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"No. You really can't." Qhix quirks a frosty-white brow and leans a hip against the counter lining the wall on the opposite side of the room. "Your sivot nearly got you killed."
"Protecting Cora," I simply state. "Which is the sole purpose of the sivot transformation."
"Something that hasn't occurred with any other Kaul males for as long as any of us can remember." Qhix narrows eyes on me. "Why do you think it's happening now and with a female not of our species?"
I scrub my hands down my face wondering the same. "I have no answer."
"Can I ask what you think triggered your beast to emerge?"
"I had just been shot by an escaping Nomadican and was lying in a puddle of my own blood when Cora came upon me in the exit corridor outside the arena on Onis," I smirk, recalling how adorably fierce my little starfire looked wielding an electro-rod.
“The same Nomadican who stole your ship?” Qhix sits forward. His cool, blue gaze sparkling with curiosity, and I wish I had kept the misfortunate incident to myself.
"One and the same.” I brush aside Qhix’s interest with a casual swipe of my hand. “Anyway, the little human demanded I fly her away from the prison. The guards were about to enter at one end when the Nomadican used a tritus surge to kill the power, trapping us inside the corridor.
“I can't explain it, but something came over me knowing the guards would see the warden's collar around her throat and take her from me. I just remember being swept up in an overwhelming need to protect her and there was no way out except through a solid metalloid door with a dead locking mechanism. Before I knew what was happening, I morphed into my sivot. With a single-minded determination to save her, I shredded the metalloid door with my claws, snatched her up, and flew her off Onis in the Moktian craft I sold to Warden Hyt."
"When he figures out it was you who stole his property, he will put a bounty on your head."
"No doubt. Can you imagine the bounty if he knows I have Cora? She was his coveted pet."
Qhix whistles low. "I imagine you don't plan on giving her back to Warden Hyt."
"Blike no!" I growl. "The warden will never so much as lay a finger on her again. She belongs to me!"
Qhix goes still. "How's that going to work out for you when you return her to Earth?"
I scowl at Qhix who seems to know far too much.
"You knotted her," he states.
"You know nothing, Qhix!" I hiss, hating that he can see right through me.
"I don't need to witness the act to see the deed written all over your face, brother," Qhix retorts dryly. "You've mated her in the tradition of the Kaul, and you plan to just let her go?"
"It is not as simple as that, Qhix, and well you know it." I plow my fingers through matted hair and give it a hard tug. "I will honor the bargain I made and return her to Earth."
"And when she finds out you've claimed her as your mate?" Qhix presses.
"It was not supposed to have happened," I counter.
"Yet it did," Qhix says softly. "What if she already carries your offspring?"
"She is human. Our species are not compatible."
"How sure are you about that, Navik? To my knowledge, no Kaul has ever spilled his mating seed inside a human's womb."
The door to the cleanroom glides open and Cora steps out, pausing as she notices the two of us intently watching her.
"Am I interrupting something?" she shares a look between Qhix and I.
"No," Qhix is quick to answer, pushing off the counter. "Nothing that Navik won't fill you in on, I'm sure. The hauler is loaded with your share of the Moktian tech and your sack of tellic. I'll drive you over to your ship. Meet me in the cargo hold when you're ready to leave."
"What was that all about?" Cora turns a wary eye on me. "What will you be filling me in on?"
"We can talk on the way to Etto," I dodge her questions and hand her a pair of boots, hating that ill-fitting garments are all I have to offer her. I'm richer than I've ever been in my life. My starfire shouldn't be wearing rags but garbed in the finest silks tellic can buy. "Qhix brought you these. I need a turn in the purifier before we leave."
Without waiting for her response, I step into the cleanroom and shed what's left of my clothing after the exposure to the acid air. I catch sight of myself in the reflection panel over the wall basin and curse my sivot. My hair, once cut to the center of my back, is singed in matted tufts that brush my shoulders, the medical cuff only having regrown some of the length while it healed my body.
