even before he brought her over. There's no way it could be your fault. Please, Lidgers, don't blame yourself... that's the stupidest thing any one of us could do right now." She nodded, re-burying her face in his arms. "It's gonna be okay..." he whispered, rocking his student gently. Who cared if she was almost an adult? She needed him.
Watching them hurt. Holding Min hurt. It was a constant reminder of what Swar Aman had lost. A first student was... almost sacred. Even if the teacher were assigned a new one, the bond would never be as strong as it had been with the first. To lose your first student, to disease or otherwise, was heartbreaking. But, add to that, seeing him almost everywhere, everyday, and knowing you would never do as she was doing for Min again... Swar brushed her gloved fingers across her eyes almost angrily. No. Not now. She shouldn't be thinking of Kas now. She should be comforting Regert. Although, not a day went by when she didn't wonder how this had happened. Why Kas?
Min stirred in her hold, whimpering slightly. Startled from her thoughts, the scholar nearly jumped, but calmed once Min settled back down against her. "Poor little one," she murmured. Glancing at Kaml, who caught her look and nodded, Swar ran her fingers lightly over little Min's antennae. At the soft, relaxing touch, the youngster purred in his sleep. A smile came to his face. Swar sighed. A teacher-less Kaalae... He couldn't be returned to the Nursery and reassigned. Not after he had been given his teacher's name. According to what she had been told, he was to be taught by Kaml after his original student moved out. Until then... no one was sure of his fate until then. "You're lost, little Kaalae," Swar said to the sleeping child. "What will happen to you now? You're suspended between two teachers... one who's too far away for you to ever see again, and the other who can't even begin to care for you how you need it..." She sighed. "What are we going to do with you, hmm?"
His only response was to twitch his antennae faintly and curl closer to Swar.
"Are you sure you can still see me with that eye? How many fingers?"
"Yes, and two."
"Now?"
"Four."
"Now?"
"Six."
"What color are Swar's eyes?"
Mismatched eyes blinked. The lighter, left eye strained. "Gray?" Cerol ventured, his too-deep voice squeaking a bit, making it sound higher with the question. "Are they gray? Or blue gray? I... I can't tell, Teacher Haye."
Shil paled. "Cerol, what color are my eyes?" she asked, putting her hands on his shoulders to turn his head to her. "Tell me... not from memory. What color do you see?" Her voice was fluttery with a sudden fear.
"Black..." was the reply. His dark blue eye was closed as the left labored to see the color of his teacher's eyes. "No, they're not black!" Now he was frightened. "Teacher Haye! They're not black! They're green! What's happening to me?" Terrified, he grabbed Shil's hand, fingers tightening around it. Shil looked at him helplessly. He was nine years of age, and already taller than his teacher. Taller and longer in the leg, arm, torso... he was going to be tall when he grew up. But now, he was just a frightened, young mechanic who needed his teacher. Shil held out her arms for him. Almost instantly, she was grabbed in a tight hug while her student shook fearfully in her arms.
"Shhh," Shil murmured soothingly. "It's okay, babe. You're going blind in that eye, remember? It's okay... just probably one of those things that happens when someone goes blind..." She stroked his antennae. "It'll be okay. I'll help you. Always will."
He nodded weakly. "Don't ever go away, Teacher Haye... not even when I'm old. Promise?" Cerol's frightened eyes looked up at her pleadingly. "I'm gonna need help..."
"Of course you will. And I'll be the one to help you. That's what teachers are for, eh?"
"Poor Min..." Cerol mumbled into her chest. "He doesn't have a teacher to help him... He'll need one..."
Shil nodded, still soothing her student with smooth movements of her hand over his antennae. "We all do at some point. Don't you worry about Min, Cerol. Enough of us are already. You just worry about getting that eye of yours up to par with the rest of the blind Irkens out there." She wasn't about to tell him that there weren't any other blind Irkens in the Empire.
