Page 65 of Trove’s Purpose

But there was one thing he was good at. A skill he demonstrated on Lusitania. One that earned him a spot as her slave. She’d been his protector. His mentor, really. She’d taken pleasure at his hands and tongue and trained him as a loyal soldier. Thinking that because she had him in her bed, she had some control over him. All males were controlled through their cocks, she’d say.

Kirvan was not so easily led.

When he was grown, when he was trained, when he was ready, he’d turned on her. Killed her with a single shot through her skull, right through her left eye. He’d killed a few others that really were loyal to her, for good measure, then he’d stolen what he could, gone off on his own, and now he was the one who people feared.

Rik-Vane was an old station. Probably one of the older space stations still in use. Honestly, Kirvan wasn’t sure how it still functioned, but he didn't care. If the engines suddenly died one day, if the hull wore through and tore open, if they all died in a fiery explosion of neglected machinery, then that was all the better. He bet the fire would stink to high heaven, but he’d welcome the burn of death.

Since it was so old, it was also very simple in design. From the outside, it was shaped like a rectangle, with square shaped divots in the surface. Places where, maybe once in more peaceful times, ships would come to dock. Long before the invention of docking tunnels.

They were almost all closed off now. Only a few still functioned, and of those few, only a selection actually ever saw a ship. Those docks were owned by gangs that kept very strict control over what was, really, Rik-Vane’s only source of new supplies. It made them powerful, but also volatile. Those gangs were constantly changing hands and the members dying by each other’s treason.

It was all so stupid. Maybe that was hypocritical of him, considering he also betrayed the person he’d allied himself with, but he had only been using her. She’d never actually had his loyalty. And once he got what he needed from her, he dealt with her before she became a problem.

Then, he climbed up. Up was good. People were very bad at dealing with up. Height gave him an advantage. It also gave him distance.

This old blaster gun was probably once put on the outside of a starship for defense. Kirvan had no idea how it ended up here, but it was busted and broken when Lusitania got ahold of it. She’d put it away, waiting for someone who could fix it. Unaware that person was Kirvan.

After he killed her, he stole the blaster he’d been secretly working on, dragged it all the way up here, then made his home. Like a bird in its nest.

And the section of Rik-Vane spread below him was just a platform of victims. People he terrorized because he could. Because it made them fear him. Because if they feared him, no one would dare to come against him, and the few that tried it were easily dealt with.

It was a boring sort of existence. And lonely. He barely slept for the screams in his sleep. The nightmares that never ceased to plague him. It was getting to the point that he was antagonizing people with the hope that they might come up here and do something about it.

What was he even living for anyway? Why was he trying so hard to survive? There was no point to any of this, so why even bother to keep living? If he jumped off the top of this ledge right now, no one would care. They’d notice, but only because they’d want to harvest his body.

Meat was a preciously rare resource around here and, really, it wasn’t technically cannibalism if they weren’t the same species.

A yawn split his face as he used one hand to lazily turn the blaster. Counting building tops. Wondering when he’d pull the trigger. He could watch them run. From up here, if they were loud enough, he could even hear them scream. It might drown out the screams already in his head if the blaster and their horror worked together…

“You seem bored.”

Kirvan was up, pistol off his belt, aiming into the shadows, before he even finished identifying the words that had been spoken to him.

“Who are you?” He asked, gaze darting around. But he saw nothing. No one was there. Who-

One of the shadows shifted, and a pair of deep, gleaming red eyes flashed. Jewel bright, like a poisonous beast, threatening him with their shine.

“You…” Kirvan breathed. He knew those eyes. Not because he’d ever seen them before, but because everyone whispered of the Bloody Shadow that stalked the station. A person you never saw until they were already killing you.

And here he was.

Well, Kirvan supposed he was just thinking about dying anyway.

Still, that indomitable will, that refusal to die, took over and he shot. The eyes flashed and were gone before his finger finished pulling. He heard the hard ‘ting’ of his bullets hitting metal. He didn't have proper laser or plasma fire here, just old-fashioned projectiles. Deadly enough, but not if they didn't actually hit anything.

“Easy, Kirvan. I’m not here to kill you.”

“Sure,” Kirvan laughed. “I suppose you also have a starship to sell me as well.”

“Actually…”

He turned, aiming, trying to follow the voice. There wasn’t much space up here, there weren’t many places he could be. So how-

The Bloody Shadow moved so fast, Kirvan didn't even see him coming. One moment, Kirvan was aiming towards the darkness, the next his arm was caught in a vice grip. But it wasn’t the Bloody Shadow. It was a broad shouldered lvtl male he’d never seen before with dark brown skin and a hard scowl on his face. He easily held Kirvan’s arm up, weapon pointed away.

When Kirvan went to grab his backup weapon, he stilled when a pair of sharp, metallic claws were suddenly pressed against his neck. And to his other side, there was a farasie male with blue feathers. Both males held him still.

And Kirvan grinned at the coming death.