[Teal]

Six

Jas blinked and stared into the shadows; he’d thought his foster mother would have forgotten him, by now, so… “What’re yer doing here, Bea…?! Yer trying ter get yerself killed…?” he asked, his face creasing in worry.
"I’m actually trying not to get caught, so stop speaking so loudly!" she hunkered down under her ledge. "I'm here to get you out – if you want to come with me. If you don't, well, that's fine with me, I'll just help the others."
"Others? An’ help 'em do what?"
"We've heard rumours that the old queen's on her way out – so we're snooping. Seeing if we can find out if there actually is the queen egg she's supposed to have laid… if we can't find out, we're just going to rescue some eggs, and make a run for it."
"Yer know I'm goin ter be meant ter stop yer, don't yer?" he asked, dismally.
She nodded, sadly. "I know."
"An' if I don't I'm in serious doo-doo with management."
“I’m sorry, Jas.”
He sighed, and mooched back to his post. “Yer could pretend ter be a cleaner,” he suggested, tiredly. “I’ll get yer a bucket, if yer want.”
She just laughed and watched him sprint off down the corridor, glancing about to make sure no-one saw him abandoning his post. In all, she mused, he hadn’t really changed that much…

He returned a little awkwardly, trying not to slosh the water out of the bucket and end up slipping over on the soap, and struggling to keep his gun trapped under his arm at the same time. He dumped it down on the floor with a soft “oof” of effort, and stretched his back.
A few minutes later he was still rambling on about nonsense, not paying the slightest bit of attention to her, so Bea smartly kicked one leg out from under him, knocking him over. "Jas, will you shut up for a minute? Now listen carefully to me," she whispered, resuming 'cleaning' the floor.
He scrambled back to his feet, honked, noisily, and swished the gun about, as though about to beat her with it. Playing her part well, she cowered and put her arms over her head. He leaned closer, trying to look threatening. "What?" he hissed, and honked again for good measure.
"What’s behind that door over there?" She asked, uncovering her head and nodding at the locked door over the other side of the wide courtyard.
"So those muds Skan an’ the others found was with yer, huh?”
She nodded, sadly.
Jas sighed. “Shoulda known,” he said, softly. “Tha’s the new hatchery,” Then he added, proudly; “I’m guardin’ it. What yer want ter know 'bout it?"
“How many eggs are there inside?”
“I sneaked a look through the window in the door, but, uh…” His tentacles drooped. "It was dark, and wi' no lights on I don' see very well. I only saw one. A big one, too."
"That's what I thought," Bea nodded. "The rumour merchants were right – the old queen must have produced the egg. Poor old girl must be on her way out."
Jas sighed, and leaned against the wall. "Well… They said production were down," he agreed, quietly, looking for a cigarette.
Bea nodded, rubbing thoughtfully.
"So… what happens now?"
"I have to get it," she sighed, softly.
"How we going ter do that?" he asked, with a frown.
"I don't know yet, Jas." She replied, a little reassured to hear him saying “we” rather than “you”. At a soft snik-snik-snik-snik from behind she looked up.
Jas met her reproachful gaze, finally getting his lighter to work. "What?" he asked round the cigarette in his mouth.
"Smoking, Jas?"
"Uh-uh," he replied. "This is a figment."
"A figment?"
"Of yer imagination."
Bea just gave him a sad look, and shook her head.
For a good half an hour they were silent; Jas paced, shoulders slumped, tussling with his conflicting feelings, and Bea just sat and worried about how and whether she’d succeed in her task.
Soon the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the corridor. Bea hastily got back to scrubbing the floor; Jas looked down the passageway and watched Narik lope over.
“Problem, Nar?” he asked, idly.
Narik shook his head. “Naw. Just on patrol.”
“Good,” Jas straightened up and stretched his back, shoulders clicking. “I needed a break. Yer can take over from me fer a while.”
Narik cocked his head. “Yeah, but… ain’t this your post, boss…?”
Jas shrugged. “Yep. But I’ve been here all day – think I deserve a couple o’ minutes off-duty. I’m goin’ fer a coffee. Yer can watch the door while I’m gone,” he said, and trotted off.
Bea gave the other slig a look of extreme trepidation; he may not be as sturdy-looking as Jas, but he was a lot bigger, and there was a coldness in his scarlet gaze.
Narik looked back at her, boldly. “There a problem?”
“Uh…” she quickly looked away, and got back to her cleaning. “N-no, no problem…”

