The Hurricane Field of Bilumen Qua swung the large gate of Caiaphas hither and fro. The foRum Holes atop the capitol hills were sessions of civil discouragement above the torrent wind. “bedKa. Oh bedKa my love. Be well.” spoke TrAgar, slicing xtracie fruits for his love. bedKa had fallen ill during the tRifite expedition. She encouraged TrAgar to let the plain rest. The Hurricane was idled in the valley.
bedKa summed the Field a gentle billow of foil because her memory feeds were coming at low frequency. Only the most subtle of conversations had been stored at those levels. The excited high end was gated and she was not aware. TrAgar pinched xtracie juiced for her to take in her mouth, to numb the sores.
tRifite had the sullen gleam of a dim red sun as three ships nearly bent too passed to unfold the fort and tanks. The starship held the masses static while the kux fitted the environment and the pilfers stocked the little ship.