Mina and Long have navigated through the service tunnels. They both gunned down a single bug that was exploring the tunnels and quickly fled down a connecting tunnel. Mina knows they don't have many bullets left between them. She has maybe a whole magazine left –about 50 bullets for her hybrid rifle- and she suspects Long has two spares, but isn't sure.

The two are following Grey's plan as it was for now. If all of the marines are headed to the hangar for the same victory by numbers ideal, then maybe they stand a chance. The roaches aren't altogether tough, even with their armor. There's just a LOT of them. And, reinforcements never seem to end.

The two young marines have to improvise as to how they're going to get there. This maintenance tunnel ends, and the hallways have a steady stream of bug traffic. The hangar bay is also about another hundred feet from where they are.

It's then that both the best and worst kind of terrible event occurs. The bugs are dragging humans by the door the girls are peeking out of.

One of those humans is Chief Petty Officer Alexander Grey.

The fact that he's alive alone is spirit lifting. Both girls were convinced that he explosively decompressed the room he was in by shooting through the hull. Instead, he must've shot the pressure sensor used to detect a hull rupture and slam doors shut around it. Next follows Fisher and the other marines that were with them.

Normally, Mina would never think of taking this chance. There are fourteen aliens, one to each marine that was there when Grey fell, minus Mina and Long. She doesn't have the ammo to simply spray and hope she hits them all, and she can't rely on Long. Long's not totally useless, but her hit ratio is not high. However, the aliens are distracted and marching along.

Her decision is reinforced when a VERY familiar female voice yells from up the hall ahead of them, "Let them go you disgusting bugs!"

Mina and Long both yelp, "Rena!?"

All three female marines whirl into the hall in near perfect sync. The bugs are genuinely startled that they're now surrounded. The three marines –Long following Mina's lead nicely- stay low and fire upwards, so that their friends are as safe as possible, given the hybrid rounds don't ricochet well.

Rena and Mina have always shared nearly one mind. They're twins. And, though they often see it as mundane and just another thing, their synchronicity is truly a gift at times. Now, they both instinctively start from their own left, firing on aliens in controlled bursts one at a time. Long's bursts are less seemingly choreographed, but aliens shot by neither twin fall alongside the others. Several aliens squeeze off muscle reflex shots, while only three of them are able to try and aim, but they all aimed at Rena, giving Mina and Long ample opening. Rena was smart enough to dive back into her cover.

With all hostiles down, the three regroup. Rena excitedly says, "How did you know I was here!?"

"Me? We were on our way to the hangar. How did YOU know WE were here?"

Rena replies smugly, "Pfft! 'Cause I'm a geniues, duh." Coincidence it was, then.

Rena asks Long, "You okay, Jess?"

Long nods nervously. She was present on the hull during humanity's first jump, but she didn't get a lot of time to shoot anything. It's easy to forget that this is her only real combat experience. Granted, the twins don't have much more, but they do, and they also have a lot more training.

Mina checks vitals on Grey, remarking quickly, "Good, he's alive. Let's try to get them all somewhere safe."

Rena asks, "You want to drag them all?"

"We can't leave them here."

"I know that, but there's no way we can carry everyone here."

Long interjects sheepishly, "Um... H-How come their eyes are open?"

The twins halt their debate and look. As Long said, the eyes of every single incapacitated marine are open about 50%ish, it seems, and they're watering. Rena remarks in horror, "Don't tell me they're still conscious..."

Long drops to her knees, saying desperately, "Chief! Chief Grey! All of you! We're here! We'll get all of you out of here! Stay with us!"

Mina asks rhetorically, "Why go to this trouble? How did they have such specific weapons to disable us while conscious?"

Rena murmurs, "I don't..." Before she can finish, a blast zips in, and Rena halts. She sinks to her knees, collapsing into Mina's arms. Mina screams, "RENA! CONTACT FORWARD!" Mina prays multiple shots aren't lethal or damaging. She doesn't mean to use Rena as a shield, but she prioritizes her weapon first, firing up the hall. With Rena laying on her, she's stuck, and though Rena's body takes several hits meant for Mina, it can only last so long.

