The Knave's Crusade

Fealty: 27

Outside of a wooden house, Tels stood in the cold, wind whipped through her tendrils. Her fingers stiffened from how long she stood out there, the smell of smoke stained her nose. Mud coated her boots as rain hammered down on her, it bouncing off of the metal roof, a light flickered through the glass windows.

The Tempest finally completed their bargain when the chip was given to the rebellion. Inside the Eto family were singing Mikkian songs so loudly that everybody could hear them. A string pulled at Tels' heart, she didn't know how to feel, but with Pascal at her side it seemed that everything would be okay.

Tels cocked her head towards Pascal. "You know that you didn't have to come with."

"I heard traditional Mikkian food is delicious." Pascal added more sheepishly, "Plus, I thought you could use the support."

Tels squeezed Pascal's fingers, releasing warmth across her skin. "I always do."

Hesitantly, Tels stalked up to the front door and knocked once, the wood vibrating under the force of it. Moments later the door was roughly swung open by a plum Mikkian male, his eyes bored into Tels and tilted his head back. Through the door the end of a blaster dug into Tels' abdomen, then an older sky blue male snatched the blaster out of his hand.

"We don't treat guests like this," scolded the sky blue male, wrinkles scrunched with his scowl.

Tels pointed to herself, responding in the Mikkian language, "Lee, Papa. It's me."

"Tels-Tels, it can't be," Lerik stuttered in shock and he launched forward to embrace Tels.

An elderly, violet Mikkian female appeared from nowhere as she showered Tels with kisses. Beshir, Tels' father, clung to his family as if they all would vanish in a blink of an eye.

"Shraa, our little girl is now home." cried out Beshir as tears trailed down his face, "We thought we would never see you again."

"It's okay now. I'm home," comforted Tels, her voice strained.

Shraa poked her head over Tels' shoulder. "Who is your friend here? Come in. If you're in the rain anymore you'll catch a cold." Shraa gestured to Pascal to enter after Tels.

Tels introduced, "Ummm, this is Pascal. Pascal, this is my mother Shraa, my father Beshir, and my brother Lerik."

For once Pascal was at a loss of words, so Tels pushed her forward and dragged Pascal to the kitchen. Inside a fire roared in the center of the room, smoke exited through the roof. On one side was a kitchen set up with a rectangular table with four chairs. On the other side was a set of odd chairs with two doors leading to somewhere.

Wood creaked under Tels' feet as she sat down and threw her coat over the back of her chair. Lerik pulled up a fifth chair and plopped down at Tels' side. Pascal stiffly sat on the other side of Tels and jumped when Beshir slammed down bowls of piping hot soup.

"Thank you," Pascal responded in garbled Mikkian.

"Don't worry about it. We can speak in Basic for ya," replied Beshir in the common language.

Shraa sets down a plate of bread and butter. "This should keep you two full for a bit. Lerik don't eat until we're all seated."

Lerik set down his spoon. "Sorry, Ma. We're having a late dinner."

When everyone was at the table, they all began to eat in silence.

Shraa broke it. "Pascal, how did you meet Tels?"

"That's a long story, ma'am," replied Pascal with a full mouth.

"We both were sent on a mission to Adras and it went downhill from there." explained Tels, "Then, we were kidnapped and the rest is history."