《Another Kind: A Predator/Mimic Fanfiction Crossover Novel》 Prologue: Rough Landing ¡°Harold! Go, go, go!¡± Doctor Teresa Boyd yells over the cacophony of noise all around them. Not bothering to give the young technician a chance to argue, Teresa yanks on his forearm and drags him toward the clump of trees to their right. A moment later, there is an earth-shattering boom and a wall of heat sends the two humans flying into the air. Teresa maintains her grip on Harold¡¯s arm as they roll into a small indention in the dirt. As soon as the air clears, Teresa climbs unsteadily to her feet. Harold¡¯s weight is uncharacteristically light and she turns to see what is wrong. She releases Harold¡¯s arm and stares down at the stump of a corpse left on the ground. What little food she has in her stomach slowly rises, and she vomits violently. Retching again, Teresa bends at the knees and presses a hand to the left side of her abdomen. With precious little time, Teresa tries to regain some modicum of composure and stand erect. She is just turning to run when another explosion sends her reeling backward. Dirt and scorched foliage spray into the air and Teresa hits the ground hard. She knows she is lucky to even be alive. They missed her by a hair. Another inch and the blast would have killed her just as surely as the other blast had killed Harold. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. A disturbing thought creeps into Teresa¡¯s mind. What if their goal isn''t to kill her? What if they know what she is carrying? Looking down at the briefcase clutched tightly in her other hand, Teresa decides it is best to take her chances and run. She scrambles out of the makeshift ditch and continues in the direction of the trees. Safety. Maybe. Her progress is halted when an arm materializes seemingly out of nowhere and clotheslines her. Teresa falls backward onto the ground, clutching at her aching throat. Her eyes widen when a vaguely humanoid outline appears in the air in front of her. Crawling backward, Teresa maintains her hold on the leather briefcase, and eyes the ditch directly behind her. ¡°What the¡­?¡± Teresa mutters in disbelief. ¡°What in the hell?¡± The words freeze on Teresa¡¯s lips as a trio of red dots appears on the right side of her chest. She follows the laser points to their source and her mouth drops open. Tears well at the corners of her eyes. ¡°Oh, god¡­¡± Teresa cries. And then, the world goes black. Chapter One: Cryo
21 Days Prior Dayshadow Industries United Space Systems freighter California
2099 A.D. Computer readouts come to life with loud chirps and beeps. In the habitat wing, of the United Space System scientific vessel California, several cryogenic tubes have begun to defrost. The occupants within being nourished back to minimal health by a small dosage of electrolytes; fed to them through the fluid reviving their molecularly frozen bodies. Doctor Teresa Lynette Boyd is the first to regain consciousness. She slowly sits up in her cryotube, glancing at her slumbering counterparts. Theodore McAvoy, the ship¡¯s chief engineer, is the next to awaken from his deep sleep. His eyes immediately fall on Teresa and he smiles. ¡°Morning, Sunshine!¡± Theodore drawls and runs a hand down the front of his wet t-shirt. ¡°Lookin¡¯ mighty purty, today!¡± ¡°Oh hush, Theo!¡± Teresa exclaims with a wave of her hand. She climbs carefully out of her stasis tube and heads for the lockers. Theodore¡¯s voice follows her as she goes. ¡°I hate to see you leave, Sugar! But I love to see you walk away!¡± Theodore teases. Teresa nonchalantly throws a bird over her left shoulder. - - Chief Engineer Theodore McAvoy strolls confidently down the corridor. The lead engineer and InfoTech specialist wears only a tight white t-shirt, a pair of gray shorts, and a thin layer of cryogenic gel. The gel causes Theo¡¯s skin to glisten, making the toned muscled of his arms and legs stand out more noticeably. Theo is headed for his quarters and a nice long shower. He passes by several passengers along the way. One woman, a tall brunette, gives the chief engineer an approving look and smiles as she passes him by. Theo entertains her by turning and halfway gazing at her firm derriere. She only notices because she is turned doing the same. Making his way through the throng of people in the habitat wing¡¯s common area, Theo freezes in his tracks when a deep male voice calls his name. ¡°Theo¡­Yo, Theo!¡± the voice hollers over the sounds of hustle and bustle.
Theo glances across the large open area and catches sight of Louis Brantley. He raises a hand into the air in a silent greeting. A female engineer, riding a mobile engineering cart, honks the horn on her cart and maneuvers around Theodore. He shoots her a casual head nod and watches as Louis crosses in his direction. Louis Brantley, a civilian contractor in charge of construction on the new colony, is an old friend. The two of them have been friends since they were barely knee-high. While not as tech-savvy as Theo; Louis has often worked side-by-side with him on various side projects. ¡°Hey, Louis,¡± the chief engineer drawls and holds out his right hand. Louis puts on a wide grin and takes Theodore¡¯s hand. They exchange an energetic and elaborate dap, before pulling each other close and sharing a manly hug. Louis releases Theo and laughs almost in his face. ¡°Man¡­You look like hell!¡± Louis says, pointing to the cryo gel gleaming on Theodore¡¯s flesh. ¡°I can¡¯t stand those communal showers, Louis. You know that!¡± Theo says. ¡°I want a nice long shower, surrounded by my ladies. Can¡¯t do that in there.¡±
¡°Uh¡­Huh,¡± Louis says. The large black man folds his muscled arms across his barrel chest. He peers at Theo in faux disapproval. ¡°Still got that big stack of holo-mags beside the toilet, I gather? Cause ain¡¯t no woman gonna want to be near you with all that sleep gunk on you." Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°Laugh it up, Louis,¡± Theo says. ¡°You won¡¯t be laughing when I bag Dr. Boyd and you¡¯re still walking around salivating after her like Pavlov¡¯s dog.¡± ¡°Whoa,¡± Louis says. ¡°Watch out, man.¡± Louis points across the room; where a large man with a mechanical arm, and a uniform emblazoned with the word: ¡®Security¡¯, is surveying the crowd. ¡°Dr. Boyd¡¯s personal watchdog is right there,¡± Louis says with a smirk. Theodore glances over at Security Chief Richard Crews and shrugs. He returns his attention to Louis. As far as men go, Theodore couldn¡¯t care less about Crews. But Crews¡¯ proximity to Dr. Boyd has presented Theo with a bit of a problem. Rumor has it, Crews has a thing for Dr. Teresa Boyd. They¡¯d known each other back before Crews lost his arm putting down an Earther rebellion on New Vegas. This rumored history meant that Crews stayed as close to Dr. Boyd as bees swarming honey. And as far as women went, Dr. Boyd was nearly as sweet as honey. The good doctor possessed a body that made Theo wonder how she ended up working for a washed up company like Dayshadow Industries. She could be doing literally anything. Instead, she chose to work on obscure projects at the ass-end of space. If there was any woman on this ship whose mind he wanted to pick¡ªas well as other things¡ªit was Teresa Boyd¡¯s. Maybe with one other exception. Her lab assistant, Beth¡ªor Bess, is pretty hot too. Either one would do for his purposes. A thought occurs to Theo and he looks around. ¡°If the watchdog is here¡­Where¡¯s the good doctor?¡± Theo inquires. A sly expression creeps onto the chief engineer¡¯s face. Louis¡¯ full lips twist into a disapproving smirk and he peers at Theo with narrowed eyes. ¡°She went into her quarters a few moments before you came up,¡± Louis says. ¡°Only difference is, she had the decency to wipe herself down first. Probably headed for the showers too. I¡¯m guessing you have some extra-curricular plans. Maybe a little spy action?¡±
The chief engineer places a hand over his heart and glances over at the pacing security chief. ¡°Perish the thought,¡± Theo says. ¡°What kind of man do you think I am?¡± Louis slaps Theodore on the shoulder and prepares to leave. He leans and whispers so that only Theo can hear. ¡°You forget, man,¡± Louis chuckles, ¡°I¡¯ve known you since forever. I want a copy of the vid. We can share a beer and swap fantasies later.¡± ¡°You bring the beer,¡± Theo says and shakes Louis¡¯ hand. The big black man strides away, his heavy gait taking him quickly through the milling throng of passengers and personnel. Theo purposely catches the eye of Security Chief Crews and waves. Next, he heads to his quarters. Hopefully, he isn¡¯t too late for what he has in mind.
