Rescue, Rehabilitate, Release

“And the current outlook?” 

“Without intervention…poor.” 

For a brief moment, everything was tense and quiet. Kellworth sat back and nervously ran his tongue along the inside of his beak. Meetings like this made him feel clammy and cold, uncertain of what to do or say. Thankfully, someone else spoke up, breaking the silence.

“So let us move quickly, then, in creating a plan. You said these creatures are a species of greatest conservation concern?” 

The hologram’s soft blue light flickered at the front of the room. The projection showed a spokesperson from Owai-6’s Institute for Conservation: a tall Korso with unusually long ears, wearing a tight white one-piece suit adorned with the organization’s logo. Behind her, a larger screen projected images of Koronoks along with photographs of their natural habitat. 

“That is correct. Their population decline is a recent development. Surveys show that their previously stable numbers have taken a concerning nosedive, beginning two cycles ago. We are requesting ARC’s assistance in determining the cause of this population decline.” 

Hushed murmuring rose in the room, then died down. Crisply, the Korso spokesperson continued: “ARC’s capabilities in genetic isolation technology are our best hope at both finding the cause and solution for the population’s destabilization.” 

Her eyes swept the room to assess the listeners and their reactions. Seated at the back of the room, Kellworth could not see his constituents' faces; he wished he could. “I do not need to further emphasize,” she said gravely, “how lucky we are that this planet remained relatively untouched by the Blight. As such, it is our duty to do everything we can to protect Owai-6 and all organisms  that make their home on this planet.”

Quite a serious Korso, Kellworth thought. Perhaps the most serious one could reasonably encounter. But the measured urgency in her voice clearly came from a place of concern and passion—a sentiment that everyone in her audience could relate to.

“We will offer any support needed. Kellworth-" 

Kellworth snapped to attention. “Yes?” 

“Would you please contact Expeditionary Service to put in a request for a specialized Ranger team? 

Kellworth felt relief flood through him. Bad news was hard to sit with. But a plan? Yes, that felt better. He could do plenty with that. “Yes, absolutely!”

“You want me to oversee the formation of a team of Rangers…for Jurupa Forest?” Vas’an sounded slightly more annoyed than usual. 

“Precisely!”

“Kell.” Vas’an paused. “We’ve known each other for long enough. Surely by now you understand my job is to organize OFF-planet expeditions. Why come to me about this?” 

Kellworth tapped his hooves together. “Yes, yes, I know. But Vas, listen!” he added hastily, as their eyes narrowed. “This is a unique situation! The Conservation Institute approached us with a time-sensitive request for this project, and well…” 

Vas’an looked unimpressed. They were practically a professional, when it came to that sort of thing. But Kellworth knew them enough to see a sliver of curiosity in their eyes, a glimmer of interest in what he had to say next. 

“Think of all the praise you’ll get for helping such a cute species!” Kellworth said, trying a different tactic. “Maybe you’ll even get to hold one? And—” 

Vas’an’s unimpressed expression did not waver. Darn. 

“—and, well, you’re my friend, Vas!” he said. He gave Vas’an a sheepish smile. "I feel like if anyone can help me with this, it’d be you. I wanted to work on it with you.” 

Vas’an’s ear twitched. Kellworth could practically see the cogs in their head turning. “Hmm. An awful lot of excuses, although it almost sounds like perhaps you just want to—“ 

“—perhaps I just want to spend more time with you. Yes. Correct.” 

After a moment, Vas’an smiled slightly. The curiosity in their eyes had turned into satisfaction. “You ought to have started off with that.” They took a moment to quickly type something into the pad. “I will handle this operation—but next time, just come bother me when I’m not working, Kell.” 

Kellworth gave a chuckle. “And here I was prepared to have to beg you to take on this case. To think all I need to say was-“ 

“Shut it, before I change my mind.” 

Kellworth clacked his beak shut, but couldn’t do anything about the smile turning up the corners of his lips. “I’ll be off to report back to ARC then. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

Vas’an couldn’t exactly bring themselves to regret their decision to help out Kellworth, but it was certainly putting a big block in their calendar. They had already spent most of the evening on applicant profiles, reading and setting the promising ones aside. First they needed someone adept at handling the public-facing side of things. Someone who was passionate and invested, but charming, with a friendly face…someone like… 

Their stomach grumbled. This was taking longer than they’d anticipated. The Varrox leaned back in their chair and stretched, raising their arms over their head and cracking their double-jointed wrists. Then they settled back to look at the holoscreen, swiping to bring up the next applicant. 

“Name: Vio. Species: Xero…” A special case from the X-1118A Experimental Rebuilt Organism initiative, hmm? They leaned in, reading off Vio’s qualifications. “Helped with Boolew domestication efforts as a lead adoption organizer…Aberion resident…” 

A video was attached in Vio’s file. Vas’an clicked. A pixelated mass was projected from the screen before it fully loaded, clearing into a soft blue 3D projection of a slim Xero. 

