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Chapter Six - Home
"All I ever wanted was a place where I didn't feel like a stranger, an outcast. A place to call home." ~Jeryn Davis, dark side Force-sensitive, before his death in 892 BBY as recorded by Nikto Jedi Master, Herin Grell
Ruzaan drove the wagon, since he had experience hauling lumber for his woodworking. Ripp sat next to the Duros so he could learn how to drive. The rest of them sat in the back of the wagon.
"The Loches meant for the house to be a generational home, I think," Ruzaan said. "There's plenty of space for additions, and they were planning a good-sized kitchen garden when I finished up. There's even a natural hot spring that pipes hot water into the house."
"What happened to them?" Binah asked.
"Our first year here saw a lot of sickness. The Loches lost a daughter and took ill themselves. They never really recovered. Ferg and Wril ran the farm and took care of their parents. I have no idea how they managed to date and get married, but they did. Wril moved back into town first, but Ferg and his wife stayed here until his parents passed away. Then they moved back to town too."
"Sounds like this might not be the best place to live," Ripp said.
"The building is sound," Ruzaan said, pride in his voice. "Nothing short of an act of nature, or bombardment from space, will bring it down."
Asharé felt another hit of intuition shiver up her spine. Why suddenly now, on this planet? And twice in two days. She'd devote her meditation that evening to see if she could peer past that dark mist that still hung over the Force when she tried to see into the future.
"Ah, there she is," Ruzaan said as the narrow lane they had been traveling up opened into a wide clearing.
A rambling house sat off to the left side of the clearing. Steam rose gently from an enclosure behind the house; the hot spring Asharé assumed. Reaching toward the house through the Force, she could feel the tiny sparks of life; insects and rodents. With a gentle nudge she sent them scurrying out and into the forest. Ruzaan pulled the wagon to a stop next to the house and climbed down from the seat. The younglings slid out of the wagon bed and began running around.
"Binah—" Asharé started.
"Watch the younglings. I know," the Alderaanian girl said.
Asharé frowned at the flash of bitter anger she felt from the former Padawan.
"Do you know where the controls are for the electric fence?" Kiri asked Ruzaan.
"On the back of the house," the Duros said.
Asharé decided to brave the inside of the house. They would need to know what damage had been done, and if it would be worth repairing. The front door was tightly set in its frame, which was promising. The air inside was musty, as expected from a building that had been closed for months. The layout was similar to the house they were in now; great room and kitchen, closed doors that probably led to bedrooms and a 'fresher. And stairs set against one wall that led up.
Asharé explored a bit. There were only two bedrooms on the ground floor, but they were quite large. The musky smell of animal was strong as she opened one of the bedrooms but thankfully didn't seem to fill the rest of the house.
"You can see where they planned to add on," Ruzaan said coming in behind her. He gestured to what appeared to be a door frame in one wall, but no door. "They wanted more of a second story too. Right now, there's just a bedroom up there that the parents used, and some storage space."
Ripp, Hart, and Dune wandered in behind the Duros.
"Are the walls sound?" Asharé asked. "The roof?"
Ruzaan gave her a smile. "I'm still checking. No sign of damage from wood eating bugs yet, though. I'll go check upstairs."
Asharé turned to the clones. "What do you think so far?"
"With all the trees, there are no good sight lines," Dune said. "An army could sneak up on us from the forest."
"Good thing we aren't planning to be invaded any time soon," Asharé said, with a pointed look.
"Big yard," Hart offered. "Room for the younglings to run around or do . . . other training."
Asharé worried her bottom lip with her teeth. She still wasn't sure how much Jedi training to give the younglings.
"There's some water damage to the roof," Ruzaan said, coming back down the stairs. "Water puddled on the floor, but that's easy enough to sand down and refinish."
"There's no power," Kiri said from outside the front door. "A few of the field generators around the yard look like they need to be repaired or replaced too. The fence won't go up until that's done.
"We can get you a solar panel array, which is what I think the Loche's used," Ruzaan said. "Or a wind turbine. The town runs off the river mostly, but this place is a little far for that. A few weeks, maybe a little longer if we need to have Orn get any supplies for us, and we should be able to put this place to rights."
