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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Ancalagon - 104. Chapter 104

“No one else has the resources they have or stand to lose what the Kardoval do. So, yes, he does need help. He’s been betrayed, attacked, and someone has to be holding him or he’d have tracked us down instead of you. Now let’s go. We have plans to make.”

Timok looked about as put out as he ever had, and I took a small amount of pleasure in that. But now that I was going to let him help us, he needed to get to it. Ases snorted. “Meet Mr. Bossy.”

“Now is not the time for jokes.”

“I’m not joking,” he retorted. He looked at Timok. “I don’t know you, really, but he becomes a terror when he’s on a mission. And I know that face. I don’t know what Garjah told you to do, but Essell will do whatever it takes to go save him if that’s what he decided has to happen. Look how he ended up here with four arms and mated to an alien, after creating first contact and helping negotiate an alliance with extremely favorable terms for your people.”

Timok folded his thin lips together, then inclined his head. “You do make a point. Not every idiot can crash a ship on a planet already being claimed by another species.”

“Hey! You guys stayed hidden on purpose. How was I supposed to know?” I would have continued to get angry, but Timok turned around and started walking away. “Where are you going?”

“To save Garjah. Isn’t that what you told me we had to do?”

I deflated. “Oh. Yeah.” I hustled after him, Bouncer keeping right beside me this time instead of ranging around in the trees. “Do you have a transport close by?”

Timok nodded. “A small one. We should be able to fit, but it’ll be tight.”

 

He was right. The transport was a tiny two-seater, so it was a good thing that Ases and I weren’t as big as they were. We both fit, barely, on the back seat but there was no room to secure any webbing around us in case of a crash. We’d just have to hope being wedged in would keep us in place.

Besides, Bouncer was literally draped across Ases and my laps. It was a good thing neither one of us were afraid of him. Timok said he wasn’t, but the way Bouncer flicked his ears and kept inching his muzzle closer to him and then away when Timok’s shoulders hunched made me think he was doing it on purpose to make the doctor flinch. That made the tiny transport dip, which made my stomach dip, so I flicked one of his ears. “Stop it.”

Bouncer rumbled, his chest vibrating against my legs.

“Intolerable beast.”

At that Bouncer went so far as to open his mouth and huff warm air right on the back of Timok’s neck. “Argh.” Timok made a sound deep in his throat and leaned forward. “Would you make him stop that?”

“Don’t say things that make him upset.” I managed to free one arm from where it was trapped against the wall of the transport and rubbed Bouncer’s head. “He’s sensitive.”

“Sensitive,” Timok muttered. He said a few other things, but they were under his breath, and I couldn’t make out what he was saying even as close as we were.

“Where are you taking us?” Ases had been quiet up till now, and I knew that meant he’d actually been thinking.

“If Essell is right about the Kardoval being behind the attack, then the only people who can help you are the rebels. The thing is, Garjah is also the one who knows how to contact them. I was thinking we should try to find Seedrah to see if he ever told him—”

“I know!” I said in a rush. “I know how to contact them.”

Timok craned his head around. “How?”

“We have to go the Dytokshun market, and there’s a signal. A phrase you have to say while you buy acoji nuts and a skin of tuber milk.”

“Well, I hope you’re comfortable. That’s going to take a while.” Timok poured on the speed, and I closed my eyes, my hand still resting on Bouncer. I tried not to think about what could be happening to Garjah right then, but I was scared for him. He needed my help, and I would stop at nothing to save him.

Even drink that nasty tuber milk again.

 

“We’re here.”

I’d fallen asleep. Exhaustion had made that inevitable, despite how uncomfortable it was in the tiny transport. My legs were dead asleep, and I could barely hobble out of the transport even leaning on Bouncer. “How are you not a cripple?” I asked Ases. He was moving fine.

Ases shrugged. “More flexible joints?”

Timok tapped a button on his comm and the transport beeped. “We should move away from this, just in case it’s been tagged. I don’t think I’ve been tracked, but we need to keep moving.”

Right. “Okay, so we need to find a nut-seller.”

Thank goodness Timok was with us because not only did I not have a cred-stick on me, I had no idea what the different signs meant. He was able to lead us to one, the same one I’d been in before. The name on the sign said Cheisumn, and she smiled. “Oh, if it isn’t the foreigner and his beastie, and bringing another new friend from off world as well. What can I do for you?”

“We’d like some nuts and milk, please.”

Her eyebrows rose, and she glanced at Timok but then nodded. “Come with me.” This time her shop was empty, but she still asked us to take a seat. Instead of a skin, she passed out cups then disappeared into the back. A man appeared in the doorway she’d gone into.

Time to drink and lie, then make the rebels help me. They had to, or their cause would die too.

Copyright © 2020 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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