3 months, 2 days III
By the time Rxt’rrq’kklt Zvvtl’xxrk reached the shuttle he’d used to travel to the pompous Cuuvloo’s mansion, he was running. The front of cool, calm, collectedness he’d displayed during the interrogation . . . ehm, discussion . . . gone like mist. Flinging himself into the shuttle he opened the accursed channel. “Do you have them?” came the detached, almost mechanical voice from the other side. “Yes, yes I have them here. You don’t get them until I hear my children’s voices, and if I don’t so help me I will-” “Daddy!” sounded an excited, bubbly shout, bringing immediate tears of joy and relief to his Rxt’rrq’kklt’s eyes. He even felt laughter for the first time in [days]. She was a hostage, and she sounded just as stoked as the time he’d taken her to see the harmonic crystals on the pl
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