"If you'll help me make a list of what's needed, Ruzaan, then I can check at the store, and place and order with Orn if needed," Asharé said.
The community quickly enfolded Asharé's group, and within a couple of weeks, it was as if they'd been there for years. Hart teamed with Doctor Per Eashir and his wife, Visarah, learning to treat animals as well as the colonists. Kiri, Dune, Hart, and Ripp were invited to be part of the hunting party that was planned to leave as soon as the fields were planted.
Kiri helped a Corellian woman named Rainah, and a Twi'lek male named Elav, both mechanics, to repair and maintain the electrical fences around the town and livestock pens that kept the predators from killing the colonists' food and pack animals. In return, Rainah and Elav donated parts and labor to help Kiri get the fence up around their new home.
In the evening, the group and Ruzaan went to the Loche place to make repairs. Ruzaan and the clones worked on the roof, replacing water damaged beams and reshingling the whole thing. Asharé, Binah, and the younglings worked on clearing the debris from the rooms and disinfecting everything. Then they spent time hunting up the holes the critters had made to get into the house and patching those up.
They continued to sleep in the great room of their borrowed house. On nights when Asharé woke from nightmares about the war, she always found someone close by—usually Kiri, sometimes Hart, and a couple of times Ripp—who would talk her down and murmur soothingly until she fell asleep again.
She was glad to return the favor during a thunderstorm one night. She woke feeling hot and suffocated and realized that Ripp, Hart, and Dune were all huddled close. She found out why a moment later when a flash of lightning brightened the room. All three clones flinched, and the Force swirled with their fear. Thunder followed; a low, distant grumbling. She wondered what nightmares the lightning and thunder held for them, though she could guess.
Asharé reached out and touched their hands, feeling them grip back in return. She began to hum softly, infusing her voice with a thread of the Force; a gentle suggestion of safety and peace. When the lightning flashed again, there were only minor twitches from the clones, and by the time the room illuminated again, they were asleep.
Asharé took a couple of bottles of preserved paloley off the shelf and placed it in her basket. Repairs on the house were nearly complete and the big push to plant the fields would happen next week. She wanted to make something special for dinner that night, and Kina had been teaching her how to bake. Armed with a recipe for paloley pie, she'd headed to the general store.
The bell over the front door rang as someone entered. Unconsciously, Asharé let her awareness brush the newcomer. There was no sense of threat, but Asharé's back straightened anyway. The woman was there to see her, and her focus was intense.
Asharé weighed her options. She could ditch her basket and make an escape. But judging from the woman's single-mindedness, she would just corner Asharé somewhere else. Possibly somewhere more public. Right now, it was just the two of them, and the clerk, in the store. Asharé drifted toward the back of the of the store . . . and waited.
"There you are," the woman said a moment later.
Asharé turned from the bags of flour she'd been studying. The woman had curly red hair that fell to her shoulders and snapping green eyes.
"I've been trying to get you alone for a couple of days now," the woman continued. "My name's Rainah Cinn."
She held out a hand. Asharé took it, surprised by the strength of the other woman's grip. Not because Rainah was a woman, but because Asharé wasn't used to having a woman try to intimidate her by crushing her hand. Asharé increased her own hold to compensate.
"Asharé Phrin," Asharé said.
Rainah let go first. "My, that's a fine grip you have. I bet you could arm wrestle those men of yours right into submission."
Asharé didn't like where the conversation was going.
"They are your men, aren't they?" Rainah said, slyly. "Such fine, strapping, handsome husbands."
Asharé blinked in shock, and for a moment her mind went blank. Husbands? The clones? She tried to gather her wits. "It's not like that. We're just friends."
Rainah put on a surprised face. "But you all live together. And you've got that passel of younglings. Surely you've got your eye on at least one of them."
Asharé felt a surge of irritation tinged with anger that this woman was intruding so unashamedly into her life, and the lives of those she cared about. With only a second's hesitation, she reached for Rainah's mind with the Force.