Jas heard the noise long before he even reached his post. He sighed, tiredly, and broke into a sprint…
Narik was honking with fury and beating hell out of the bony creature that cowered helplessly on the floor in front of him. "I'll teach yer to get sassy wi' me, yer skinny li'l punk…!" he ranted, furiously, raining blows down with his gun.
Jas seized the weapon with both hands and cracked the other slig a vicious blow around the head with it. "Cut it out, f**kwit!" he howled. "Can't yer see it's old? Yer'll kill it, then I'll end up havin' ter report it!"
"Yeah, yeah, okay, Spidey, yer don' hafta hit so damn hard, yer know!" Narik put his arms up to fend off the blows.
Jas snorted with disgust and honked, throwing the weapon away from him and sending it skittering down the corridor. "Go find yer own patrol. I don' want yer killin' any Muds on my watch. Now piss off!"
Narik stormed away; "Mudlover," he grumbled.
"I heard that," Jas snapped. "Want ter make something out of it?"
The other just honked, and nipped smartly round the corner. The second he was out of earshot, Jas bent down next to Bea and caught her arms, gently. "Yer 'kay, Bea?"
She managed a convulsive nod. "Let me get my breath back…" she panted.
"How badly are yer hurt?" He gave her a cursory visual exam.
"Just… just a little bruised," she wheezed, painfully. "I'll be sore for a few days, but nothing serious."
He nodded, but carefully kept hold of her arms anyway, to support her, until she’d finished wheezing. She found it reassuring to note that although he'd been forced to grow up almost ludicrously quickly, and had taken on typical slig mannerisms just as fast, under all that emotional armour his heart was still in the right place.

Bea met up with the remainder of her group as arranged, out behind the barrels in the yard. She did a quick head count – the remaining six from her original team had swelled to a far-more-healthy nineteen; the new additions were mostly young – one looked barely out of infancy – but, although excited at the prospect of escape, they also looked remarkably calm. And she was also pleased to note that nearly everyone had two eggs – healthy, round slightly-glossy eggs – it was only the youngest one that didn’t have one at all.
She nodded, satisfied, then informed them of her news. "We've found The Egg," she said, quietly.
There were murmurs of excitement from the others.
"But-" she held up a paw for silence. "We have yet to get it out. It's highly guarded; although I’ve had some ideas, it may be possible to even get to it. So we'll get these to safety first,” she gestured at the precious cargo most of the team held, “as soon as it gets dark, then think what we're going to do…"
One raised a paw. “Uhm, Bea…?”
“Yes?”
“You said you’d had some ideas…?”
She smiled, wryly. “I was hoping no-one had picked up on that. Yes, I’ve had a few ideas. I was thinking of asking one of the guards to help us.”
There was a ripple of nervous laughter.
“You may laugh,” she said, calmly. “But I wasn’t joking. The guard is Jas.”
“He’s still alive…?!” one asked, startled.
Bea nodded. “He appears to be willing to help, as well. At least, he hasn’t said he won’t…”
“So… what are we going to do now, Bea…?” one of the younger ones asked.
She sighed, and rubbed her temples. “Get these safe. Then you lot can wait in the scrubland while I go back.”
“You-… you’re going alone…?”
“We’ve lost two of our number already,” Bea said, sternly. “If I go alone then there will only be me in danger.”
“But-”
“No buts. And it’s getting dark; let’s go.”

