Dyed in Red
Shouts of combat filled the air deep inside the prisoner compound. Humans and Drogar both practiced fighting against each other in little groups inside each sparring circle.
Watching over all of them was Admiral Chase, who was still pondering Retholis’ warning. Next to her was a stern-looking brown-scaled Drogar with short facial spines. His uniform was as plain and simple as the rest of the guards, except the markings on his collar revealed he had an officer’s rank.
And the scowl on his face revealed his displeasure at the sight before him.
“Thank you for helping us with this, Shieldmaster Toreth,” said the Admiral.
Toreth looked at the Admiral with a wary eye and harrumphed lightly.
“Save your thanks for Swarmfather Retholis,” he responded. “I’m merely following orders.”
“You don’t think training us to be able to defend ourselves is a good thing?”