"You don't need to know about my relationship with the Kholis brothers," she said.
Rainah smiled. "I don't need to know about your relationship with the brothers, but I sure do want to."
Oh, kark it all Asharé thought, using a phrase she'd heard Ripp say.
"They're too young for you," Asharé blurted, unthinking.
Rainah's lips compressed into a flat line, all humor gone. "What am I, some old woman with a clowder of tookas back home?"
"No." Asharé lifted her hands in a gesture of surrender. "No. I'm sorry. I just . . ."
"You think I sit around knitting socks because I've got nothing better to do with my time?"
Oh, Force, Asharé groaned inwardly. She'd really botched this one. She could feel Rainah's mild interest in the clones coalesce into something solid and irrepressible.
Bick't!
"Rainah—"
"Don't talk to me, girl," the other woman snapped. "I came here hoping we could be friendly, but I see that you're just an immature child with no courtesy."
"Excuse me?" Asharé was incredulous.
"No. I won't excuse you. It's a wonder anyone wants to be with you, if you go around insulting people like this."
Rainah spun around the stalked out of the store.
Asharé could only stare after her, a dull throbbing ache filling her chest. Her eyes burned, and she was on the verge of crying as she finished her shopping and took her basket to the counter.
"Don't mind her," the clerk, Dola, said. "She lost her husband recently. They'd only been married a year, but she was besotted. She has her good days, and her bad. This is apparently a bad one."
With a jolt, Ashare's view of the encounter with Rainah seemed flip one hundred and eighty degrees. She realized that the emotions that had been swamping her were actually Rainah's. One of the first things she'd been taught as a Jedi youngling was to shield her mind from the thoughts and feelings of those around her, since the Force could be an overwhelming source of information on others. Apparently, she'd been letting her mental shields slip for Rainah to affect her so badly.
"I could have handled that better," Asharé said. "But thank you for the information. I'll be more cautions if I run into her again."
Dola patted her hand. "Don't go out of your way, dear. Rainah's irritated just about everyone in town in one way or another."
Hart walked into the comm building and knocked on the doorjamb to Midge's office. She looked at him and frowned, but waved him into the office and indicated one of the empty chairs in front of the desk. Hart took a seat and waited while she finished the holocall she was on.
"I need those droids, Orn," Midge said. "I paid you up front, and you still haven't delivered."
"Don't worry, darlin'," Orn said. "I've got your droids. They're just being reconditioned. I'll drop them off on my next run."
Hart flinched involuntarily. Reconditioning was probably fine for droids, but back on Kamino, the cadets had all heard horror stories about brothers who'd been sent for reconditioning. They'd either come back different, or never returned at all.
"Well, don't delay too long," Midge sighed. "Doc Per says we're gearing up for a bad flu season. If we have people down sick, we'll need the droids to pick up the slack. Fields won't wait for a being to recover from illness."
"Alright, Midge. I hear you. I've got a haul for Uncle Tybir, then I'm headed your way with suppliers. Shouldn't be more than a week and a half."
"Good."
"Say 'hi' to the boys for me."
Midge cut the connection and focused on Hart. "Orn says 'hi'."
Hart smiled. "Thanks."
"So, what can I do for you?" she asked.
"Dune, Ripp, and I were hoping to get some slug pistols. In case we run across a kroya when we go running. Don't have to patch a brother up if I've already shot what was going to slice him open." He gave her a smile, but her expression didn't change. "Also, we've been invited on the hunt. Anyway, we were told to talk to Uros Inash, but he said that you had to okay the request first."
Midge nodded. "I told Uros to send you to me if you asked for guns. The answer is no."
Hart was speechless for a moment. Of all the reactions he'd been prepared to deal with, a straight up 'no' wasn't one of them.
"We can handle them properly, ma'am," he said.
"I'm not worried about you 'handling them properly', clone, because you won't have them in the first place."
A muscle jumped in Hart's cheek as his jaw clenched. So, it was going to be that way. He'd hoped he'd left prejudice behind when he arrived on Zilmaris. Apparently, he'd been wrong. He stood.
