the skin from a vegetable with his oversized combat knife.
“Quanca Angkelm,” Teftek cussed as the white noise chattered against his open ears. “The only stuigen gut-sucker that could boost this thing - why did Pojlim have to go off and get himself killed!” Teftek looked at the listener with his brows furrowed, and exhaled in exasperation. “Make this work,” Teftek ordered, shoving the listener toward Aljefta.
“Ah, come on, Captain,” Aljefta complained, his shoulders shrugging and his hands reflexively putting down the knife and vegetable.
“Just try, okay?!” Teftek pushed it into Aljefta’s now empty hands and walked away from the gathering of soldiers huddled around their morning fire. Dawn hadn’t entirely broken the ridge yet, and Teftek was giving Inlojem the courtesy of time in order to rouse the female Necrologist. Now there’s two of them , he thought indignantly as he placed his butt down on a cracked, rotting log and stared into the gray nothingness of the rolling fog. He tore some y’Yoz root and stuffed it into his mouth, the tingly feeling assaulting his gums quite suddenly before his body hesitantly relaxed. It hadn’t been five days, but Teftek was under too much duress to care.
“I know a secret,” a child’s voice announced from behind him. Teftek’s head slowly turned, anxiety creeping right back up his neck. He realized it wasn’t an alien with a child’s body dangling from a tentacle - it was just Iogi.
“What...what do you want?” Teftek answered, turning his body.
“I know a secret,” Iogi repeated.
“Let me guess - I’m the Death Priest,” Teftek crowed halfheartedly .
“Nooo…” Iogi teased, his body swaying in the fashion of a little child. Teftek also swayed back and forth a little, gnawing on the y’Yoz root, sucking the juice out of its porous structure as it rolled between his teeth. He spat across the wet dirt and turned his narrow gray eyes toward the child.
“Yeah, alright - tell me your secret,” Teftek surrendered.
“Um- um,” the child chortled, in a fit, “you’re a believer!”
“Hah!” Teftek scoffed, getting up and spitting his y’Yoz root on the ground. “Yeah right, kid,” he said as he rubbed his hand roughly over the child’s barbed red hair, walking away.
“Yeah right kid! It is right, kid!” said Iogi with excitement. “I know because one time...um...one time when you were a little boy...um…there was this guy who told you that one day the world would end, and you didn’t believe him!” It stopped the young captain in his tracks, his thick rubber soles scrapping to a halt in the grimy gravel. His head turned eighty degrees and forced his body along with it as he listened to the child with sudden zeal. “And you said ‘you’re a stupid old Necrologist’ and then... and then you threw a rock at him and it hurt him, and then he grabbed you, but then someone shot him and you looked at him and you felt really bad, and you thought you’d never believe, but he mentioned the red people and I know...“
“Shut up,” Teftek stated curtly. “Now. Go back into the tent.” Iogi stared at Teftek for a moment. “GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” Teftek barked at him. The child sprinted and fumbled clumsily through the tent flap like a Quwarki skiff-runner through a narrow canyon, and cuddled up against Inlojem’s knee. Teftek stared at the tent and then turned his gaze toward his own hand, which shook almost uncontrollably with fear. He gripped it and turned away from his staring soldiers.
He looked at Aljefta, who had witnessed the exchange. In his hands was the listener receiving some scratchy communications. Teftek stood in the same place, riddled with shock as everyone gathered around toward Aljefta when he turned up the listener. They could make out a Qol news program. There was a reporter on the ground.
“It’s entering low atmosphere right now, over the Juldji District. DGS is telling us to stay calm- they’re still
“Quanca Angkelm,” Teftek cussed as the white noise chattered against his open ears. “The only stuigen gut-sucker that could boost this thing - why did Pojlim have to go off and get himself killed!” Teftek looked at the listener with his brows furrowed, and exhaled in exasperation. “Make this work,” Teftek ordered, shoving the listener toward Aljefta.
“Ah, come on, Captain,” Aljefta complained, his shoulders shrugging and his hands reflexively putting down the knife and vegetable.
“Just try, okay?!” Teftek pushed it into Aljefta’s now empty hands and walked away from the gathering of soldiers huddled around their morning fire. Dawn hadn’t entirely broken the ridge yet, and Teftek was giving Inlojem the courtesy of time in order to rouse the female Necrologist. Now there’s two of them , he thought indignantly as he placed his butt down on a cracked, rotting log and stared into the gray nothingness of the rolling fog. He tore some y’Yoz root and stuffed it into his mouth, the tingly feeling assaulting his gums quite suddenly before his body hesitantly relaxed. It hadn’t been five days, but Teftek was under too much duress to care.
“I know a secret,” a child’s voice announced from behind him. Teftek’s head slowly turned, anxiety creeping right back up his neck. He realized it wasn’t an alien with a child’s body dangling from a tentacle - it was just Iogi.
“What...what do you want?” Teftek answered, turning his body.
“I know a secret,” Iogi repeated.
“Let me guess - I’m the Death Priest,” Teftek crowed halfheartedly .
“Nooo…” Iogi teased, his body swaying in the fashion of a little child. Teftek also swayed back and forth a little, gnawing on the y’Yoz root, sucking the juice out of its porous structure as it rolled between his teeth. He spat across the wet dirt and turned his narrow gray eyes toward the child.
“Yeah, alright - tell me your secret,” Teftek surrendered.
“Um- um,” the child chortled, in a fit, “you’re a believer!”
“Hah!” Teftek scoffed, getting up and spitting his y’Yoz root on the ground. “Yeah right, kid,” he said as he rubbed his hand roughly over the child’s barbed red hair, walking away.
“Yeah right kid! It is right, kid!” said Iogi with excitement. “I know because one time...um...one time when you were a little boy...um…there was this guy who told you that one day the world would end, and you didn’t believe him!” It stopped the young captain in his tracks, his thick rubber soles scrapping to a halt in the grimy gravel. His head turned eighty degrees and forced his body along with it as he listened to the child with sudden zeal. “And you said ‘you’re a stupid old Necrologist’ and then... and then you threw a rock at him and it hurt him, and then he grabbed you, but then someone shot him and you looked at him and you felt really bad, and you thought you’d never believe, but he mentioned the red people and I know...“
“Shut up,” Teftek stated curtly. “Now. Go back into the tent.” Iogi stared at Teftek for a moment. “GO! GET OUT OF HERE!” Teftek barked at him. The child sprinted and fumbled clumsily through the tent flap like a Quwarki skiff-runner through a narrow canyon, and cuddled up against Inlojem’s knee. Teftek stared at the tent and then turned his gaze toward his own hand, which shook almost uncontrollably with fear. He gripped it and turned away from his staring soldiers.
He looked at Aljefta, who had witnessed the exchange. In his hands was the listener receiving some scratchy communications. Teftek stood in the same place, riddled with shock as everyone gathered around toward Aljefta when he turned up the listener. They could make out a Qol news program. There was a reporter on the ground.
“It’s entering low atmosphere right now, over the Juldji District. DGS is telling us to stay calm- they’re still
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