Colonies of U'u'kata

Ezra felt numb and there was an annoying ringing in his ears he couldn't seem to get rid of, no matter how many times he stuck his finger in his ear or flexed his jaw to get his ears to pop.

Around him, his Tilith companions talked, and prepared, and joked. But all he could hear was that damned ringing.

He hadn't slept and the events of last night kept playing over, and over in his head. The drugged Uu'k'asht, the bugs, the evil things he'd said about Cali. He kept hearing the gunshot and that Uu'k'asht's head dribbling blood and brain matter into the wildflowers at his feet. Rhythm had flown him out of the clearing before the body had been dismembered, but Ezra's imagination was vivid enough to fill in the blanks about what that would have looked like. What it would have sounded like.

"I'm not cut out for this," he whispered to himself.

What the hell was he doing here with these seasoned warriors? What did he think he was playing at, psychologically torturing someone and suggesting gorilla warfare? What did he know about war?

Nothing. That's what. He was a movie buff and a science nerd and that damned ringing just wouldn't fucking stop!

Licking his dry lips, Ezra swallowed hard and engaged his hand terminal. The display hovered above his palm and he selected one of the songs he'd—thankfully—downloaded before C.O.S. was destroyed and he was cut off from the network. He then tapped his ring-finger and thumb together twice before tapping his ring-finger to the back of each ear.

His ears popped once, and the music flooded through his senses. Ezra loved oldies as much as he loved horror and action movies and as Broken Heart Collector by Arankai obliterated the ringing in his ears. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes as the gentle, warm breeze flitted over his face and shuddered through the blue and purple leaves of the trees. He tapped his fingers on his knees as the beat whisked away thoughts of torture and dismemberment.

Something splashed across the front of him and he jerked with a gasp, eyes flying open to see Delleth laying on his belly in front of him, gripping a bucket.

Looking down at himself, Ezra grimaced at the mud now covering him and shot to his feet.

"Damnnit, Delleth!" he snapped. "What the fuck!"

The boy flinched and scrambled to stand, clutching the bucket to his chest. He took a step back and dropped his eyes, hunching his shoulders. The submissive posture instantly filled Ezra with guilt and he tapped his thumb and ring-finger again, shutting off the music. "I'm sorry, kid. I didn't mean to... I shouldn't have yelled at you like that," he said, slowly stepping up to the kid and putting his hands on his biceps. The boy flinched at his touch and he softened his tone as he said, "Delleth, I'd never hurt you. Never. Okay? I'm so sorry I yelled. You did nothing wrong."

Delleth nodded quickly, but didn't meet Ezra's eyes. He had to reach up and grab the kid's chin to get the kid to look down at him. "Look at me, Delleth," he said.

Finally, Delleth met his gaze and the fear in his metallic eyes wrenched at Ezra's heart.

"I'm sorry, kiddo. It's not your fault, okay? I'm not mad. I'm just really tired and I was surprised."

"Um... I, uh, I know a place you can get cleaned up. It's... this way," Delleth said quietly, nodding his head and walking a few steps away before turning back to look at Ezra. "It's not far," he added.

Ezra sniffed and looked down at himself, then nodded. "Okay, kiddo, lead the way," he said tiredly.

When he passed Captain De'Lain, the large Tilith snorted and said, "What happened to you?"