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Navesha made a disgusted sound as she rolled the male over, no doubt from the foul odor coming from the body given the dark stain of bloody shit covering the seat of his pants. She didn’t comment, however, as she ran her fingers around the male’s head and checked his neck. Not finding what she sought, she stripped him of his vest and tunic and froze. Slowly, she pushed to her feet and glanced over at Veral who promptly strode, with a scowling Vazan, to her side.

“This is against protocols,” the head guard rumbled, but other than that complaint he seemed in no hurry to touch the body.

Not that Terri could blame him with all the disgusting ooze all over the vendor.

The Farhal’s remark was barely acknowledged by the Argurmas with more than a flick of their eyes upon him.

“Between his shoulder blades,” Navesha growled.

Vazan shifted closer and whistled between his teeth as he lifted his pad up, no doubt capturing images, something that Terri knew the Argurmas were doing via their optical implants.

Cursing, Terri worked to aim the drone’s visual recorder on the corpse as her mate leaned forward. The view tilted as the drone swung at an abrupt angle, and she watched as Veral’s fingers set on either side of a raised red bump the size of a nasty bug bite or sting. Slowly, he squeezed, and she felt her stomach churn as green puss wept from what had to be a pinprick opening.

“Fuck, that’s disgusting. Like the zit from hell,” she muttered, earning her an understandably confused look from Dreth.

“A what?”

She waved him off.

“Never mind. It’s nothing your species has to deal with,” she muttered distractedly. Clearing her throat, she activated her comm. “Now what?” she asked her mate, her voice echoing back to her on the viewing screen.

Veral’s vibrissae twitched as his eyes panned the room before settling once more on the narrow window that let in only a thin beam of sunlight. Shonk Vazan’s eyes slanted toward Veral’s comm.

“Is this the female who was attacked? We may need to question her.”

Her mate turned toward the guard, his posture stiff as he nodded. “She is. Ask your questions now. The female is an alien currently under the protection of my line and will not be leaving the safety of the compound while there is danger. The Blaithari was also present and may relate what she observed.”

Terri frowned. A female under protection of his line? That was an odd way to address their mating. She had never heard him refer to their relationship in such cold, detached terms before. Perhaps it was normal, though. Navesha didn’t seem to react at all to his statement and Azan only frowned slightly at him, the expression nothing more than a faint flicker across her face as she straightened from her crouch beside the body.

The guard scraped one thick hand against his wide jaw. “I did not realize that the Argurma were employing other species within their household.”

Terri waited expectantly for her mate to correct him, but to her surprise, Veral said nothing. His lack of response appeared to be enough of a deterrent because the head guard shrugged, lifted his datapad once more, and proceeded to question Terri and Azan on everything they could remember. When he was satisfied that he had a full account of everything they witnessed, he slipped the pad back into his jacket and sighed.

“Not a lot to go on. Clearly it was staged in advance if the male was in place with his wares. Did anyone know that you were going to the market?”

Navesha shook her head. “No. I was asked only that morning to retrieve the items and brought the female with me that she might enjoy seeing our market.” She turned a sharp look to Veral. “I was transporting the order for the household.”

Veral clicked his mandibles in an annoyed tempo. “I will speak to Featha and ascertain whether she mentioned it to anyone.”

Vazan slipped his datapad back inside his jacket and frowned. “I would like to question her as well.”

One corner of Veral’s mouth tipped. “You are welcome, head guardsman. Comm the household and make an appointment at your pleasure.”

“I will. At this point, all we can do is question our local informants and see if anyone has heard or witnessed any strange meetings involving the vendor. I will be frank that it could simply be a matter of jealousy. Your kind does not have a history of taking other species into your employ or even your company. Someone might have seen the alien assisting this Argurma female and acted in hope of creating a possible opening of employment, or perhaps a member of your species retaliated against a breach of etiquette. It would not be the first time there has been a murder related to employment opportunities in the Shanah Guard, nor of Argurmas killing offworlders they find offensive.”

Veral’s eyes narrowed. “How regular are these incidents?”

Vazan shrugged. “More often than I would like. It seems like at least once a lunar we get a report of something of this nature occurring. Offworlders killing each other for scraps or getting killed by a local they have offended in their attempt to gain credits. There are limited employment opportunities, and competition is strong among those who come to Argurumal.” He snorted mirthlessly. “You would think they would stop coming and go somewhere with wider opportunities. In any case, I would not worry too much about it as anything more than that. If I see any indication otherwise, I will notify you immediately. It still leaves the question of who killed the vendor, but if an Argurma can accomplish that feat, it is possible that a skilled assassin could too.”

Veral’s face remained expressionless, but Terri could tell he wasn’t convinced. She, however, hoped Vazan was right. She stroked her belly with worry as she watched Veral leave with Navesha and Azan. She could feel Dreth watching her. She gave him a tight smile.

“He’s probably right,” she murmured. “Someone probably saw a good opportunity and took it.”

Dreth inclined his head, his lips pinching. “That would be the logical conclusion,” he agreed.

She wished that he was a bit more convincing because some small part of her trembled uneasily. She could feel metal tendrils sliding over her arm, her symbiont activated but in a resting phase with no immediate enemy to attack. Did she have an enemy? Someone had tried to kill her, and she could only hope that it was, as the guard said, a single event of opportunity.

17


Tags: S.J. Sanders Argurma Salvager Science Fiction