Page 3 of Akur

And he almost made it to a ship. Through the haze of pain, he barely made out the curved horns of the male that now blocked his path. Even in the dim emergency lighting, the fresh wounds across E’lot’s chest gleamed wet and raw.

Thank the stars. He was alive. One of the Restitution’s best fighters, still standing. He could barely grunt a breath of relief. At least not all was lost. Some rebels remained. Not everyone was dead. Not yet.

“Move.”

“Get back to the bunker, Akur.”

“The Tasqals…” He breathed. “They have humans. I saw the ship. I have to—”

“You can’t go.” E’lot made himself bigger. “You’re in no shape to go alone.”

“Try to stop me,” he grunted, brushing past the large male as he staggered toward a small shuttle. It was a little thing, barely worthy of taking into deep space, scorched and dented from debris—but there was no other option. It was either that or give up.

He was Shum’ai. He was built to persevere.

Weakness was not an option. Not when their enemies thought they’d won. Not when they needed to show that this rebellion wouldn’t die so easily.

And not when the haunting gaze of that bright-eyed female still scorched his memory. That quiet acceptance in her eyes had cut deeper than any weapon could, and he’d be damned if he’d prove her right.

Throwing the shuttle doors open, he glanced over his shoulder, vision waning as he looked back at the large male. E’lot stood there,covered in scars and fresh wounds, but with his chin tilted high.

Qrak. He wasn’t going to let him go alone, was he.

“Are you coming or not?”

E’lot huffed a breath through his nostrils, the septum ring he wore swaying with the motion, before he stepped forward. In his eyes burned the same fury, the same refusal to let this be the end.

Star date:Present time

Akur’s clawscurled into fists, his knuckles blanching pale teal as he fought the urge to slam them into the console before him. Beside him, E’lot asked something. A question he barely heard, but one that manifested like a whisper ricocheting in his head, anyway.

What if they didn’t find the humans?

The ship that took them could be anywhere across the stars by now.

But he couldn’t accept that.Wouldn’taccept it. There had to besomesign of them, some trail to follow across this endless void. There was no other option.

Otherwise… Otherwise, he’d have to face the destruction left behind.

He’d have to face their loss.

Hisfailure.

His claws dug into his palms, breaking the skin. Lifeblood swelled, but he barely felt the sting. His mouth curled in irritation instead.

“We’ve been searching for long, Akur.” There was a tinge of resignation in Elot’s voice. “We don’t know where to look.”

He was right. Their chances of finding the Tasqal ship were dismally low.

Perfectly healed now, he was thinking straight. That didn’t change the fact that he wasn’t turning back. But the void was vast, and the Tasqals cunning.

They had better weapons. A faster ship. Even with a damaged vessel, they were better off than the shuttle he and E’lot were using to chase after them. Not to mention that the Tasqals also had more resources—and a terrifying new warp technology neither of them understood.

“Perhaps we should return,” E’lot continued. “Help any survivors…”

Silence enveloped their little shuttle.

There was nothing left to return to. Both of them knew that. The Restitution’s base was a place that only now existed in their memories.

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