- - Dr. Boyd emerges from the bathroom and crosses to the small kitchenette at the corner of her living space. She activates the coffee maker, and instructs it to only make one cup¡ªdecaffeinated. After seven months in and out of cryosleep, all she wants is a tall cup of sweetened coffee. Sans the caffeine jitters. As if the shakes sometimes caused by an extra-long slumber aren¡¯t enough. Once she has the coffee in hand, Teresa sits down at a small glass table and turns on the tablet computer laying on its surface. A message from Dr. Boyd¡¯s superiors, at Dayshadow Industries, is waiting in the queue. She enters her access code and a secondary verification screen loads. Teresa verifies her identity with an instant photo, finger print analysis, and a retina scan. Finally, she is permitted access to the waiting message. Message Transcript: Project Judas Resurrection has been given the green light. Proceed with all due caution. Knowledge of project is limited to members of your direct team, and those security personnel whose clearance is A2 and above. Once you reach your destination, further instructions will be given. Dr. Boyd¡¯s heart races with both excitement and fear. After seven long months of waiting, working on ancient Earth bacterial cultures, and sporadic cryonaps; the Judas Resurrection project is finally hers. She only hopes she can succeed where Dr. Tyler failed. The future of warfare in the human sphere depends on her success. No pressure. She closes out the message, logs out of her account, and puts the tablet computer to sleep. Pumping her fist, stomping her feet in a childlike fashion, and hugging herself around the waist; Teresa doesn¡¯t hesitate to show her absolute elation. A small squeal escapes Dr. Boyd¡¯s lips and she stands up from her place at the glass table. First things first; her new lab. No more studying microbes, no more waiting for the big wigs to suddenly change their minds and give the project to another¡ªmore qualified¡ªscientist. Today is her day. Teresa crosses to her mini fridge and opens the top door. Inside is a 1985 vintage merlot wrapped in red cellophane. Teresa smiles wistfully and then shuts the freezer. Maybe she¡¯ll invite Richard over for a night of celebration. It will be like old times. - - In his own living quarters, Theodore McAvoy watches Teresa¡¯s activities with a grim expression. Her overt exhilaration causes him to grow curious. What exactly was in that message? He can already guess. Chapter Two: Anticipation Cessation
Day 1 Space Vessel U.S.S. California Science Wing 11:02 hours Dr. Boyd walks briskly down the hallway, headed for the security desk. She is now dressed in her white lab coat, khaki pants, and white button-down blouse. The blouse fits a little more snuggly than she remembers, and Teresa wonders if it is possible to gain weight while in cryosleep. A guard Teresa does not recognize is on duty this morning. She gives the guard a polite nod and flashes her name badge. ¡°Dr. Teresa Boyd,¡± she says with a wide smile. ¡°I¡¯m the scientist in charge.¡± The guard barely glances at Teresa, a space hockey vid replaying on the screen in front of him. ¡°Yeah, I know who you are,¡± the guard says in a droll voice. ¡°Been briefed already. Wait a minute and I¡¯ll let you in.¡± The guard goes about the procedure with about as much finesse as a dog licking its hind end. When all access codes are accepted and he has verified his identity; the indicator light above the main lab entrance glows green. A small chime fills the air and the double doors slide open. At this, the guard does look up. As if seeing Dr. Boyd for the first time, he appraises her appearance. ¡°Don¡¯t look like any scientist I¡¯ve ever seen,¡± the guard says with an appreciative smile. ¡°Sure, you didn¡¯t get lost a time or two in the middle of deciding what career to undertake?¡± Dr. Boyd is prepared to answer, but Security Chief Richard Crews saves her the trouble. The muscled former colonial marine steps forward, his boots making loud clatter on the California¡¯s metal flooring. ¡°Quite sure that¡¯s not the kind of information you¡¯re assigned to obtain, Private Midwood,¡± Crews hisses with a sneer. The guard, caught in an awkward situation by his boss, feigns disinterest. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡°Nothing personal, Sir,¡± Midwood says, jumping to his feet and saluting. ¡°Just making small talk, Sir.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all it better be, Private,¡± Crews says. ¡°You know the policy on fraternizing.¡± ¡°Yes, Sir¡­I do, Sir,¡± Private Midwood exclaims. Crews manages a laugh and waves a hand. ¡°At ease, Private,¡± Crews says. ¡°Take a quick break. I¡¯ll escort Dr. Boyd into the labs.¡± Crews motions towards the lab entrance, implying that Dr. Boyd should go first. ¡°Please¡­¡± the large man says.
Dr. Boyd offers him a genuine smile and they head into the main lab together. - - Teresa stands at a large workstation, her hands braced on the edge of a metal table. Her eyes survey the room and she positively beams with joy. Security Chief Crews is perched on the edge of a nearby table, he smiles knowingly at Dr. Boyd. ¡°What are you thinking?¡± Crews says in a soft voice. His eyes take in every excited move Teresa makes. Teresa turns to face him, removing her hands from the table and sitting on the edge of it. Steepling her hands, she looks over the tips of her fingers at Crews. ¡°I¡¯m thinking¡­I can¡¯t wait to get to work,¡± Dr. Boyd says with a childish grin. ¡°I¡¯ve waited seven months for this. To be able to step into Dr. Tyler¡¯s shoes. To be given the chance to revive the Judas Project. To finally take the reins. It¡¯s a dream come true.¡± Crews nods quietly, a brief shadow passing over his face. Using his mechanical arm as leverage, Crews stands to his full height. ¡°Got some more things to show you,¡± the security chief says matter-of-factly. ¡°Come into the lounge. You still have to go to the cafeteria for a real meal¡­But they at least have a mini-bar. And coffee. Care to grab a cup while we discuss business?¡± ¡°Richard? Have I ever said ¡®no¡¯ to a cup of coffee?¡± Teresa says, both hands on her hips. ¡°No, Ma¡¯am¡­I don¡¯t think you ever have,¡± Crews admits. The security chief raises his arm and Dr. Boyd slips under it. The heaviness of the metal appendage, against the skin of her shoulder, brings a stab of pain to Teresa¡¯s heart. Richard has been distant since the loss of his arm. She¡¯s caught the security officer silently brooding more than once. There was a time she¡¯d believed they could be something together. Now, she is certain that can never be. Richard Crews is a man full of pride. Even if pity didn¡¯t actually factor into the equation; he would always sense it there. In every touch, every tender moment, every gentle word. She had been over the moon when he accepted the post as civilian liaison for Dayshadow Industries. The company had wanted a seasoned war hero to lead this mission. Seeding news worlds is not a task for the faint of heart. And the lifeforms they plan on seeding the newly discovered planet with are no playthings either. She doesn¡¯t like to see him brooding. This new mission has given them time together, if only as friends. Maybe stepping back into the shoes of a colonial marine is exactly what her courageous friend needs. Chapter Three: Complicated
Day 1 Space Vessel U.S.S. California Cafeteria 1304 hours Dr. Boyd hurriedly speedwalks into the employee cafeteria. At a table closest to a row of five circular viewports; two other scientists smile and wave Teresa over. Bess Trainor, the newest addition to the science team, waves the most enthusiastically¡ªher white teeth gleaming in the bright light of the cafeteria. Compared to the rest of the ship, the cafeteria is lit up like Times Square on New Years Eve. The lights so bright that Teresa rapidly blinks every time she enters. Teresa makes her way through the lunch line before taking a seat next to Bess. Casually greeting the other scientists present, Teresa turns her attention to her new lab assistant. ¡°Hello, Dr. Boyd?¡± Bess exclaims, her smile growing impossibly larger. ¡°Did you sleep well?¡± Teresa shakes her head and offers Bess a kind smile. ¡°No one sleeps well in cryo, Bess,¡± Teresa says, eating a spoonful of her orange gelatin. ¡°You just sleep. Whether you like it or not.¡± ¡°Oh. Yes,¡± Bess says quietly. ¡°I see what you mean.¡± ¡°I guess, I slept as well as can be expected for a nap that intermittently lasts several months,¡± Teresa says. Dr. Boyd feels a sting of regret watching the smile drop away from the young assistant¡¯s face. After all, it''s not such a bad thing to have a sunny disposition. If she could give Bess Trainor a nickname; it''d be Sunny...Or maybe Flighty. Her new assistant is not only cheerful, but very naive. Not such a good thing to be in deep space. ¡°Sometimes, I wish the company would get off their cheap butts and order some more stasis pods," Dr. Boyd complains loudly. "So we don¡¯t have to share. It¡¯d be nice to not have to wake up every few weeks to Theodore¡¯s crazy mug. I tell you¡­That man. Ugh. He¡¯s such an ass. Thinks he¡¯s the universe¡¯s gift to women. I suppose it could be worse, though. I could have awakened from a seven-month nightmare suffering from space psychosis.