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. The endless drone of Regert's boots against the tiles was the only thing the little group to tell the passing of time. The boss's movements were tense, fearful, as he paced, waiting for any word on his baby of a student. Every so often, he'd look towards the room behind them, where Wikki was, in hopes some news would come. Two more hours went by with no word. Thoughts flew through the red-eye's troubled mind. Was she dying? What was happening to her now? Would he ever see his little Wikki work? Regert clenched his fists. Whatever happened to her, he'd made up his mind about what he wanted to do. After all, if Jendai had done it, why couldn't he? There was no penalty, as it wasn't against any Student Laws. It was just... not done.
For the hundredth time in the past hour, he leaned his elbows against the opaque window of the room. It could be clearer or more opaque depending on who was inside it, and if the med workers wanted you to see the occupant. Right now, it was nearly as white as the walls. Obviously, something was so wrong with Wikki that they didn't even risk other med workers seeing her.
That frightened him.
The Boss of West Jihi, who had stared generals of the Soldier Class in the face, laughed at them, and survived. The Boss who had stood before the Tallest, both Solider and Student, and dared to love Swar Aman. That very same Boss was scared because he couldn't see his baby student through a window. A gentle hand rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, fingers working through the obvious tenseness. "Love?" It was Swar. "You're crying..."
"I am?" Regert gingerly touched his cheeks. Indeed, tears were running down their green sides. "Oh... I am... Aren't I? Odd. I hadn't noticed..." His hands clenched on the windowsill.
"Love..." Swar murmured, tightening her hold on his shoulder. She still held Min, cradled in one arm, and was rocking him gently. Her free hand brushed the rest of the tears from his face. Regert stared at her. He knew how much it had to hurt her, to hold Min like that. How much it hurt her to hold another student, one almost like the one she had lost to the position of Tallest. "Regert... she's going to be okay... Not one more of us should lose someone. Too many of us have. We've all lost Jendai. Min especially. Shil's losing a part of her Cerol. I've lost Kas forever. You can't lose her." Her light eyes were clouded with tears, the face they were set in so very close to his tearstained one. He needed her. Regert's arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her closer with the snoring Min between them. "You... just... can't..." Swar whispered, leaning in closer to him.
"I hope to the Mother of Irk, I won't..." Regert kissed her then, full and long, as he had wanted to ever since he'd seen her hours ago in the bar. The scholar returned the affection leaning into it and purring softly and mildly. He longed to hold her, but with Min between them, it was impossible. Not to mention if the child woke, they would probably scar him in more mental ways than they knew.
"Regert Shrig?"
They broke abruptly, whirling to the small med worker who had silently appeared in the doorway to Wikki's room, holding a data-pad in his hand. Peach-toned eyes stared up at the scholar and her mechanic. "Regert Shrig?" he asked again. "Your student..."
"What's wrong with her?"
"Come with me." The med worker's eyes locked with everyone who was still able to keep theirs open. "I need to tell you all this in private."
At this, the group stood as one, teachers unconsciously gathering their students to them for whatever protection they could offer. Kaml's eyes widened in fear. His boss's green face was nearly white with his own terror, his one working antenna flattened against his head. He grasped Swar's hand in a grip that looked unbreakable. Lidge paled herself and clung to him desperately. For a brief moment, the orange eye glanced around him, looking for Min-only to remember he was safe with Swar. Indeed, when Kaml finally found Swar's gaze, Min was there, clinging to the scholar with all his tiny might. Kaml bit his lip. He shouldn't let Swar suffer like that... he should take Min himself... but... But Lidge needed him as much as Min did. And Min was taken care of for the moment... His indecision was settled when they were ushered into the privacy of the treatment room. Lidge shuddered at what she saw, burying her face in his chest and tightening her hold about his waist. He held her securely against her horror.
Wikki, the smallest of them there, looked even smaller in the white expanse of the bed she was laid in. Her overly-large, bright yellow eyes were shut in what most of them hoped was a peaceful sleep. Although, her skin was too pale, her breath too shallow to be anything short of unconsciousness. Beside the bed, on a small, clean table, was the equally small black and yellow back-pod of the child. It was hooked to a small recharger machine, which gave off no sound, unlike the machines the pod's owner was attached to. The wires from these ran from the various machines and into the holes in Wikki's back, the holes where the wires from the pod usually connected to her spine. No Irken could live without their pod for more than half an hour, yet it was necessary sometimes to remove them for medical cases that were too severe to treat with them attached. Hence the new ones that currently were entering her body. Along with those, a breathing tube was inserted into her thin throat and a small fluid drip was suspended above her, its tube snaking gracefully down into her wrist. The pulse monitors beeped loudly, their rhythms slow and nearly unsteady.
