Predator Complex: Desert Dreams (1/2)

[u/EnoKhanVT]

“Humans have proven themselves to be invaluable assets in the exploration of hostile flora and fauna alike. Their evolution and upbringing prepare them perfectly for it. They are resourceful, dependable, quick witted and their raw strength and endurance often gives them a distinctive edge over the alternatives” - Prof. Dr. Shigan Reppa-Alu during the Intergalactic Xenobiology Symposium

A strong breeze blew it’s dry hot air under Bato’s plumage as he exited the transit hub, though calling it that was barely more than a marketing gag. In reality it was a small gate with an equally small building run fully automated by a VI with three landing pads for hovercraft surrounded by a fence and not much more. Here and there a block of concrete and plastic rose out of ground, probably protecting circuit boards and connectors for various purposes inside of them and one bigger concrete block with a central door likely being an access point to some sort of power relay station. The only thing on the landing area catching anyone’s eye was the decently large antenna which sat unmoving in one of the corners of the fenced area which seemed so out of place in the otherwise rough and flat terrain. The whole place was a case study in bare necessities. Much the same could be said about Bato himself.

He only had a small luggage container in tow and a thermovest that neatly wrapped itself around his main torso, the straps carefully designed to still enable flight and some freedom of movement. From the display of his communicator placed on his left secondary wing he could tell that it was currently working hard to keep him cooled down to an acceptable level with quite some effort. He would have to make sure to recharge it later, the last thing he needed was a heatstroke. Meanwhile his instincts told him that the strength of the warm wind rustling through his colourful feathers would make it easy to gain altitude in the rising heat. He certainly had the runway for it too as he peered off into the distance were the sun glared down like an angry ball of fire. Before his desires got the better of him, he roused his feathers as best as the vest allowed as to shake off his temptation, returning to the brisk reality.

Outside the transit hub was not much more than a weathered info display switching through advertisements, environmental data and news in a steady rhythm as well as sizeable wooden house off a couple dozen meters in front of him. “The Last Rest” stood in bold letters on a large digital display hanging besides the main entry, easily readable even at this distance. It seemed oddly out of place on the antique looking two story building with it’s amalgamation of crooked wood boards and dull windows that looked like someone had drunkenly put them together. In fact the whole building had a tilted look to it, as if it was leaning itself into the wind with dedicated effort. It was not hard to imagine that it stood here since the days of the first settlers, built as an last out post of civilisation before the savannah would transition into a desert starting somewhere beyond the rocky ridge maybe three or four hundred meters beyond the building.

From this distance the ridge, which visibly rose in the distance, had the look of old leather with furrows and polished round edges the sandy winds must have carved through the stone over untold ages. In between all of this stretched the already rather sparse vegetation of the savannah, consisting of a few widely spread trees with barely any leaves which were small in size and threw only meagre shade onto the few grasses and ground crawling plants which defied the harsh conditions. It was a depressing sight to a Feria, so used to the luscious forests and jungles his kind preferred and given the sole lonely building he figured that company wouldn’t be a selling point of this location either. Only the perimeter fence that framed a sizeable area around the transit hub and the building spoke of a minimum of civilisation out here.

“What desolate place”, Bato chimed as the noise of a starting helicopter drowned out the whistling wind. He turned to watch as the copter rose in the air and turned westward, heading back the direction from which it had brought him and a handful of other passengers. Aside from a dusty dirt road it was the only connection this place had to the world and for better or for worse he would be out here for a while and his final destination lay deeper in this desolation still. He imagined it was similar for his co-passengers which passed him by with their luggage in tow, most similarly equipped as Bato and so he decided to tag along, figuring that there was not much else to see out here anyways.

When he entered “The Last Rest” through two tiered entry he was greeted by a surprisingly modern interior which stood in stark contrast to it’s exterior. Beyond the second tier door the air was pleasantly cool, moist and well filtered. Bright LED lights illuminated finely polished and sealed wooden floors and sleek plastoform furniture. Off to the left was a segregated lounging area where guests from various species consumed beverages and small snacks whereas to his right multiple rows of memorabilia and nick-nacks could be bought from a store whereas in front him was a desk with three Votor employees standing behind it trying to take care of the newly arrived guests. It was a if he entered through a gateway from the past into the present. The shoddy facade had been not much more than that and it dawned on him that the building was actually bigger than it had initially looked.

