145. Big Folks And Little Folks

The reader tablet slipped from Stroth’s suddenly weak grasp onto the table with a clatter, the abrupt sound ringing out in the almost deserted prefabricated cafeteria of the New Barath outpost. Her face paled in shock.

Opposite her, Tren Krellos barely paused between mouthfuls of purple stew to ask, “What happened?”

Meeting his gaze, Stroth explained what she had just read, voice unsteady: “We’re at war. The Queils and the Coreworlds are going to war.”

“Huh,” the bounty hunter responded gruffly, already taking another spoonful. “Sucks for them, I guess. This your fault, too?”

Blindsided by the man’s bluntness, Stroth could only stammer back, “N-no, but—”

“Then don’t worry about it,” Krellos pressed, laminate armour plating creaking slightly as he shrugged his broad shoulders. “Besides, while the big folks are goin’ to war, I doubt they’ll notice two little folks sneakin’ past.” Stroth nodded slowly, unconvinced, as her companion added, “Speakin’ of which…”

Forcing her thoughts back to the present moment, the ex-Curator asked, “How long do you think we have?”

Krellos checked his wristwatch. “If the staff here sent out a bounty alert when we touched down, the local mooks should be showin’ up any minute…”

As if on cue, they heard heavy boots clanking down the hallway toward the cafeteria at a rapid pace. At Krellos’ shouting “Now!”, the two travellers stood and began to bolt for the opposite side of the room, to the doorway that would lead to the hangar and a brief respite from danger.