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Tharacenk Qorinth glared at the pool of blood congealing on the floor, his upper set of arms crossed over his chest

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Tharacenk Qorinth glared at the pool of blood congealing on the floor, his upper set of arms crossed over his chest. Two eyes scanned the room, searching for the flickering heat signatures of any remaining Nisseri. The last he saw of the human female Macbeth, she was bleeding out from a gut shot, the Theros looming over her. What did that overgrown fish -snake want with the human? From his painfully limited intel of the water dwelling race, he knew they were not carnivorous. Did it mean to help the woman? The wound was brutal but the female wasn't beyond his ability to save, especially with access to the Nisseri equipment. If the Theros dragged her off somewhere, she would likely die before he found her. Frustration welled. There was too much blood spattered everywhere to pick out the human female's scent.

A heavily shrouded Nisseri darted out from beneath a tech station, making a desperate dash for the hall. The path would take the poor creature right past him. He didn't move, tracking two human slaves as they launched onto the fleeing Nisseri, bludgeoning their catch with pieces of torn ship rails. Their faces lit with savage glee as they beat the Nisseri to a bloody pulp. Their violence made his fur itch, a quiet rage simmering under his skin. Would they have held back if they knew their victim was a young female? Judging by the vacancy in their eyes, these men had the compassion tortured out of them. Korthos take those Pathosians and their wretched slavery! This mission made him shed from stress.

This was meant to be a multi stage infiltration, going in as a slave in order to slip undetected through the auction market as an unknown Merc. He burned through dozens of contacts to get himself onto one of those horrible ships, only to have the Pathosian slaver take one look at him and gas him. He woke up here, in specially made cuffs, two years of preparation wasted because those sex crazed idiots found his race unappealing as house pets. He warned Command this would happen, but they insisted he try, since they failed to sneak an agent in any other way.

"Thrack?" His upper eyes focused on the mouthy parbreed beside him, sadly still breathing. This one would become a problem soon. Thrack might have to snap his neck. "What are you orders, sir?"

He grimaced at the question, noting the sneering challenge in the man's tone. Leading a bloody coup was not how he planned to break out of the Nisseri hold, but when the female managed to free herself, he quickly opted for the plan. He didn't realize how far gone from reason his fellow prisoners would be. They might continue to listen to him if he only he kept the female at his side. She had a cold intelligence he admired, but she and the Theros had vanished. Thrack huffed, eyeing the bodies of the Nisseri. The Blight had a firm foothold on this ship, despite the violence of their deaths it was truly an act of mercy.

"We need to secure the engine room before they realize control has been taken. They might sabotage the ship. We can use the hold for prisoners-"

The parbreed interrupted him, tightening his grip on a bloodied stun stick. "That won't be necessary."

Thrack didn't pause, feeling the parbreed's wild eyes on him. "They are already dying; forcing them into the hold will simply lessen the work of disposing of their bodies." It was a half-truth, but smooth enough to loosen the man's grip on his weapon.

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