Chapter Text
It was a chilly night. The fresh docking caps on Viksis’ lower arms felt especially cold. He wasn’t used to the tight fit on his docked arms and the ends felt numb in the cold air. He ran his other hands and arms together as if they could make up for the missing limbs as he sat with the others in the grotto Captain Preksik had taken them to for the night. Out of the worst of the wind.
None of the others had talked to him yet. They were suspicious of him. It wouldn’t be the first time a rival Captain had thrown a newly docked dreg at an upcoming rival in an attempt to destabilize their power base.Viksis thought those dregs would be a little less miserable than him, knowing after their time with the other Captain they’d be allowed to grow their arms back. Viksis didn’t see that happening any time soon.
Preksik climbed into all the places his crew had stuffed themselves into in the grotto handing out the nightly ration of ether. Viksis was surprised by that. His last Captain hadn’t done that. It was take what you could get with her. Preksik stopped briefly where Viksis was in the rock and the canister was passed over. He just bowed his head, not making eye contact. Preksik clambered up the rock to the next dreg.
Viksis checked the canister he currently had. It was almost empty, the ether thin, more Earth air than ether. The current one owed him nothing. He switched it out, holding his breath. He still wasn’t really used to only having one canister, or the docked arms. He fumbled the empty one and it slipped out of his grip. He reached for it with his lower right arm but there was nothing there. The sound of the metal canister tumbling down the rock sounded very loud in the quiet grotto. Viksis winced and shoved the new canister into place so he could breathe. He was surprised by the quality and quantity of the ether. Teksik’s dregs got bad ether, heavily diluted. He hadn’t breathed this well since his arms had been docked.
He shoved himself back into the hole he’d wedged himself in when Preksik’s face appeared over the top of the rock, cape falling down, completely covering the entrance. “Did you drop this?” he asked, holding the canister.
“Ah-- yes,” Viksis said, ready for some sort of retribution.
“Do not. There is still ether in it,” and it was handed back to him. Viksis stared and carefully took it back. Then Preksik was gone. Viksis didn’t know what to make of that. His old Captain would have yelled at him for dropping a canister, whether it had ether in it or not. And a smack probably if it did have ether in it, for wasting it.
More scratching on the rock around and another dreg appeared, crawling into Viksis’ space. There was just enough for both of them in the crack in the wall. “Uh… can I help you?”
“Yskivros, who are you,” Yskivros said.
“Viksis.”
“Who’s crew you part of?”
Viksis didn’t like the implication there. His eyes narrowed. Stupidly one of his lower arms reached for the knife at his belt. There was no lower arm. “Preksik, just like Yskivros,” he said.
“Good,” Yskivros said and fished out something from a big pouch at his side. “Yskivros top dreg, here,” and he handed Viksis food. “Eat, Preksik get mad if you don’t.” It was some unknown cooked flesh wrapped in paper. Viksis couldn’t help the wiggling of his mandibles excitedly. He hadn’t had actual meat in a long time. Teksik usually kept all the good meat for herself and even left none for her Vandals. Yskivros noticed. “Old crew not provide?”
“No,” he said.
“Bad crew.”
“Shit crew.”
“Preksik not like that. Preksik dreg once. He makes sure even the dregs eat. Now take, I have more to give out,” he offered the meat. Viksis took it and Yskivros clambered out of his hole in the rock and up to the next hidey hole.
It was always an annoying ordeal to eat off a skiff or a ketch. Tubes in the way so you could breathe and you couldn’t breathe and eat at the same time. Viksis was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t just organ meat or scraps pressed together to make a sort of meat shaped thing. It was the entire leg of some animal. Viksis happily gnawed on it, tearing off flesh and scarfing it down before grinding through the bone. He could eat the bone but the part he liked was the dark marrow in the middle. Bone shards snapped against his sharp teeth and he used his tongue to lick out the marrow before eating the rest of the bone. There was nothing left of the meat when he was done other than some grease on the paper.
Depressingly it was probably the most filling meal he’d had since he left his mother and joined Teksik’s crew.
Belly full for the first time in a long time Viksis curled up in the little space in the grotto, wrapping his arms around himself. It wasn’t as warm missing two arms and no one to sleep with. But he didn’t expect to be welcomed openly on his first day. He just hoped it didn’t last long. It was lonely sleeping by himself.