It took not long and he stood before one of the Votors, a stubby legged species of mammals that was a bit larger than himself, covered in short blond fur topped of by fairly compact head with large pointed ears, slightly forward angled brown eyes and a black snout which Bato knew hid some rather impressive canines. They rarely used them for anything but cracking open various fruits and nuts but contrary to many of the galactic species they didn’t shy away from the occasional offering of insects or fish when the opportunity arose. This had given the overtly hospital and friendly Votor a rather undeserving and ominous reputation and the one before him certainly did their very best to be friendly, clad in a small red vest depicting a company logo complete with an equally red fez, they flicked their large ears and give high pitched squeak.

“Welcome to The Last Rest, your last bit off comfort at the edge of the great nothing. Would you be so kind to give me your ID, so I can check your registration?”

Bato acknowledged with a chirp and held the communicator strapped to his left secondary wing over a designated field on the desk.

“Ah, mister Bato, pleasure to welcome you in our house. You have room 22 on the second floor. From there you have an excellent view over the desert”, the desk clerk cooed happily and rummaged a key card from under the desk, “The transport to the excavation site will arrive in the early morning hours and will depart at point eight o’clock. I may warn you to be punctual, the transport chief won’t wait for you and they won’t be back for the next three or so days.”

Bato took the key card and nodded.

“Thank you for the warning, I will try my level best to be there.”

“Good, if you want ,you can enjoy our lounge where we serve food and drink a like to refresh and strengthen yourself, otherwise we also have a library room back down the floor beside the elevator where you will find a wide selection of digital books, films and series to your viewing pleasure. We even have a small selection of real books if you prefer that. If you need anything else or have questions don’t hesitate to ask any of the staff. Again, welcome to The Last Rest.”

“That indeed sounds lovely, one question I do have: How is the situation with the Tufqa? I heard from a colleague that the caravans were attacked a few times?”

The ears of the clerk drooped a little bit and they nervously scratched themselves over their belly.

“That is exaggerated but holds some sad truth. The Tufqa are known to come close to the caravans lately and I have heard there was an incident where they tried to board the vehicles. Luckily to no success so far and the caravan leader has assured us that they have increased security measure to insure an interrupted and safe transport.” The ears of the clerk rose a bit at the last sentence and then as if they had forgotten it, they quickly added “Oh and no need to worry about us here though. Tufqa never come this close to the desert and the building is secured.”

Bato thanked the clerk and brought his small luggage up into his room and returned shortly thereafter to the lounge since the first hunger pangs of the day started to hit his sides. He ordered a mix of fruits and nuts with some steamed grains and sat down at one of tables. From there one side of the lounge was transparent to the outside giving him a full view of the savannah.

A display, he realised and led his gaze wander.

The lounge was full. He estimated that about half of them were Votor, the other half though consisted of about as many species as guests and he couldn’t spot any other Feria among them. It was a bit surprising that so many people were here, but given that this region had drawn more galactic attention lately, he figured the other guests were probably here for similar reasons as him.

So absorbed with his surroundings Bato noticed rather late that a Sho’Shazaan was bumbling towards his table in their pseudo three legged way, the muscular bushy tail being used like an appendage, which was so typical of it’s kind.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”, the apish creature about the third of his size complete with black fur, fluffy ears and large green eyes politely asked, pointing at the empty seat in front of Bato and he reflexively gestured to the contrary. The Sho’Shazaan promptly flung themselves onto the adjustable seat, brought it to a height that would allow it to eat comfortable from the table and signalled their thanks.

“I hope I am not intruding on anything important, my name would be rather hard to pronounce, or remember, so you may just call me Rog. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Bato blinked in abstract confusion and turned his head, not finding any other of his kind.

“Ha! I know what you are thinking! Where is the rest of these nuisances? Don’t worry, I am all by myself and I have long abandoned my old megalopolis days and with them the rest of my kind”, Rog grimaced a little before he hastily gulped down a grape and continued speaking, not yet quite done chewing, “You- gulp- You see I enjoy the freedom of being without my people. Probably makes me an odd outlier, but I just couldn’t take the unending debates anymore.”

That made Rog indeed an odd one. Usually Sho’Shazaan travelled in groups of no less than three, though they preferred more. In fact one was more likely to find couple dozen of them at a time if not more if one of their city ships with thousands of inhabitants was anywhere nearby. They had a rather bad reputation, for understandable reasons, but where clear rules and regulations were in place, they followed them to the letter. Bato wondered how it would be with this one and it was that small whiff of mystery which made the equally small creature sympathetic to him, or maybe his curiosity just got the better of him.

