“If we burn the Fires of Supplication any longer, it will create critical strain on the air-recirculation system, High Chieftain.” The title was spoken with no attempt to mask the scorn that Elder Talifrakamaru felt.
Kashalamagra grinned. “Make up your mind then, Honored Elder.” He knew his tone would convey his true feelings. “Just a ship’s day ago you said the fires must be maintained or we would be forever lost amongst the storms of the stars. Which is it to be then?”
The old man scowled openly. “My wisdom is wasted on you. The storms have not passed. The storms will never pass until the Great Father feels we have suffered enough for the misdeeds of our people. The key is in knowing when the storm must be challenged and when submitted to.”
“That is, as it has forever been MY decision alone to make. The fires will be quenched when we have confirmed our new heading. We need more time and you will pass that time either in silence or in the brig. That decision is yours to make. Now, leave me be!”
The old man tottered away knowing this boy would be the death of him, yet.