Drek greeted him with "Heard yer beat Narik senseless today, kid," as Jas mooched into the mess hall that evening.
Jas snorted. "He was bein' a f**kwit. Deserved it," he snapped, laying flat on his chin on the table.
"Jask, Narik’s always a f**kwit,” Drek said, dryly. “What did 'e do?" The older slig leaned back against the wall and braced himself with his feet on the table.
"Nearly beat some ancient mud ter death on my watch. I only asked ‘im ter watch the door fer me fer a coupla minutes.”
“Yer ought ter know Narik’s a few bricks short o’ the load by now, Jask.”
“Yeah, but I only went ter get a coffee…! I thought, what can happen in fifteen minutes…?!" Jas’ voice was heating with exasperation.
Drek sighed, lit up a cigarette. “Dunno why I bothered askin’. Should’ve known it’d be somethin’ like that…”
“And what’s that supposed to mean…?”
“Aw, come off it, Jask, ev’ryone knows yer got a soft spot fer muds.”
“And what if I have…?”
Drek sighed, tiredly. “Yer in a bloody awful mood today, Shortie…”
Jas scowled, blackly. "Yer call me anythin' resemblin' 'small' or 'short' or ter do wi' my lack o' size once more," he grated. "An' I'm goin' ter kick yer clean through ter the middle o' next frackin' week."
Drek held up his hands. "'Kay, 'kay, point taken," He said, tiredly, and puffed a cloud. "Yeesh, somethin's really chewin' yer today, ain't it?"
Jas just huffed inarticulately.
"Here," Drek bounced a cigarette off Jas' snout. “Now stop mopin’ and cheer up a bit, yer bein’ a right misery-guts.”
Jas studied the cigarette. “Sorry,” he said, and sighed. “I guess somethin’s preyin’ on my mind a little, at the moment,” he flicked the lighter.
Drek just shrugged. “Want to talk about it?” didn’t seem to be part of the slig vocabulary.
Jas rubbed his eyes, tiredly. “My brain hurts.”
“Too much caffeine?” Skan asked, settling opposite.
“Not enough caffeine…” Jas replied, closing his eyes.
For a while they just sat and chatted about nothing; Jas was trying valiantly to keep his chin up, but something akin to despair was settling on his heart – what in Odd’s name was he going to do…? Why the frack did Bea have to have come here…?
Soon enough Jark arrived, to tell Drek his shift was starting. He noted Jas’ despondent mood quite quickly; "Wha's up wi' Short-Ass today, then?" he asked.
There was none of the ritual banter, this time – no swapping of poisonous comments, egging each other on – Jas was out of that chair like a bolt of lightning and had his hands fastened round Jark's throat before the other slig had realised that he'd even moved.
“Awk! Gerroff, yer li’l psycho!” he managed, scrabbling at Jas’ lean hands, fastened like steel bands about his throat. Sharply he twisted, smartly dislodging Jas and sending the smaller slig tumbling into a table.
Jas snarled and was immediately back on the offensive, snatching up a knife and going for his eyes this time.
“Someone grab ‘im!” Jark howled, fending off the knife and getting a deep cut in his arm. “Fer frack’s sake, grab ‘im!! I want ter keep my eyes where they are!!”
Skan vaulted to his feet and pinned Jas’ arms behind him. “Frack, what’s up wi’ yer?” he exclaimed, struggling to keep his grip on the furious youngster.
Jas just howled inarticulately and fought to get his arms free.
Drek strode over, scowling, and dealt Jas a smart blow round the skull with a convenient plate. “Now who’s bein’ a f**kwit?” he snapped. “Cut it out, yer damned idiot!”
Jas blinked, slightly stunned, the fight gone out of his eyes, and relaxed against Skan’s grip, breathing hard.
Jark gave him a look of extreme trepidation. “Yer goin’ ter go fer my throat again if he lets go o’ yer…?” he asked, gripping the cut in his arm in a futile effort to stop it bleeding.
“No,” Jas sighed. “An’… sorry, I guess. Don’t know why I got so pissed off at yer, I just… overreactin’ to everythin’, at the moment…”
Drek nodded to Skan, who released Jas arms, silently. “Go get some sleep,” the older slig said, tiredly. “Mebbe yer’ll be in a better mood come mornin’.”
Jas nodded, and drifted away, tiredly.
Drek swapped a glance with Skan. “Wonder what’s up…?” the younger one said, frowning.
Drek shook his head. “Dunno. But I hope he snaps out o’ it soon.”

Jas sighed, faintly, and mooched into his room in barracks. He kicked off his pants and collapsed bonelessly onto his bunk. Why the frack did yer 'ave ter come lookin' fer me, Bea…?
He was still awake when Drek arrived a few hours later.
“Thought yer’d have been asleep ages ago,” Drek commented, settling down in the lower bunk and turning the light off.
“Nah,” Jas sighed, staring at the ceiling.
"You still worked up?" Drek asked.
Jas nodded, then realised his pack-mate couldn’t see that, so said, softly; “Yeah.”
"Wha's eatin' yer?"
“Don't know. Just…" he sighed again, tiredly. "Worryin'"
“’Bout?”
"Dunno. I'm just… gettin' the feelin' somethin's brewin'."
Drek laughed. "Aw, yer doomsayin' again, Jaskie. Mebbe yer et somethin' that didn't like yer."
Jas laughed, faintly. "Maybe," then sighed and turned to face the wall, hugging the bedclothes closer around his lean frame; it felt oddly cold, tonight, even though the environmental systems maintained a constant temperature throughout barracks.
"Yer sure yer all right?" Drek asked again from the lower bunk.
"Course I am. Stop askin'!"
"Well, yer don't sound all right, keepin' on sighin' like that."
"I'm fine."
"Yeah, well, yer make sure yer are, 'cause if I find out yer getting' sick I'll kick yer down ter Med Centre so fast yer feet won' touch th' ground."
Jas chuckled. "If I didn' know better, I'd think yer was worried, Drek."
Drek made an idle noise. "Naw – well, kinda. I jus' know some o’ the medics down in the med. unit, an' can pull a few strings an' get yer a decent quack if yer ill."
Jas smiled, faintly. “Thanks, Drek.”
“Ah, don’ mention it. Anythin’ ter help a friend.”
Jas laughed. “’Night, then.”
“Yep. Try an be in a better mood by mornin’, though, yer hear?”
“I’ll try.”