On the second night, the warship felt almost peaceful during its sleep hours. No alarms, no strategists, no thunder of engines—just the steady hum beneath their feet in the corridors like the ship was breathing.

  Idalia padded beside Kelix. He carried two steaming mugs from the galley. "It's not meat broth," he warned, handing her one, "but it's supposed to be sweet."

  Frowning at the odd muddy-colored water, she sniffed it suspiciously. "Smells like burned sugar and flower petals."

  "That's exactly what it is," he said, sitting on a crate. "Caftea. The caffeinated version keeps Wanderans awake through three shifts. We got the hot cocoa edition."

  "Hot cocoa?" Another strange term. Too curious, she lapped once, hissed, then grinned. "It's terrible! I like it."

  Kelix chuckled, finally relaxing against the wall. "You only like things that fight back."

  "Maybe." She tilted her head. "You fight back too."

  He gave her a sidelong look. "That supposed to be a compliment?"

  "Yes. Don't ruin it."

  For a few breaths they sat, listening to the faint murmur of reactors. In this peaceful period without fangs on flesh, Idalia tail flicked lazily, her earlier fury dulled to curiosity. "Do you think Vestella sleeps? Or does she fold herself into a fan case?"

  "Probably drafts battle plans in her dreams," Kelix said. "Why?"

  "Because I'm bored. No one's tried to stab us in hours."

  "That's what peace feels like."

  "Boring."

  Slurping the last of her drink, Idalia slowly began to savor the rich taste of chocolate. Despite her joy in the moment, she couldn't help but notice Kelix's intense stare. With a playful snarl, she growled, "You're not getting a single drop of my cocoa!"

  Instead of reacting, Kelix tilted his head, looking genuinely puzzled. "Ida, you're a T-Rex. A spatial one, sure, but doesn't chocolate—no, doesn't just about any food—bother you? I mean, spices are... well, I know our food can be toxic to—uh, animal-like creatures such as yourself… no offense. But most of our cocoa products contain sugar and dairy. It seems like your belly is immune to just about anything. Is this some sort of Liorex thing?"

  A beep pinged inside her head, the knowledge core somewhere in her skull—probably—went up slightly.

  [Knowledge Core [D]: 38% → 40%]

  She shooed it away.

  But Idalia concentrated, but struggled to wrap her head around his strange terms like "sugar," "dairy," and why he was so fascinated with what filled her belly. "I am an animal, but I eat prey animals because they're delicious!" She licked the inside of her cup one more time, then swiveled to face Kelix completely. "Just like I enjoy this chocolate liquid milk! But you said it was hot! This is hardly warm!"

  Using her tail to grab the cup, she waved it dramatically, as if it might suddenly start bubbling. "I demand a chocolate volcano next time!"

  Kelix rolled his eyes, a gesture Idalia had come to understand meant the other person was being ridiculous.

  The Wanderan boy thought she was being outrageous. Her chest surged with mock frustration. How dare he perceive her this way?

  "Don't roll your eyes at me, Kelix!" she exclaimed, swiping her paw at his hand and knocking his cup to the floor. She felt a surge of satisfaction as his unfinished cocoa spilled across the polished surface. With wild abandon, she squealed in delight, licking up the "hot" cocoa from the floor. "Ha! Mine!"

  Beside her, Kelix's let out an audible groan. "This is what I have to deal with."

  "Yet you love my company, yes?" She looked up at Kelix, her tongue swiping her muzzle clean. "But do tell me more about this toxic food? Why would food be toxic when it's not poison? Are Wanderans consuming poison? Why? That really sounds foolish!"

  Kelix pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to recover from the chaos of the cocoa incident. "No, no, we're not eating poison, Ida. It's just that some substances are… well, harmless to us, but not to other species. Chocolate, for instance, has a compound called theobromine. It can make certain creatures—like, uh, dogs or lizards—really sick."

  [Knowledge Core [D]: 40% → 41%]

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Idalia's tail twitched. "So your people discovered poisonous food and decided to keep it as dessert? Bold. I respect that."

  He laughed, shaking his head. "It's not poisonous to us! Just to others. Biology is weird like that."

  "Then perhaps your biology is the weird one," she shot back proudly. "Liorexes can digest nearly anything. Bone, metal, even your sugar-burned flower drink. My internal heat melts the impurities. I'm basically a walking furnace!"

  Kelix blinked. "Wait, that's why Wanderan food doesn't bother you? You mean your body temperature is high enough to neutralize toxins?"

  She shrugged. "Possibly. I don't check. I just get hungry and eat things until I'm not hungry."

  Kelix tilted his head thoughtfully. "So you're saying Liorexes evolved a kind of thermal digestion? Like… hyperthermic metabolism? That would explain your energy output and your inability to sit still for more than twelve seconds."

  Idalia beamed. "Exactly! Though, correction—I can sit still for fifteen seconds if I'm focusing very hard."

  "Right, my mistake. So if your internal temperature's that high, wouldn't that make your insides... like, uncomfortably toasty for anyone else?"

  "Oh, extremely!" she said cheerfully. "One time, Pyro and Pyra dared me to swallow a rock-fauna. I burped after—"

  "Alright, enough," Kelix waved his hands. "You know, you're pretty curious for a… Liorex. It's like you're eating knowledge from us well," he muttered more to himself.

