It was a success.
After pleading my case and sharing everything I knew about the devastation on Thelek, the humans finally agreed to help.
Now, as our ship descended toward my home planet, I held tightly to large bags of fertilizer—the key to restoring life to our barren fields. The smell of metal and recycled air filled the cabin, but my heart felt light for the first time in years.
"Is that enough, kid?" the human president asked, his eyes warm but tired.
"Does your planet have any other problems?"
"Nope," I replied, my voice steady with relief. "Thank you for all your help. Truly. The people of Thelek will never forget this."
The man smiled—a gentle, kind smile that made me feel like everything might really be okay.
"No problem," he said, chuckling. "The Sandeth are a real pain in the ass. We love nothing more than helping out our fellow… uh… galaxy-mates recover from their bullshit."
His humor caught me off guard, and I laughed—a deep, hearty laugh that burst from my chest.
It was the first time I'd laughed in years. It felt… amazing.
"Thanks so much, hahahaha!" I said, joy breaking free like a river after a drought.
Just then, out of nowhere, my mother appeared at the doorway of our small, battered house.
She threw her arms around me and hugged me so tightly I thought one of my ribs might break.
"Oh, sweetie! My little Orky! You came home! Momma is so happy!"
A wave of nausea rolled over me at the vile nickname.
"Don't. Ever. Call. Me. That," I said firmly, pulling back just enough to look her in the eye.
She stared at me like I was a confused puppy.
"But you are my little Orky!" she said with a crooked smile.
I sighed and shook my head, but deep inside, I knew I was finally home.