Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

THREXIN

W hen he found Silarra's residence, Threxin was displeased to see a human corpse sprawled inside her enviously small cabin.

"He got a little excited," Silarra shrugged when Threxin directed his glare at her. "And then I got a little excited."

" Excited? " Threxin snapped. "Is your limiter malfunctioning?"

She shifted from one foot to another. "No…"

"Then what do you mean by excited, and why is there a dead human on your floor?"

"I thought I'd have just one last taste. He wanted it so much?—"

"Silarra…" Threxin rumbled.

"I knew he was already gone. Addicted. You were going to dispose of him anyway at that point. It made logical sense that it would make no difference to have one final taste."

That was true.

"And the killing?"

"He tried for more. I hit him and overshot. They are fragile."

Threxin flattened the spikes at the back of his neck with a palm as irritation was dulled by limiter intervention .

"Have Renza aid you in bringing it to the medical bay. Then get down to the CRD to help remove the bodies. We may as well dissect this one for research now that we have it. But no human sees this."

"Maybe they should see," Silarra suggested.

"Maybe you are in no position to offer lesson suggestions right now, Silarra."

The amused flicker in her silver eyes made Threxin bristle.

"Have it at the medical bay within the ship hour," he repeated. "And stay away from humans."

She pouted in that annoying gesture that would surely work on Renza, but never on him.

Human entrails were thoroughly uninteresting, but samples could still be useful. Threxin was more curious about their technology. He had not deemed it necessary to begin human studies yet, though his medics were already growing excited for brains to reverse engineer Colossal's advanced Neurosync technology.

After observing the dissection and sampling at the medical bay, Threxin took time exploring the blood passages of his Clossal . Or C-OH-lossal , as the humans pronounced it.

The scent of Orion Halen and his female was ever-present in the nooks and crannies of this place—a private network intertwined with the ship's public spaces. It mostly reeked of Orion, just the presence of him traversing the ship. But some parts were tinged with something more carnal: fear mingled with excitement. Remnants of bitter sweat in the musty air revealed the female as well.

What had Orion Halen done to his female in the secret confines of these ways? Judging by the scent, it terrified her. Yet outside of the passages, she seemed completely attuned and attached to him. Of course exorin addiction would do that. Orion's female could be afraid for her life and still she'd beg for more.

Some passages were more used than others, and one in particular had a fresh scent trail. From Threxin's memory of the public halls, the passage led between the commander's residential wing and the medicinal area. Threxin's human-kin and his pet were frequenting the medical bay, and often.

It was difficult to distinguish the states of humans, but he was not sure the blue hues beneath Orion's female's eyes or the grayish-yellow of her skin were entirely normal. It should not have been the exorin addiction, as she presumably had a steady supply from her master. Was she ill? If so, Colossal's advanced technology should be able to cure whatever it was… And if it was indeed incurable, was it contagious? Maybe she would die soon and eliminate the problem of her petulance.

Threxin pondered these things outside the door, but he did not open it. Their scent was fresh here, suggesting they could be on the other side… And he was not yet ready to reveal that he was on their trail.

He continued his exploration for a few more ticks, traversing new twists and turns and committing them to memory, before deciding to return to the command center and check on how the riot body disposal was going.

Shoq, too much had happened that day. The riot on the resident deck, Silarra's petulance and his cohort's fraternization with humans, and Orion Halen's suspicious scent trails.

Upon exiting the blood passage Threxin had been so distracted by all the cogwheels he had to mind, that he did not see the blow coming until heat shot through the left side of his chest.

Threxin's talons slashed at the human's throat before he could even think. It hadn't had time to make a sound as its trachea was crushed in his grip, draining the life from its eyes. Threxin keeled over once that was done, falling forward beside the twitching body of his attacker. He gripped the weapon inside him, clutching it against his chest to keep it stable in the wound. It was no use—the thing was but a bladeless hilt now, falling away from him. Blood gushed from his chest. Clots of it sprayed from his mouth and nose when he coughed. He would not make it anywhere like this.

Threxin smashed a palm to the wound and twisted his head up from the floor, grasping for a plan of action. The limiter was whirring in overdrive, fighting to keep him calm as he assessed.

There was but one cabin nearby whose occupant he was vaguely familiar with close enough to maybe make it, and the occupant was not one of his.

Shoq.

He had no choice.

It took far too many ticks to reach her door at a torturous half-crawl. A trail of red-black marked his passage. Outside, Threxin grasped for the wall in several attempts to reach for the gene sampler that would force it open. Finally slamming his spare hand to the thing, he waited an eternity for the sampler to do its work.

When the door slid open, he collapsed through it directly. The last thing he heard was a scream. The last thing he saw was a burst of color, followed by a white-rimmed pair of brown eyes gaping down at him. The last thing he spoke, an instruction he knew the human was more likely to ignore than follow: "Fetch my brother. Now."

The last thing Threxin thought was, I am going to kill them all.