"Can I assume that we won't be allowed knives either?"
Midge sat back in her chair and folded her arms. "You can have knives. One each. And don't ask Asharé or Kiri to procure guns for you. They're not allowed either. Just as a precaution."
Hart's hands clenched into fists and he nodded before turning on his heel and leaving the office.
The day after the last field was planted, the hunting group gathered and prepared to leave. Winset, who would be leading the hunt, helped Dune, Ripp, Hart, and Kiri round up the gear they'd need; sleeping bags, tent, warm clothing. They only thing they didn't have was guns. But when Hart had mentioned that to Winset, he'd said they'd figure something out.
Dune tied his gear behind the saddle of the icona he'd been given to ride. Bril and Nima had been giving him riding lessons, along with a few of the other hunters, but he still wasn't entirely comfortable on the back of the creature. He looked around for his squad mates and found them clustered with Kiri, Asharé, Binah, and the younglings. Before he could make his way over to them, he was accosted by Vash. The little boy wrapped himself around Dune's leg and looked up at him with big, blue, tear filled eyes. Heart melting, Dune knelt and pulled the little boy into a hug.
"I'll only be gone for a couple of weeks," Dune said.
Vash threw his skinny arms around Dune's neck and wailed, "Miss you."
Dune pressed their foreheads together. "I'll miss you too, Vash'ika. Mind Asharé and Binah while I'm gone, okay?"
Vash nodded, then gave Dune a gooey kiss on his cheek.
"You're so sweet with him," a voice said.
Dune turned to find a red-haired, green-eyed woman standing a few steps away. She'd helped Kiri with the fence around the house, but he couldn't recall her name.
"He's a sweet kid," Dune replied, settling Vash on his hip.
The woman stepped closed. "I bet you'll be a great father one day."
Dune shrugged noncommittally. Something about the way the woman watched him made him feel like prey in a hunter's sights.
"Rainah!" Asharé called out as she jogged to Dune's side.
He breathed a sigh of relief.
"You're going on the hunting trip?" Asharé asked the other woman.
Rainah tossed her mane of red curls. "So what if I am? I'm as good a shot as anyone here."
"I believe it," the Jedi said, tucking her arm through Dune's. "I just need to borrow Dune. The rest of the younglings wanted to say goodbye."
Asharé tugged Dune away before Rainah could say anything more.
"You don't like her," Dune said as they walked to where the rest of the younglings stood with Binah.
"It's not that I don't like her," Asharé hedged.
Dune looked down at her. She hadn't released his arm. "You just don't like her."
Asharé sighed and said only, "Be careful out there. All three of you."
Three days after the hunting party left, the illness struck.
Hirani, one of the mothers who helped run the crèche, caught Asharé as she was getting ready to leave with the others to take lunch to those working in the fields. Even though the planting was done, there was weeding and watering to be done.
"Vash and Poli aren't feeling well," the red-skinned Twi'lek said. "We can't keep them with the other children in case they're contagious."
Guilt shot with fear burned through Asharé. She'd been meaning to get the younglings in to see the doctor since they'd landed, and there had always been something else that needed to be done.
Asharé nodded and said with more calm than she felt, "Let me just tell Kina that I'll be staying here, and I'll take the kids home."
Ten minutes later, Asharé was settling Vash and Poli into bed in one of the bedrooms. Binah and the other children would stay in the great room, and hopefully no one else would get sick. A knock sounded at the door, and she went to answer it.
Doctor Per Eashir was waiting for her.
"Hirani said you had a couple of sick younglings," the doctor said.
Asharé nodded and invited him in. "It's Vash and Poli. They both have a fever and say they're achy and their stomachs hurt."
Per followed her to the bedroom. "Sounds like a touch of the flu. We've seen it each spring. It's usually about a week of feeling poorly, then they recover without any lingering effects."
"But not always," Asharé said. She recalled several people talking about death from illness during the first year on Zilmaris.
