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His claws extended and retracted. He had a job to do, he reminded himself. He had to gain control of the ship, keep this virus from spreading.

But it wasn't what he wanted to do. He wanted to throw Alex against the wall and have him. No! He wanted to kill him. Smash him against the wall over and over until he was nothing more than a bloody stain in his memory.

A mercenary stepped out of a doorway and fired on noticing them.

With a roar Tristan ran at him. He felt the blaster's impact, a Kentric Imperial, but the pain was distant behind his anger.

He dug his claws into the man's neck, digging through the protective layer and ripping it off. Then the man's throat was out and he was gurgling, trashing.

*Die, Die Alex, get out of my life.*

He panted, anticipating the moment when the life left the man below him, the moment of satisfaction at finally being free. Then the disappointment as he realized this wasn't Alex, just some random merc. Every time it was like that.

He felt the motion behind him and turned with a snarl, but Alex hadn't moved close enough to be swiped at. He was still afraid of him, good. He should be, it was only a question of time before Tristan killed him. The moment this job was done, the moment he didn't need him, it was over.

They encountered five more mercs, who seemed to be on patrol. Tristan dispatched each of them with the same vicious expediency, and it was only once they stood before the doors leading to engineering he realized he should have let Alex deal with them. He was his weapon. He should earn his keep, and he might have been killed.

He snorted, which drew a look from the human. He ignored it and him. No one but him could kill Alex. No one else had the right. He made him, he would destroy him.

Later, after the job.

Engineering. Control was through that door. All he had to do is get through the door. Standard Dovinal by the look of it. Even without tools he could get through it in minutes. Open the door, take them down, take control of the ship, cure himself, destroy it, kill Alex, go home. Never leave again.

Only, the target had a lot of mercs with him, and at this point he had them all in there with him, except for the few Tristan had killed. If they went in it would be a hard fight.

There was another access, maybe the people who'd boarded the ship, who were chasing him, would reach it from that side, trap the target between them and help thin the mercs. He snarled. Another look from Alex. The universe was working too hard at killing him for it to work out that way.

Send in Alex. Send in his weapon, let him do what he does so well. He would thin the crowd before they took him down. He wouldn't have to deal with him after that. The only flaw with this option was the level of risk that Alex would end up killing the target in the battle confusion, or worse, end up dying himself. No one but Tristan got to kill him.

He needed something less direct. He needed to think, about something else than Alex's body, the way it felt under him. He growled. Focus.

He called up the memory of the ship's layout. It was only the corridors and rooms, but it was a starting point. This layout matched over twenty models of cruise ships this size. And more of them also followed a standardized layout for the maintenance conduits.

The target could have this modified, but considering the time frame, there was only so much he could get done. Install a camera system throughout the ship was one thing, modifying the layout of the maintenance conduits? Could that be done in the time frame they knew he'd had? Tristan had never looked into what it took for that, but the ship would have to go into a shipyard during that time.

And to modify one layout would affect the other. The corridors wouldn't be in this configuration anymore, which meant there was a conduit that ran above the engineering room.

He had to backtrack and enter a room. This would be the test, if there was an access behind the wall. He dug his claws in and pulled. The covering came off and revealed the access.

He reached for the belt buckle, found only fabric and cursed. They'd taken that from him. It wouldn't stop him. This wasn't the first time he'd had to work without tools.

The cover came off the control panel. He had to rewire it to keep the target from realizing it was open. This plan depended on surprising him, on getting the literal drop on him.

His fingers healed as fast as the burns occurred as he moved wires and circuits around. The smell of burnt fur, flesh and plastic filled the small box by the time Tristan closed it.

The access opened to a node, a larger space where tools could be stored. This one didn't contain that, but it had a ladder going up and down. Up he went. There would be another node between the next two levels and it would run over the large engineering room.

The access would be in the middle of it. It was for emergency repairs, things that couldn't wait for one of the technician to go through such a remote access point.

It would be a long drop, but they could do it. Alex would deal with the mercs while Tristan secured the target, and after that he would finally deal with Alex.