Maelia pulls his hands from the sink and shakes them dry, leaving the dishes to soak as he turns to face you. “You think?”
“How long was he there?” You curl your lip at the carnage on the kitchen table. You won’t fault him for inhaling his meal the way he did— probably the first decent one he’s had in sweeps— but still. Someone has to introduce that child to a napkin.
Maelia leans back against the counter and shrugs. “Didn’t ask. Too damn long, whatever it was.”
His face pricks into a scowl. Thinking about that horrid carnie, no doubt. You let the silence hang for a moment.
“You know I don’t often hold strong opinions on things.”
“Mm.”
“But that man…”
“Agreed,” he nods, sensing your disgust.
You tsk softly, eyeing the table again and wrinkling your nose. “I can hardly imagine you’ll get any work done while he’s here.”
Maelia shoots you a warning look, challenging you to continue.
“Not a judgement, sir. Just a fact.” You straighten your shoulders and raise your chin, eyes focused on his. “I’ll contact Sid in the evening to discuss your schedule. Between the two of us, redistributing your more sensitive work should be simple enough.”
He regards you for a moment, eyebrows twitching together for half a second as he processes your response.
It’s not difficult for him to work out your intentions. You’ve known each other for most of your adult lives.
In an instant, the general is smiling.
“Sap.”
You blow a puff of air out through your nose, humored. “I’ve a cold heart, Maelia. Not a dead one.”
He laughs at that, letting a comfortable silence settle between you before he shifts gears and speaks again.
“So. We live with a tiger now.”
“I’ll put in an order for an industrial-sized litter box,” you snort, shaking your head.
“You’re taking this rather well,” he comments, grinning. “You misplace that stick you keep up your ass?”
You roll your eyes fondly and give him another jovial exhale. “I suppose I did. Left it on Draxil-9, perhaps.”
Maelia guffaws, his warm laughter rumbling through you. You both remember that planet well. Few intergalactic races are as adept at building colonies as the Alternian Empire, but you’re not the only invaders in the universe.
The man has always preferred to avoid any sort of planetary turf war, but it’s a different story when he sees a vulnerable people being needlessly abused.
He’s predictable, your general. You can’t say you were surprised to see him returning from that hellish circus with a new ward.
Ouch!! It's okay bestie, I forgive you! Anyway what do YOU do huh? Like for a living
"I am second in command to General Drakon, the Basilisk. I do whatever work that entails. Keeping things in order and properly recorded, assisting in plans, relaying orders. Are we finished?"