"You're right. Not always. But it's that way with any disease. I can give them something to help, don't worry. Our non-human neighbors don't usually get hit with the spring flu, so the twins and Tana-Di should be okay, but I can give them an inoculation too, if you'd like."
"Yes. I don't want them getting sick. I should have brought all the younglings to you right away."
Per put a hand on her arm. "There's no use blaming yourself, my dear. Just deal with the situation in front of you. I'm sure Vash and Poli will be fine in a few days. Just keep them hydrated and comfortable."
Asharé nodded, but wasn't comforted by his reassurances.
The comm Winset carried warbled, frightening off the ziorm buck he and Dune had been tracking. With a muttered curse, Winset shouldered his slug rifle and keyed the comm on.
"This'd better be good, Midge," Winset growled. "You just messed up my shot."
"Sorry, Win. Just wanted to let you know that the flu has hit. You might want to keep the hunting party out a few extra days. It's just some of the crèche kids right now, but Hirani and Ayy are quarantining for a couple of days, just to be safe."
"Who's sick?" Dune asked grabbing the comm from Winset.
On the other end of the comm, Midge hesitated. Then sighed. "Little Vash and Poli came down with fevers yesterday. This morning, Ilar's boys had fevers and have been throwing up."
A ball of ice formed in Dune's stomach.
Winset took the comm back. "The spring flu doesn't affect Twi'leks. You sure Ilar's boys have it?"
"Not yet," Midge said. "But Per looked worried when he left their house. He's running tests."
"I'll let the others know when we meet back up tonight," Winset said. "Keep us updated."
"Will do."
Winset keyed the comm off.
"We've got to go back now," Dune said.
"Not a good idea," Winset said. "We need the meat and hides the hunt will bring. And if the virus has mutated, which it sounds like it has if the Twi'leks are getting sick, then we're better out here, than going back and getting sick ourselves."
Dune clenched his jaw. But Vash'ika needs me.
Winset put a hand on his shoulder. "Let's see if we can find that ziorm. Can't go back to camp empty handed, yeah?"
With an effort Dune focused on the present moment. The hunting party was at least two days away from the town. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen without them.
He nodded to Winset. "Let's hunt."
When Winset turned away, Dune tapped his left wrist twice and whispered, "Kot, for Vash'ika."
\.\.\
That night when everyone had returned to camp, Winset told them the news.
"Call Midge back," Karawn, an orange-skinned Twi'lek, said. Hirani was his wife, and the news had shaken him badly.
"I'm sure Midge would have called if there were any news," Winset replied.
"Please," Nima said. "Ayy is my friend."
Dune was grateful someone else had made the request, but if Winset didn't comm the town in about three seconds, Dune was going to take the comm and do it himself.
Winset pulled the comm from his pocket and it went off.
"Hunting party here," Winset said.
"You're all there?" Midge's voice said on the other end.
"We're all here," Winset confirmed.
There was a huff of breath. "Hirani and Ayy are both sick. So is Ilar."
Nima stifled a cry and turned her face into her husband's shoulder.
"The Tithatans, the Iglasts, and Kina are also showing signs of illness. Everyone's been quarantined to their houses. Per and Visarah are doing everything they can. Asharé is helping them. Apparently, she had some medical training."
Dune felt the worry in his gut uncoil a bit. If anyone could help Vash and the others it was the Jedi.
"It's spreading fast," Winset said.
Midge humm'd assent. "On the upside, Doc Per thinks our flu season will be over in a couple of weeks, instead of dragging out for a month or more," Midge said.
"Tell Per, that's not as reassuring as he probably meant it to be," Winset said.
There was weak laughter from the hunters.
"All of you, get some sleep," Midge said. "There's nothing you can do for us right now. I'll comm you again in the morning."
\.\.\
Aside from a few memorable battles, it was the longest night of Dune's life. He couldn't sleep. Worry for Asharé, Binah, and the younglings kept going around his mind. How badly were they suffering? Would any more of them get sick? Would they be alive when he got back?