Her teacher was as white as the bed his student lay on. Shakily, he approached her; his eyes wider than anyone who knew him had ever seen them. The medical workers, two of them, didn't speak a word, nor tried to stop his slow advancement. Those remaining where they were held their students closer, alternating between murmuring mental hopes that they would never be forced to find their loved ones in such a state and that nothing horrific would befall them once more. Regert, trembling, took one of Wikki's hands in his. The male's gloved hands dwarfed the pale, green-skinned female's. As if in response to his touch, Wikki stirred slightly, coughing. He jumped. "What's wrong with her?" he demanded hoarsely. "Please... what's wrong with my student?"
The peach-eyed med worker stepped forward. "Sir, you will not be pleased with what we have to say..." At Regert's insisting nod, he continued. "Our scans have... turned up a rarity. We know what was originally wrong with her-"
"A mere cough," the other med worker answered. His eyes were a darker orange than Kaml's. Finding two Students with the same eye color exactly was rarity in itself.
"Yes, a cough," the peach-eye continued. "But, something in her immune system is acting odd." He moved to a wall console and punched a few buttons with deft fingers. A three-dimensional model of a female Irken body appeared over the console. Blinking blips flowed through it. "Rather than fighting off this cough easily, as we normally do... her immune system is altering its cells to those of the disease..."
"In short," the other orange-eye broke in. "her condition is becoming more and more critical. No matter what we do, her immune system refuses to alter back to its original state of being. Gradually, this disease will overcome her... and kill her..."
Regert swayed where he stood. The others could see his hands clenching around Wikki's. He looked close to breaking down and weeping right in front of all of them. That would be a first. "Is... isn't there anything you can do for her?" Shil asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Cerol was trembling.
"We are." More taps of the console buttons. Med workers always seemed more like Soldiers than Students. They were, for the most part, cool towards other Irkens, seeming aloof from all those except other med workers. But, unlike Soldiers, they never harmed another Irken. The only thing that set them apart from other Students was their detachment. "We are currently giving her something to fight the disease, but at the rate her immune system is, in a way, manufacturing the disease cells, the medication is overpowered."
The peach-eye spoke up now. "What we may try, with your permission, Regert Shrig, is an immune cell transfusion. It is not a simple procedure, but, it has been perfected recently. Hopefully, the defective cells can all be removed, and normal ones put in their places... providing you agree to this."
"Do anything," Regert hissed, his tone more panicky than threatening. "Please... just save her." Again, he gripped Wikki's hand. "She's... my little one... my Little Doll..." Anyone could see where her nickname came from. Wikki was so tiny in comparison to most children her age. Some felt she would barely grow to be even Shil's height. "Please."
Before the med worker could answer Regert, Kaml's antennae pricked. What had he heard...? "Excuse me," he spoke up politely. Orange and peach eyes focused on him. "What was it you said about her immune cells...?"
Apparently, the others all caught on at the same moment, as every antennae owned by the conscious mechanics and scholar pricked up in alarm. Shil shook harder than her Cerol did, her dark eyes jerking from one safe face to the next. With a soft whimper, Regert fell to his knees, stunned and staring. There was no need for the med workers to repeat their dire news. They all knew.
Another defect. Another genetic defect among them. How many more lurked beneath the surface, ready to explode with the same deadly results as Wikki's? Students, barely knowing what was wrong, but knowing their teachers were terrified, cried out, holding their teachers tightly, the younger ones stifling their frightened tears. Even the med workers acted a bit unnerved by the events. The orange-eye spoke, calming the air of fear a margin. "Do not be so alarmed. We have the technology to fix this, but because it is a genetic defect, she will have to come in every week to be given the treatment," he said. "If that is fine with you, Regert sir, we will begin the treatment."
