“Rishkill. Terra. Trainer.” Rygard kept his eyes lowered, watching Kaitlyn’s captain from the corner of his eye as Dev held his counterfeit wrist ident out for scanning. Instead of turning his wrist over for the scan, exposing the vulnerable underside, Dev held his arm out with his hand in a loose fist. To a casual onlooker, it’d seem Dev’s arm was extended to fullest length, but his elbow was soft and the captain had enough slack to pop a jab if need be. After a momentary clash of glares, the Sketz’es guard was forced to hold the scanner under Dev’s wrist to get the data. “Be dominant from the very beginning,” Bharguest had warned Dev before they’d arrived. “No one will believe you could train all of us otherwise. Every move, every gesture is a pissing contest.” Dev was playing out the game exactly as their guide instructed and the guard responded with stiff posture, dropped gaze and reptilian tail curled low between his legs.