Mina manages to gun down one alien and wing another. But, the inevitable occurs. She feels like a bat just hit her spine, even from the shot being in front of her. Her every nerve ending from the tips of her toes to the roots of her teeth tingle with a profound, dominant, and unyielding force to it. She almost feels like her whole body is numb from falling asleep, but also an ominous numbness like she's being stepped on. Her vision flickers only the once, and she can feel vertigo as her body falls backwards, though crouching saved her head. Once she's laying on the deck, she can't move or speak, but she can see Long in her current eyeline. The teen manages to narrowly avoid a shot, whimpering as she scoots back into the maintenance doorway on her backside. But, the door has a knee-knocker, about 3 inches of wall coming up from the floor to ensure the door seals. It's not nearly as tall as those on modern sea ships, but it's enough to halt Long's backwards scuttle.

Mina doubts Long was trying to abandon them. She just knows she needs to funnel the enemies. They were on both sides of her and have her definitely outnumbered. And, either way, if Mina could say anything, she would tell her to run. Long can't win. Not alone. No one could. And, she has one of the only surviving eggs of the Cave Queen. The timid young teen is curled against the corner, shielding something under her suit with her body as she shakily aims her rifle.

Mina watches helplessly –uselessly- as the insectoid aliens stop at the corners, readying to attack Long. Mina can only see their feet, but they are stacking up by how the two she can see are positioning themselves.

The helplessness is the worst part. She's watching as a good friend fearfully stands alone.

Until a crunch follows a loud clap that startles the bugs and pierces Mina's ears painfully. She can hear nothing but a ring now, and she's unable to even wince, let alone cover or nurse her ears. Her ear against the deck hears something strange though; the clap muffled somewhat and not deafening her ear entirely. She hears a shrill whine and a multitudinous drumbeat of something like footsteps, but more numerous than anyone else. Whatever the cause, the first pair of legs Mina could see collapse out of her view. Long is nervous, as she likely can't see anything either.

Mina's muffled ear to the deck can JUST make out shrieks of two different types of beings, calamitous thuds, the shrill blasts of the bugs' weapons, and crunching.

When the sounds finally subside is when Mina's hearing is just about recovered in her upward ear. She can hear a fairly familiar chirping-like noise. Long gasps in surprise, and Mina –who is startled but still can't do anything- feels her body lurch as it's suddenly wrapped by something long and slender, and then she's lifted effortlessly off of the deck. Their 'reinforcements' are instead a singular reinforcement –the Cave Queen-.

The squid-like alien turns Mina around, seemingly inspecting her, but her eyes are covered by a cloth. She presses Mina's chest gingerly to the two bulbous protrusions on her head for a moment. The Queen then relaxes, gently wrapping a tentacle around Mina's head.

Nothing happens for a moment, and the Queen chitters in confusion. Long approaches, tears streaming down her cheeks, "You saved us! Th-Thank you!"

The Queen smiles at Long, replying in her own voice, "Yeen. Buck,... Mina..." Long takes her helmet off, checking the area quickly before taking the Queen's 'hand' and placing it on her forehead. The Queen's tentacle almost instinctively coils Long's head, and Long says, "I... I think they're all okay... Um, mostly. They're alive, at least."

Long's tone shifts, and she says, "These weapons. I felt them before. These ones came to my world... before the solitude."

Long nods, "We think so, too. They look like the one we found."

"We must retreat. More are coming."

"C-Can we really hide forever, though? Th-this isn't your old nest."

"Not forever. We hide our allies, and then we repel nest pillagers."

The Queen releases Long, and with all but four of her tentacles, she lifts the marines –all but Long- to carry them. True, the ship is at a lower gravity, but Mina wouldn't be surprised if the Queen could lift them all on her own world, given the ease with which she lifts them now.

In any case, the Queen carefully carries everyone, squished together to fit down the hall. She has her Piezo weapon and carefully scans both directions. She doesn't work her way back to the nest, though. Instead, she navigates to the ship's reactor auxiliaries rooms, where they find startled watchstanders, civilians, and Navy spacers hiding out. They're surprised when they see the Queen, but none of them are armed. Likewise, Long and Mina are surprised to see so many people untouched. Long squeaks, "They... haven't found you?"

One of the spacers replies, "No. We don't know where else to go."

The Cave Queen says through Long, "The nest pillagers are avoiding this room. It is the only one that does not smell of them. And, I can hear them travel around it."

Surprised, Long asks, "You can hear that?"

The Queen nods, "Your metal carries noise well, and the air carries vibrations. We shall wait here and protect these ones." She sets the marines down gently out of the way, adding, "You should check them for injuries."

