“Oh good god, that was fucking hot,” Saren read in a stony voice. “I loved everything about it.”
Nihlus had been about to throw a rumpled shirt into his little pile near the projector. Instead, he paused in mid-toss, and the shirt ended up over his face. He clawed it away. “Er, yeah?”
Continue reading [17]The spaceport was a mess.
Nihlus picked his way through the debris, searching for a very specific object. With the warped metal and carbon dust coating just about everything, this was becoming more of a chore than he’d thought it would be. And he hadn’t thought of it as a walk in the park in the first place.
Continue reading [16]He was in the general’s skycar when his earpiece gave him an alert.
“Just a minute,” he said to the lavishly dressed turian lounging beside him on the equally opulent seat. “I’ve got a call.” He turned aside, a hand over his ear. “Hello?”
“Nihlus.”
Continue reading [15]It’s been three hours now. The rain showed no signs of letting up. If anything, it poured harder than ever before. And it poured. It was less droplets of water falling gently on the hillside than a sky-sized fire hose, pointing at whatever unfortunate creature that found itself without shelter. Fortunately, he was warm and dry. Now, anyway. He’d pulled off his waterlogged weave as soon as he entered the cave. The thing was good for hard vacuum, but the water that had accumulated in the collar made him feel like a walking fish tank.
Continue reading [14]There is a batarian lying at the edge of his vision. His face is full of surprise–and will be for the foreseeable future, since there is a steel I-beam protruding from his stomach and into the ceiling–or is it the other way around? Even ablative armour can’t handle that much momentum. Nihlus presses on.
Continue reading [13]If there was one thing Nihlus envied about humans, it was their ability to pinch their cartilaginous noses. Being used to the sweet and sickening scent of the swamp by no means prepared him for the reality of an on-site examination of a bloated corpse, which currently was managing to attract more insect-like life than their three bright LECs put together. He looked down at his sludge-and-who-knows-what-else-covered hands. Perhaps it was for the best. That stuff can’t be too good for his face.
“Pass me the pank bone.”
Continue reading [12]