--
Morning was cold and Viksis felt it in every limb, undocked or not. It had snowed during the night. Viksis hated the snow. He’d been told on Riis it had never snowed, their old world closer to the sun than this terrible alien planet. At the bottom of the grotto Preksik was calling for the crew to wake up. Viksis didn’t want to be the last one down there. So despite his cold limbs he extracted himself from his hole and climbed down the rock, popping a squat next to the vandals who were already awake, their black and red armor looked a lot warmer than what Viksis was wearing.
The rest of the dregs eventually crawled out of their holes to join them. Achsis-7, Preksik’s small servator, was floating around behind him, waiting, looking at the crew expectantly. Preksik waited until everyone was there, all twelve of them, a large crew for such a young Captain. Viksis wasn’t the only one shivering in the light snow by the time the last of the dregs appeared. Stranger or no two other dregs pressed up against Viksis to share some warmth. It was so cold.
“There is good news for us,” Preksik said when the full crew was there. “Teksik found my offer ‘amusing’ enough that she giving us one of her worst skiffs.” There was some excited chittering. Viksis didn’t like the sound of that. He’d seen the worst skiffs. They were barely flight worthy. “But that does mean we will be wintering here, to make repairs, and someone needs to learn to fly the thing.” There was some disappointed sighing. Apparently the plan had been to go to warmer climates for the winter? Viksis wouldn’t have minded that. Neither did anyone else. But now that they had to repair a skiff that might not even be able to be repaired fully.
He really had been given to a very new Captain.
“The cold is harsh. But we will survive. This planet’s weather is nothing like what our brothers are dealing with on other worlds. This system has planets made of only ice and snow! Would you rather be there?” Preksik asked. There was some grumbling but ultimately the answer was ‘no’. “It will be warm in the skiff. Atrylis, Frytkis, Obygek you will accompany me to Teksik’s territory to retrieve the skiff. The rest of you stay here and wait for our return. Braldos, you are in charge,” and the biggest vandal nodded.
With that Preksik and the rest of the vandals left, leaving just the cold dregs and Braldos behind. Braldos was a big vandal. Fed well, skin a flushed purple gray and had extra ether canisters in her belt. “How many of you have been through a winter this far north?” Braldos asked the dregs. Only Viksis raised a hand. Braldos sighed. “Well we will have to prepare. It isn’t even winter yet. Even the humans must prepare, for during winter they are vulnerable. We must be swifter than them so if the opportunity presents itself we may strike first.” The shivering dregs nodded. “But first we take care of ourselves,” she beckoned them. Only Viksis hesitated. Then he saw Braldos was handing out more ether canisters. The morning ration. His canister was still half full and he already got another? And he still had that one almost empty, useful only if he was completely out otherwise. He waited patiently for his with the other dregs.
“Winter is long up here. Food will be scarce. So we must get what we can now,” Braldos said once she’d handed all the canisters out. Viksis had his in a pouch for when he needed it. Some of the others immediately changed their canisters out for fresh ether. Viksis still wasn’t sure how generous this ‘once a dreg’ Captain was. He didn’t want to push his luck.
Once everyone had taken or stored their ether Braldos ordered them to go out and hunt for food. Anything. Flying creatures. Crawling creatures. Climbing creatures. But there was a human settlement nearby they were to stay away from no matter how easy the prey appeared. A Lightbearer protected that settlement and without Preksik around around they were no match for a true Lightbearer. Veksis hated the Lightbearer without even seeing them but would obey Braldos’ order. It was because of these ‘Lightbearers’ that their Great Machine was broken, withered from its old being, falling apart into scattered pieces across this stupid planet.
Viksis had not had to hunt in a very long time. At least not for food. That was, of course, a job for dregs, and Viksis had not been one since he’d joined Teksik’s crew. Because of his mother’s connections he’d been able to join almost as a vandal. He tried not to remember that Teksik’s brother was the reason for such special treatment. He didn’t even wish to remember his name. But even the lowest vandal had to sometimes hunt, or at least keep an eye on the dregs, make sure they didn’t wander off or dawdle in their orders. So he was surprised when Braldos didn’t follow them. She stayed behind to tend to the servitor.
Viksis found himself a good vantage at the top of a hill to see a larger area of the woods. Out of eyesight he could see the thin trails of smoke in the sky of the human settlement a long ways off. He’d stay well away from there. He perched on a fallen tree, holding the hilt of his knife in one hand. It was so cold out here alone. His breath was cold. The snow was already starting to melt. Winter was coming but it wasn’t here yet, many trees still had leaves. This was just the first snow of the season.