Long replies, "Right!" She's not skilled, but she checks everyone's pulses and looks for obvious wounds on them. She reassures each marine she checks on, clearly relieved and thankful for the Queen's presence.

Many thoughts occupy Mina's helplessly idle mind. Is the Queen immune to the alien weapons? How did she know to help them? Is the paralysis temporary?

One of Mina's questions is answered after what feels like an eternity –but is probably only a few minutes-. Fisher coughs. He then rasps out with a dry throat, "Dear God in heaven..." He then manages to joke, "Good news, everyone. Seems to be temporary... Still... Still can't move, but getting there."

Long instantly drops to his side, exclaiming, "Fisher! Oh thank God! I'm so happy you're okay! I-I'm sorry we left you! We wanted to..."

Fisher's raspy voice coughs and croaks out, "Don't worry about it, Long. 'No man left behind' doesn't quite work well with 'no man left standing'. Damn glad you showed up, though. You too, Cave Queen. Thank you."

The Queen smiles and nods. Soon enough, the downed marines are regaining control of their bodies. Mina, of course, is the last to recover, and Grey rasps out while she's still helpless, "I specifically told you two to keep moving."

Long squeaks, "We did, Chief! W-We stumbled across you."

He coughs hoarsely, retorting, "You interrupted my plan."

Fisher counters, catching his breath on his feet finally, "Your plan to be bug food?"

"To infiltrate their ship, obviously."

Fisher scoffs. Grey then smirks at Long, replying more gently, "Thanks for the save."

Long blushes, "I... I didn't do anything. M-Mina, Rena, and th-the Queen..."

Grey pats her shoulder, replying, "You did good. You fired at the bad guys. All I ask for." He then adds, "Hydrate, marines. We ain't in the clear yet."

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One of the hiding spacers asks, "You-you're not going back out there, are you?"

Grey replies sternly, "You think you can survive forever in here? Bugs ain't losing interest in the ships any time soon. Humanity as a whole has never had to fight or die before this year. It won't stop until we have a real military presence again. I'm not asking you to fight or die, but you better choose soon. Bug's are keen on taking that choice from us all."

The Queen says grimly through Long, "They will harvest all. They have no mercy."

Fisher checks his pistol, since their rifles were left behind by the roaches. He says darkly, "I got their mercy right here." He shoves the magazine back into the pistol as if to exemplify his point.

Long asks softly, "Is... the hangar bay still our plan, Chief?"

Grey nods, "Unless anyone has one better. And no, here is not. This will be our fallback. If bugs are avoiding here, it may be the only plan 'B' we're gonna get."

Some of the watchstanders and spacers step up, asking nervously, but with determination, "How can we help, Chief?"

***

Captain Angelica Long yells over gunfire, "TURRET ONE! TRANSFER MAGAZINE TO TURRETS TWO AND THREE!"

"Aye ma'am!" comes back. Everyone on the bridge is doing their best to keep the ship fighting as efficiently as possible, but the inevitable occurred. The door to the hallway is cut open, and the Zarakyssns are in a firefight with the handful of marines defending the bridge, which includes Dumas and the rookie French, who hoped Grey's team were headed to the bridge. Unfortunately, boarding repulsion –if anyone is left- has been in chaos. No one even knows if there are marines still fighting outside of the bridge. The guns are still firing, implying those positions are being held for now, but for all anyone knows, the Zarakyssns couldn't find the door.

Long peeks over the station edge of the terminal she's hiding behind. She quickly ducks back down as alien EMP-like shots zip by. She orders, "Come right Zero-Fife degrees! Hold angle!"

The Leehelm, now controlling both stations because the helmsman took a hit, calls back, "Y-Yes Captain!" The young man looks at the marine crouching with him. The marine is panting, but he nods.

The marine whirls up, firing bursts at the hallway. The Leehelm frantically darts around the panel to adjust steering quickly and dart back. The marine's weapon, of all things, takes a hit, and he's forced to toss it when it shocks him. He ducks in cover, drawing his pistol.

The ship rumbles with a deep, distant 'whoom'. Another space just vented. It's impossible to say if it's combat damage, or if marines are improvising to clear areas of the enemy boarders. All Long hears either way, though, is another hour's air supply vanishing in an instant. The plants on board can clean CO2-filled air and make it oxygen rich again, but they can't pressurize the ship. If they lose too much air, they won't be able to self-sustain anymore.