“Hi, I’m V-10, but you can call me Vio,” the Xero said, their voice cheerful and friendly. Thank you so much for reviewing my application. I’m registered with the Rangers program, and I’m looking for lead coordinator positions pertaining to the conservation and care of any animal species, anywhere in the galaxy! Coming from the XERO Project, I have a unique understanding of why we must continue our efforts in preserving our natural home. All of my work is driven by the prospect of creating a future where all species can live in unity. Thank you for your consideration.” 

“You!” Vas’an’s eyes glimmered. They had found perhaps the most perfect candidate. Not only was this Xero extremely cute, they were passionate and well-educated with plenty of practical experience to boot. And their energy was infectious. Very important for garnering public interest, they thought. 

Enjoying the high of making some progress, Vas’an’s hand met the top of their muzzle and they brushed their fur back. When they glanced out the window, they saw that the sun had already dipped beyond the horizon. So much for grabbing dinner at that wrap place they liked… 

Vio had a pretty good start to what initially seemed like a normal morning. They woke up and stretched—almost falling out of their nest—before slinking down the steps of their treetop home. They planned to brush their teeth and hair and ears and tail. On their way to the bathroom, they stopped by the kitchen to chop up a lantern fruit and tossed it into the juice blender.

As they started up the blender, Leo popped his head out from the stairs leading to the lower level of the home. “Uhh, your Ranger’s receiver has been pinging all morning,” he said. 

Vio brushed the sleep out of their eyes, processing what their roommate had just said. “It’s probably just inquiries on Boolew adoptions.” 

“Mmm, I don’t know V, from the sound of all that pinging, I think it might be something more—” Leo’s eyes darted around the room as he searched for the right word. “—important.” 

'Boolews are important!’ They thought but the brief annoyance on Vio’s face quickly turned into curiosity. “I’m just going to freshen up and I’ll be sure to check it, pronto!” 

Leo smiled and shot them a thumbs-up before disappearing under the floor again. Vio had just enough time to wonder what it could possibly be before the juicer chimed. They licked their teeth as they poured out the colorful juice. No point in waiting to have breakfast now. 

After filling their belly and getting prepared to face the day, Vio picked up their receiver from the charging station. The household decided it was best to separate themselves from the electronics before bedtime, so the devices wouldn’t disturb their sleep. As they scrolled through the list of notifications—most of them were related to companion adoptions or news developments for Rangers—but one was from an unfamiliar source. They clicked.

V-10, thank you for submitting your application for the lead coordinator position in the Rangers Corp. You have been selected to lead a Rescue, Rehabilitate and Release mission regarding the currently threatened animal species; Koronoks.” 

“The program will take place in Aberion. The Rangers Corp is able to provide grant funding to cover travel, management, resource acquisition, and other expenses that you and your team might require during the program.”

Your participation is not obligated, but it would be greatly appreciated if you choose to accept. I await your reply at your earliest convenience.

—Vas’an, OD Consultant, Rangers Corp.

By the time they finished reading, Vio was vibrating from head to toe. Leo, who had stopped by to grab his holophone before heading out for the day, touched the tip of his tail to theirs. 

“So what was it?” he said, puzzled. 

Their mind racing, Vio carefully put the receiver down, then whirled around and hugged Leo so tightly that the taller Xero wheezed. “V!? Is everything OK?” 

“Better than OK! Everything is so, so good, Leo! I’ve been chosen to help save the Koronoks!” 

Kellworth kicked his feet to and fro as he used a two-tined fork to skewer salad leaves. “So tell me more about the candidate you went with!”

Vas’an was unamused. “When I’m at work, you want to hang out, and when we hang out, you want to talk about work?” 

Kellworth nodded, beaming through a beak full of leaves. Vas’an sighed. “Well for starters, they’re a Xero.” 

“A Xero? How fortunate!”

Vas’an stirred their spiced tea. “You could say that. The attention it will bring to the plight of the Koronok is a definite plus—but it’s more than that. Their portfolio was actually quite extensive. I think it will be a very good fit. I’ve already emailed them resources as information about who they’ll be working with and reporting to…” Vas’an trailed off furrowing their brow. “You know Kellworth, I think it’s rude in Korso culture as well to be on your holophone during a conversation.” 

Kellworth set it down. “Oh, sorry, Vas—I was just checking to see if I knew them!” 

Vas’an was dumbfounded for a second. “If you knew them? Do you know every Xero that walks out of ARC?” 

Kellworth giggled. “Oh shooting stars—no! But I do know some of them! What’s their name?” 

“Vio. V-10.” 

All at once, Kellworth’s usual cheerfully spacey attitude seemed to become sharply focused. “V-10—? You mean a prototype Xero?” 

