Drabble #24

Padre Tundle prayed aloud for the soldiers’ victory. “Swift is our justice.”

Quietly, watching them assemble on the launch deck, he prayed their souls should rest after battle. 

“Your god must be pleased with all his new soldiers,” some admiral said behind him. It could only be an admiral this high in the citadel.

“I am merely guiding them back to their father,” Tundle said. He turned, spilling out his velvet robes behind him. “I am merely a servant of the lord.”

The admiral paused, then sent the order, feeding his soldiers into the war machine. “Swift is our justice.”

Art created using Dream by WOMBO

Drabble #23

The overhead speaker shrieked. “The escape pods are not to be used for entertainment,” came the ship steward’s voice. Ensigns Danver and Fold watched the speaker and waited. A low whistle and a sharp click told them the message was over.

Fold turned. “What did you do?”

Danver shrugged. “Well, when those newbies docked last week, I showed this young pilot around…”

Ford clapped, a conversation-ending sound when you have webbed fingers. “I don’t want to know. Just,” the amphibiod shook their head, “be more discreet.”

Danver slid a finger over Fold’s smooth, bluish shoulder, “hmm, I have an idea.”

Art created using Dream by WOMBO