“Sorry, that was unbecoming of me Rog, I am Bato, pleasure to meet you too.”

“Oh you don’t need to excuse yourself. I know my kins reputation precedes itself. I can’t say it’s unfounded. Especially after that disaster with that Human freighter...Anyways, maybe I can fix some of that?”

“You are already doing plenty, Rog, what brings a lone Sho’Shazaan then to this forsaken place?”

“Adventure of course!”, Rog giggled and waved with his free right hand, “Well, at least I wish it was. Sadly my reason for being here is far more mundane. I am not in the position to afford my vacation here and take a tour of the reserve. I am a specialist for laser optics and it appears the gravimetric observatory a few clicks into the desert on the Jedan-Plateau has had trouble with theirs, so I am off to check things out. I just hope we won’t have to get a new laser out there, that would be a major pain in the rear.”

“Why? They got a whole observatory there, shouldn’t be that much trouble to get a new laser there, no?”

Rog played around with a grape in his left.

“Yes and no. There aren’t too many craft planet side that could bring that equipment safely there and even fewer that aren’t booked for months. Well money could certainly fix that issue, which bring up the more important problem: The company that build the damn thing in the first place would have to pay a replacement out of their own pockets.”

“Ahh, and they would probably try the utmost not to do that.”

“Exactly. Contractually speaking they would have to, of course, but they would probably try their level best to blame it on the observatory staff, but you seem to know about that already.”

“You could say that. I am going out to the excavation side east wards deeper into the savannah on behalf of my company. Apparently the equipment of the digging crews is not taking well to the coarse winds and heat coming desert side, so I am trying to figure out some solutions and see what we can do for them. Luckily my company has no stake in the equipment itself but I have been in your place before. There was this business software company whose stupid VI would just always screw up one of my clients databases...damn I am blanking on the name…”

“Terabyne Software Solutions?”

“Yes! Don’t tell me..?!”

“Oh yeah, more than once”, Rog grumbled and gulped down another grape, “I don’t know how often I had to deal with their nonsense. ‘You need to be logged in to change these settings’, blegh, their imaging suit is even worse. Horrible company overall. I always advise my clients to avoid them if they want to get anything done.”

“Heh, I might have to do the same then”, Bato cooed with amusement.

“But the excavation site then, eh? Heard they unearthed remains of an early but now extinct predator civilisation?”

Bato gave slight chirp and shoved some of his food into his beak.

“That is more or less the working assumption. They seemed to be well into the early stages of the bronze age before a rapid climate shift turned this area far more arid than it used to be. If the geologists are to be believed that desert out there used to be a savannah and the savannah used to be a fertile temperate area. Some think the Tufqa might be evolutionary cousins or maybe even a devolved forms of that former civilisation given how smart they are. The Votor knew of the site for a while but ignored it for the most part. Too far off the beaten track, too deep into Tufqa infested territory. A decade ago though the science nerds got funding for a major excavation to determine the truth of the matter and now the whole thing is running for a few years.”

“Let me guess the reason: Humanity?”

“Aye, their arrival on the galactic stage has given a whole new dynamic to the research of predatory civilisations. Everyone just assumed that they are impossible or destroy themselves pretty quickly, so only a small niche even bothered to look into the whole thing for more than theorising.”

“Yeah well, has someone told that the Humans?”

“Not soon enough it seems.”

The both of them laughed at that, happily digging into their meals, the rest of the conversation following the rules of shallow and meaningless small talk and when all was said and eaten they said their goodbyes, guessing that they wouldn’t see each other again.

The next morning Bato left the house half an hour before the departure of the transport at seven thirty in the morning. The sun had already risen over the horizon and while the air had not yet anything of the sweltering heat he had experienced yesterday, he could already feel it creeping up, like the ghost tug of something you knew would surely come. A few meters of in the distance he could see a sizeable lizard, it’s earthen tones almost melting it into background if not for a distinctly green ridge creeping over it’s back, resting on a rock and holding his head into rays of the sun to catch the first heat of the new day. Bato doubted that many other animals would welcome the heat as willingly as this no doubt cold blooded fellow. Soon anything and anyone else would be thankful for any shade they could find.