Vas’an found themselves wrestling with the uncharacteristic feeling of being put on the spot. Their tail twitched nervously. “I suppose…?” 

 Kellworth seemed to come down from his moment of odd clarity “I…well, I don’t know them. Do you think they’d like a fruit basket?” 

“What?” 

“They’ll have to come by ARC at some point. I figure it’d be nice to get something for them. And everyone likes fruit. Right? Or do you think it’s too basic? I could see if I can get some fruit from off-planet. Oh, but it’s not a good season, the harvest has been over for—what if they don’t like fruit?” 

Vas’an held out a paw to stop him. “Yes, Kell,” they said. “I think a fruit basket would be fine.”

The next few days passed in a whirlwind. In spite of everyone’s help, the pressure was incredibly tense. When they grew particularly tired, Vio often imagined two versions of themself: the past Vio, who had eagerly agreed to the job without much thought, and the present-day Vio, who was beginning to get a sense how much work was looming in their near future—and it really was work, in the truest definition of the word, from morning till night.  

But Vio’s schedule was about to grow even busier, if that was even possible. The directors and supervisors of the lab had requested to meet them, so it was off to Harbor. Vio wasn’t unfamiliar with Harbor—in fact, they had been hatched here. They had spent the first couple cycles of their life here, wandering the shores. The sea air, the tide pools, the roar of the crashing waves…how nostalgic it all was. 

The lab had offered Vio an on-site villa close to the university campus. The white buildings were built in a rounded, organic shape, and pockets of soft golden lights peeked through the greenery. In the wide window was a flower box filled with blooming plants, and an excellent view of the ocean lay outside. But Vio privately thought it didn’t hold a candle to the wild, jungle treetops in Aberion. Neither did the sky. Even though Harbor’s architecture had been built to minimize light pollution, the stars still seemed to be dimmer here.

Vio wrote down a few notes in their journal and closed it, scratching the top of their head. Despite the lovely night outside, anxiety lurked inside their chest, tightening their throat. They took a deep breath and got up from the desk, walking over to the kitchen. A small case of ripe Ru Berries had been graciously gifted to them by a Korso—Kellworth, if they remembered correctly—and Vio had been dying to snack on them all day. 

Vio popped a few berries into their mouth as thoughts buzzed through their head. They were expected to develop a plan of action then go out into the field with their assigned team. Days of research laid ahead of them: what bait to craft based on the Koronok’s diet of mushrooms, how to craft humane traps that met the Alurizan’s approval, where to gather habitat and range data…they barely tasted the berries they were eating, it was so much to think about. Before they knew it, half the case was gone. 

Deciding to save the rest for later, Vio stowed the berries away and slipped out of their room into a common area of the building. Fresh air. Fresh air and a walk would do them good, calm their nerves enough to get them to sleep. They paced in aimless circles before heading onto a skyway. From this height, Vio could see more of the city as they walked. 

“V-10?”

Vio turned their head at the sound of this unfamiliar voice. “I’m sorry, it’s Vio now,” they said automatically. “Who–?”  

Standing before them was another Xero: bright green with darker stripes, tall and clad in a long white lab coat. “Your files are out of date, then,” said the other Xero. “That will have to be corrected.” They stared out at the city below, not looking directly at Vio. 

Vio waited, then realized a further response was not forthcoming. “D-do I know you?” they said. “Or maybe—do you work here?” 

They turned their eyes upon Vio, who squeaked in surprise. The other Xero had a split, two-toned face. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t,” they said. “Apologies. I am Dee. And I work for Project Xero.”

Dee crossed both pairs of arms behind his back and studied Vio. Why, the poor Xero before him was acting like a youngling! Dee was not normally one to pass judgment so quickly; he found it distasteful. But he could not help but think that this Xero did not exude confidence…in his opinion, at least.

“I was informed that you’d be paying ARC a visit,” he said. He spoke in a matter-of-fact voice, his pronunciation crisp and precise. “I was supposed to meet you tomorrow. But it looks like the stars aligned tonight.”

Vio shifted, their paws fidgeting at their side.  “That’s right. But I don’t understand why you…”

Dee raised an eyebrow when the other Xero trailed off. “You should properly think through what you have to say before opening your mouth.” 

Coming from him, it was meant as advice, and it sounded like a statement of fact rather than intentionally mean. But for Vio, that almost made it worse. They couldn’t help but flinch.

Although they tried to brush it off, Dee noticed easily. “...I apologize if that was too direct. What was your question?” 

“I just don’t know why you’d approach me tonight, then. I mean…” 

Dee placed his upper two paws on the railing. The wind picked up, ruffling his two-toned fur. “Fate, maybe. If you believe in that sort of thing.” 

Vio pinned their ears back. Was that a joke? They found themself again unsure of what to say.

