Subconscious Bias

The tor’c rounded a corner right in front of me. It wasn’t there, and then it was. Right in my way. Four feet tall, those weird tentacle arms, all five of them waving around like he’s going to grab me for lunch or something. I couldn’t help myself. My gun was out before I knew what I was doing and I emptied the cartridge into that gelatinous blob leaving a heap of quivering jello-like mass and more goo sliming the sidewalk. How did I know it was trying to get away from a couple of muggers? At least the muggers took off, so there’s that. I mean, really, what was I supposed to do? Wouldn’t you do the same thing? So, yeah, it’s not like it was a crime or anything. That’s when I took the necklace. The tor’c was already dead, so it wasn’t like anyone was going to miss it, you know? The tor’c was already dead. I couldn’t change that. No sense letting it go to waste.