Once I find what I’m looking for, I push the tube down Pol’s throat and slip the mask over his face. His breathing eases as the device clears a path and takes the pressure off his struggling lungs. Still, his body jerks, his eyes rolling and shifting and mostly white.

Drom looks down at her twin with a stricken expression.

“He’s dying, isn’t he?”

I turn away, rummaging through medical supplies and searching for an answer other than I don’t know or yes, he is, say your goodbyes. I fill a syringe with an anticonvulsant and a painkiller. It’s not time for goodbyes just yet.

As the medicine floods his veins, Pol’s body slackens, his eyes fluttering shut. He’s finally unconscious, which is likely a blessing for him. Drom doesn’t relinquish her grip on his shoulders, as if she’s trying to anchor him here.

“I’m doing what I can,” I say.

Or, rather, I already have. I’ve cleared his breathing passages, stopped the muscle convulsions, taken away his pain. But I’m treating the symptoms, not the cause. I have no idea what other chaos this thing is wreaking within his body. I could run some scans, perform some tests… but I’m not sure there would be a point to it. He’s within the jaws of this weapon, and I have no way to pry him free. I have no idea how to even try. I’ve seen all manner of disease and injury in the war, both natural and human-manufactured, but this alien monstrosity is beyond my capabilities.

Drom and I stand on either side of the table, staring down at our brother as his breathing gradually weakens. With one gloved hand, I carefully brush his hair back from his face. It’s very pale, save for the blossoming bruises where my fist struck it earlier. He needs me now. I can’t lose it. But I can’t bring myself to fight the voice inside my head insisting that it’s pointless. I’m going to lose him, like all the rest. Just like I lost everything and everyone on the planet I left behind.

A screen on the wall crackles to life, and Scorpia’s voice comes through the tinny speaker.

“Corvus? Let me know when Apollo… u-um… when you’re ready to launch.”

Drom looks at me wordlessly. I swallow hard, unable to bring myself to respond to either of my sisters. We need to strap in before Scorpia can get us off this planet. I can secure Pol to the medical bed, but… with the pressure of lift-off and the fact that I won’t be able to get to him, he’ll never make it.