Red eyes snapped up from the floor. They were misty from tears. "Yes. Yes, do it," he ordered, swiping his gloved hand over his eyes. "Do it. As long as she'll be okay."
The peach-eye nodded. "She will. We can promise you that."
Before anyone could respond, the synchronized tap of many booted feet in the hall outside disrupted them. Student faces paled. Only Soldiers made that sound. Only a large group... an entire squad of Soldiers. The orange-eyed med worker abruptly shut off the console, moving superstitiously closer to Wikki's bedside, his movements apprehensive. The peach-eye shot the other Students a look that ordered them to move too. Teachers protectively thrust their students behind them. Regert loomed over his unconscious student, free hand clenched into a fist. It wasn't long before their tension was rewarded.
The door opened, roughly swung by a female Soldier. She wore a blaster at her hip. Another was clasped firmly in a black-gloved hand. The rest of her squad filed in after her, taking positions around the door and their commanding officer. Most of them were male. Purple eyes flicked over the Students. The CO snorted haughtily at them. "Move aside, worms," she said sharply. "We have an assignment we must carry out. Now."
"What is your name and assignment, ma'am?" the peach-eye asked diplomatically, not caring that the Soldier he spoke to towered over him. That was another thing about med workers. They were nearly fearless. "We are not allowed to leave a critically ill patient until we are sure of your intentions towards the patient."
She narrowed perfect purple eyes. "I am Captain Rikea of the South Shakra Barracks. This is my squad, number 8236477-SSB. Our assignment is the business of no weakling Student." The information was nearly spat at them. "Just get out of our way." Blasters were raised at a hand signal, their safeties flicking off all at the same moment. All pointed at those in the room. "Or you all will be shot."
"Who gave you the authority-" the peach-eye began, completely calmly. Rikea cut him off by cracking the barrel of her blaster against his skull. There was a padded thud as the med worker hit the floor. Everyone froze as Rikea stalked forward, her stride almost Tallest-like in comparison to what theirs would have been, had they been moving. She stopped before the orange-eyed med worker, pointing her blaster at his head. "My assignment, you piece of trash, is to keep this from leaking out to the rest of your pathetic Class. Now. You will unhook the brat from those machines. Or else you will all be killed."
"THOU SHALT NOT KILL!"
The cry came from Swar Aman. While the rest of the group, frozen in fear, stood still, she had come forward, her face white with mingled horror and rage. Her antennae flicked in. She trembled with her emotions, staring the taller Rikea in the eye. The Soldier paled herself, noticing who this Student was, and how important she was to a certain superior. " 'Thou shalt not kill'!" Swar cried again, quoting an ancient text. " 'No Irken shall kill another unless the Irken killed is in direct offense of the law or the one keeping order'!" Min had been returned to Kaml's side. He shook, even with Kaml and Lidge's protection. "No matter WHO ordered you to do this, you disgusting, sorry excuse for a Rat Person, it is in VIOLATION with the oldest Irken law! You can't do this!"
Now it was Rikea's turn. "My CO is above your pathetic Student laws!" she barked, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Nothing you say, or threaten to do will change my orders or stop me from carrying them out!"
"You filthy worm!" Swar screamed. Her delicate hands clenched into fists, one of them swinging up to connect with the tender place under Rikea's chin. Swar had lost it. Light blue eyes mad with rage, she swung again, connecting again. The Soldier staggered back against the console, knocking the med worker out of the way. Rikea cursed loudly, struggling to her feet to attack Swar. With the two females nearly tearing one another apart, the med worker rolled away, coming face-to-face with another Soldier. The Soldier, thinking the orange-eye was trying to attack him, kicked out viciously, his boot slamming into the green face.
If there was one good thing to be said for Soldiers, it was that if you attacked them with your fists, they would only fight you with their fists. If you attacked with blaster in hand, they shot you down. Soldiers were at the very least taught that much honor. While some forgot, Rikea was not one of those who did. She kept that small bit of honor and drilled it into her squad. Those who disobeyed her instructions were humiliated before the rest of their Class. That was one punishment no Soldier wanted. It was this that saved the lives of the Students in Wikki's treatment room that night.