Of course, self-sustaining isn't looking very viable anymore. At this point, Long's just trying to keep humanity alive and out of the claws of yet another hostile conqueror.

It's all they can do just to do anything at all, though. The Zarakyssns have them trapped in the bridge, and they're slowly pressing in. They seem to have very little regard for their fallen, and they seem to move as one at times, reacting the exact same way to things such as explosions, ship tremors, and a marine popping up to fire. They jump, duck, and pivot sometimes so in sync, machines would be envious.

And, making matters as grim as they are, there are five marines on the bridge taking turns firing up the hall from behind panels and cabinets. That is, until Dumas takes a hit while he's reloading, sinking to the deck near-lifelessly. Someone calls out, "MAN DOWN!"

"I-I can't do this anymore! I can't!"

"Stow it, marine! You will!"

A singular gunshot precedes a scream, and Long winces. The third marine to speak, a Master Chief Petty Officer, spits, cursing, "Damn it!" Long doesn't need to look around. She knows. She calls out, "STAY ON TASK! WE NEED TO KEEP GOING!" It's as much for her as the young man screaming. But, like her, it doesn't really help him any. He keeps screaming in terror. A moment later, his voice croaks from tensing up, and he collapses.

Long looks at Dumas' gun. It's about ten feet from her, and sitting uselessly on the deck. She's not a soldier like the marines. Tactics are supposed to be her focus, confidence her foundation, and the enlisted around her, her sword and shield.

But, all she can think about are ancient sailing ships right now. Every last sailor was expected to swing a sword if it meant saving the ship, from the greenest of recruits to the saltiest of Captains. It wasn't pride or macho-dominance. It was necessity.

The Captain takes a deep breath. It's her last moment of pseudo-safety. She will resist to her dying breath, even if this very one is it.

The auburn-haired spacer dives from her cover, scrambling low on her stomach to Dumas' weapon. She grips it firmly, squirming into the cover he was using. She checks the weapon's breach for a round and turns, firing. She doesn't see what happens because her eyes close from the startlingly loud weapon report. But, there doesn't seem to be any fewer invaders. It's hard to tell, of course, with how many there are, as well as how many of their bodies already litter the floor.

And, Long has only fired a rifle in training. Her shot now was partially panic, partially intentional. She tries to focus better, firing in short bursts to conserve ammo. That bit she remembers. What she forgot was how much the barrel kicks up.

Meanwhile, a pair of Zarakyssns duck into the bridge, taking cover on opposite sides. One is right across the panel from the Leehelm.

Long focuses, waiting. As soon as that specific alien pops up, she squeezes the trigger. It throws itself back, but it's already too late. It collapses in a heap.

However, four active guns thundering rounds, dwindling ammo to dangerous levels, are not much by way of defense. Two more Zarakyssns tactfully press into the bridge, taking cover. Then three more. Master Chief calls out, "I'm out!"

French yelps back, "Me too!"

Long searches Dumas for a magazine. She finds one, calling, "Master Chief!" She tosses it to him. Just as he reaches to catch it, though, a golden bolt hits the back of his hand, and his hand balls into a fist, deflecting the magazine somewhere. He collapses like the others. Long winces.

French cries out, "No! No plea-ergh!" A shot incapacitates him as a Zarakyssn storms his position. It now can see Long as well. She quickly dives towards the front of the bridge to scramble to new cover.

Suddenly, a weight pins her leg painfully with a thud. She can still move, though, and thinking quickly, she lunges her full weight. She pulls the trigger almost without aiming. Her knee pops from her twisting against it. But, her shot wasn't completely off. She hit the alien's rifle, disabling it. The Zarakyssn glances at its weapon, which won't fire.

But, it is undeterred. If anything, it's angry. It shakes the weapon slightly, and a blade pops out. At least, Long HOPES it's only a blade. The Zarakyssn soldier standing on her leg spears the blade down through Long's left bicep, and she screams in pain. She tries to think, but she can't do anything. It has her pinned.

The bridge fills with other screams as metal is ripped apart. It sounds like the Zarakyssns have forced open the escape corridor. A singular thought crosses Long's mind. Is this the end?

All at once, she's freed when the Zarakyssn backs off of her. She rolls over, trying to scoot backwards as she watches its next move.