¡± ¡°Yeah, you could have¡­¡± a loud voice says to Teresa¡¯s left. Teresa turns to see Theodore McAvoy standing beside her. The chief engineer¡¯s face is one large grin, and he looks down at Teresa¡ªor rather her cleavage, with a slyness which only the most seasoned of womanizers can muster. Teresa feigns ignorance as to the reason he is there and moves to get up. ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­Were you planning on sitting here?¡± Teresa says, eyeing Theo¡¯s heaping plate of food. ¡°I can sit somewhere else.¡± Theodore puts a hand on Teresa¡¯s left shoulder to keep her rooted to her seat. He squeezes in and uses his hips and thighs to push her over on the bench. Teresa can feel every hair on her neck stand on end as the wolfish engineer fixes her with his steely gaze. There is a darkness brewing there which Dr. Boyd can¡¯t quite figure out. Almost as if the man is challenging her. ¡°Don¡¯t bother,¡± Theo says. ¡°There¡¯s room enough.¡± Bess looks over Teresa and eyeballs Theodore. Her usually pale skin turns a faint pink. ¡°Hello, Mr. McAvoy,¡± Bess coos. Bess'' lips form into an unrealistic pout as she tries to impress the chief engineer. Theodore only acknowledges her with a head nod and then returns his attention to Teresa. ¡°You gonna eat that?¡± Theodore says, before spearing a sweet potato fry from Teresa¡¯s plate and chewing it slowly. ¡°I was,¡± Teresa answers. With a sigh, she glances down at her plate and then turns to Theodore in frustration. ¡°Is there a reason you chose to sit here, Theo? Do you not have some serious engineering or tech specialist stuff you could be discussing with your team?¡± ¡°Already done that,¡± Theo replies. His eyes slide over Teresa¡¯s body and his grin returns. ¡°Probably while you ladies were showering and getting all beautified.¡± ¡°Uh¡­Huh,¡± Teresa says. Realizing she is getting nowhere trying to get Theodore to leave the table, Teresa returns her attention to her meal. Theodore¡¯s right hand caressing the inner part of her thigh causes Teresa to whirl on him. At first, she sits still as a statue¡ªovercome by shock and disbelief. Her shock quickly wears off and is replaced by a white hot fury. Turning completely towards Theo, she smacks him across the face with her left hand. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± Teresa hollers. Bess and the two other scientists, seated at the table, immediately stare at the two quarrelling people. Teresa expects Theodore to become angry. Instead, he simply grins even wider. ¡°I like a feisty woman,¡± Theo says in a silky voice. ¡°They make me hot all over!¡± Teresa¡¯s face twists with rage and she leans as close to Theodore as she dares. ¡°I am sending a communique directly to your superiors. You¡¯ll never work on a freighter again! Or any other vessel, for that matter!¡± Teresa threatens. Theodore is unfazed. In fact, he appears encouraged. Thoughts of blackmail and company secrets whirling in his twisted mind. Reaching up and grabbing Teresa¡¯s face, he kisses her hard on the mouth. Teresa¡¯s initial shock, produced by the chief engineer¡¯s brazen behavior, grows. At this point, she is now thoroughly incensed. She shoves at Theodore¡¯s chest and shouts in his face. She glances around for Security Chief Crews, and comes up wanting. ¡°Move, Theo! Now.¡± Teresa yells. ¡°Let me up!¡± Theodore remains planted in his spot on the bench. He blinks slowly and sarcastically. ¡°No,¡± he says. The smarmy engineer simply crosses his arms over his broad chest and turns up his chin arrogantly. ¡°You could always ask nicely though.¡± ¡°I¡­You want me to¡­You go to hell, McAvoy!¡± Teresa stammers. By now, her usually light-brown skin has become infused with a tinge of red. ¡°I said, let me out of this seat. Or, I¡¯m calling security.¡± ¡°You mean, your boy...Security Chief Crews,¡± Theo mocks. ¡°Oh¡­I forgot to tell you. He¡¯s on an important detail. Something about some of the stasis pods going offline. A few of the passengers nearly died. One passenger was seriously injured. Space psychosis, I heard. A lot of the marines got called to assess damage and do a passenger headcount. I said, I¡¯d run a full systems diagnostic in the meantime. Company wants to make sure it was an isolated incident. Don¡¯t want any more glitches in the system. Who knows what could be affected. So, you see Dr. Boyd¡­No one is coming to save you.¡± Harold Bashir, Teresa¡¯s resident lab technician, has just finished loading his tray at the cafeteria¡¯s hot bar. Catching on to what is happening, Harold leaves his tray on the bar and strolls toward the table full of scientists¡ªand one troublesome engineer. He stops on a line with Theodore and looks down at the slightly bigger man. ¡°You heard Dr. Boyd,¡± Harold says. ¡°She wants you to move.¡±
Theodore glances at Harold in annoyance and then waves a hand in the air. ¡°Beat it, string-bean,¡± Theodore says with a rude chuckle. ¡°Adults are talking.¡± ¡°Okay then,¡± Harold says. In the next moment, Theodore¡¯s head is pinging off of the metal table. Blood pours from the engineer¡¯s nose and Harold slams his head again, gripping the bigger man¡¯s hair in a clenched fist. Bess squeals in fear and the scientists across the table leap to their feet. They stare at the two men with a mixture of anxiety and disgust. To the scientists, the men¡¯s brutish fight is crude behavior to display aboard such an esteemed vessel as the California. ¡°Dr. Boyd asked you to move!¡± Harold yells. ¡°Now move! I¡¯m a black belt! Don¡¯t make me show how I earned my rank on you!¡± Theodore raises both hands in surrender, before covering his nose and climbing from the bench. He only looks back once in his hurry to leave the cafeteria. Teresa turns to Harold with an expression of gratitude. ¡°Thanks, Harold. But I was getting around to making him leave on my own,¡± Teresa says with a wink. ¡°Sure, Dr. Boyd,¡± Harold replies with a grin. ¡°But does this mean I get a raise? A promotion? A cookie?¡± Teresa slaps Harold on his right shoulder and laughs heartily. ¡°We¡¯ll see,¡± she says. ¡°But first, we need to clean up this blood. Eck, Harold¡­There¡¯s even some on your sleeve.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the boss,¡± Harold says with a wide smile. Teresa slides out of the seat and reaches for Harold¡¯s right forearm. She leads him away from the table and out the door of the cafeteria. Harold allows her to lead him. - - Day 1 Laboratory Room 12 Science Wing United Space Systems Vessel California 13:23 hours Harold sits on the edge of the same table Security Chief Crews was perched on only mere hours before. The blue work jumpsuit he wears is open halfway, the two folds of material hanging around his waist. His white t-shirt is damp with sweat and he silently watches Teresa as she removes the spots of Theo¡¯s blood on the sleeve of his jumpsuit.
Dr. Boyd takes a tiny penlight over the surface, the particles of the beam slowly removing microscopic particles of the stain from the material of Harold¡¯s clothes. When she is satisfied that the job is done, Teresa glances up into Harold¡¯s face with a broad smile. She powers down the penlight and shoves it into a slot on the front of her lab coat. Slapping her hands on the front of her legs, she wears an expression of sheer triumph. ¡°There,¡± Teresa cries. ¡°All done. Good as new.¡± Harold utters a shy thanks and shrugs back into the top of his jumpsuit. It isn¡¯t every day that your boss sees you in your undershirt. But then again, almost everyone on this ship has seen everyone else in a compromising position or two. Cryosleep requires a person to be pretty much nude. Although, most prefer to wear at least undies. Women waking up from cryo have it hardest. Men can at least warm up their intimate parts before climbing out. A woman¡¯s top is pretty much exposed immediately upon waking. And the showers, if one chooses to use them, are communal. Not very woman friendly. None of the men seem to mind, though. That¡¯s just how space is. Cold, unforgiving, and for profit. Too many privileges, means less money for the shareholders. At least, the labs have their own private shower room. Harold cuts his musing short and drops down off the table. He offers Dr. Boyd a friendly head nod. ¡°Thanks, Doc,¡± Harold says. ¡°You fixed me up real nice.¡± Harold turns to leave, but Teresa lightly touches his arm. ¡°How about a cup of coffee?¡± Teresa says. ¡°I can make us some fresh in the lounge. Besides, you didn¡¯t even eat your lunch because of that pig Theo. It¡¯s the least I can do.¡± Harold nods agreeably. ¡°Okay. Sure,¡± the thin technician says. His heart flutters wildly in his chest. Chapter Four: Morality Bites
Day 3 Laboratory Room 12 Science Wing United Space Systems Vessel California 11:13 hours Dr. Boyd studies several digital readouts on her computer screen. Bess enters Dr. Boyd¡¯s lab room with two steaming mugs of tea. She sets one in front of Teresa with a kind smile. Teresa lifts the mug from the desk in front of her and takes a long whiff of the steam wafting over the top. While not a huge fan of tea, she can appreciate its finer qualities. Putting the mug to her lips, she takes a tiny sip.