An hour before dawn, he finally rose and rolled up his sleeping bag. He filled a canteen with water and took a few rations, then slipped out of camp. He judged he'd made it about a quarter of a mile before Hart jogged up beside him and grabbed his arm.
"Dune, stop. Come back to camp," the medic said.
Dune shrugged him off. Kept walking.
"You can't help them," Hart said.
"I don't care. I need to be there."
"And . . . what? Get in the way? Maybe get sick yourself?"
Dune rounded on his squad mate, ready to punch him. But Hart's face looked as haggard as Dune imagined his own did. People were sick, and the medic was stuck out here in the wilderness, unable to help when he might have actually been of assistance if he were in town. Unlike Dune.
"I can't—" Dune's voice broke and tears slid down his cheeks. "I can't add Vash'ika's name to my list of Remembrances."
Hart stepped close and gripped the back of Dune's neck, pressing their foreheads together for comfort. They stood that way as Dune wrestled for self-control.
"I've got you, vod," Hart murmured. "Asharé and Binah are with Vash. They're both healers. They'll keep him safe. We have to trust them, and do our job here."
Dune lifted his hands to Hart's shoulders and held on. "I know you're right . . . but . . . "
"Come back to camp," Hart said, releasing Dune. "If we're quick, we can catch Midge's update. Then we can go hunting, and tonight we can tell the others that story about Lightfoot's and Wraith's stealth competition."
Dune grinned at the memory. Scrubbed his face with his hands. "That was a good one."
\.\.\
Midge's call didn't come in that morning. The hunters waited and hour, then broke into groups and went in search of prey. At dinner, Winset tried raising Midge on the comm, but no one answered.
It wasn't until the following evening that they finally got in touch with the town again.
"There are more people sick." Midge didn't sound like she'd slept. "Doc put Kina on a respirator. He thinks if she can get through the next forty-eight hours, she'll make it."
There were mumbles of shock from the gathered hunters.
"Hart," Midge called.
The medic moved to where the holoprojector's field would pick him up. "I'm here."
"Doc says if you find any gelfrii flowers to bring them back. The whole plant, with as much of the roots as you can. He says he had some success last flu season using the plant in a compress to help ease patients' breathing. Nima and Bril know what to look for."
The Twi'lek couple nodded when Hart shot them a look.
"Let him know we'll bring back as much as we can," Hart said.
Midge made a sound, then the call ended.
After her last round of visits to the ill, Asharé collapsed in a chair next to Vash's bed. He'd been moved to the med center earlier, when his breathing had become severely labored. A little mask over his mouth and nose provided him the oxygen he needed, thank the Force. Asharé thought she might have fallen apart if they'd had to put him on a respirator.
She was grateful that not everyone was as bad as Kina and Vash. Ilar was able to care for himself and his sons, despite his own illness. Ayy was taking care of Hirani at Hirani's house in an attempt to keep Ayy's husband from getting sick. Binah was watching over Zaig, Liri, and Tana-Di, and so far, none of them had gotten sick. Poli had been moved to the med center with Vash, though she was doing much better. Hopefully with the quarantine in place, no one else would get sick.
There was a noise in the hall, a scuff of feet, and Visarah appeared in the doorway. Asharé knew right away that something was wrong. The woman's skin was flushed, and her breath rasped in her lungs. Asharé jumped to her feet and hurried to the woman, slipping an arm around her waist.
Visarah tried to wave her away. "I'm sick."
"I know," Asharé said, as she helped the doctor's wife to a bed.
"At this rate," Visarah had to stop as she hacked up sputum into a handkerchief. She wiped her lips. "At this rate, we'll all be dead by the end of the week."
Asharé shook her head. "Your husband and I won't let that happen."
"You don't understand. This is so much worse than any flu we've had before. I've never seen it move so fast."
The woman broke down coughing again.
Asharé made her as comfortable as she could, washed up, then went back to Vash's side.
\.\.\
A wailing alarm woke her.
In the bed, Vash was convulsing.
"No!" she cried. "No, no, no, no!"
She touched his face. He was burning up.
In the next bed, Kina began to convulse as the alarm next to her bed went off too. Asharé couldn't feel Per nearby through the Force.
