As they watched the screen, Talia emerged out of the mouth of the mine, as the last miner. The people thronged around him cheering and calling his name.
“Talia! Talia! Talia!” they chanted as they carried him to the stage where the commandant and the press were waiting. The commandant was wearing his best uniform and all of his medals. He raised his arm. He pointed to Talia with a grand flourish, "Here, ladies an' gentlemen, is our hero."
Immediately, the news hawks pressed forward around the miner, ignoring the Commandant and fired questions at Talia so fast that he could only answer a few. They weren't interested in some back water commandant. They wanted to file this story and get out of this heat.
"What's yer name, sir?"
"Talia Xerod."
"Where are ya from..."
"Ssarreess II..."
"How bad was it..."
"Azzz bad azzzz I have ever ssseen it..."
"Is everyone out..."
"I hope sso..."
The commandant was furious. Yet again, he had lost control of the press conference and he didn't like it. He tried to regain control, "Peepo! Peepo! Please have some respect! One at a time, now, our hero is tired."
Talia sat back on his tail. He wiped at the layers of grime on his face. He was tired. He had been up for almost four days straight. Ssarrians are humble and praise truth. He raised his arms for quiet, "Ziss iz not right! Follow me...". He jumped down from the dais. The stunned commandant just watched as the crowd and the news hawk crews charged off after Talia.
Walking up to Zeer, Talia reached up and put his hand on the larger man’s shoulder and said, "Here iz our real hero. He organized all of these different teams that you zee. He prayed wizz us and for uss, giving uss sstrength to carry on when we made sso little progresss. I give you, Brozzer Roan Taflick, of the Society of the Holy Word, hero of Emeswan."
Preacher Man Page 12