“You are no good at talking to strangers, Vio.” Dee smirked. “I can’t begin to imagine why you were hired to fill a public-facing position.” 

“Honestly? Neither are you, Dee!” Vio clapped a paw over their muzzle, aghast. The fur on their back stood on end. 

The taller Xero locked his eyes onto theirs. A fire flickered to life in those eyes, the flames threatening to lash out and sear into Vio, burning them up from the inside-out. But that didn’t happen—or rather, it only happened in Vio’s imagination. Instead, Dee smiled. 

“I suppose I am not. That makes my role as a lab supervisor all the more fitting. I’ll be interested to hear your presentation regarding the Koronoks tomorrow.” 

Dee turned to walk away, but paused and looked back. “Be more confident, Vio. You were chosen to lead this project for a reason.” 

Vio watched him go. What a cheerless Xero, they thought. And he said it like it was so easy: be confident. Like it was a switch they could turn on and off at will. 

Vio turned to leave as well. Maybe it was because of the awkward interaction or maybe because it was just late, but they suddenly felt tired as well. And tomorrow was yet another busy day.

“...at this point, does anyone have any questions?”

Although Vio kept their voice level, they couldn’t help but clutch the pointer in their paws tightly.  Members of ARC’s lab wing were sitting before them, listening to their presentation about the Koronoks. If they thought too much about it, their head would spin. 

To make things worse, sitting front-and-center was Dee. And no one was asking any questions. Vio swallowed. 

“Well, then…once you’ve isolated the exact issue that is impacting the Koronok population, we will reconvene to form a proposal for a solution. After it is approved and implemented, the Rangers Corp will instruct us on how to release the Koronoks back into the wild!” 

They raised their paws up in celebration. On the screen, colorful confetti floated down over their presentation slides. Vio had gone back and forth on whether to add that final finishing touch, although thankfully it seemed that most of the people in attendance appreciated the spot of levity—except for Dee. He stared at them, poker-faced. 

Maybe he didn’t get enough sleep either, Vio thought. A soft cough from the audience made them realize that they still needed to make their closing remarks. 

“Thank you all for coming. I will be leaving the lab shortly to serve as the Lead on the Rescue, Rehabilitate, and Release Initiative in Jurupa, but I look forward to seeing you all again in the coming weeks. I have hope in our efforts!” 

Shortly after people filed out one-by-one. Some stopped to congratulate them on a job well done. Although in all honesty, Vio didn’t feel like they deserved any praise quite yet. The real work was yet to come. 

Vio tapped their holopad to minimize the hologram of the presentation, but before they could properly stow the device, Dee was there. He slid it out from underneath their paw and opened the file again, flicking through the presentation with an assessing sort of look. 

“Please give that back.” Vio’s voice was soft but firm. 

Dee continued to scroll. “You truly have hope for these animals?” 

They reached out, but one of Dee’s many paws caught their wrist in a light grip. “Answer the question.” 

Vio snatched their hand away, feeling the tips of their ears getting hot. “Of course I do. Do you?” 

“I won’t know until I have one in the lab in front of me,” Dee said calmly. “For all that we know, the population could be infested with a viral pathogen that will wipe them all out before we can adequately intervene.” 

Vio flattened their ears to the sides in annoyance. “I would like to believe that isn’t the case. If it is, it’s possible to isolate a disease within a population. And even in a worst-case scenario, ARC is capable of resurrecting species, right?” 

Dee paused for a moment, then held the tablet towards them and Vio snatched it back, shoving it into their cross-body bag. Dee stepped aside as they walked out of the room, not looking back at him.” 

“I admire your dedication.” 

Vio stopped. Had that been a compliment? 

“This lab is full of good people,” said Dee. Although he hadn’t followed them out of the room, they could still hear his voice clearly. “People who care deeply about the work we do here. I can say with full confidence we will all do our best for the Koronoks. There is another thing. I don’t think we got off on the right foot last night. I have been told that I am not very nice when I haven’t had my morning caffeine.” 

Vio couldn’t believe their ears. It was like now that Dee was out of sight, he was a different person. “Thank you, Dee. I really hope you’re right. For the Koronoks’ sake.” 

Still a little puzzled, Vio continued down the hallway. One thing was certain: after the last few days, they really couldn’t wait to get back to Aberion.

Two weeks had passed since Vio’s initial presentation to the ARC team, and Dee’s crew had spent all of it working tirelessly. The traps had been more than successful. Captured animals were coming into the labs at all hours, and each had to be individually quarantined and tested.

So far data had been collected from 236 animals, and of that sample, at least 80% were infected with an unknown disease. Dee had spent hours poring over the numbers, which made no sense to him. There was no throughline in age, sex or location. And yet the Koronok population continued to dwindle, exponentially and decisively. 