¡°Lovely,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Thank you, Bess.¡± ¡°No problem, Dr. Boyd,¡± Bess replies and takes a sip of her own tea. Planting herself in a nearby chair, Bess glances at the screen Teresa was studying only moments before. ¡°Any changes?¡± Bess asks. ¡°Nope,¡± Teresa answers with a sigh. ¡°I still can¡¯t seem to get the proteins to bond like we theorized. I think we¡®ll have to scrap what we¡¯ve got and try again. From the ground up.¡± ¡°Oh no,¡± Bess cries in disappointment. ¡°After all your hard work?¡± ¡°Our hard work, Bess,¡± Teresa exclaims. ¡°Our hard work. I may be the scientist in charge¡­But we¡¯re all a team. Don¡¯t forget that!¡± ¡°Yeah¡­But it won¡¯t be my name on a Nobel Prize,¡± Bess says sullenly. ¡°Hey,¡± Teresa exclaims. ¡°If I have anything to say about it¡­Everyone gets accolades. Including you, Bess. This is some great stuff we¡¯re doing here. It could revolutionize modern warfare. No more sending troops in to die. We can send our mutant super-soldiers in to do all our bidding instead. No more human casualties. At least, not on our side. Not for a while. But, as per usual, I¡¯m sure the bad guys will eventually figure out what we¡¯ve done and start their own bioweapons super-soldier program. Corporate espionage ensues. Money changes hands. Then, it¡¯ll be back to the drawing board. Dr. Tyler¡­She was onto something. But these babies¡­Even the ones that didn¡¯t survive the initial testing phase¡­They¡¯re the real deal. If I can get the protein bonds to work. They¡¯ll be nearly indestructible.¡± Bess appears conflicted. She circles the rim of her mug with a solitary finger and stares into the liquid within. ¡°Do you think what we¡¯re doing is right, Dr. Boyd?¡± Bess says softly. Teresa is honestly unsure of how to answer. She has asked herself this same question many times. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Bess,¡± she responds. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But I don¡¯t like the idea of humans killing each other by the thousands every day either. Just so some rich prick can call him or herself a patriot. I¡¯d rather something else died for a change. No one cares about cockroaches. We kill them by the millions every year. With pesticides, newspapers¡­Hell, even our shower slippers. No one is going to care about some humanoid-sized cockroaches being killed in the middle of deep space. Would you?¡± ¡°Yeah, but¡­¡± Bess says haltingly. ¡°Do you think we should be playing with things like this? What if something goes wrong? What if they can think? Maybe even reason? The company¡­They were so hush-hush about what all happened with the last Judas Project. What if we¡¯re not being told everything?¡± For the first time since awakening from cryosleep, a shiver courses Teresa¡¯s spine. ¡°Well. In that case, I suppose there will be hell to pay,¡± Teresa utters. She looks toward the viewport opposite her desk. ¡°But in space¡­Would anyone hear us scream?¡± - -
Day 7 This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Laboratory Room 12 Science Wing United Space Systems Vessel California 05:46 hours Theo inserts a small USB device into a slot on the front of Dr. Boyd¡¯s desktop computer. Overriding the identification protocols, he accesses the files most recently opened. He copies the files to his device, not bothering to read them. He cannot risk anyone from security¡ªespecially Crews¡ªcatching him in here. Sure, he can always make up some excuse about work orders and yada yada. But why take chances. Better to read the documents in the security of his own quarters. Anything not immediately useful can be squirreled away with all the other stuff he¡¯s used as blackmail fodder throughout the years. Out of sheer curiosity, Theo begins exploring other less relevant files in Dr. Boyd¡¯s computer. He happens upon several folders full of what looks like journal entries. Personal journal entries. With a wicked grin, the chief engineer pirates these folders as well. He glances through her photos, hoping to find real treasure. The most he finds is a picture of Dr. Boyd side by side with Chief Crews in what looks like New Vegas. Security Chief Crews is not yet sporting his mechanical arm. So the photo was obviously taken many years ago. Like they always say: ¡®Pictures or it didn¡¯t happen.¡¯ Finishing his dirty work, Theo shuts everything back down. He glances over at the holding tanks, where the Judases will be housed, with a sly grin. ¡°Until that time,¡± the engineer says under his breath. ¡°Until that time.¡± - - Day 8 Habitat Wing Teresa¡¯s Quarters 22:36 hours Teresa lies awake in bed, watching simulated animals traverse the ceiling of her quarters. Putting both hands under her head, she focuses on a mother hippo with her offspring. After a moment of staring, Teresa¡¯s eyes narrow to thin slits. Suddenly, it is as if a gun has been fired. Teresa sits up in bed, her eyes widening. ¡°The proteins,¡± Teresa whispers into the darkness. ¡°I know how I can get them to bond.¡± Teresa leaps out of bed. Not even bothering to dress, she throws on her robe and heads for the lift which will take her to the science wing of the ship. -
- Laboratory Room 12 Science Wing United Space Systems Vessel California 01:21 hours ¡°Yes,¡± Teresa cheers. She stares at the screen in front of her¡ªjoy written all over her face. ¡°Yes! I knew it!¡± A loud crash behind her causes Teresa to turn around in her chair. She expects to find Bess, Harold, or maybe a janitor. She does not expect to find Chief Engineer Theodore McAvoy. Teresa pulls her robe tighter, glad she is at least wearing undergarments underneath. What had she been thinking? Coming here alone? And after hours? When most everyone would be asleep? She had been in such a rush to test her theory, she had thrown caution to the wind. ¡°What are you doing in here, Theodore?¡± Teresa says, trying to keep any sign of fear from seeping into her words. Theodore takes a step closer, stepping into a beam of light from the adjacent room. In that single beam of light, he resembles a demonic villain. His eyes appearing sunk in and completely void of color. ¡°Computer¡­Lights,¡± Teresa says. The room¡¯s lights immediately click on, causing both Teresa and Theodore to flinch from the sudden brightness. Theodore shields his brow with one hand and gazes in Teresa¡¯s direction. ¡°Bess told me you were having some issues down here,¡± Theodore says. ¡°Said maybe some faulty wiring was messing with a few of the computers and systems. I came down here to check it out. Wanted to wait until no one was using ¡®em. Better that way. Didn¡¯t know you¡¯d be in here.¡± Teresa has no choice but to accept Theodore¡¯s answer. The science team has been experiencing a few technical problems of late. With a delicate¡ªdangerous¡ªproject like the Judas Resurrection Project; they can ill afford any screw ups. Dr. Boyd shifts in her chair. ¡°So are we good?¡± Teresa inquires. She casually minimizes the files open on her computer. A game of classic pinball is now displayed on the screen. ¡°Seems like it,¡± Theodore says in a dry voice. ¡°That¡¯s wonderful,¡± Teresa replies with more enthusiasm than she feels. ¡°Thank you, Mr. McAvoy. Good night.¡± Teresa¡¯s breath catches in her throat when Theodore takes another few steps in her direction. She casually looks around for a weapon and comes up with nothing much¡ªexcept a small paperweight, some beakers, and an empty glass soda bottle. Theodore stops beside her chair, and looks down into her face. Bending forward, he pretends to be interested in what¡¯s on her screen. Teresa knows he is intentionally trying to rattle her¡ªand most likely staring at her cleavage. He turns his head, and their faces are less than six inches apart. He fixes his gaze on her lips and then raises his eyes to meet hers.
