If Dante had described any other alien, Regi would have immediately protested that his security forces had searched behind every door in the ship. However, Dante was describing a Styl. Styls had evolved in a notoriously radioactive part of space. A Styl could hide in the inner mechanics of engineering where even Ter and his people could not follow. There was not a word strong enough to express Regi's dismay at this new piece of information, although Dante’s habit of referring to unpleasant orifices had some appeal.
“I take it that’s bad?” Dante asked.
Regi offered a polite and disingenuous smile. “My people believe that challenges allow one to reach one's full potential.” Had Regi said as much to anyone else on the ship, they would have given him an odd look and promptly fled. Kowri culture and religion made the others uncomfortable.
Dante huffed. “I take it you're feeling like you’ve been given a little too much opportunity to grow.”
“An excess of opportunity,” Regi admitted. He considered asking Dante to remain behind. He could even lie and suggest that Captain Cota had not approved of Dante leaving the room. But if there was a Styl on board, none of them were safe. Trying to put Dante in a shielded position was as useless as attempting to hold water with one finger. Regi had never admired futility. “Captain Cota approved my request that you accompany me on my duties. If you would like to come with me, I believe we must apprise the captain and the security forces of this development.”
Dante stood. He didn't question Regi or demand answers about the extent of the danger. “Can you spare a weapon?”
The sheer horror of putting Dante into a position where he felt he needed to defend himself nearly made Regi withdraw his offer. He did not want Dante to feel so unsafe as to require a weapon.
Dante made a strange gesture with his mouth, pulling the corners down and the middle of the lower lip up. “Don't you worry. If I had a stranger appear with a story as crazy as mine, I wouldn't be quick to give them a weapon, either. It's fine.” Dante softly struck Regi on the shoulder. “Come on, let's go tell your people that we have more opportunity for growth than any of us can handle. Because if you didn't kill the bruiser, I know he's out there somewhere, looking to kill us.”
And that was a painfully accurate summation.
Chapter Nine
Regi watched Danteusing his peripheral vision. His body moved smoothly—none of the jerks or starts that Regi associated with a being experiencing stress. However, his shoulders were higher than normal, and his gaze sought every corner and shadow when they entered the engineering control room. Regi suspected Dante felt more fear than he was willing to confess. Part of him wished he could grant Dante his wish and allow him a weapon. However, fearful creatures, particularly ones who were physically fragile, could fire inappropriately because, to them, everything appeared threatening. Since Regi did not wish to be shot by a nervous creature, he ignored his desire to find Dante a weapon.
Instead he focused on Ter who was more willing to display his distress.
“A Styl?” Ter tugged on his ears in frustration. “How certain are you?”
Regi tried to speak for Dante, but Dante spoke first.
“I can’t be certain, but I described a big, roan-colored dude with a short temper. If Regi says that’s a Styl, I tend to believe him.”
Ter gave up on his ears and gazed at Dante, his expression projecting confusion. “Roan-colored?”
“Styl-colored,” Regi clarified. “Mottled, hairless body with darker legs.”
Ter sank into his seat, his fingers resting against the engineering controls. “As much as I would like to ignore the evidence, I cannot criticize others for rampant stupidity if I plan to engage in it myself. Since criticizing others is a personal passion of mine, I shall accept—with great regret—that we have a Styl loose in the ship. My next question is what you are planning to do about it in your official capacity as head of security.” Ter pinned Regi with a look that was both demanding and critical. Regi wondered if Ter had children, because that did seem to be the sort of expression that Regi's mother would often employ when she claimed that he was being a disappointing offspring.
“We have informed Captain —”