He spun to the side when something jumped onto the log with him, knife out.
It was a strange creature. Not like the ones he’d seen before with long fur the color of the autumn leaves, brilliantly orange. It had a round face and big furry cheeks with pert triangular ears and whiskers sticking off its face and above its eyes. It was four legged with fur covered feet and was long and agile looking with a fat fluffy tail. Viksis looked into its yellow eyes and hesitated.
“Mew!”
The noise startled him. He’d never heard a furred creature here on Earth make a sound like that.
“Meew!” the creature cried at him. It almost sounded like a crying baby. Was it crying? Was it sad or hurt? That was usually why babies cried wasn’t it? That or hungry. “Meow!”
“I don’t have food. You are food,” Viksis said, holding the knife threatenly at the creature. The creature didn’t seem disturbed at all. It sniffed at the edge of the knife curiously and took a few steps forward before running its head against the back of his knuckles.
It was so soft!
Viksis had never felt something so soft.
He lowered the knife and hesitantly before reaching out carefully to touch the rest of the creature’s fur. It was also soft! Oh it was very soft and its thick fur was warm. He gently pet the creature on the back of its shoulders and top of its head. It sat right in front of him contently. Then it began to make a noise.
“You make the same noise I do,” Viksis said and purred back at it. The creature was confused for a moment but then decided the noise was fine and went back to its own purring. Viksis pet the creature a bit more before it got up, rubbed its body across his arm, and then hopped off the log. “Oh, goodbye then. Thank you,” he wasn’t sure what he was thanking it for. It couldn’t understand him either. He did think about going after it but he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he did. He should have killed it. It was food, meat. But it seemed wrong to. It was such a nice and soft thing that made a pleasant purring noise when you pet it.
He stayed out there a while longer, long enough to have to change out his ether canister, before looking up as a skiff flew low overhead. He picked himself up off the log and went back to the grotto. The skiff had landed heavily inside. He wasn’t the only dreg who’d come back curious to see the skiff.
It was worse than Viksis thought. Teksik had given Preksik a pile of junk. The outer metal was shot to Riis and back, the turret was broken, and the drop gear was twisted and mangled by Light burn. It was certainly a mess. It was a miracle it could fly at all! Preksik didn’t seem upset with it though. He was already talking about how they were going to repair it. Apparently Frytkis could fix it, or sort of fix it, but they’d need help. But flying it was another thing entirely.
“Do any of you have skiff experience?” Preksik asked the dregs who’d come back from hunting, some empty handed, some with a bird or a scurrying creature. Viksis reluctantly raised his hand. He had hoped to remain unnoticed in the crew at first until he could meet the rest of them. But when your Captain asked something of you you responded. “And what is it?”
“I’ve flown a skiff,” he said. Everyone looked at him, shocked. A skiff pilot turned dreg? He must have done something very bad to earn Teksik’s ire like that. He nervously wrung his hands, his docked arms wiggling anxiously, trying to do the same as his main set.
“Really?” Preksik didn’t quite believe him.
“Yes, Captain. Achsis’ honor I have.”
Preksik eyed him less suspiciously. One did not swear on a Prime’s honor and tell a lie. “Do you have knowledge of other things with the skiff?”
“Some, I suppose,” he said, still wringing his hands. He hated everyone looking at him, every eye in the grotto trained right on him.
“Hmm. Then you will assist Frytkis in fixing our new skiff,” Preksik said.
“Of course, Captain,” he bowed his head.
“You all, back to work, leave your catches with Braldos,” Preksik ordered the dregs. They quickly did as ordered and skittered away. “Atryrlis go make sure the others are safe and not lazing about,” he added to one of his vandals. They nodded and left the grotto.
Frytkis came up to Viksis, they were a skinny vandal with a dark carapace where Viksis could see, and hardly bigger than a dreg. Maybe they’d recently been a dreg themselves? They were certainly smaller than the other vandals. Or maybe they were just little. Who knew. They eyed Viksis with suspicion now that the grouping had cleared out and Preksik was further examining the skiff. “Who’s crew do you belong to, dreg?” Frytkis asked, his voice surprisingly deep and threatening for such a small vandal.