¡°You let me know if you have any other troubles, ya hear?¡± he says wryly. ¡°Sure,¡± Teresa says, keeping her eyes on his face. Without another word, the chief engineer rises to his full height and strolls from the room. Teresa takes a deep breath and then begins to shake. Common sense tells her that she has barely averted disaster. Keeping cool is probably the only thing that saved her from an unfortunate situation. The engineer has not forgotten about the beating he took on her behalf. And one day, he will remind her of that. Teresa is sure of it. She considers sending a message to Security Chief Crews. Then, reconsiders. And tell him what? She will just have to keep a closer eye on the chief engineer from now on. Chapter Five: Leaps and Bounds
Day 11 Laboratory Room 12 Science Wing United Space Systems Vessel California 16:16 hours Teresa claps her hands in excitement before reaching for a large glass container. Inside the container, a roach-like creature crawls slowly over a mound of detritus. Teresa twirls in her seat to face Harold and Bess, who have just walked into the laboratory. ¡°Ladies and Gentleman¡­You are looking at¡­The new and improved Judas Breed 4.0,¡± Teresa laughs. Bess squeals and walks quickly to stand beside Teresa¡¯s chair. She carefully takes the heavy glass container from her boss¡¯ hands. ¡°Oh wow,¡± Bess coos. ¡°She¡¯s beautiful!¡± Harold rolls his eyes and shrugs. He peers at the insect inside the container with an expression which says he''d much rather blow chucks of last week''s salad than be in the same room with it. ¡°Not exactly the word I would use to describe that thing,¡± Harold says. ¡°But to each their own.¡± Harold awkwardly takes the glass container from Bess and studies the abominable thing inside. He looks askance at Teresa. ¡°She¡¯s rather big,¡± Harold says, concern in his voice. ¡°How many generations did it take to achieve viability?¡± Teresa pulls both feet up into the chair and reclines her chin on her knees. Harold watches his boss with interest, secretly longing for the day when he can reveal his true feelings. Maybe once their project is complete. Roaches aren¡¯t the only things that can breed on this ship. However, Harold is sure that once they¡¯ve fleshed out their relationship status, he will be forced to leave the team. No fraternization clauses and all that. ¡°Well,¡± Teresa begins. ¡°While you two were off enjoying a nice three day weekend¡­I was here in the lab¡­With my babies. This girl is a fourth gen. The growth accelerator is working as intended. The first few specimens died after only nine to thirteen hours. Most were sterile. No forced parthenogenesis. No viable eggs. I had no choice but to go the artificial insemination route. This girl has lived for fifteen hours. And counting. But¡ª,¡± Teresa drops her feet back to the floor and nearly leaps from her chair. Exiting her private lab, and entering the main laboratory, Dr. Boyd practically skips over to a small stasis ball in a wall cubicle. She waves Harold and Bess over. The lab assistant, and the technician, approach cautiously. Teresa waves more excitedly, urging them to hurry. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Come on. Come on. It won¡¯t bite,¡± Teresa chuckles. Bess¡¯ mouth drops open as she catches a glimpse of what is inside the wall cubicle. ¡°Oh my god,¡± Bess exclaims. ¡°An oothecae. Dr. Boyd, she had babies. Oh my god¡­It birthed viable young. ¡± ¡°Now¡­Hold on there, Bess,¡± Teresa cautions. ¡°We don¡¯t know that. It could be a dud. All we can do is wait. But I also suspect...She''s got another bun in the oven. We''ll know in an hour or two." Harold presses his face to the glass of the stasis wall cubicle and stares at the egg case inside. ¡°It¡¯s so big, Dr. Boyd,¡± he says with alarm. ¡°How many eggs do you think are in there?¡± Teresa shrugs and claps both hands. ¡°Who knows?¡± she exclaims. ¡°And I¡¯m not going to risk harming those eggs. We¡¯ll just have to put our old patience caps on and wait until they hatch.¡± Harold takes this as his cue and puts an arm around both women¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I think this is cause for a celebration,¡± Harold says between a laugh. ¡°I¡¯m buying dinner.¡± Teresa gives Harold a quizzical look. ¡°It¡¯s only 4:30 in the afternoon, Harold,¡± she says. ¡°So, we¡¯ll eat early,¡± Harold insists, peering down into Teresa¡¯s smiling face. ¡°Maybe later, we can all tell stories and eat s''mores by the light of a simulated fire?¡± Teresa stares up into Harold¡¯s face, almost certain that she should be reading more between the lines of his actual words. There is a new tension in their relationship. She has felt it for a few days now. And for just as many days, she has chosen to ignore it. It is for the best. She cannot afford to get sidetracked. ¡°Okay. An early dinner it is,¡± Teresa says agreeably. Harold¡¯s eyes narrow slightly and his smile broadens.
¡°Great. Let¡¯s go,¡± Harold chimes with excitement. Harold still has his arms draped over both women¡¯s shoulders as they leave the main laboratory. On Teresa¡¯s desk, the over-sized cockroach takes a bite of the dead material littering the bottom of its glass case. - - Habitat Wing Chief Engineer McAvoy storms angrily through the corridor. His eyes are narrowed and his mouth is drawn into a firm line. He crosses the spacious common area without acknowledging a single wave or greeting. He is a man on a mission. Authenticating his identity and stepping into his quarters, Theodore plops down on his plush desk chair and powers on his computer. Theo''s hands fly over the keyboard and he shoves an earpiece into his ear. An encrypted message glows on the screen. While a computerized voice emanates from the computer''s speakers. "The message you are about to download has been sent from a secure channel. Only authorized personnel may view the information contained within this message. Please do not open this message or disseminate it in any way, if you do not have clearance to view this encrypted information. Please proceed with the necessary identity verification protocols." "Oh, cut the crap!" Theo says under his breath. "Always trying to cover their asses." Furiously typing in various passwords, and performing other verification actions, Theo sighs when he finally is able to view the message. A smile explodes onto his face. "That''s what I like to see," Theo nearly groans with ecstacy. "I figured that was how this was gonna play out." Typing expediently, Theo sends an encrypted reply. Now, all he has to do it wait. Climbing to his feet, Theo decides to take a nice long shower. Now, comes the hard part. Sonic shower, or gallons and gallons of hot Dayshadow Industries supplied water from the storage tanks? Theo decides to go with the water. Even at two credits a gallon, he figures he can now afford it. Chapter Six: Entanglements
Day 12 Habitat Wing Razorback Caf¨¦ United Space Systems Vessel California 17:42 hours Bess Trainor is seated in a booth underneath a multi-color canopy. The artificial U.V. light above casts a large spotlight around the dining area. The table in front of Beth is littered with various papers; case studies, personnel files, x-rays, and scientific journals. A pair of pink reading glasses sits atop the bridge of her nose. Beth mutters to herself as she uses a finger to follow along with a line of text. Another finger lands on the page and Bess follows it to the arm it is attached to. The arm belongs to Chief Engineer Theodore McAvoy. ¡°Hi,¡± Theo says, offering Bess his most friendly smile. ¡°Mind if I sit here?¡± Bess removes her reading glasses and squares away the items spread out across the table. ¡°Oh¡­No,¡± Bess stammers. ¡°Please, sit down.¡± Theodore sets his plate, with English muffin and mug of coffee, on the table. He stares across the table at Bess, but remains silent. Bess waves the folded pair of reading glasses. ¡°I only wear these to read,¡± Bess volunteers. She is secretly worried that Theodore is judging her on account of the glasses. ¡°No¡­No. No worries,¡± Theodore replies. His voice is soft and reassuring. ¡°I like your glasses. I think they make you look more¡­Professional.¡± Bess relaxes just a little. She taps the frames of the reading glasses against her upper lip. ¡°You do?¡± she inquires in disbelief. ¡°I do,¡± Theodore says. ¡°Oh,¡± Bess says and puts the glasses back on her face. A wide grin spreads across Theodore¡¯s face and he leans across the table. ¡°There she is,¡± Theodore says seductively. His gaze shifts to the papers Bess has been studying. ¡°What¡¯s all this? Writing a thesis for med school?¡± ¡°No¡­Uh, doing research into a project me and Dr. Boyd are working on,¡± Bess says. ¡°I can¡¯t tell you what it is though.¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Theodore twists his face into a sarcastic smirk and pulls one of the case files in front of him. He uses a flat palm, pressed atop the file, to turn the papers where he can read them. He raises his gaze to meet Bess¡¯ once again and forces a smile. ¡°Judas Project. Dr. Susan Tyler,¡± Theodore laughs. ¡°I seem to recollect a case like this. Sometime in the late part of the twentieth century. If memory serves me¡­Things didn¡¯t go so well! You think you and the doc can do any better?¡± Bess once again removes the glasses from her face. She offers Theodore a smug smile. ¡°Well, we¡¯re sure as hell going to try,¡± Bess retorts. ¡°It¡¯s our job.¡± ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sure it is,¡± Theodore replies. ¡°So, what¡¯s the doc¡¯s problem anyway? She doesn¡¯t seem to like me very much.¡± Bess is quick to defend her Boss. She pats Theodore¡¯s hand gently. ¡°Oh¡­It¡¯s not that,¡± Bess says. ¡°It¡¯s just that¡­She thinks you come on a little strong. You do have that tendency.¡± ¡°Do I now?¡± Theodore says, placing his other hand atop Bess¡¯s. ¡°And is that a problem for you?¡± Bess¡¯ face is transformed by a smile which nearly covers her entire countenance. She leans forward across the table and Theodore meets her halfway. After a brief kiss, they separate. ¡°Not at all,¡± Bess replies. ¡°I like my men strong.¡± Theodore drops his hand, and reaches beneath the table. He gently massages Bess¡¯ thigh. She gazes across at him, eyes aglow with youthful passion. Theodore''s mouth curls into a wolfish grin. ¡°Maybe, we¡¯d better go someplace a little more private?¡± Theo suggests. ¡°Maybe we should,¡± Bess agrees. "My quarters aren''t far." Theo''s eyes narrow, and his grin widens. "Lead the way, little lady," Theo drawls, falling back on his usual way of talking. Bess chuckles and squeezes the hand massaging her thigh. "Room 346AG. But, we''d better not be seen together. It might look kind of bad. And Dr. Boyd will be furious," Bess explains. "Give me ten minutes. Then, follow me." Bess climbs to her feet and clears the table, shoving the items into her carrying bag. She drapes her hand across Theo''s chest, arm, and back before heading in the direction of her quarters. Theo watches her leave, already plotting how the evening will go. - - Day 12 Habitat Wing Bess Trainor''s Quarters United Space Systems Vessel California 17:57 hours Chief Engineer Theodore McAvoy rolls onto his back and glances over at Bess as she sleeps. Bess is half inside the blanket and half out of it, one leg hanging partially off of the bed. Theodore does not correct her positioning because he does not wish to wake her.
