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On the first night of their journey back toward their shuttle, Tejeda had to share what happened at the others’ behest. He retold the events without revealing much about his abilities or skills. He did not like being looked upon as though he were a god. Well, sometimes it felt good, but not coming from his crew.
In the end, Tejeda fumbled with the edges of the matchbox, taking on the role of an incompetent, one he liked to play. “You know, it took me four tries to light a match and burn down the contents of that cave along with any residue of Fresh Flesh. But the rest was easy peasy. The only thing left is Kirian’s body I now wear, but everything belonging to the bacteria is gone.”
Hanga directed the droid's light toward the ceiling and dimmed the intensity. "It didn't seem so easy to me."
Dropping her thermal blanket on the ground, Shayla gazed at Hanga. “It wasn’t. I had to battle that fucking monster and got beaten to a pulp. I’m more curious as to why I’m all healed up now like the fight was just a dream and my wounds weren’t real.”
“Maybe you were knocked unconscious and fantasized about fighting with Fresh Flesh.” Tejeda winked at her and crawled inside his blanket.
Nose twitching, she pushed down the stretchy material of her uniform over her left shoulder for Tejeda to see.
He raised an eyebrow, amused.
She pointed toward her skin. "See? No bruise! I mean, I straightened up the dislocated shoulder, but it still should have a bruise."
Tejeda shrugged and smiled.
Shayla continued. “I can bet I heard my ribs cracking under the pressure Fresh Flesh applied when he raised me in his hand.” Then she pointed toward her lower lip. “And this was bleeding too. How the void am I fully healed?”
He shrugged once more. “How am I supposed to know? A miracle, perhaps?”
“You do know. Tell me!” Shayla yelled, her green eyes piercing like her daggers. “When will you stop having secrets? We are your crew!”
Hanga and C1313 stood there watching them both. The Valerian sat down, preparing his place for the day, but C1313 remained still, only her eyes darting from Shayla to Tejeda and back.
Tejeda couldn’t care less if they had an audience or not. “My crew didn’t ask me to share anything. You are. I’ll share my secrets with you when you do the same.” He raised his chin, proud of his diplomatic voice.
Shayla glanced at him, her eyes too dull to communicate emotion, and she lost her penchant for caustic prodding. She muttered something, her words unheard on the wind sweeping past the cave's tiny entrance. He might never find out what she had said under her breath. Perhaps she was cursing him and the day they met.
Another two days went by without incident. Whenever Tejeda asked Shayla a question, she just sighed or snarled, chimes more profound than a thousand words. He couldn't tell whether she was unhappy because he was secretive or because he discovered she had secrets as well.
When they got back to the shuttle, Shayla took the pilot's seat, and Tejeda slouched next to her. He opened the screen to watch the position of the two moons of Larva 5. Zeounny, the rising moon, had a breathable atmosphere, and it was also the closest to the Space Spoon.
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