“Preksik’s,” he said, cowering. “Better than Teksik’s by far. She gave him a bad skiff. Look at it,” he motioned to it with his lower arm, he looked down at it then made the same motion with his upper arm.
“Don’t say that too loud, Preksik is happy,” Frytkis scolded him. “If captain is happy about skiff, so are we.”
“Can’t believe that bucket of bullets can even fly,” he muttered.
Frytkis hesitated then, “It was a… rough flight,” he agreed. “Now you, come with me,” and Viksis didn’t have a choice even if he wanted when Frytkis grabbed him by the back of the neck and marched him into the skiff.
The inside was better. Things seemed to be in working order in the cockpit. Frytkis shoved him into the flying seat. He looked at all the screens and readouts and flashing lights. Oh Whirlwind, there were so many flashing lights. “Well, as I’m sure you can guess; it’s bad.”
“Fixable? Also,” Frytkis pressed a button. An alarm immediately sounded. “We figured how to make it be silent, not shut off.”
“That’s for the power supply-” Viksis crawled out of his seat and then up the ladder on the wall into a hatch in the ceiling.
“Viksis, what’s the matter with the supplier?” Frytkis called after him.
Dregs were the ones who could fit up here. Luckily Viksis could now. The power supply was a spinning canister full of ether and some other material made by sevitors. It generated a power electromagnetic field that was siphoned by a power spindle and used to power the skiff and a lot of other eliksni technology. Normally it spun perfectly flat. But a bolt had been shot off from a previous attack and hit the canister so it was spinning on a tilted axis.
Viksis snatched the canister from the power spindle. A hole had been torn in one side. That was why it was spinning on an axis. Immediately the skiff powered down, the idling engines going dead.
“Viksis! What did you do!?” Frytkis yelled up into the hatch.
Viksis slowly crawled back to the hatch in the cramped space. “It was going to explode,” he said, showing the canister. He climbed down just as Preksik came into the cockpit, saw Viksis and the next moment he was against the wall by the throat, a horrible grinding noise coming from Preksik’s mouth.
“What did you do to my skiff?”
“N-nothing!” Viksis gasped, grabbing onto Preksik’s wrist, legs kicking useless in the air. “Teksik- she-” he gasped for ether.
“Preksik, the power supply was broken,” Frytkis said, drawing the Captain’s attention away from the squirming dreg in his grasp. He looked down and Frytkis had the canister. “That was what was making the alarm sound. Viksis was keeping it from going critical.”
Preksik looked at Viksis still struggling to breathe, big hand around his throat. His grip relaxed and he gently set Viksis down. He gasped and curled into a ball on the floor, hiding his head and tucking in his neck in case Preksik was still angry. He was mercifully ignored. “Can it be fixed?” his Captain asked Frytkis.
“It will need to be replaced. One does not fix a broken supplier.”
“Can you do that?”
“I will need to find or remake the canister. Achsis will be able to supply the components that go inside.”
“Good. How bad could this have been?”
“Teksik hoped we’d blow up mid flight. She knew it was unstable.” Preksik snarled wordlessly and punched the wall above Viksis’ cowering form. “It will still be warmer in the skiff than the grotto tonight,” they said helpfully.
“Yes,” he looked down at Viksis. Viksis looked away trying to make himself invisible. “You did a good job catching such a thing. We could have died,” and then he left.
Viksis slowly raised his head. “He didn’t hit me,” he said, surprised. Or rip another one of his arms off. Teksik liked to dock a third arm off dregs who made her angry and wait for them to grow it back before punishing them further.
“Preksik doesn’t hit. Though you did upset him. I’ve only seen him do that to an old crewmate when he was second in command. Are you alright?”
“I think so?” Viksis got up slowly. He was surprised when Frytkis came over and patted him down, made sure his canister was still properly hooked up and no tubes had been ruptured.
“Preksik good captain. He’ll feel bad about it tonight. Lucky you,” Frytkis said.
“Feel bad about it?” That didn’t make any sense to him.
Frytkis didn’t elaborate. “What else is wrong?” and they put Viksis back in the pilot seat. There was still back up electrical power for the most vital equipment in the cockpit like the screens and damage control.
“Most of it- ow!” Frytkis smacked the back of his head.
“Tell me only true things,” Frytkis hissed.
