I gazed at Boger's dismembered corpse, coughing out my grief.

Another tragic loss of life.

There were so many things Boger could have taught me.

What his family was like.

How to communicate in his strange, melodious language.

How to use tools and sanitation supplies.

I do not say that last part in jest. Believe it or not, I actually found Boger's humble career intriguing, and somewhat noble. If given the chance to pursue a career of my own, I believe I would have chosen the same. A deceptively simple, but challenging field of employment.

Not that it mattered. I would never have that opportunity again.

Ahxalybij stuck a claw into the victim's bloody chest wound, sampling the gore like a child tasting her mother's cake batter.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted to try some myself. Synthetic meat, although filling, burns through my Ss'sik'chtokiwij stomach faster than genuine flesh. It's like what they say about Chinese food.

It didn't help that I had developed a human dietary pattern, with associated ache of hunger.

To force my mind away from such evil fleshly cravings, I reminded myself of the noble qualities of the man, the respect he gave me. The friendship I'd lost, whispering a prayer for God to give me the inner strength to seek the food of His holy word instead of these sinful urges...unless He could send down some cruelty free meat.

Ahxalybij offered me a thigh. "You're welcome to it."

I shook my head violently. "The Lord rebuke you for this wicked act!"

"If it's such an evil thing, then why do I see you drooling?"

It felt like playing the role of Christ as he fasted in the wilderness, my sister as Satan. "My meat is the word of God. Not the flesh of my friends."

"You mean I can have this all to myself?" my sister said with false astonishment. "Why thank you!"

I scowled, silently waiting for her to turn away from this evil act.

Ahxalybij bowed her head, waving her claws. "I believe it is a common human custom to pray before one eats."

"I will not!" I shouted. "Repent of this vile wickedness! Do you not fear the wrath of the Almighty Ss'sik'chtokiwij above?"

"No." My sister bit off a chunk of Boger's arm like a piece of barbecue.

Enraged by her flippant attitude toward sin, I let out a scream, hammering her against the floor of the maintenance tunnel. "Repent and turn away from this wickedness, and do not grieve the Spirit with your continued sinning!"

Ahxalybij let out an annoyed growl. "You're interrupting my dinner." She smashed my head into the wall as effortlessly as she would a Basket Ball.

I clawed and punched back, but she only responded by striking me with enough force to send me flying into the air register.

I picked myself up off the floor, launching another attack.

We took turns slamming each other against the aluminum walls, me uselessly punching her head, Ahxalybij squeezing my throat to the point where I saw stars and nearly passed out.

After wrestling with her like this for about five minutes, more or less, we fell backwards over Boger's body.

Thud. Something heavy and metallic clanked against the floor of the compartment.

My jaw distended in shock at what my claws ran across.

A gun!

I had seen this object demonstrated both on recordings and in real life. What surprised me the most: The weight.

I raised the weapon, clicked back the hammer, aimed it at my sister.

"What is that," she said.

My claw trembled as I carefully slid one digit partway through the ring that held the firing mechanism. "The instrument of your repentance. Again I adjure you, as a sister, to stop this cruel murdering of human beings!"

"No."

Click. The safety was on.

My sister laughed. "Some instrument."

I fiddled with the mechanism, brought back the hammer. "Please, Ahxalybij. Stop this killing."

She responded by leaping with hear claws extended.

I fired a bullet into her head. A deafening sound in such a small confined space.

Ahxalybij let out an agonized shriek as part of her head exploded. Acid blood sprayed the compartment, reducing sections to Swiss cheese. Her body collapsed on the metal flooring.

Another sister dead.

Dropping the gun, I knelt by the two bodies, one human, one not, grieving in the fashion of the Ss'sik'chtokiwij. The ringing in my auditory organs felt like the condemning peal of God's judgment, both for me and my dead sister. I begged the Lord to forgive these violent acts for the sake of the humans I wished to save, and to also spare Ahxalybij's soul.

I turned away, sneezing as I shuffled to the register.

That's when I heard the distinct sound of the gun hammer clicking back.

The first bullet tore a gaping hole in the vent, adding a chorus to my already ringing auditory sense organs.

A second shot hit me in the rear end, sending waves of searing pain up my body.

The hammer clicked again.

A wild fearful panic descended upon me. I projectile spat acid on the vent cover, smeared it around in a circle. I received a shoulder wound for my trouble.

Wincing in pain, I rammed my fist through the bubbling circle, creating a hole. I dove outside a fraction of a second before the next round came whipping after me.

Ahxalybij chambered another round.