Time slowed in that weird way it can when everything falls apart all at once.
Her mind flashed back to the beach on Tibrin again. Zyr lay in the white sand, his armor cracked and smoking where the blaster bolt had caught him in the chest. His helmet had been knocked off in the fall, and she could see his amber eyes going dull.
In that moment, two years ago, she hadn't hesitated to reach out and heal. Now, she knew what it might cost her to try and heal again.
But what would it cost her, and the town, if she did nothing?
She felt ethereal hands on her shoulders and heard Master Jenro's deep voice in her mind.
Feel the Force as it flows through all life; through you, the plants and animals around you, the midichlorians in your blood. Feel the interconnectedness of everything.
Asharé took a breath and stretched out; felt the connection. It was very like that first day on Zilmaris. The planet itself almost seemed to reach back to her.
She could feel the virus, sense who was most severely affected.
"The Force is my ally," she murmured something she'd heard Master Yoda's say a couple of times. "And a powerful ally it is."
Let my gift burn me out, if it must, she thought sinking deeper and deeper into the flow of the Force. Just save these people.
She released her fear and focused solely on Vash and Kina and Visarah. Poli in another room. Asharé felt the virus in them. Felt their lungs filling with fluid as the pulmonary alveoli tried to coat themselves in a protective layer of mucus. Felt their body temperatures rise in an effort to make an inhospitable environment that would force the virus to leave.
But all the body's protective efforts were killing itself.
Master Jenro's voice seemed to whisper, Sometimes, in order to heal, you have to change the flow. You must redirect the bonds that connect.
If the current bond between virus and host was lethal to the host, then the bond needed to be changed. Reversed.
Asharé isolated one of the virus cells in Vash and changed the flow of the bond.
That virus cell began to seek out other virus cells; to devour them. Slowly, then faster, and faster, the virus pursuing and consuming itself until nothing was left.
She turned her attention to Kina and repeated the process. Then Visarah and Poli.
The alarms stopped wailing. The breathing of the patients began to ease.
Asharé felt wrung out, but there were more people in the town who were sick; she couldn't just leave them. In a daze, she left the medical building and walked from house to house. She didn't go inside; didn't even give any indication she was there. She just felt for the virus and changed it in each of the affected beings.
With each house, her steps became slower. Her lungs felt heavier. She didn't know when she began to cough. Every time she faltered, whenever she thought she couldn't take another step, she'd get the sense of Master Jenro's hands on her shoulders again, and somehow manage to push on.
By the time she reached the last house in town, Asharé felt like she was drowning. She succeeded in making the change to the virus for the people in the house, then collapsed to her knees. She coughed, hard and wet, her whole body straining to relieve the phlegm clogging her lungs and draw in air.
She felt the ephemeral hands on her shoulders, reassuring.
Well done, Asha.
She heard Per calling her name. Heard other voices raised in concern.
The last thing she saw was the ground rushing up to meet her.
Dune was dreading the comm from Midge that evening. The hunting parties had all returned empty handed. They'd cooked and eaten dinner automatically, waiting for the bad news. Winset had the comm in his hand when the call came, and he nearly dropped it in his haste to key it on.
"Winset," he gasped.
"I have good news and bad news," Midge said.
There were conflicting calls of "Give us the good news!" and "Give us the bad news."
"Good news first," Midge said, deciding for them. "The virus seems to have disappeared. Everyone's recovering almost as fast as they got sick."
The hunters all whooped and cheered. A few broke down weeping.
Winset made a 'settle down' gesture and the ruckus muted to soft crying and a few sniffles. "What's the bad news?" he asked.
There was a pause. "Kiri, Ripp, Dune, Hart all there?"
"We're here," Dune said.
"I'm sorry to tell you boys this. Ashare's sick now. She seems to be the only one."
The clones and Wookiee all looked at each other in dismay.
"I'm afraid she's in a coma."
Zilmaris critters:
Ziorm [ZEE-ohrm]: wild omnivores hunted for their meat, antlers, and hide.