“Well it’s a lot,” Viksis slumped in the chair. “Gyrostabilizer is broken, turret is busted, no NLS, no drop anchor capabilities, flight stabilizers are twisted, there’s significant damage to the hull, it might not ever be space worthy, or even upper atmosphere worthy without proper breathing equipment,” he said, looking at each blinking light in turn.
Frytkis sighed, they had so much ether in their lungs that it came out as a blue wisp. That was a lot of ether, even for a vandal. Did Preksik know how much he was giving everyone? Did he care? “Lot of work for the winter. You ever fix anything?”
“No.” Frytkis made an annoyed noise.
“We will start scavenging in the morning. You can leave,” they said. Viksis gladly left.
More time than he thought had passed. The dregs had returned with food. Viksis was secretly relieved there was no fluffy orange creature in the pile of dead creatures. He went over to go help with preparations at the end of the grotto. This he did know how to do. The dregs looked at him when he came up. “You useful?” one asked.
“Viksis is useful.”
“Good,” a small furred creature was thrust at him. “This one small like you. Bring back to Deknir when you’re done,” and that was that. Viksis assumed the dreg was Deknir.
Another dreg was plucking the feathers off a fat dead bird of some sort where Viksis found a good rock to do his work. By the dried blood on it it had been used before for the same purpose. He fumbled his knife, trying to reach for it with a hand he didn’t have. The dreg plucking the birb paused. “You get used to two hands,” he said.
“It’s… new,” Viksis said.
The dreg came over and pulled the knife out of his belt. “Skolas,” he said.
“Sorry,” Viksis took his knife from Skolas.
“Was Skolas before the Kell went mad,” he shrugged and squatted next to Viksis, going back to plucking his bird.
“Viksis,” he said.
“Sorry,” Skolas said. Viksis grimaced. So his namesake was known even here. Skolas looked back at the rest of the crew. “Don’t think anyone else knows. Preksik doesn’t. My old crew was taken by them. That’s why I know.”
Viksis sighed. “Sounds right.” He cut open the guts of the creature and cleaned it out, keeping some of the good bits. Heart, liver, the two strange organs along its back Viksis knew tasted good but he had no name for. The rest went into a bucket that would be dumped into the forest before sleep that night.
“You’re good at that,” Skolas said as he skinned the creature to get the inedible fur off.
“Only thing I could do before I joined this crew was prepare food,” he said.
“Tekas said you said you could fly?”
“With four arms,” he moved the stumps of his docked limbs up and down.
“Ohhh. Sorry,” he looked away.
They finished cleaning their creatures in silence before returning them to Deknir. Skolas was given another one, Viksis was not. There was just nothing else to do. He still joined Skolas as he cleaned the next creature, a warm body in the cold. A small fire was made in the grotto when Skolas returned with his cleaned creature. “Viksis throw out the rest,” Deknir said, dismissing him. Viksis went back to where he and Skolas had been and picked up the bucket and crawled, very carefully, out of the grotto. It was difficult work with only two arms. Had he still four it would have been effortless. Three hands to climb and one to hold the bucket. He almost spilled it a few times.
He walked a ways off once he was above the grotto. The sun was setting and any warmth from the sun was already leeching away. At least all the snow was gone. He wrapped an arm around himself as he walked to find a place to throw all the guts they didn’t want. He eventually found a depression in the woods and dumped it in there. It must have been a common place to dump their spoils as several creatures immediately darted out of a bush to grab an organ and run off again.
Viksis squatted down out of the way and watched for a short while. Better than the grotto where no one wanted anything to do with him. As he squatted there the fluffy orange creature appeared. He gasped softly. There was another creature just like it with it! This one was brown.
He tried to mimic the sound it had first made. It came out guttural and startled them both. No no. He hadn’t wanted to scare them.He made the other noise, purring loudly. Their fur stood down and they sniffed at him, approaching cautiously. He just held still like he had earlier that day. The orange creature came right up to him and sniffed his hand then rubbed it against his palm. He gently pet it on the head. It purred happily. The brown creature didn’t have quite as fluffy cheeks as the orange one but when it sniffed at him and then allowed him to pet it as well it was just as soft.
Viksis sat and the creatures were not afraid of him. The orange one stepped lightly into the space between his crossed legs and sniffed at his masked face, whiskers tickling his face. He giggled. These were very cute and sweet creatures. He was glad they weren’t going to be food.