It's posture suggests terror –genuine, soul-crushing terror-. Long's back bumps something sooner than she thought. When she looks up, an instant fear grips her. It is an appropriate form for death to take; massive, looming, cold, calculating, and unyielding. Death is the most powerful force in the universe, and right now, this being radiates raw, untempered power. Blood of two different colors paints the image, some oozing from wounds that did nothing to slow him down. Metal shackles dangle from his wrists with wholly unholy strong chains discolored from strain where only one link of each yielded. One eye has a vertical pupil, and the other horizontal.

And even the Zarakyssns fear him.

***

Earlier, Dzor and Khla listen to the sounds. Dzor knows them very well. The Zarakyssn boarding ships are latching onto the human ship. They cut into the hull and leave behind a plasma door for other boarding vessels to follow more efficiently. Everything about the repulsive insectoid conquerors is swarm-mentality. They barrage the enemy with bodies until they are victorious. And, Zarakyssns have many bodies.

Dzor has battled the Zarakyssns several times during a territorial dispute. A fugitive from the Fievegal stole a ship full of colonists, and he fled to what was supposed to be neutral space. But, the Zarakyssns were harvesting the world already. Normally, the Fievegal would abandon the colonists. One small colony seed is rarely worth a fleet recovery. Though of course, Hearozhaas and their children get involved at times on their whims, changing the rules. This time, though, it was a tactical decision. The Fievegal's biggest advantage against the Zarakyssns is the fact that no Grodrrn has ever been captured by them. Zarakyssns aren't particularly good at espionage, but they are excellent at torture. Conversely, a legendary Grodrrn hero has stood at the back of the Zarakyssn's Queen of Queens with a blade to her neck, forcing her to declare and accept the truce with the Fievegal.

Stories of Mrrk'lah, the Siege-breaker, are what inspired a youthful Dzor to join the military.

Of course, the only reason Dzor knows the story to this day is because he begged his Chulm'chn to repeat it often. And, over the course of his life, Dzor witnessed something only Long's mind has opened him to.

The story of Mrrk'lah changed. The Fievegal's written history says that Mrrk'lah was always a Hearoczhaa all along, and never in the military. Few Grodrrns idolized him as Dzor did, so he accepted that he must've heard a skewed version, and he settled into his military career as it was. But, he still sometimes dreamt of more.

But, Captain Long, the tiny frail mammal, has described things that were taking place on Earth. These things involve the destruction or rewriting of history, the division of humans by subtleties to distract them, and strangely strict responses to 'crises' that didn't warrant the heaviest possible response when an appropriate response existed.

And, it all resonates with the tiny doubt ever-present in any Grodrrn's –and in this case, Dzor's- mind. Grodrrns do not ask why about their orders. They do not question the events out of sight. They carry out their duties. Period.

Dzor's ship is destroyed. His crew has spiritually turned against him. He is a prisoner to a race of galactic newcomers. And, the ship he is on –the whole fleet in actuality- is now under attack by one of the most experienced races in the galaxy.

Dzor has no duties to the Fievegal right now. He is undoubtedly dead to them. Even if Khla is still hunting, he's after the humans, not the shipwrecked Grodrrns captured by the humans out of some strange sense of mercy. He has no duties to his traitorous crew who wishes him dead. He has no duty to help his captors.

But one other Grodrrn had no duties when he did what he did.

Mrrk'lah, the mutineer who ended a war.

Dzor knows what he has to do if he wants to survive and return to his life. And, no human will stop him.

Dzor says calmly, "{Free the others.}"

Khla looks at him, surprised. He adds, "{I will NOT become the Zarakyssn's prisoner.}"

With that, Dzor unleashes the culmination of his captivity. He roars, gripping the chains binding his hands. He pulls ferociously. He roars louder and pulls harder. He can feel the shackles digging into his skin. He doesn't yield. He pushes himself fiercely. A high-pitched shriek fills the room as metals made to never break stretch. And soon after, a thunderous pop startles Khla. Two severed chains dangle from Dzor's wrists as he relaxes. His bicep bone in his right arm cracked, but is holding.

For months –in human time-, he has been flexing his muscles to their limits. His body can be nudged to direct all the fat in his body and any unnecessary muscles to the ones he micro-trains. Over time, his muscles harden into immensely strong fibers. It's a secret shared only among Jardzens and above, in case lesser beings are captured. So, their expected threshold is much lower than what a Grodrrn can do. It takes an immense level of mental clarity, dedication, and focus to perform, as only those wise to the methodology can guide their internal energies to focus their calories to where they're needed.

