In the medical bay, life and death engaged in their silent battle beneath sterile light. The alien lay suspended in a translucent stasis field, its metallic exoskeleton reflecting the blue-white illumination in dull patches. Where the outer shell had cracked, silver fluid pulsed weakly through intricate internal structures that defied human anatomical understanding.
Dr. Patel worked feverishly, her hands dancing across holographic controls as the Arbor's medical systems struggled to interpret the alien's physiology.
"Its cellular structure is breaking down at the molecular level," she reported, frustration edging her voice. "Something destroyed it from the inside out."
Emma watched the dying being through the quarantine barrier, her reflection ghosting over its face like a premonition. Six months chasing a signal across the void had led to this—not answers, but more questions wrapped in urgency.
"Can it communicate?" she asked.
As if in response, the alien's three eyes flickered open, a pale luminescence swirling in depths that seemed to reach beyond the physical. It struggled against the stasis field, limbs trembling with effort.
"Release the restraints," Emma ordered.
"Doctor Forrest—" Captain Maya began, hand instinctively moving toward her sidearm.
"If it wanted us dead, it would have transmitted our coordinates before we found it," Emma countered. "It's been alone on that planet for who knows how long, waiting for someone to hear its warning."
The stasis field disengaged with a soft hum. The alien's limbs settled, tremors subsiding as it focused its three-eyed gaze on Emma.
"You..." Its voice bypassed their ears again, resonating directly within their minds. "Carriers of the Seed... Users of what you call... WoodDust."
It extended a trembling appendage toward Emma. Without hesitation, she stepped forward and touched her palm to its skin. The contact sent electric awareness coursing through her nerves—not pain, but connection, intimate and invasive.
"The K'tharr seek what flows through your world's core," the alien continued, each word costing precious energy. "Vorlag leads them... ancient... patient... hungry."
Images flooded Emma's consciousness—visceral, overwhelming. Massive vessels cutting through space like predatory fish, their hulls an impossible fusion of metal and organic matter. Planets methodically dismantled, their resources extracted with mechanical precision. Species fleeing, fighting, falling.
And then—Earth appeared, its continents instantly recognizable, its forests glowing with a vibrancy that stood out among countless worlds. In the vision, the K'tharr ships approached with singular purpose.
"The Seed of Worlds," the alien whispered directly into Emma's mind. "Earth carries it... unique among stars. The K'tharr have sensed it... they come."
The connection shattered as the alien convulsed. Silver fluid leaked from its joints, pooling beneath its failing body.
"The alliance tried... to warn all worlds," it rasped, strength fading rapidly. "Too late for us... not too late... for you."
Its final gift poured forth—data streamed from neural pathways into the Arbor's systems, overwhelming the medical bay's processing capacity. Schematics, star charts, weapon designs, biological profiles—the desperate legacy of a civilization that had faced annihilation and chosen to arm its successors rather than save itself.
"They see... your future... in their path," the alien whispered.
Then stillness. The light in its eyes dimmed to nothing.
Emma stepped back, trembling not from fear but from the weight of knowledge suddenly thrust upon her. The medical bay's screens filled with information—the dying testament of a species whose name they would never know.
---
The bridge buzzed with controlled urgency as the crew assembled, faces grim beneath the red emergency lighting. Chloe's fingers danced across multiple interfaces, sorting through the alien's data dump with algorithmic precision.
"It's not just a warning," she announced, voice tight with professional control masking deeper dread. "It's a complete strategic assessment of the K'tharr. Their movements, technologies, weaknesses—everything this species learned before they were wiped out."
A three-dimensional map materialized above the central console, showing a swath of destruction cutting across unfamiliar star systems—worlds systematically harvested, stripped of resources, left as hollow shells.
"Their pattern is clear," Maya said, military training evident in her analytical tone. "They identify resource-rich worlds, strip them completely, then move on. No negotiation. No mercy."
Emma studied the projection, mind racing. "The alien said Earth was special—that it carries something they want."
"The 'Seed of Worlds,'" Liam added, his scientific curiosity temporarily overriding fear. "Could it be related to why the Zogarians targeted our forests specifically?"
Emma's fingers brushed against her father's journal, tucked securely in her pocket. His cryptic notes about "the green network" suddenly carried new weight.
"We need to understand what makes Earth different," she said, decision crystallizing. "And we need its defenses ready before the K'tharr arrive."
Mark stepped forward, his practical nature asserting itself. "We should return immediately—warn Earth Command."
"With what?" Emma challenged. "Vague warnings about another alien threat? After everything humanity survived with the Zogarians, they'll need more than fear to mobilize."
She gestured toward the star chart where one system pulsed with a distinctive energy signature—similar to WoodDust but amplified exponentially.
"The alien gave us coordinates," she continued. "A world the K'tharr haven't reached yet—one that apparently has technology specifically designed to counter them. If we go there first, we bring Earth real solutions, not just warnings."
The crew exchanged glances, weighing caution against necessity. They had come seeking answers about one enemy, only to discover a greater threat looming. Now they faced an impossible choice: return home with incomplete information or press forward into greater danger.
Chloe broke the silence, her voice steady despite everything. "The alien believed we could make a difference. Otherwise, why lead us here? Why give us all this?"
Emma nodded, grateful for the support. "We continue. We learn everything we can about the K'tharr, find the weapons to fight them, and then we return to Earth—not just with warnings, but with hope."
As the Arbor's engines powered up, adjusting course toward the mysterious coordinates, Emma returned to the medical bay. The alien lay covered now, its final moments preserved in the ship's records. She placed her hand on the shroud, a gesture of respect across species.
"We won't waste your sacrifice," she promised quietly.
The Arbor accelerated into the darkness, carrying its human crew deeper into a conflict that had been raging long before Earth knew it existed—a war for the very essence that made worlds live.