Careful not to make any additional sound, Blue-Yellow-Blue straddled the joist to which he’d just affixed one of his explosive spikes and crept to the next intersection. Through his cousin’s continuing chatter he heard a Squinty-eye word, one of the few he cared about. One that captured his attention.

Money.

He flicked off his earpiece without even notifying his cousin, and lowered himself closer to the ceiling of the office. Through the gaps in the ceiling tiles he could make them out – three of their females, and none of them pregnant (though it was more difficult to tell in the larger two, the ones who seemed to carry the traits of the cursed Supremals). He would stay clear of those, if he could – he knew the Supremal offshoots would eat him if they caught him, and his soul would never reach paradise or rejoin his nest. But one of them was was speaking to the display panel on the wall, and she was talking about money.

“…The strongest thinking box ever created … Richest pirates in the galaxy … Wealth beyond the joyful imagination of sexual child-making.” He translated with rapt attention.

But then the face on the panel cut her off and she was leaving the room.

Blue-Yellow-Blue scurried up higher into the plenum and flipped on his earpiece. His cousin still chattered, not even realizing he had been turned off. Silence, now, Gray-Yellow-Gray! Calling his cousin by the operative name instead of his family name caught his attention, and he fell silent. Stick to your mission as I must to mine. I’m closing down to re-arrange priorities with the nest.

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