While captive specimens seemed to improve in controlled conditions, most continued to display symptoms of lethargy and weakness. Others appeared to be disoriented, falling from their perches and nests. Many excessively drooled and displayed an insatiable thirst, gulping down water. And most confusingly of all, some Koronoks appeared healthy upon arrival, only to display symptoms after intake. 

Dee rubbed at his eyes. A small timer on the desk chirped; it was time for a break. He stood up, grabbing a small spray bottle from a cabinet before heading to the small terrarium perched on the window. He sprayed moisture on the plants, using tweezers to carefully remove dead leaves from the soil. Absent-mindedly, he held a leaf up to the light, rotating it. Numbers and charts were racing through his mind, their meaning just barely eluding him.  

The ping of a message notification caused him to lose focus and he glanced down at his screen. On Vio’s request, some old documentation about the Koronoks had been forwarded to the lab: and it really was old-school, paper documentation. But he didn’t have time to enjoy the novelty. Dee scrolled through the documents, his eyes darting across the screen. He muttered the words out loud as he read.

“Koronoks serve an essential role in the canopy, understory and forest floor, playing a crucial part in pollination and spore dispersal as they search for and consume their preferred foods: flora and fungi.” Interesting.

Before he could think about it much, there was another ping. Grumbling, Dee stopped reading and turned to respond to whoever needed his attention. He couldn’t afford to be distracted when there was so much work to be done.

After their return to Aberion, Vio’s morning routine began much earlier than usual: there were traps that needed to be checked, messages that needed to be replied to. The first few days of this had been difficult, and they’d had to practically drag themself out of bed. But recently it had mellowed out into a doable routine. 

Every morning, Vio would head into the local Rangers Office and wait for a crew to be assembled. The crew members differed from day-to-day, but there were always enough helping hands. It made Vio happy to see how many people cared enough to volunteer their own time, pitch into a common goal. 

Vio then loaded the crew into a small hovercraft and flew them out to a more remote location in the forest. The crew would gear up then, donning puncture-proof gloves with padding that would protect against bites from angry critters. Vio had a pair of nice work boots that they laced up high, along with a pair of strap-on tail packs and a backpack stuffed with equipment, first aid kit, signal flares, their Ranger Receiver, and most importantly: trail mix. 

The crew set out in teams of two, regularly pinging each other every half-hour to ensure that each group was on-track. Today Vio’s partner was Trix, a Boubali about the same height as themselves. As was typical of Boubalis, unlike Vio, she didn’t really have fur. But she was quite cute, and wore a small bandana to protect her skin from insects and the elements. 

Their first stop was a long walk downhill from the grassy clearing where the hovercraft had landed. A grove of trees had been set with three traps in three separate locations: on the ground, in the cover of a bush cover, and in a tree. Trix had easily kept up with Vio and they helped one another down the steep incline. 

The ground trap had not been tripped, but the bait had been taken. Trix trotted over to it for a closer examination. “No luck. Must have been eaten by insects…” 

Vio sighed. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Well, I’ll reset this one and check the camera while you check the bush trap.”

Each trap had a movement-triggered sensor that activated a video camera. As Vio scrubbed through the recordings, however, there was nothing of interest. A few bird-like creatures hopped by, but seemed to avoid the trap. The mushroom-y bait must not have been as appealing to them as it was to the Koronoks. 

Trix made her way back, huffing and puffing. Vio glanced over at her. “Do you need a moment to catch your breath before we check the tree trap?” 

She knelt and seemingly pretended to dig through her bag. “No, it’s okay.” 

Vio could tell she was lying through her teeth, but didn’t want to embarrass her. “Okay. Let’s go. I’ll check this one, it’ll be easier for me to get up into the tree,” they said, seeing a faint flash of relief in their eyes.  

The two of them followed the trap’s GPS location to a tall sturdy tree. Vio pressed a hand to the dark red trunk as Trix squinted into the canopy above, shading her eyes with one hand. “Ugh, I don’t see it. Do you know where it is?” 

Vio nodded, setting down their backpack. They flipped up a covering flap from the heel of their shoes and pressed a button on each heel. A pulse emanated from the soles, and with little fanfare, they were levitating a few inches above the ground.

“Yell if you need me!” Trix called, as they found their footing, keeping one paw on the trunk for stability. They shot her a thumbs-up as they floated higher and higher. It was a long way up. even the lowest branch of the tree was maybe twenty feet in the air. Vio pushed past the withered and dead lower branches as they ascended, searching for the trap. The wind rustled their fur, carrying a pleasant scent on the breeze. Suddenly, part of them desperately wished that they could take a break, find somewhere to sit and soak it all in. But that had to wait. They had work to do. 

Then a glimmer caught their eye and they looked up. With a little boost, they grabbed onto a limb and climbed up onto the branches above. 

There, locked in place on a sturdy limb, was the trap—placed conveniently near a hollow in the trunk that almost certainly led to the nest. The bait was gone and the trap had been tripped—but would there be a Koroknok inside? 