Climbing from the bed, Theodore carefully slides Bess¡¯ medical tablet from her carrying bag. He turns the tablet on, adjusts the volume, and inserts the USB information scalping device into a port on the tablet¡¯s side. Images and text flash across the screen as Theodore inputs various commands. After approximately ten minutes, Theodore has all the information he needs. In order to circumvent some of the security measures put in place by company security; he will need more than just two sets of codes. Only members of the Judas Resurrection Project, and the highest ranking security personnel, will have the necessary codes. And it¡¯s not like he can walk up to Crews and ask him for them. Screwing hare-brained Bess was a lot easier, and a lot more fun. Theodore ejects the device and then shuts off the tablet. Replacing the computer in Bess¡¯ carrying bag, he drops the bag back in its place beside the chair. Next, he conceals the device containing the stolen information in a small pouch¡ªwhich he places into the right leg pocket of his work pants. Checking to be sure the Velcro on the pocket is sealed all the way across, Theodore leaves the pants on the chair back and crosses to the bed. Pulling back the blanket, Theodore climbs back in bed beside Bess. He pulls her to him, as she stirs, and kisses her passionately. Bess only too eagerly returns his passion. Theodore can only smile. Everything is going according to plan. Chapter Seven: Fraternizing
Day 14 Science Wing Laboratory Room 12 United Space Systems Vessel California 17:41 hours Out of formality, rather than necessity, Harold knocks on the door to Teresa¡¯s private lab. Teresa waves him inside and he enters. Before shutting the door, Harold glances briefly at his other colleagues, who are laboring over their various pet projects at the main lab¡¯s workstations. Teresa¡¯s face wears a warm smile, but Harold can sense the weariness there as well. She looks exhausted. ¡°Have a seat, Harold,¡± Teresa says and goes back to typing on her tablet computer. Harold drops down into the chair and offers Teresa a smile of his own. ¡°When¡¯s the last time you got any sleep?¡± Harold inquires, concern in his voice. Teresa doesn¡¯t raise her head, only her eyes. She offers him a coy smirk and crooks one eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯ll sleep when I¡¯m dead,¡± she says in a wry voice. ¡°What about you? Sleeping much?¡± ¡°I catch a few winks here and there,¡± Harold says and leans over the desk. ¡°But I¡¯m not the one in charge of a massively important scientific breakthrough. You are. You need to get more rest. Mistakes can happen when we¡¯re not at our best. You need to be careful. From what I¡¯ve heard about these bugs¡­From the previous attempts¡­They¡¯re nothing to play around with. I don¡¯t want anything happening to you.¡± Teresa¡¯s mouth becomes a firm line and Harold realizes that he may have said too much. He tries to backpedal, but it is too late. ¡°I just mean that¡­You¡¯re an integral part of this team,¡± Harold continues. ¡°Your insight and your expertise is valuable to this project, Dr. Boyd. Your knowledge and ability to see things others have overlooked is the only reason we¡¯ve gotten this far. I don¡¯t want to see anything get in the way of the goals we¡¯ve set. You need to take better care of yourself.¡± Teresa is quiet for a moment. When she finally speaks again, her voice is calm and level. She places a hand over Harold¡¯s and his heart begins to race. ¡°I¡¯m deeply touched by your concern, Harold,¡± Teresa says. ¡°But, you needn¡¯t worry. I¡¯m a workaholic. Always have been. Hasn¡¯t slowed me down yet. In fact, I think I¡¯m the better for it. I see angles to a problem, and solutions, that others don¡¯t see¡­Because I take the time to look for them. I don¡¯t always get it right. But I will work hard until I do. That¡¯s who I am. I can¡¯t change that now. It wouldn¡¯t be me.¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Harold nods without much enthusiasm and places both hands on the armrests of the chair¡ªpreparing to stand. Teresa¡¯s voice halts him. ¡°You¡¯ll be happy to know¡­¡± Teresa begins. ¡°We only lost one specimen. Subject thirteen was dead inside its tank when I came in this morning. I did spy an oothecae in the corner of thirteen¡¯s tank. So there¡¯s that. Maybe, the next generation will be better off genetically. Here¡¯s hoping. That brings us to eighteen live specimens¡ªfourteen adults and four juveniles. And six new oothecaes. So far. We¡¯re making great progress.¡± Harold nods in agreement, but his heart clenches at the idea of so many live specimens. The Judases seem to be breeding much faster, and the specimens are definitely experiencing longer life spans. No longer requiring artificial insemination, several of the females appeared to have been born pregnant. Another specimen had proven to be a male, and very fertile. The male Judas bug, when introduced to two adult females, had inseminated them both within four hours. The resulting offspring had been nearly double the size of their predecessors. However, only one specimen of that generation had survived. Harold is grateful that the bugs¡¯ large size has limited the number of offspring emerging from the oothecaes. The average leans toward two offspring per egg sac, with the maximum being four. The sacs containing more than two usually result in duds¡ªthe bugs inside literally starving from lack of nutrients. The team has been steadily increasing the dosage of growth hormones administered to each generation of the Judas roach. The largest adult roach is now the size of a well-fed pit-bull. Harold doubts the wisdom of continuing to breed such a formidable insect. Maybe that is why the company wished for the experiment to be held in space? If anything should go wrong, would people back on Earth ever learn the truth of what happened here? ¡°Harold? What are you thinking?¡± Teresa says. She leans over the table. There is genuine concern in her voice. ¡°I¡¯m worried¡­¡± Harold begins, ¡°That we may be biting off more than we can chew. Don¡¯t you think we should stop? I mean, put a pause on the growth hormones? At least, until we can be sure how large the subsequent generations will get? We keep injecting these things¡­Who knows how far this will go? I think we should step back and let nature take over for a little while. Maybe balance things out. Survival of the fittest style.¡±
Teresa releases a deep sigh and runs a hand through her black hair. ¡°Believe me, Harold,¡± Teresa says. ¡°I¡¯ve thought about that. But Dayshadow says we only have a small window before other companies and corporations are crawling up our butt to develop the same technology. Unfortunately for humanity, war is a thriving business. Peace doesn¡¯t create weapons contracts. And without weapons contracts¡­The governments of the world can¡¯t retain power. So here we are. We¡¯re in the middle of a war, Harold. A weapons war between every powerful faction throughout the human sphere¡­And possibly beyond. If we don¡¯t finish this project¡­Someone else will. I¡¯ll sleep better at night knowing it was our project. That we did it first. Well¡­After Dr. Tyler of course. We did it better. I trust myself. And I trust my team.¡± Harold shrugs and offers Teresa a wistful smile. ¡°Well¡­If you¡¯re sure,¡± he says in a quiet voice. Rising from his chair, he shoots Teresa a stern look. ¡°Think about what I said, okay?¡± Harold whispers. He draws his mouth into a firm line and shoves both hands into the back pockets of his work jumpsuit. ¡°Sure, Harold,¡± Teresa replies. Harold leaves Lab Room Twelve and heads to the workstation where Bess is busily charting their progress with the most recent batch of juvenile specimens. He looks over at the door to Lab Twelve; only to find Teresa standing there¡ªarms crossed over her chest. Grabbing a set of beakers from the counter, Harold moves out of Teresa¡¯s line of sight. He doesn¡¯t trust himself enough not to betray what he is feeling at the moment. Chapter Eight: Now Is The Time
Day 14 Science Wing United Space Systems Vessel California 23:01 hours Chief Engineer Theodore McAvoy strolls confidently down the hallway. The surrounding offices and laboratories are nearly devoid of personnel. Most of whom have gone off shift or are already in bed. Private Daria Ogievich is seated at the security desk. She glances up as Theodore approaches, and makes a dramatic show of popping her chewing gum. The chief engineer appraises Daria approvingly. Whatever else she may be, rugged, colonial marine, possibly butch; Daria is still very much a woman. Her bright red hair and freckles belie the Russian heritage she touts so proudly. More like an amalgamation of blended blood, Theodore is almost sure.
