Shaundar and Yathar stood with Sylria on Queenie’s Castle Deck, smoking cigars together. They’d stopped smoking pipes because it was just too time consuming to load and light, and a waste of perfectly good tobacco if they were suddenly called into action, which happened more and more frequently. The cigars were cheap and slightly sour – the best they could generally do on their Lieutenant’s pay – but Shaundar was becoming almost affectionately attached to them.
Supply lines were becoming more strained, too. Occasionally, the alu’quesst ration was being supplemented with the human creation of grog. Shaundar was not fond of it and generally chose not to have his allotted taut when that was what was available. But he didn’t complain. Nobody did. That was just what there was.
They were in orbit around the Karpri space station, along with the burnt-out hulks of a Scorpion and an Ogre Mammoth…
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