The Avalon Chronicles

Chapter Eleven

Natania had a more severe convulsion episode just as the sun was beginning to rise. Des had been watching over her for the night and called for everyone to enter the rest bay as he pushed the Sul-ya back onto her makeshift bed when her spasms nearly caused her to topple to the floor.

Ryver was becoming increasingly worried about the Sul-ya's wellbeing—and more desperate to fix the Avalon so she could get the Sul-ya some help.

Ryver tasked herself with wiping down the sweating woman's head to try and cool her down while Quinn and Des set to putting the scrapped hull pieces into position so they could start repairing the ship.

"Ryver, I can take over," Senna offered, stepping closer. "The sooner we get off this planet, the more likely we are to find help for her."

"I don't know how we're going to find help for her without showing her to other Sul-yas," Ryver murmured, passing the rag to Senna. "Try to cool her down, and see if you can wake her up. I'll go see what I can do with these hull pieces."

With one more worried glance at the unconscious Sul-ya, Ryver left the rest bay and went outside to help with repairs for the Avalon.

She knew the hull was only a small part of what needed to be fixed. The thruster-igniter was going to be the most expensive and most crucial part the Avalon needed to clear the atmosphere and get them to a planet better equipped to handle the extensive repairs needed. But despite the long list of repairs the ship would need, Ryver found it easier to focus on the hull—it was something she could fix in the moment.

Unfortunately, one of the panels that would need to be replaced was still mostly-buried in sand, and they would need to get some of the Avalon's systems up and running before they could repair the final panel. Ryver had already decided to go back to the town later that day and try her luck again with the dealers to see if they had any parts that could match the Avalon. Marguri had been right in saying the ship was rare, so she was most worried about the thruster parts she would need, not sure such a desolate planet would have the parts needed.

As she was working on detaching the torn hull piece from the Avalon, Quinn whistled to her. She stopped cutting the panel free and followed his gaze to spot four figures coming out of the desert dunes on scooter-like vehicles that kicked up a large wake of sand as they moved.

Ryver scrambled down from the side of the Avalon and rushed to Quinn.

"Des, get blasters," Ryver ordered.

He moved quickly to obey.

"Think these are scrappers?"

"I would be surprised if they weren't," Ryver replied.

The scooters slowed as the strangers approached, all of them clad in tan and brown tunics with helmets that had goggles attached to protect them from the pelting of sand grains. Their mouths were also covered with scraps of cloth that they did not bother to remove as they dismounted their scooters and started toward the crew of the Avalon.

Des stumbled out of the Avalon and discreetly handed Quinn and Ryver blasters, which they both hid behind their backs.

"Who are you?" Ryver called to them, unsure they would even understand the common tongue.

They did not stop walking. Ryver discreetly used her thumb to get her blaster off safety mode, her palms beginning to sweat.

"That's close enough!" Quinn snapped. "Who are you and what do you want?"