“I cannot guarantee they will function as promised after those,” Eldi’ka waved a paw at the drawing on the tablet, “things sweep through, but I have repositioned all of them as ordered.”  He stood before Tuk’cha’chet, breathing hard and sweating, his fur matted and filthy.  The Chet wrinkled her nose and squinted at the Dreamer.  He smells like a charnel house.  This was likely the most physical labor the Kaht had performed in years, but Tuk’cha’chet spared him no sympathy.

“If they work at all, it may be enough.”  She crossed her arms and frowned.  “Will they at least detonate?”

“Of course, Chet.”  The disrespect in the Kaht’s voice was clear, but Tuk’cha’chet ignored it&...

Please subscribe to keep reading.