Rikea quickly overpowered Swar, sending the lightly built scholar lurching into the wall before swooping down on her to pummel her with Soldier fists. Angered beyond reason, Regert attacked Rikea, trying to protect Swar from her. This turned the CO's brutality on him. This time, the fight was more evenly matched, Regert's weight saving him from taking too much pain. The other Students were quickly involved in the brawl, the young ones doing their best to protect their teachers by ganging up on a single Soldier and attacking as best they could. Kaml already had a black eye, and what felt like more than a few bruised ribs. He wasn't used to fighting. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Shil biting some unfortunate Soldier, her teeth nearly drawing blood before she was thrown off. The orange-eyed med worker had recovered from the boot to his face and was now fully mixed up in the fight. He was apparently better at this than he looked, as already, the Soldier who had kicked him was laid low. For a brief moment, the med worker became a mechanic... his eyes altering their color from orange to blue. Kaml would have shook the vision away, but a fist connected with his chin before he could. Reeling, Kaml was forced back a few steps. He blinked the stars from his eyes and lashed out with a kick at the Soldier's midriff. It was blocked, his foot caught in capable Soldier hands. With a twist of the gloved appendages, Kaml was on his stomach, sprawled on the cold, tiled floor.
From this new, and painful, position, he witnessed Min pinning a tiny Soldier to the wall. The Soldier couldn't have been any younger than Lidge, yet he was barely Min's height. Both short Irkens were evenly matched. And Kaml was thankful for that. In fact, the Soldier even seemed to be a bit afraid of his opponent. The Soldier's face didn't show it, his antennae did. Min must have bitten the little guy, for his hand was oddly wet with rose-colored blood.
He was jerked to his feet roughly. The orange eyes of the med worker locked with his before the other Student moved on. Kaml rejoined the fray, still smarting from the fall. He tackled a Soldier to the floor, surprising him away from knocking Cerol out cold. Cerol fled. Beneath Kaml, the Soldier fought desperately to free himself. Despite his lack of fighting ability, Kaml had an iron grip. Mechanics had to. Although his grip was tight, the Soldier fought free to catch Kaml's jaw with a quick fist. The Student tasted blood. He hurriedly wiped it away before it could distract him. The back of his hand was soon coated in the sticky substance. Apparently the Soldiers were hitting harder than they'd thought. All around him, his friends were injured, injured and still fighting on to protect little Wikki. Swar's head had fallen onto her chest, her eyes half-shut. She had not moved from where Rikea had left her. Regert was struggling now, his uniform torn in places to reveal cuts from Rikea's bare claws. Where the Soldier's gloves were, Kaml didn't know. To his right, Shil was favoring her left arm, keeping the injured limb close to her chest. A manic grin was plastered to her face, her teeth stained rose. The group of students was out of his range of vision. He hoped they were faring better than their teachers.
A cry of triumph made all action in the room cease. The cry of horror that followed made the Students pale.
Slowly, Student heads turned towards the bed. Rikea was poised beside it, Regert grasping her arm as tight as he could. Her free hand was situated above the flashing red button they all knew would remove the wires from Wikki... and kill her. Malice gleamed in perfect purple eyes. She looked all the Students, making sure they saw her. Literally in slow motion, as if she wanted to prolong their suffering, one clawed finger pressed against the plastic, pushing it down. A ping followed the motion.
For a moment, all they could do was stare. Regert went white. He let out an anguished cry, attempting to fight past Rikea to get to the button, to push it again and have the wires reconnect. The Soldier pulled her blaster on him. "Anyone who attempts to move," she hissed, panting slightly. "will be shot!"
"Murderer!" Swar croaked from her corner. The med worker was by her side. "Murderer! Kasden Aman will hear of this!" Tears were coming from her eyes.
Purple eyes rolled boredly. "All contact between you, filthy Student, and the Tallest was severed. You know it! Your pathetic threats are empty," snapped the Soldier. "I'm carrying out my orders as they were given to me."
"By who?" Kaml cried. He took a step closer to Rikea, only to be restrained by a Soldier behind him. He fought, glancing around for Lidge, Min and Cerol. The hold increased. "Who on Irk would tell you to kill an innocent child!?"