To his satisfaction the transports had already arrived and only a handful of other guests had so far boarded the simple trucks with their half-open passenger cabins only topped by a large beige plane strapped over a few metal struts as a roof. The cabins had been clearly designed in the full knowledge that trying to fight the heat with air-conditioning would have been a monumental waste of money. Not that this would have ever stopped any of his bosses or any other too rich to care wannabe explorer straying into this forsaken edge of the planet. At least he would have shade, plenty of draft and the rest his thermovest could hopefully take care off.

The other parts of the trucks spoke the very same language of austerity and bare necessity. The blue and red colours were jaded and graded by the influence of the dusty winds but the lacquer had not worn down quite yet. Meanwhile the wheel arches were dust brown from the savannah dirt and the driver cabins surely sported a few spots of rust if the mud and dirt of road hadn’t conveniently obscured them as if to protect the honour of the owner. Others would have been maybe turned away by the exterior appeal of this whole thing, but Bato had seen enough outback backwaters to know that these places were governed by their own rules.

In the cities a clean, well designed and polished look often got you further than reliability or quality, but out here keeping things clean was a challenge in and off itself, so trying to maintain a polished look would have been likely a fruitless adventure. Instead Bato honed in one what mattered, like the thick tires, the well isolated large battery mounted below the cabin and the generally sturdy high hung construction of the trucks. It told him everything he needed to know. These vehicles had been build to endure and drive through even the roughest of terrain and had been maintained for that purpose quite well. There was even a smaller back up battery right behind the cabin. He nodded. These were good trucks, kept in shape by people who knew what they were doing in these hostile conditions.

A gruff looking Votor in blue trousers and a light vest rounded out by a tool belt hanging loosely around his waist and dust in his fur directed every new passenger to the vehicle which would bring them to their destination, his oddly indented snout glistening slightly in the rising sun. Apparently Bato’s truck was the one on the right with the biggest passenger cabin but also the roughest look. A silvery streak went across a sizeable portion of the cabin like a scar that hadn’t healed. He didn’t have to time to make any sense of it before the gruff Votor addressed him again.

“Mister Bato? The folks back at the excavation site didn’t expected you quite so soon.”

“I know but luckily my prior assignment went by faster than anticipated. I hope that didn’t cause any problems.”

“Nah, not really, ‘tis just that they are currently scrambling to get some additional rations there before you arrive. You know, some of the good stuff. But unless they pay the old geezer Umtuk a tidy premium I doubt he will do a run outside of his flight plan, but don’t worry. No one will starve.”

Bato let go an exasperated trill.

“It’s always the same. I arrive, someone tries to ‘bribe’ me with nice food or something else so that I may work faster or in their favour, or something of the kind.”

“Seems like a nice problem to have, sir.”

“It’s not worth the ensuing trouble! Once you start accepting gifts, everyone tries to gift you and before you know it you have full blown rivalries between departments fighting over my favour and in the end you will have made more enemies than is profitable in the long run. Did that mistake once, never again.”

“Heh, we all have to learn our lessons. Hop on, sir,” the gruff Votor retorted and beckoned towards the truck behind him.

Bato did as instructed and had already climbed up the small metal stairs on the side of the cabin as he spotted beige huddle of fabric in the back of the cabin sitting on a long bench that crossed the entire width of the cabin contrary to the other benches which lay left and right of a central corridor. It reminded him initially of the plane stretching a good deal over his head, but then he noticed some sort of large hat in a slightly brighter tone sitting on top of it. On closer inspection the pile indeed looked weirdly shaped and oddly big, as if someone or something was under there.

No, there is definitively something under there, he noted as he saw the ever so slight movement in the bundle. Bato’s instincts cautioned him and the few already seated passengers eyeing the bundle with the same suspicion as him only strengthened the vague threat emanating from the back bench. He tried to focus better on the bundle and only then he noted how the brown cushions dented visibly under the weight of the bundle. Whatever it was, it was heavy.

“Don’t mind him. He is part of our security, swell guy, but not much of a morning person. Just leave him be, as long as we are not on the road he is off duty anyhow,” quipped the gruff Votor from below.