¡°You¡¯re up late, Mr. McAvoy,¡± Daria says with a sly grin. ¡°Someone keeping you up at night?¡± Theodore leans on the security desk and offers Daria his most cunning smile. ¡°Not tonight,¡± he says cryptically, drawing a finger along the edge of the desk. ¡°Actually, I¡¯ve got some work to do in Lab Twelve. Dr. Boyd says her programs have been glitching out again. Wants me to check the feeds. Make sure everything is running right. I¡¯ve got a real busy schedule tomorrow and I don¡¯t have time to be traveling halfway across the ship for a ten-minute checkup job. Figure I¡¯d do it tonight and get it over with. Can you let me in? I have the pass codes to the inner lab, but you¡¯ll have to let me in the main.¡± Daria seems unsure at first. She looks at the intercom, considering whether or not she should call Dr. Boyd for confirmation. ¡°I¡¯m not sure that I can¡­¡± Daria begins. Theodore cuts her off with a raised finger. He pretends to change his mind. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll come back when Dr. Boyd is here,¡± Theodore says with an exaggerated sigh. ¡°I just thought the doctor would appreciate me not being underfoot. I know she doesn¡¯t really enjoy my presence. I figured, I¡¯d do the work tonight¡­And she can go back to business as usual tomorrow. Like I said, I have the codes already for the inner lab. I just need you to open the main doors with your access code. No big deal. I¡¯ll just delegate some of my smaller jobs to Montel. I¡¯ll make it work. See you later.¡± This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Daria reaches out a hand and grips Theodore¡¯s forearm to stop him from leaving. She smiles apologetically. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mr. McAvoy¡ª,¡± Daria says. ¡°Theodore¡­,¡± Theo volunteers with a wide grin. ¡°Theodore,¡± Daria says, returning his grin. ¡°I¡¯ll let you into the lab. Just give me a moment.¡± Theodore places a hand over his heart and releases a dramatic sigh. ¡°Thanks, Daria. You¡¯re a lifesaver,¡± Theodore drawls. - - Theodore enters Laboratory Twelve and quietly shuts the door. Grateful that Dayshadow is too cheap to continuously run more than a few lights on the ship¡¯s decks, Theo does not speak the voice command for the lights to come on. He doesn¡¯t need lights to see what he is doing. He crosses to Teresa¡¯s computer and switches it on. Theodore lays his workbag on the desk. He removes a long cable, the USB scalping device, and a folding keyboard. Attaching the scalping device and the keyboard, to ports on the desktop; Theodore calmly feeds commands into the system. A series of images fills the computer screen. Every single feed, showing the various stages of Judas development, is on the computer''s display. Theodore punches another command and the feeds for containment cells one, seven, ten, and thirteen go dark. He enters yet another command and a computer access code prompt appears onscreen. Theodore simply inputs Bess¡¯ access code.
¡°Thank you¡­Bess Trainor,¡± a computerized voice says. ¡°Access granted.¡± Theodore smirks and then continues his work. He modifies security perimeters to allow the rear hatches of the chosen specimens'' holding tanks to open in thirty minutes increments. Long enough for him to be safely on the other side of the ship. Theo laughs mirthlessly and pulls open a drawer of Teresa¡¯s desk. He casually removes a protein bar hidden there. As an afterthought, he runs his hand around the drawer¡¯s interior and unsticks a dessert cake that is taped inside. Corporate espionage is a hungry business; he¡¯ll need to keep up his strength. Once everything is complete, Theodore shoves the last bite of dessert cake into his mouth and exits Lab Room Twelve. Entering the main lab, he takes an exaggerated deep breath. Menace dances across his face as he considers the carnage which will soon throw the California into utter chaos. Across the room, one of the Judas bugs scratches at the glass front of its holding tank. Theodore glances in that direction with an evil grin. ¡°Maybe, now¡­Is the time,¡± Theodore mutters into the darkness. Chapter Nine: AWOL
Day 15 Science Wing Laboratory Room 12 United Space Systems Vessel California 08:51 hours ¡°Bess¡­What¡¯s going on with the feeds?¡± Teresa says in a frustrated voice. ¡°I can¡¯t see inside holding tanks one, seven, and ten¡­No, make that thirteen as well. They¡¯re completely black. I don¡¯t have visuals on any of the subjects inside the cells. No life signs¡­Not even so much as a single methane gas production readout. It¡¯s been this way since I came in this morning. I really need to see inside those tanks, Bess.¡± Bess scrolls through several menus on her tablet, trying to assess the problem. Finally, she gives up and shrugs. ¡°I don¡¯t know, Dr. Boyd.¡± Bess says. ¡°I can¡¯t find the problem. Nothing appears to be wrong with the system. Everything seems to be fine. The computer states all programs are running properly.¡± ¡°Obviously not,¡± Teresa retorts. ¡°I can¡¯t see inside the damn tanks!¡± Teresa whirls in her chair to face Bess. She regards her slightly younger lab assistant with suspicion. Bess has been acting rather squirrely since her rumored hookup with the Chief Engineer. No longer hanging around the labs, to spend secret quality time with Harold. Leaving at odd hours. Avoiding meaningful conversations. Whatever is going on between Bess and Theo; it doesn''t bode well for their project. As lead scientist, it is Dr. Boyd''s job to get to the bottom of it. And fast. Things are already spiralling out of control. ¡°Where¡¯s that engineer boyfriend of yours? McAvoy?¡± Teresa fires off. ¡°Maybe he can figure out what is going on?¡± Bess¡¯s blushes and presses her tablet computer to her ample bosom. She avoids making eye contact with Dr. Boyd. ¡°He¡¯s not my boyfriend, Dr. Boyd,¡± Bess says in a soft tone. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Teresa whirls back toward her desk, her fingers flying over the computer keyboard. She opens several folders and skims over the executable files; searching for any and all clues to what is hindering the system. ¡°Oh¡­Come off it, Bess,¡± Teresa says. Her tone has a bit of an edge now. ¡°You¡¯ve been seen all over the ship with him. Including near your quarters. I really don¡¯t care what he is to you. Who you date is your own business. I just want him down here. Now! I need to know what¡¯s going on in those tanks. Do you have any idea where he is?¡± ¡°Theodore is on leave for the next two days,¡± Bess replies. ¡°Oh¡­He is?¡± Teresa replies. ¡°So just how much money do you think it would take to get him off of leave? I can¡¯t operate blind. Money is no object. Tell him¡­I¡¯ll pay him double wages. I just need him here as soon as possible. Can you do that, Bess?¡± ¡°Yes, Dr. Boyd,¡± Bess say. ¡°I¡¯ll see if I can find him.¡± With that, Bess swishes out of the laboratory¡ªin search of Chief Engineer Theodore McAvoy. Teresa shivers at the thought of having him near her again, but she doesn¡¯t know what other option she has. Theodore is the best engineer, and IT specialist, on the ship. - - Bess arrives back at the laboratory an hour later. She is out of breath and clearly rattled. Teresa climbs from her seat and moves toward the younger woman. ¡°Bess? What¡¯s wrong?¡± Teresa inquires, taking the young woman by the shoulders. ¡°Theodore¡­Chief Engineer McAvoy¡­,¡± Bess stammers. ¡°He appears to have left the ship. All of his belongings are gone. No one has seen or heard from him in almost twenty-four hours.¡± Teresa¡¯s mouth twists into a frown and she sucks on her teeth. Suddenly, she has a really bad feeling about the whole situation. Teresa guides Bess to a chair and makes her sit down. ¡°Just relax, Bess,¡± Teresa says reassuringly. ¡°Just relax. I¡¯m sure, he¡¯s fine.¡± A loud alert from the speakers of her computer causes Teresa to turn back to her desk. ¡°Loss of visual in holding tanks four and six,¡± a computerized voice said. ¡°Loss of pressure in tanks two, three, four, six, and nine. Containment failure imminent. ¡± ¡°What the hell?¡± Teresa says and races to the computer. She presses numerous keys, trying to get everything back online. Nothing works. Running into the main lab, Teresa uses her right elbow to break a glass partition and throw the large switch hidden behind it. A klaxon sounds throughout the ship. ¡°Warning. Unknown lifeforms detected on decks two and seven of the habitat wing. Casualties reported. All passengers and personnel shelter in place or return to quarters to await further instructions. Repeat. Unknown lifeforms detected on decks two and seven of the habitat wing. Casualties reported. All passengers and personnel shelter in place or return to quarters to await further instructions.¡± Teresa turns to Bess with frightened eyes. Everything now makes perfect sense. Damn Chief Engineer Theodore McAvoy. Damn him to hell. ¡°You asked what would happen if things went wrong, Bess?¡± Teresa exclaims. ¡°Well, I think things are about to go really freaking wrong. If these bugs get out and breed. We¡¯re all dead. We need to find Security Chief Crews¡­Now!