There had been something bothering Sho'ta since they'd first entered the cell. He'd been prepared to fight for their lives, to even lay down his life if he had to, to make sure that his mate survived. It had left him off-kilter when the Terran had seemed to negotiate a non-aggression truce, even if it was just a temporary one while it observed them.

Which, was concerning.

Did they have some sort of sensing gift that allowed them to pinpoint their enemies' weaknesses? Did the Terran need time to use their gift and that's why it proposed the truce? Was it even now gathering information on them so that it could attack when they fell asleep or had their guard lowered? Or was Z'shi right and it was a pacifist and just trying to survive this cell?

Even if that were the case, it had still proven to be dangerous. Given the reactions of the other prisoners, it was a devastating opponent. But was that because of its true abilities or from the rumors about Terrans? Allowing Z'shi to rest, he set about unraveling the mystery. He had always been logical, best to go off what he could observe himself instead of vague rumors spread by scared sentients that got twisted and turned as they were retold.

The problem was, the cloak it was wearing completely obscured its form. He had the vague impression that it was bipedal, but even that could be wrong. He was surprised that they had been permitted to keep the cloak, but maybe it had been too much of a hassle to retrieve it from them.

The way they curled up smaller sent alarm bells ringing quietly at the back of his mind. Most sentients, when facing threats, would either try to bluff an ability or try to make themselves look larger to deter an attack. Those who tried to make themselves look smaller, look non-threatening, were usually weaker species. So was it a clever lure or was it a true reaction?

Since he didn't have any visual clues, he allowed his eyes to drift half closed to keep from straining them, and turned to his other senses. Panteras had a keener sense of smell than many other sentients, so he set about unraveling the Terrans scent, to see if he could decipher more about them.

This was challenging for two reasons. One, there were many, many different sentients on board, creating an atmosphere that was full of fear, despair, exhaustion, boredom, and rage. Not only that, but it didn't seem like their captors cleaned the cell area frequently or at all really, so there were the slowly fading smells of past occupants. Not to mention the general cleanliness of the area was extremely questionable. He knew that they were slavers and traffickers, but one would think that they'd keep the area cleaner to keep their merchandise in the best possible condition.

Stupid and greedy, a bad combination, even if it was currently working in their favor. He couldn't wait until he got this space drekk shut down for good.

Still, even though it took longer than he would've liked, he gradually managed to filter out the non-important smells. He lingered for a moment on Z'shi, the scent of clean, healthy Raptora soothing to his on-edge instincts. It helped calm him and remind him of the important things, even if he couldn't keep the tip of his tail from twitching in irritation. However, since he could neither eliminate whatever was bothering him nor remove himself from the source of the irritation, he settled for ignoring it.

Moving on from Z'shi, he stretched his senses until he finally caught the unfamiliar scent that had to belong to the Terran. He'd recognized every other sentient they had passed, was familiar with their species, how they moved, behaved, and smelt. This scent was different, unlike anything he'd smelt before.

First, there was the undertone that all living creatures carried. Underneath the unwashed smell that all the prisoners had, this Terran smelled like life. Their scent carried notes of rich, dark soil and green growing things, there was a vitality to the scent that was intriguing even as it was baffling. Terrans were described as smelling of blood and death, why then, did this one smell like the promise of good harvest and safe den? A land of promise, of potential. It was baffling.

Once he was certain he had a firm grasp of their base scent, he set about unraveling the rest of the mystery. The next scent he picked up held a coppery tang containing an acrid undertone. Although it was faded, he had smelled enough similar combinations to know that it was most likely the remnants of an injury.

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He narrowed his eyes, ears flicking as he weighed this new information. Was that why the Terran hadn't attacked? Had they suffered a grievous injury when they had killed their last cellmate? But the guards hadn't seemed concerned about the Terran's health, had expected the Terran to attack them the moment he and Z'shi had been shoved into the cage.

Could it be the smell of the Terran's last victim? But another deep inhale countered that assumption, the coppery scent also carrying the Terran's base scent. So, the Terran had definitely been injured at some point and it didn't seem like the injury had been tended either. Terrans were reputed for being sturdy, so was this a minor injury that they didn't even notice? Or was the Terran slowly dying and no one else had bothered to notice?