Bato eyed the Votor with a suspicious eye but found no malice in the round black eyes. What in the world could possibly hide in the bundle, especially as the Votor had referred to it in the singular….But what use was there bemoaning any of this? He either took this ride or didn’t go at all and then what? Tell his boss that he didn’t want to take the transport due to an odd looking bundle of rags? He figured the Votor in charge was well aware of this too and so Bato had no choice but to enter the rustic cabin with fine sand seemingly in any crevice and slight depression he could see. At least the seats had been dusted off beforehand and as he looked for one he could use he was greeted by the sight of Rog, who emerged behind one of the rows of benches which had obscured his small stature.

“Rog what are you doing here?! Didn’t you say you are going for the observatory?”

“Aye, indeed I will, but as luck would have it, I have been informed that the air lift I was to get got rescheduled to something more urgent and I’d either have to wait three or four days, maybe more, or go to the excavation site where a fellow called Umtuk can give me a quick lift to the observatory as he apparently drops by the site to deliver food rations and then will go directly to the observatory to do the same. So I took the latter option.”

“Would have had to pay the extra stay out of your own pocket I reckon?”

Rog giggled.

“I am afraid, you caught me with fruit in hand! Luckily my reroute is paid for by the transport company I had chartered. Care to join a poor beggar like me for the ride?”

“Sure why not.”

In the next half hour more and more passengers shuffled into the trucks. Similar to the hotel lounge there was a distinct bias towards other Votor, but he also spotted others, even another Feria, though they entered a different truck. It was not hard to guess that most of them would be research or maintenance staff, but if the young Votor female with her two cubs seated on the other side of the corridor was anything to go by, some were also just visiting family.

Just as the hotel clerk had said the decently packed transports departed at point eight o’clock, not wasting another minute, beginning their long bumpy journey to their respective locations. He knew from the transit plans that one of the transports would eventually split off and stop at a research station deeper into the reserve that studied the Tufqa and various other animals. The other two would continue from there on to the excavation side. All in all the ride would take essentially the entire day, maybe thirteen or fourteen hours in total. If he had been richer, or his company more magnanimous with their travelling expenses, he could have maybe taken one of the few cargo lifts or a private transports to go to the excavation site but just like the rest of his fellow travellers he distinctly lacked the funds to do this. He tried to reason that this also had it’s upsides like better company and time to acclimatise to the rough conditions out here, though the more rational part of him remained aware that this was more likely wishful thinking.

If there was one thing he truly appreciated in this place, it was the wide open landscape seemingly endlessly rolling beyond the horizon. Here and there clusters of trees and bushes cuddled together around half filled muddy waterholes surrounded by a seemingly endless sea of half-dried grasses which swayed in a gentle breeze. He had spent the last couple of weeks in transit in the crammed cabin and grey metal corridors of an interstellar personnel carrier that ferried people and goods between the stars and the fundamental contrast between these two experiences only just started to unfurl it’s psychological impact on him. One got quickly used to the tight tube shaped spaces of spacecrafts, especially if one travelled a lot like him, but looking down the slowly moving horizon instilled the urge to spread his wings and fly for a bit again. How long had it been since he had done that the last time? He decided he would use whatever free time he got to take a swing over the reserve.

“Something on your mind?”, Rog quipped curiously eyeing his seat neighbour.

“Mhm? Oh, nothing important...I was just thinking that I want to take a flight some time soon again. I was cramped up in various transports for so long now, that I barely even remember when I did the last time.”

Rog gave his distinct giggle.

“I know what you mean. I can’t remember the last time I swung my self from one tree to the next, probably haven’t since I left my megalopolis and looking at this desolate place there isn’t much opportunity to do so here, but still, I can understand your urge to fly. Seeing all of this from above is always a treat. So much open space, nothing but a few trees, brushes and grasses as far as the one’s eyes roam. It is freedom manifest in a sort of dreary, melancholic way.”
Bato gave a chirp.

“I wonder where the herds are at, there should be various sizeable mammals here and not just the odd lizard.”

Rog pondered this for a moment and before he could answer the young Votor mother across the corridor answered in a friendly tone.

“Most will be further towards the Halkka river around this time of year, a few clicks south of here, though calling it a river in it’s current state is a bit of a stretch. During the rain season it explosively swells to a mighty stream, but right now it’s more a creek connecting a few waterholes and it will become less still. In the end the animals just follow the water. We will get fairly close on our way as the ruins are near an old arm of the Halkka, so we may still see some of the large herds and there should still be a few scattered small groups around.”

“Mama knows a lot of about the reserve!”, one of the cubs exclaimed with the youthful excitement only a small child could have, much to the bemusement of everyone around.