Vio deactivated their boots to stop their ascent and pulled out the receiver again. “Trix, we have something in this trap. I’m going to need to lower it down, but I need my gloves and some rope. Could you check my pack for a drone and attach those items please?” 

Trix was silent. “Trix?” they repeated, suddenly alarmed.  

“Yeah? Oh! You didn’t say ‘over.’ Over.” 

Vio huffed in amusement and relief. “Oops! Sorry. I guess I got excited. Over.” 

“Yep yep! I’m getting the drone packed now. Over.” 

They turned their attention back to the trap, taking the time to closely examine it. Sure enough, something was inside. From the sounds it was making, it seemed distressed. 

Vio’s ears drooped. They’d be pretty unhappy too, they thought, if they went to get lunch and suddenly found themself trapped in a box. But it was all for a good reason. If only they had the power to convey that message. 

With a whirring sound, the drone moved into view, hovering politely next to them. It spoke in a soft, robotic voice. “Hello, Vio. Lovely weather we’re having.” 

The wind picked up, buffeting both Vio and the drone. They chuckled. “If you say so. Could you give me my gloves, please? And carry this?” 

The drone obliged, then scanned the large container that comprised most of the trap. “My apologies, but that would not be feasible. My carrying capacity is insufficient as I was designed for loads of under 10 pounds. I advise an alternative course of action: use a 50 foot rope to tie a bowline knot and ballet it down to Trix.” 

Standing dozens of feet off the ground, blown about by wind and with a distressed animal in front of them, Vio’s mind went blank as they tried to remember what they knew about knots. “Um, could you provide me with a guide on how to tie that?” 

“Affirmative.” A holoscreen display slid out from the drone. As the tutorial played, Vio shimmied closer to the trap and used their tail to brace themself they peered into the trap’s privacy screen.

When triggered, one wall of the trap became a one-way window. An observer could see into the trap at certain angles, but the creature inside couldn’t see out of it. It had been designed to be minimally distressing—minimally being the key word, as the white-furred creature inside was clearly not pleased. It had a long, noodly body shape and although it couldn’t see Vio, it could clearly still hear them, and it skittered frantically from side to side, banging into the walls. It might have successfully flung the trap off the branch, had it not been properly secured. 

After following the drone’s projected instructions and securing the rope around the trap, Vio radio’d down to Trix. The drone flew down to keep watch as they lowered the trap. Once Trix had untied the trap and given the all-clear, Vio pulled the remainder of the rope up and wrapped it around the branch to help steady themself on their descent. 

Finally, solid ground. Vio took a moment to resecure the boots’ failsafe plates, silently enjoying the relief that came from having both their feet planted firmly on the earth. Now it was Trix’s turn to peer into the trap. 

“It’s pretty upset,” she said.

“I’d be too, if I was abducted on my way to lunch,” Vio chirped back. 

She giggled, then her expression grew sad. “It doesn’t know we’re just trying to help.” She raised the trap up to eye level and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Sorry little guy, you must be so frightened. But you’ll be okay. I promise.” 

Vio swallowed, thankful she was too distracted to notice the expression on their face. She doesn’t know how much ARC is struggling to find a cause for the population decline, they thought. How uncertain this all is…

Forcing back a surge of anxiety, Vio deactivated the drone and put it back into their backpack. “Do you want me to carry your bag?” 

Trix thought for a moment, then nodded. “If it isn’t too much trouble. That way I can keep this little guy stable on our way back.” She gently picked up the trap. “Come on, little buddy,” she said. “We’ve got you.”

And the two of them returned to the ship with the Koronok in tow.

Tired but pressing determinedly onward, Vio and Trix made it up the crest of the hill and back to the ship. It had taken hours for them to check and collect all the traps, and it seemed like it was taking others even longer—a few teams had yet to return. 

Vio took a moment to type out a few notes about the excursion as Trix loaded the traps into specialized spots in the cargo hold. The traps needed to be secured so that the Koronoks inside wouldn’t be jostled around on the trip home. Well, for Vio it was home, they thought. For the Koronoks, it was a foreign destination and a strange land. 

“Hey, Vio. Can you come here?” 

Vio headed towards the cargo hold. Trix was halfway through securing the traps, but had stopped. “What’s wrong?” they said. 

She motioned for Vio to come closer. “Koronoks eat mushrooms, yeah? I remember reading about their diet before we set out. But what type is this one?”

They peered into the trap. Little crumbles of dried mushroom were scattered around the Koronok. Vio must have overlooked them before, in the stress of being high up in the shaky tree. “Those look like bits of cambershroom. They eat mushrooms, but to my knowledge, not cambershrooms. Actually, I don’t know if these would be safe for them to consume.” 

