Rando Splicer by Joel Shepherd

Author:Joel Shepherd [Shepherd, Joel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-31T06:00:00+00:00

There was nothing in the cramped kitchen again, save for some of the dry bread rolls the croma liked, but Tiga hated. She searched storage units and clambered on the bench to get at the high ones, but there was no fruit, not even dried fruit, and no meat save for the processed crap in the rolls, and Skah’s supply of various tasty meats. She couldn’t touch that, though, because then Skah would have nothing. She was trying to save her personal corner of the galaxy, surely someone could at least make an effort to keep food in the kitchen?

Tiga took a roll, grumpily, and retreated back up the narrow corridor to her little room. The air in the trailer was stifling, the ventilation turned way down now that they’d stopped and most of the crew were outside in the evening. A brief check of coms revealed a number of them enjoying the sunset, and others given permission to wander in groups through the camp. Despite events with Do’reg, the Captain didn’t seem to think they were in immediate danger, and was out doing interviews with croma media — him and Do’reg, the oddest couple to have appeared on Dul’rho screens for many years. One articulate and smart, the other croma, and carrying a hammer. Fittingly.

Tiga clambered back up to her bunk once more, amid display screens, AR glasses and the portable holographics unit she’d borrowed from the ranch, but forgotten who it belonged to. Her backside ached, and she desperately needed fresh air… but out there in the air were more croma than she could deal with right now. And Skah, who wasn’t talking to her… nor she him, she supposed. And then it made her sad, and she just stared at the ceiling for several long moments, trying to think on the terrible events of the defence of Rando all those centuries ago that had dominated her brain for the past three months. If she went outside she’d be neglecting this, too — potentially the salvation of her people, at least if what the Captain said of Sho’mo’ra’s intentions were true. Which she doubted, but she had to try.

But suddenly that was just an excuse, and she knew it. Neglecting her monumental duties wasn’t the reason she was sad. She was sad because she was miserable, stuck in this little room after previously being stuck in a library, with literally all the weight of her world on her shoulders. Worst of all, she was thinking of Do’Ran and her parents, which she’d sworn she’d never do once she’d left, because that way lay doom. She’d hated the pretty green cage on Do’Ran that the Croma’Dokran had forced her to live in, but now she could only think of evenings spent reading before the log fire in her parent’s apartment, and her father’s cooking, and her mother’s conversations while knitting the long winter scarves she was so good at, and riding her chu out across the reservation lands, and

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