Khar
“Arthropodal Dak’ri are tall among IMPERIUM species but average only half the usual body mass. They reproduce rapidly and are widespread in every corner of known space; because of their short lifespans, they typically fill roles requiring little experience or specialization.”
IMPERIUM Guide to Peaceful Coexistence with Registered Spacefaring Species
Khar had finally learned what it meant to be a lesser Divani.
Living in fear of challenges.
Dreading those stronger than you.
Keeping to the shadows.
Listening for footsteps.
Holding your tongue.
Preparing for a fight you would almost certainly lose.
Losing was shameful.
Running was impossible.
That was not the Divani way.
And maybe Khar was no longer the strongest being in his world,
but he was still Divani.
Even if it killed him.
So he prepared.
He trained.
Even his sleep belonged to the fight.
As soon as his work on Vitro ended, he went straight to the sparring floor. At first he used the station gym too, but afterrunning into Lily there a second time he decided that was too dangerous.
Lily was everywhere. On Vitro. In the gym. In his dreams.
His sleeping mind conjured them fighting in the dust. She hooked his ankle, launched herself at his throat, and with those tiny, laughable claws that would have made a Divani child snort, she ripped open his neck and laughed with that thin voice that froze his blood.
Khar knew Lily’s claws could hurt. He had seen her, when no laser cutter was available, strip insulation from wiring with those “stubby” human hands so she could repair damage some pest had chewed into the system. Efficient, precise, relentless.
Another night they were on the ship’s upper deck in the dream. He had her pinned, fingers tightening around that small, fragile-looking neck, when she grabbed a nearby fluid canister and doused them both. The cleanser burned his skin at once. On her pale, immaculate skin it simply beaded and ran in clear streams while she laughed.
At least he knew where that nightmare had come from. Earlier that chrono-cycle Lily had used the biocide without protective gloves. It always stung Khar’s hide like liquid fire. He had kept quiet on purpose, wanting to see the Usurper suffer.
Her skin flushed a little, then returned to its usual shade in minutes.
To make matters worse, he woke from both dreams stiff and throbbing, as if the humiliation pleased him.
Khar knew himself and his appetites. Among Divani, this kind of degeneracy did not fit anything he believed about who he was.
As if that were not enough, this cunning, enticing, lethally dangerous creature kept baiting him with her scent. Like the deadliest predator pretending to be easy prey, drawing the unsuspecting closer.
The thought of being snared by the human female sent Khar’s twin hearts racing.
