And then she was running toward him, and he pulled her in, one arm wrapping around her and holding her close against his chest. He could feel the tremor in her hands even through his armor.
"Did they harm you?" he said against her hair.
"I'm fine." Her voice was steady. Her hands were not.
He held her tighter. She didn't pull away. For a moment he was aware of nothing except the fact that she was alive and upright and pressed against him, and something in his chest that had been locked down since the platform explosion loosened slightly.
It lasted exactly as long as it was allowed to.
"Khalzin! Khalzin!"
Janae's voice broke through everything. Stron released Adryel and moved.
Khalzin was already going limp. Janae was trying to hold him and losing the fight.
Stron got there first. "Friend." He grabbed him, got an arm underneath him, took his weight. Looked back over his shoulder at Janae. "We need to get out of here."
She nodded, face pale but focused. "Get him to the vessel. We'll get him to safety."
Stron loaded him in and climbed aboard. In the back, Janae settled against Khalzin as he moaned, her voice low and steady, holding him the way you hold someone when you don't know what else to do.
Stron kept his eyes forward. But he felt Adryel's presence beside him — the quiet, tightly-controlled worry she was radiating — and he thought that whatever this was on Kantenan, it had stopped being a simple threat a long time ago.
Khalzin laid out on his bed back at his apartment. A stark contrast to Stron’s residence. Khalzin’s was sleek and modern, very minimal.
It seemed generic, compared to his own home.
Of course, all the residences in this building had similar designs. Simple, stark, more about the view outside than the view inside.
Stron kept his arms crossed and stood near the door. His own wounds were superficial, and not to be bothered with. Any wounds Adryel had were equally as superficial. Janae seemed no worse, either.
Only Khalzin had taken a direct hit from one of the attackers. They were able to get him to care quickly, which was preventing him from falling to them.
The Kantenans healed relatively quickly from injuries, but medical care made a huge difference.
His gaze darted to Adryel, and he wondered if her and Janae healed as quickly from wounds. As small and delicate as they were, he doubted it.
Though calling them both delicate seemed demeaning—they both had fought back against the attackers. Something that led to their appeal.
Stron didn’t like weak females who cowered at everything.
Adryel stood next to Janae, holding her hand, while they watched the droid work to heal Khalzin’s wounds.
Stron’s mind kept racing. He knew that this wasn’t over. That attack was only the beginning of what was to come.
Yet his gaze kept focusing on Adryel.
He told himself it was because he was making sure she didn’t hide yet another injury that needed tending to.
The medical droid pulled away, and she stepped back as the droid moved.
Stron put his hand on her small shoulder.
She jerked, her body tense for a moment, until she saw him.
“What?” she whispered.
“Are you hurt?”