This earned Kaml a laugh. "It is not my duty to tell you, stupid Student! They are who they are and they have their reasons. All of which will be made clear to you when they order it so."
Wikki coughed. Monitors beeped warningly as yellow eyes fluttered open. They quickly widened in fright and pain, searching for any friendly face. Anyplace that was safe for her. Regert choked. "Teacher!" the little one coughed, looking like she wanted to hold out her arms to receive a hug. The fact that there were strangers holding weapons in the room didn't seem to register with her. She just needed comfort. The sight made Kaml choke as well.
Through all this, Rikea kept her blaster unwaveringly on Regert. "But, because I am female, I do have too much compassion for you freaks of nature." Roughly, she shoved him to his student, keeping the blaster out. "Hold her. Keep her safe as long as she's here."
"Compassion?" Shil scoffed. "You call that compassion? After coming in here and condemning a child to death you say you have compassion?"
The blaster shook. "Shut your noise tube!" Rikea ordered. The room was silent. Such a show of... emotion from a Soldier was unheard of. They felt as though they were witnessing a miracle. Though, the only miracle they wanted now was for Wikki to live.
Shil didn't shut up. "You evil piece of waste!" she hissed. Her temper had frayed. "You're killing a CHILD! Mother of Irk, you're KILLING AN IRKEN! How dare you assume you have 'compassion' for us when you're murdering-"
The blaster cracked. Shil cried out, crumpling. Kaml tried to run to her, but was restrained. Fortunately, Cerol wasn't. He appeared out of nowhere at her side, pressing his gloved hand to the wound. It was in her shoulder. Looked to have gone cleanly through the tissue and missed the bone. Rikea calmly blew away the small puff of smoke from the barrel. "That should teach you, Student, how to talk to your tallers!" she snarled. "Let that be a message to you all!"
During all this, Regert had quietly taken his student in his arms, feeling her coughs shake her tiny frame. She was frightened. And nothing he could do could comfort her. No one dared move to her pod, as much as they wanted to. She cried; confused about what was happening to her, why she felt so very weak and sick. Her teacher could only hold her, rock her and tell her he was there. Somewhere in the room, someone burst into quickly stifled tears. Light began to fade from yellow eyes. Regert allowed himself tears as well. He held her tightly. "I love you, Little Doll," he whispered, refusing to loosen his hold on her. Wikki coughed in response. Without her backpod, her body was draining of energy. No more energy for her little pulse to beat. No one knew why... least of all Wikki. "I wanna sleep, Teacher," she murmured.
"Not yet..." he choked. "You... can't sleep until... I give you something."
Her eyes brightened briefly. "What?" Wikki's voice was so faint...
Tears streamed down Regert's face. It was so hard to accept... but he had to. There was no other way. "My... my name. You're getting my name, Little Doll."
Now the yellow eyes fairly glowed with a short-lived, joyous light. "I am?" she asked. "Really?"
"There's no time for the ceremony, Wikki... but, from now on... You're Wikki Shrig... okay?"
No. This wasn't happening. Kaml covered his face. This wasn't happening. It was so unreal... not another loss. No... Mother of Irk no... This couldn't be inevitable. There had to be something he could do. Something... anything...
There wasn't a thing. Even as he sought for a solution, even as Regert choked out one last word of love, the last of Wikki's energy faded. Her bright yellows eyes slid shut, dimming. The Soldiers that had been so oddly silent left the room, their mission accomplished. Although the smallest of them, the one Min had bitten, hung back from the squad, staring at the scene with wide, nervous red eyes. Those red eyes took in everything. A teacher hunched over a student's prone form on a white bed, sobbing bitterly. One almost as tall as he, supported by a child with mismatched eyes, a blaster wound in her shoulder that dripped blood on the floor. Two children holding a single orange-eye with all their might, collective sobs coming from them. Forgotten on the floor, a peach-eyed Irken, staring blankly at the sterile ceiling. And a scholar, trembling with hate, being attended by a tall med worker, huddled in the corner.
So much woe in a single room stirred something in him, and he fled down the hall to rejoin his fellow unfeeling drones who violated the most ancient of Irken laws for their own purposes.