Dzor exhales as Khla watches in stunned silence. He can hear the human guards panic, "DZOR'S LOOSE!" "HOW!?" "HE JUST FREED HIMSELF!" "READY UP!" "WAIT! CONTACTS REAR!"

Yes. It is definitely the Zarakyssns. Their blaster weapons firing are unmistakeable. He rolls his shoulders, pulling his leg shackles apart. He can hear the soldiers outside fighting, but they're quickly losing their numbers. Good. Human weapons can kill him.

Dzor steps past Khla, repeating, "{Free the others. Leave the humans to me. Otherwise, do as you wish.}"

With that, he shoves the bolted door of the conex box off of its hinges with little more effort than if he were opening it normally. His strength won't last forever. The exertion of his muscles will wring them out, and the acids that form around them could calcify, deadening his arms for the rest of his life. There are treatments on Grodurra, but first he has to get there.

The huge Grodrrn dwarfs humans and Zarakyssns alike. Zarakyssn soldiers lead quick lives, much like humans. They don't have the time to grow to size.

And, all of both races present; the few humans cornered with their hands up and about to be shot anyways by merciless insects, and the insects themselves; all halt to gaze upon the mountain of muscle and tough, nearly-armored skin and basic clothing.

Dzor grins.

Every Zarakyssn drops what they're doing to aim at him as some wail desperately, "{GRODRRN!? HERE!? FIRE FIRE FIRE!}"

He is already among them in a single bound. His claws are tougher than their metal. His muscles are stronger than their exoskeletons. His mercy is less than theirs.

Dzor swings a back hand, swatting two into the wall like ragdolls. One's body crunches against the wall instantly. The other doesn't get up either. He steps once, clawing through one's armor and reaching crunchy, disgusting tissue. He kicks the next, sending it flying. A fourth surrenders its arm and weapon –against its will of course-. The weapon makes a fine projectile when thrown, smashing two more.

Several burns bite Dzor, but they set their weapons for their targets so they don't kill them. And, a Grodrrn is NOT a human. Additionally, he isn't giving them any time to process and decide to up the output of their weapons. Zarakyssn soldiers are not creative. If he's fast enough, the War Queen undoubtedly present somewhere might not know he's here.

Dzor can feel and hear the human artillery firing. He never told Long about the War Queens of the Zarakyssns. Assuming the human fleet can figure out the fact that the Zarakyssns can interdict them, it's unlikely they'll realize step one is to target the biggest ships –the War Queen ships-. Dzor will take it to his death, but Long is undeniably intelligent. And, though that's true, she's also grossly naïve and new to the galaxy.

Several of the Zarak soldiers try their blades on Dzor. He may not have a regenerator, but their tiny scratches do little more than enrage him.

In mere moments, a deathly rotten stench holds the air, and Dzor is dripping with yellowish blood. He pants heavily, unfazed by the putrid odor, ensuring he didn't miss a single Zarakyssn. He spits the partial helmet and tissue out of his mouth. A foul taste lingers on his tongue, but it did the job.

He can hear their hearts racing, fingers clutching sidearms tightly, ready to draw. Horror will prevent them from doing so. They are tiny and frail, unlike the soldiers who invaded his ship. They are not cowards, but they fear him. As they should.

Dzor simply walks out of the holding area, though, not acknowledging them or Khla. He has interest in only one human. And she is right where he wants her; the ship's bridge.

Dzor has to duck under most doorways and slouch in the hallways. The human ship is aggravatingly small. Fortunately, when he needs to fight, he's pretty low anyways, so it doesn't hinder him ripping his enemies to shreds. He carves a path of carnage and death on his way to the bridge. He needs only follow her scent.

The foolish humans are so naïve and trusting. Many watch as he shreds the Zarakyssns in his way, and not one of them shoots at him. Some even cheer. They cheer and stand idle as a prisoner marches freely and violently among their ship. One even has the gall to ask him what they should do next.

Dzor says nothing, though. He doesn't even acknowledge them. The ship is becoming foul with Zarak atmosphere from their suits. The humans are fighting with every ounce of their tenacity.

But, Dzor doesn't care about them. He is interested in only one human. And, her scent grows ever stronger.

Metal doors block his way, but Dzor knows better. He's on a spaceship, not a building. If there's vacuum across the door, then his mission ends instantly. Instead, he follows his nose to one of the much smaller passageways. He growls in disgust at its size.

***