Trix’s expression grew alarmed. “We have to open the trap and remove them before this guy eats any more—” 

Vio stopped her. “Hold on. I don’t know for certain if that’s what those mushroom bits are. I’m just guessing. And if this critter has already eaten them then there’s not much we can do…” 

Despite her frantic look, Trix listened and seemed to force herself to relax. “Okay. I understand. Sorry, I was a bit hasty there.” 

“It’s alright,” they assured her. “In fact, it makes me happy that you care so much about them. And that everyone on this team does. It makes me feel...” 

Though her tentacles hid her mouth, they could tell from the way her cheeks lifted that Trix was smiling. “Hopeful,” she offered. 

Vio nodded, but their stomach turned. Hope? Is that what they needed?

Suddenly a memory arose in their mind: Dee giving them an intense look as he swiped through their presentation, the sudden seriousness in his voice. Do you truly have hope for these animals? An odd feeling hit them, chilly and cold, like they’d been plunged into a dark ocean of self-doubt. Could they really do it? Could they really save the Koronoks? 

They snapped back to the present as Trix placed a hand on their shoulder. “Are you feeling ok? You look a little dizzy, Vio. Maybe you should sit down and eat something.” 

Vio gulped and nodded. “Yeah, I think that would be good.” 

The two of them finished securing the trapped Koronok and seated themselves at the back of the ship. Trix split a granola bar with them and ate her half with gusto, but Vio only could only manage a few nibbles. They fiddled absently with the granola as crumbs broke off into their paws, picking dried berries out of the fragments. 

Their thoughts turned again to the shriveled mushroom fragments scattered inside the trap. Why would that Koronok have gone after a cambershroom? They were non-native to the forest and not the species’ typical food source. It couldn’t have been the critter’s first choice. Could it have confused the cambershroom for a different mushroom? And the Koronok had seemed unusually agitated. Was it just the trap? Or something else? 

Vio tossed the granola crumbs into their mouth, feeling a wave of fatigue. Between the trek and the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm them, it had been a very long day. Next to them, Trix kicked her feet. “Are you going to send those mushroom parts to ARC for testing?” 

“I think so. Something isn’t right here.” 

Trix made a soft sound in response. She crumpled up the granola bar wrapper. “Um, I’m glad we paired up today. I know I can be a bit slow, so—well, thank you.” she glanced at them. “Do you think you could keep me updated about the Koronok we caught?” 

“Yes, of course!” Vio said before they could properly think about it. Truthfully, they weren’t really sure if that was something they could do. “And you were really great to work with, Trix. Don’t worry. I think we will get answers from ARC soon.” 

They gazed out across the field and saw movement on the horizon. The last team was making their way back. The group was talking amongst themselves, smiling, and one of the volunteers was carrying another trap. As they watched, it occurred to them for the first time that they weren’t alone, and although they were still a long journey away from rest, Vio felt a bit better.

Darkness. Cold and darkness. Wherever the little Koronok was, it was the opposite of its warm, cozy nest. The air was filled with strange, sharp scents that stung its nostrils, filling its senses with a cloud of different, overwhelming smells. But worst of all, beneath its paws, the ground was vibrating and humming. 

The Koronok had no way of knowing that the sounds were just a normal part of the ship’s flight. With each minute that passed, its anxiety rose. It skittered to one corner of the trap and then to another, fruitlessly attempting to bite and scratch anything it could get leverage on. Finding no progress there, it began to desperately slam its body against the walls.

But the Koronok’s claws and teeth were too little, and its thin body was too light. Not even a dent was left in the trap. All it managed to do was wear itself out. Eventually it staggered to a corner. Trembling slightly, it curled up there, tucking its head under its bushy tail and covering its eyes with a paw. Exhaustion was sinking into the tiny animal’s body, an exhaustion that was quickly luring it to sleep. 

As the Koronok lay there, half-asleep and half-awake, in its mind surfaced an image of its home: tall redwood forest that spanned hundreds of kilometers, more than one Koronok could ever explore in a lifetime. Unbidden, dreams then came to it, memories of its kithood. Navigating clumsily through the branches, clinging onto the bark and looking down at the dizzying drop to the forest floor. The eager chirps of its siblings as they wrestled and played. And its mother: her soothing scent, the comfort and security and all-encompassing satisfaction that came from curling up at her side. 

The seasons changed. The Koronok’s mother taught it and its siblings to hunt, to climb, to effortlessly race up and down the tree trunks. The Koronok kits grew bigger, stronger. A curious thing happened as well: when the young Koronok looked at the trees and forest, it no longer felt fear. Instead it saw a bountiful world of food and adventure. 

The Koronok’s mother licked its face and groomed its pelt, squeaking affectionately. But the scent of her fur no longer held the same blissful contentment that it once did. There was something stronger calling the young Koronok now, something deeper than mere thought or  feeling, an impulse as old as life itself. One day the young Koronok strayed from its mother’s nest and never returned. 