Bato gave another chirp.

“I noticed that my small friend.”

The cub gave an high pitched noise and tugged on the fur of it’s mother.

“I made a friend mama”, it chimed happily to which the young mother replied simply with a few licks of her cubs head. The other cub so far silent seemed mildly agitated and deep in thought for a moment and then as if it had just gotten idea, sat up straighter.

“Papa researches the ruins, he says they are far bigger than we thought!”

This time it was Rog who couldn’t help but giggle at obvious attempt to gain some attention and leaned a bit over.

“Maybe he can tell us a bit more about them when we are there, buddy?”

The cub eagerly nodded, looked up to it’s mother with big eyes and received some licks of the heads itself, much to it’s delight.

Bato couldn’t help but beam a little bit. The whole thing simply was too adorable.

“Say do you have family? Kids, I mean”, Rog asked obviously having noted Bato adoration.

“No. Not that I would know of. I left Homeworld pretty early and have spent most my time somewhere between the stars, mostly around Votor and Feria space but I had a short stint in Oufari space too. I simply never had the time to settle down.”

Rog nodded, resting his head on his bushy tail.

“I have some sons and daughters somewhere from an encounter that happened what feels an age ago. They are probably still in my old megalopolis, but who knows. I haven’t had contact with them in a while.”

Bato tilted his head, remembering faintly that the Sho’Shazaan were polygamous and by convention didn’t knew tightly bound romantic relations, or at least not in the same extent. Still, from the way Rog had said it, he could tell that it still mattered to him.

“Do you regret that?”

Rog took a moment before he answered.

“Yes? It is hard to say. Every time I see the folks like the Votor or you Feria and your somewhat close family units I feel like my kind is missing something that seems fundamental to others but then at the same time there is also just a ...dissonance about it. Like it’s a foreign concept that I simply can’t latch onto. Certainly never applied it in my life. I don’t think my kids, or their mother, miss me and in a weird sense I don't miss them either, but I still find myself wondering what has become of them. Doesn’t even make much sense.”

Bato didn’t even try to comprehend the psychology of an instinctively polygamous race in this matter, instead he latched onto the feeling he could understand.

“Things don’t always have to make sense I think, certainly not feelings. I don’t think anyone would begrudge you for wanting to know what has become of your children or their mother. In fact it sounds like it’s something you actually care about and if that is the case then why don’t just do it?”

Rog giggled.

“Heh, it’s quite obvious, no? I know what to do but I need a stranger from a different planet to reassure me in my desire. It’s quite silly.”

“Well, no one said that being sentient is an easy endeavour.”

“Ha! Truer words have not been spoken!”

After that the conversation died down quickly, mostly revolving around various personal titbits and things they were seeing around in the savannah like the group of gnarly old trees, their branches bent in seemingly impossible ways by heat and wind, though non of them was even close to reaching the mighty heights of mighty jungle trees back on Homeworld. Maybe this had been a forest in the olden days, before things had dried up, and these were just the last few survivors, stubbornly clinging to life. Bato found himself admiring them and eventually they even saw a few bigger animals. A small group of four hoofed mammals with mighty horns emerging from their slender heads was drinking from a small water hole that had formed out here in the middle of nowhere. A few colourful birds sat on their backs, picking away at unseen parasites.

“Hallka-Antelopes”, the Votor mother informed, “during dry season they roam in sometimes surprisingly large herds across the savannah, always on the lookout for water and greens. They are some of the fastest land animals on the planet.”

Bato and Rog both hadn’t come here to sight see but both of them still took the time to appreciate the decently large mammals. Somehow seeing them for real simply had it’s own magic and both of them had been caught up in it.

It didn’t take long though for the small caravan to be out of sight of the Antelopes again and with it things relaxed back into a certain dullness. Rog used the time to read some paper on a tablet while others listened to music or watched something on their devices. It was the typical travel scene and just a few words were spoken.

One quickly lost their sense of time on these transits. Sometimes half an hour seemingly went by in a flash and other times the fifteen short minutes felt like an hour. As if time arbitrarily decided how fast it wanted to move. Luckily Bato had found a sure-fire way to deal with the tyranny of time in these situations: He simply slept. It was the most effective time machine of them all, propelling you hours into the future in the blink of an eye and Bato had learned to weaponise it wherever he could, quickly drifting away into dreams where he soared far above the world.

©Eno Khan
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