Thinking of, his stomach growled. He realized how hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten all day. Which was fine. But now he was getting hungry. “Thank you,” he told the sweet orange, and brown creatures. “Please be careful here. I wouldn’t want to have to eat you,” and he pet them a few more times before he got up. He grabbed the bucket and left.
“Mrow!”
“Mreow!”
He turned at their little chirping cries. “No no, stay,” he put his hand out when they followed him. Their tails were high, the ends twitching. He continued on. They followed for a few more feet before flopping down into the fallen leaf litter. The brown one almost completely disappeared.
Viksis climbed back down into the grotto. He smelled cooking meat. His stomach rumbled again. He was very glad eliksni only needed to eat once a day. He saw how much humans had to eat and it was just nauseating . How did they fit so much food into their stomachs? And then go about their days with a stomach full of food that weighed them down? Humans were so bizarre.
He waited for his share. As Captain Preksik got first, and the most. Then the vandals, with Braldos getting the next biggest portion. The dregs weren’t left to scrap it out. Yskivros divided everything equally so every dreg got the same amount which was more than Viksis ever got while part of his last crew. The rest was saved, to be flash frozen for when winter came. Viksis hadn’t been around for the fire last night, him following Preksik in the dark back to the grotto. It felt nice by the fire. He was surprised when Skolas came and sat next to him. He didn’t talk but that was okay.
He looked over where Preksik was talking with his vandals between each bite of food. They were too far to hear but they were nodding along with what he was saying. Then the food was all eaten and Preksik got up and went to handle the servitor. Viksis looked away. You weren’t supposed to know how a servitor made ether. They all heard the soft hissing it made.
“Braldos said we were sleeping in the ship tonight. Should be warmer,” Skolas said.
“It’s unpowered. But our warmth should make it better than sleeping on rocks,” Viksis said and Skolas snickered, his mandibles clicking against his teeth in amusement.
“I prefer it over rocks, yes,” Skolas nodded.
They both looked up when Prekisk’s big form came overhead. He handed Skolas his rationed ether and he immediately swapped it out. Then he handed Viksis two . He blinked across his head a few times in confusion. Two canisters? Prekisk didn’t say anything about it, he just moved on to handing out ether to the rest of the dregs.
“What’d you get two for?” Skolas asked, impressed.
“I don’t- oh,” he remembered. Frytkis said it earlier. Prekisk would feel bad about what he’d done later; lucky him. Two canisters rations was lucky for a dreg. He had one now and one as backup, an extra. He tucked it away with his almost empty one. In case he needed it. Hopefully he wouldn’t.
“Oh?”
“Never you mind.”
“Crew,” Prekisk announced, standing behind the fire. All chatter ceased and they turned to look at him. “Tomorrow we are going to an ancient human ruin. There we may find parts to fix our skiff. Everyone is coming. Make sure your weapons are charged as I do not know what we may find there.”
“The Lightbearer doesn’t leave the human settlement,” one dreg said.
“Humans and Lightbearers are very protective of their ancestors junk and may still protect it. Weapons, ready,” he said sternly.
“Aye Captain,” they all said.
“That is all for tonight. We will be rested in the morning,” and that was the end. Prekisk left the fire.
Some talk lingered around with the dregs who sat almost too close, trying to keep warm, everyone making sure their weapons were charged as ordered. Night fell, the fire burned low. Everyone went into the ship, knowing that it would be warmer in there. Or at least be out of the wind and elements. A skiff was not meant to be a sleeping arrangement for a crew and in the cabin there was only so much room while also maintaining social boundaries. Like that Preksik was given enough space to sleep on his own and the vandals had the room they needed or wanted to sleep alone or together. Preksik had already chosen his position. Sleeping sitting up, his furred coat and cape wrapped around him warmly. It was hard to tell if he was already sleeping. Everyone stayed quiet just to be on the safe side.
Viksis quickly got over the awkwardness of not knowing the other dregs very well or they him because there was only so much room left for them. They ended up almost piled on top of each other but that was probably the best. It was much warmer in a pile of dregs than sleeping alone. From the pile all curled up on themselves a few of the dregs purred contently, warmed and comforted by all the other eliksni around. Viksis was surprised when Skolas curled up next to him, snuggling up against him. Viksis liked that. It was nice to sleep in a dreg pile. That was the one thing he’d figured out since getting his arms docked, the higher in the castes you were the more lonely it was at night. He slept peacefully.