He sucked in another deep breath but was unable to discern anything beyond the scent of the injury. At least it smelt like an old wound, so the Terran at least wasn't actively bleeding out in the same cell as them. Although, if they'd lost a lot of blood, they would most likely be sluggish and freezing, so maybe that was why they were huddled in that oversized cloak.

A tiny shred of compassion filled him and he tried to pick apart the rest of their scent. If they were ill and non-aggressive, it was one of the worst things in the world to be while locked up in a slaver ship. They probably thought they were going to die alone, far from their native planet. Sho'ta couldn't promise that they wouldn't die, especially since he didn't know the extent of their injuries or how severe those injuries were. But if he could deem them a non-threat, at least they wouldn't have to fear dying alone.

Another inhale, slower this time to pick up the subtle nuances. Underneath the coppery scent, there was a hint of something sweeter, like a night-blooming jasmine at sunset. The promise of a bloom was there, but not quite opened yet. So the kit was probably female then.

He paused, going completely still as he thought back over his last few thoughts. Kit? No, surely not. Please, by all the stars, don't let them be trapped in the same cell as an injured kit. Allowing the tips of his claws to prick into the skin of his palm where his hands were curled into fists, he closed his eyes and counted to ten, clearing his mind of all preconceived thoughts or 'facts' about Terrans.

Then he inhaled again, picking up all of the nuances he had before, old sweat, rich earth, coppery acrid, and not fully bloomed night jasmine.

Drekk.

X

Noting the tension in Sho'ta's frame, Z'shi knew that things were about to careen out of control in a spectacular manner. He knew it was probably a vain hope, but he had to at least try to keep this mission from being scrapped after all the work they'd put into putting together a task force.

Latching onto Sho'ta's arm, he hissed just loud enough for Sho to hear. "Sho, no. We can't do this. We have to remember the mission, we're trying to save everyone here. And there's no guarantee that the Terran really is a kit. They could be scent mimics for all we know and are trying to lure us in with the scent of a kit. After all, most sentients are protective of younglings. There's a chance that the traffickers suspect what we are and are working together with the Terran to dispose of us. We can't risk this, there are too many sentients' safety depending on this."

Despair filled him as he watched Sho's pupils contract into tiny slits before returning to normal. Why, why, why, did his mate have to be so soft for kits? Even if the kit in question could probably kill both of them without even trying. He tried, "Why do you think it's a kit? They look bigger than half a dozen species."

Sho'ta growled quietly, pushing to his feet. "She is a kit, probably around Shen's age, definitely not an adult. She is tired, hungry, and injured. Not only that, but she's clearly terrified. I am not going to let a kit suffer for one moment longer if I can help it in any way."

A tremulous voice called from the cell across the way. "Don't! They're dangerous."

Sho'ta focused on them and they shrank back, going pale. He barked, "What makes you say that?"

They twisted their hands together anxiously. "They took down a full-grown Cresica in mere ticks. It was half again as tall as the Terran and the Terran took it down like it was nothing! They're a monster, I tell you!"

Z'shi caught Sho'ta's arm, stopping him. He tried again, trying to infuse a hint of humor in his voice, "See, they're too dangerous. I'm too young and handsome to be a widower. Please, for once in the galaxy, leave it be."

Sho'ta looked remorseful for a brief second before pulling his arm loose, giving Z'shi's hand a quick squeeze. "So they're strong and a bit dangerous. But so are most of our students, Sunshine. They are scared, Z'shi. They were fighting for their life and they probably don't understand what's going on. Look, they haven't stirred or responded to our conversation at all. They need our help, Z'shi. We can't let the kit suffer. Please, don't ask that of me.

Z'shi sighed, resigning himself. Offering his mate a crooked grin, "Fine, but I'm coming with you." He held up his hand before Sho'ta could protest. "No, we're in this together. And if the Terran decides to attack, I can support you. And if they don't speak Common, I'm a language teacher, maybe I can find one that we do share."

Sho'ta hesitated for a long moment before nodding, giving Z'shi's hand one last squeeze then allowing it to drop, turning his attention to the huddled kit.

Z'shi took a deep breath, focusing on the huddled Terran. Time to go and coax a Terran kit.

Stars, could his life get any odder?