  She lurched. If Alpha Pawail's cautionary tale was to be taken seriously, then Kelix must never know.

  Idalia froze mid-tail flick, her pupils narrowing with mock suspicion. "Eating knowledge? Are you saying your thoughts are edible? Because if they are, Kelix, you're in trouble."

  He raised both hands defensively. "No, no! Not like that—metaphorically! You just… absorb everything. Questions, new words, chaos. It's like watching a predator discover the concept of a library."

  Her head tilted. "Library… that's where you keep your prey pile, yes?"

  Kelix snorted. "Books, not prey. Paper prey, maybe."

  "Ah," she said, looking far too serious. "So that's why they don't run when you read them."

  He stared at her for a full beat before breaking into helpless laughter. "Ida, you cannot say things like that with a straight face."

  "Why not? It's true! Your words stay put when you attack them with your eyes. That's efficient hunting."

  "Reading. It's called reading."

  "Hmm." She licked her muzzle thoughtfully. "Still feels like hunting to me."

  [Knowledge Core [D]: 41% → 42%]

  Kelix folded his arms, leaning back against the crate again. "You know, for a self-proclaimed furnace creature, you're surprisingly warm in a friendly way."

  Idalia blinked, confused. "Of course I'm warm. I told you—internal temperature. Were you not listening?"

  "No, I mean—never mind." He sighed, shaking his head with a smile. "You're impossible."

  "And yet, you keep talking to me," she teased, her tail curling smugly. Then she licked the rim of her empty mug one last time and added, "Now bring me another chocolate poison. I wish to test my internal furnace further."

  He groaned but stood anyway, muttering something about "the most dangerous science experiment ever." As he disappeared into the corridor, Idalia leaned back against the crate, eyes half-lidded in satisfaction. Her stomach rumbled faintly—a happy, molten sound.

  "Wonder, learn, wonder again," she murmured, amused. "Kelix might survive after all—through me!"

  ??? ???

  After Idalia finished demolishing the cafeteria's absolutely delicious food—much to the chefs' despair—she and Kelix rounded the next corner and stopped.

  Rhaya was waiting for them. The peculiar Wanderan woman wore a short white skirt, a sleeveless top, a visor hat, and sneakers in place of her armor. A racket lay slung over her shoulder.

  Against the steel walls and holo-panels, she looked like she'd walked in from an entirely different world.

  Idalia blinked. "You're… going hunting like that?"

  Rhaya lifted an eyebrow. "It's called tennis. Recreation. Perhaps you should try it."

  Electrifying his straw, Kelix nearly choked on his strawberry drink. "You play tennis?"

  "Of course," Rhaya said coolly. "Discipline is useless without rhythm." She glanced at Idalia. "You would be terrible at it—with those arms."

  Idalia bared her teeth in a grin. "Maybe. Or maybe I'd eat the ball."

  "That would be terrible form." Rhaya huffed.

  Kelix coughed into his cup to hide laughter. Rhaya rolled her eyes and strode past them toward the ship's gymnasium, the door swishing closed behind her.

  Idalia tilted her head. "She smells less angry in that outfit."

  Kelix shrugged. "Maybe tennis is therapy."

  "Maybe hitting things is therapy," Idalia mused. "I could like that activity."

  "It's a sport, Ida. That's what we Wanderans call our "play" activities."

  Idalia's eyes widened, tail flicking like a cat spotting a laser dot. "Play activities? You strike each other with rackets and call it play? I am starting to understand your culture, Kelix."

  He nearly spat out his drink. "No, no, no—you don't hit people! You hit the ball. It's about reflexes and control."

  "Control? You hit something over and over and don't destroy it? That sounds… unhealthy." Her snout scrunched in disbelief.

  He chuckled. "It's the point, actually. Sports are meant to be fun, not fatal."

  Idalia blinked. "Fun, not fatal." She repeated it slowly, like testing a new element for volatility. "Strange phrase. I thought the best fun was fatal."

  Kelix stared at her, unsure whether to laugh or start drafting a crew safety report. "Ida, remind me to never let you near a bowling alley."

  "What's a bowling alley? Do you throw prey down it?"

  "…Close enough," he muttered, deciding that explanation could wait. He gestured to where Rhaya had gone. "Want to head to the recreation room?"

  Before he finished speaking, Idalia's ears shot up. She inhaled deeply, like tracking prey through ventilation shafts. "I smell rubber. And plastic. And… something begging to be destroyed."

  Kelix paled. "Ida, those are dodgeballs. They're for a game. A non-violent game."

  "Non-violent?" she echoed, scandalized. "Kelix, why would you show me a thing and expect me not to strike it?"

  "I—please don't strike anything. You know what let's head back to our quarters and—"

  Idalia's interrupted him with an audibly loud "Nyah"! "Kelix… do your people truly believe showing a Liorex a brightly colored, throwable object is safe?"

  She padded toward the recreation room with growing excitement.

  "Ida—Ida, wait—don't touch anything until I explain the rules!"

  She looked back at him, eyes gleaming with delighted menace. "Rules? Wonderful. I love breaking new things!"

  The door slid open. The room inside had no idea its worst nightmare had arrived.