More memories came to it now: the time it found a warm nesting spot just before the rains came, the time it had located a particularly good spot for affocato and the bliss that came from a full stomach. It remembered running alongside its mate, the two of them hopping over one another as they raced across the ground in a blur. Half-asleep, the Koronok’s paws kicked out restlessly against the smooth floor of the trap. It could practically smell the scent of her warm, nutty fur.

The Koronok’s stomach gurgled uncomfortably. One more memory came to it before it sank into slumber: one unusual night, its mate had returned with an unfamiliar scent surrounding her and strange spores clinging to her pelt. Seeming tired, she’d struggled to get into their nest inside the tree hollow. As the Koronok padded over to sniff at her in concern, her claws slipped and she fell. 

The Koronok didn’t quite understand what had happened, but since that night, it had slept alone.

After days of fruitless research, Dee received a rare positive update from Vio: it appeared that the Rangers had finally made some headway in finding the cause of the Koronok population's decline. Poisoning due to new and unsuitable food sources? It sounded likely to Dee, although he would need to run further tests before confirming that was the case. 

This wouldn’t be the first time, he thought grimly as he reread the message to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Two cycles ago, an unpleasant situation had occurred on Harbor: the introduction of a few invasive mushroom species had wreaked havoc on the native fauna. Some of the effects were so severe and infectious that it had even affected Xeros, who typically had enough natural resistance to such things. ARC had immediately begun efforts to eradicate the invasive species, but even they could not stop the mushrooms from spreading, so their plans had shifted to damage mitigation. To think that something like this was happening again…it was troubling, to say the least. 

Vio had mentioned that remnants of fungi had been discovered in a recently retrieved trap—likely the poisoned Koronok had been bringing back food to cache for the winter when it was captured. Dee and his team could theoretically synthesize an antitoxin. If that didn’t outright cure the Koronoks, it could at least slow the damage, giving the animals time to heal. But to do that, they’d need to determine what species of mushroom was causing the problem.

Dee stepped into a prep room, donning four long gloves—one for each paw—and a mask before entering the loading room. Here, each Koronok was tagged and checked over before it was admitted as an in-patient. 

Two Korso waited nearby with clipboards and various measuring tools. On the examination table was a cage trap with a Koronok inside. “Dee, you've arrived,” one of the Korsos greeted. “Upon your request, we have not opened this trap yet.” 

Dee placed a hand on the cage before peeking in. Inside, the Koronok was curled up in the corner. It didn’t react to the sounds around it, or to Dee’s presence. It was so still that for an unpleasant moment, Dee thought it might be dead. Then he noticed its small chest slowly rising and falling. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, it’s still with us.” 

Dee backed away from the cage and turned to the two Korsos. Both were taller than he was, but they practically stood to attention when he laid his eyes on them, listening raptly. “I’d like a full diagnostic report on this one. Quarantine it from the others and do not provide it with food for the next 36 hours. Collect any scat samples.” 

The Korso scientists nodded, scribbling down notes. Dee unlocked the cage. But as soon as the panel swung open, the Koronok twitched and suddenly uncurled. In a burst of startling speed, it attempted to scramble away, but Dee was quicker and he carefully pinned it down by the neck. The Koronok hissed, turning its body this way and that in impressive corkscrews. It managed to bite down on the thumb of Dee’s glove and held on determinedly. 

Unbothered, Dee quickly collected the samples needed. There were still some scraps of mushroom in the trap and he handed those off to the Korso scientists to take to the lab. Then he gently but firmly grabbed the Koronok by its back legs and stretched it out on the table to quickly measure it. The animal did not enjoy this process and complained vocally. “About 385 millimeters,” Dee said. “I will leave it to you two to weigh it later.” There was only so much he wanted to stress an animal in one sitting. 

Then he held the Koronok in place and gently covered its head with one paw. One Korso came closer, carrying a small needle and syringe. As they prepared the injection, Dee stabilized the rest of the Koronok’s body. Although he was not prone to such thoughts, he found himself wondering what thoughts were going through the small animal’s head. “Be careful not to aim too high,” he told the Korso. The muscle is small. You’ll miss it.” 

Shortly after the needle had been removed, the Koronok’s body slowly went limp as the sedative took hold. Absently, Dee petted its fur.

“That should make things a little easier for us,” commented the Korso.

“And much less stressful for the specimen.” Dee said. As the Koronok laid on the table in a stupor, he took a moment to re-examine it. A few more notes were recorded: its sex, approximate age, and fur color. White fur, he noted. Unusual. 

The unconscious Koronok was taken away. Dee turned to walk out and put a smile on his face. “Thank you both for your help.” 

It was an awkward and slightly forced expression, but after years of working with him, both Korso knew he was doing his best to be genuine. “We’ll keep you updated, Dee.”