¡± Chapter Ten: Offerings Day 16 Transport and Storage Wing United Space Systems Vessel California 11:19 hours Two colonial marines; a man with a buzz cut and a woman with a blonde spiked hairdo, stroll down the corridor. Both marines brandish their weapons and are scanning the area for possible threats. The silence is interrupted by a flurry of activity a few meters ahead of their present position. Down the hallway, there appears to be a scuffle going on. The marines move closer to the scene, weapons at the ready. Upon closer inspection, the marines are unable to believe their eyes. A large Judas female is being mounted by a male. The blonde marine¡¯s mouth twists into a sly sneer. ¡°Can you believe this sh¡ª¡± the marine says. The spike-haired marine''s words are cut off by a sharp gasp to her left. She turns to her partner¡ªonly to find him writhing in the grip of yet another adult Judas specimen. A large appendage juts from the male marine¡¯s chest and blood trickles from the corners of his mouth. His eyes are wider than she''s ever seen them; pain stretching his eyelids to capacity. ¡°Oh crap!¡± The woman marine yells and prepares to lift her weapon. ¡°Phillips!¡± Before the blonde can fire a single round from her rifle, two insect forelegs punch through her shoulders. The rifle falls from the marine¡¯s hands and she screams at the top of her lungs. The male Judas lifts her into the air¡ªoffering her as a meal to his beloved. The queen wastes no time accepting the offering. She starts by consuming the blonde head of the marine. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. - - The halls of the enormous ship are silent as the grave. Red and amber lights flash, and a computerized voice repeats the same warnings over and over. Human bodies are strewn in almost every direction. Some mutilated beyond identification. A juvenile Judas ambles down the hall, it stops only to nudge a decaying corpse. With a swift motion, it yanks off a thick chunk of decomposed flesh from the torso of a dead human. Not exactly a creature known for cleanliness, the hybrid roach messily consumes the putrid meat and then rips piece after piece from its chosen entree. Engorged, the Judas moves on. The once artificially lit habitat wing is now dark and foreboding. Almost every inch of the walls, ceiling, and floor is covered in vile roach secretions and large mounds of excrement. Other Judases arrive on the scene. The bugs crawl erratically through the maze of bodies. In a corner, a large female tosses her head. A chunk of meat flies into the air, only to land squarely between her enormous mouthparts. The queen draws the portion of human head and shoulder blades slowly into her mouth. Her grotesque mouthparts massage the meat, tenderizing it. Her much smaller mate waits nearby, his mandibles clicking audibly in the spacious human common area. The female pays him no mind. She has what she wants. Her insectile eyes rove over her squalid kingdom with vain disinterest. None dare contest her. She is queen of all. - - FROM: Patrick Ang, Ryan McDermott, Henry Ellis (Weyland, Yutani, and Associates); General Erik Weyland MESSAGE: Final meeting to discuss future of Dayshadow Industries. All company heads, and other essential players, to be present. What is the status of your mission? Delete this message once you have read the information therein. Chapter Eleven: License To Kill
Day 17 Science Wing United Space Systems Vessel California 19:36 hours Teresa and Bess make their way around darkened corridors. Bess is armed with a metal bar taken from the engineering level. Teresa carries her grandfather¡¯s .38 pistol, in addition to a metal pipe. The pistol is tucked into the front of Teresa¡¯s pants for easy retrieval. She wields the pipe in front of her like a machete. The ship¡¯s lights and power have been off since approximately thirty minutes after Teresa pulled the alarm in the laboratory. Not long after the alarm sounded, the first known Judas roach escaped containment and killed a civilian contractor. However, Teresa is certain that the warning given prior to the power outage pertains to the blacked out holding tanks in her lab. Several specimens were already loose from the lab. Hell does not fully encompass the mayhem that followed. Slaughter, carnage, and more carnage. At the claws and jaws of mankind¡¯s most prolific and resilient foe, the cockroach. Every few meters, Teresa and Bess come across a recently constructed organic structure. Structures put in place by the escaped Judas specimens. At one particularly blocked junction in the corridor, Teresa and Bess are forced to rip their way out using the metal bars. If what Dr. Boyd suspects is true, it has been nearly seventy-two hours, and several generations, since the first full-grown Judas Bug broke containment. By now, there are likely dozens of the creatures roaming the ship. Distant screams pierce the darkness from time to time¡ªwarning the two frightened women that the predators have claimed yet another victim. Bess, who is behind Teresa, grabs her boss¡¯ arm to get her to stop walking. ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear that?¡± Bess says, a shiver coursing her spine. ¡°I don¡¯t think we should go that way.¡± At the same instant, something crashes to the floor behind them. Bess jumps with fright, clutching the metal bar in her hand even tighter. Teresa glances back briefly, but returns her attention to the front¡ªtheir destination. ¡°We don¡¯t have any other choice,¡± Teresa says resignedly. ¡°We observed evidence of the Judas Breed back the other way as well. We need to find other people. There¡¯s strength in numbers. Maybe we can join up with a few of the colonial marines that are on board? At least, they¡¯ll have guns. Just stay close. Okay, Bess? Stay close.¡± Bess nods her head but stays quiet. The silence is broken by an announcement over the ship¡¯s loudspeaker. ¡°Attention! All passengers and ship personnel. Collision with planet¡¯s surface in t-minus twenty-two minutes. Ship will enter the planet¡¯s atmosphere in t-minus eighteen minutes. Attention! All passengers and ship personnel. Collision with planet¡¯s surface in t-minus twenty-two minutes. Ship will enter the planet¡¯s atmosphere in t-minus eighteen minutes. Please make your way to the nearest crash station to commence final preparations for a crash landing.¡± The announcement continues on a loop. Teresa grips Bess¡¯ trembling hand and pulls the younger woman forward. ¡°Come on, Bess!¡± Teresa whispers. ¡°We have to go.¡± This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Before they get more than three meters, there is a loud scurrying noise above them. Teresa looks up just in time to catch a glimpse of a large adult Judas bug. The insect now wears the misshapen face of a man. Teresa lets out a loud gasp as she recognizes the face of the ship¡¯s lead cook. ¡°Oh god¡ª,¡± Teresa utters, and then Bess is pulled from her grasp. ¡°Nooooo!¡± Bess screams, as she is yanked upward, and struggles against the attacking insect. Teresa aims the pistol at the bug, but realizes that Bess¡¯ body is blocking all vital areas of the hybrid mimic. As if mocking Teresa, the Judas roach grips Bess¡¯ middle in two elongated forelegs. Bess struggles even more, her screams becoming more and more frantic. In one motion, the Judas bug rips Bess completely in half. Teresa stifles a gasp, as she is sprayed with what used to be Bess¡¯ innards and blood. Now there is no obstruction. Teresa fires all of her bullets into the offending monster. The insect squeals as it crashes to the floor atop Bess¡¯ ruined body. Teresa quickly turns to run. She heads for the nearest crash station. She hopes she won¡¯t run into any more resistance along the way. - - Halfway to the crash station, Teresa trips over an obstacle and goes sprawling. Recoiling from the gore splashed on nearly every inch of the floor around her, Teresa spies something which gives her some measure of hope. On the floor lies the arm of a deceased colonial marine. The marine¡¯s arm still clutches the standard issue Orville rifle he was firing before his untimely demise. Scrambling behind Teresa spurs her to action. She grabs the marine¡¯s arm, and rifle, from the floor. Squeezing the marine¡¯s trigger finger, which is held in place by advanced rigor mortis, Teresa fires off a spray of rounds in the direction the noise came from. She is overjoyed at the resulting screech which follows. On target. The sound does not repeat. Teresa is satisfied that the bug has effectively been neutralized. She removes the marine¡¯s fingers from the rifle, breaking every digit on the dead hand to get the job done. It sickens her to hear each bone crack, but carrying the marine¡¯s dead arm around doesn¡¯t exactly appeal to her either. Dropping the arm, and wishing the marine godspeed, Teresa resumes her run to the crash pods. - - When Teresa finally reaches the crash station, her heart sinks. All but one pod is occupied¡ªby dead civilians, colonial marines, and ship¡¯s personnel. Holding the rifle snug to her shoulder, Teresa creeps forward. She passes by each crash pod, peering into the dead faces of the people strapped into the crash chairs. None of the people strapped down had managed to lower the safety glass partitions which surround each chair. One man, a civilian, is missing his head and upper torso. Another civilian, a woman, seems to have been stabbed numerous times by the deadly forelegs of an adult Judas. The first marine was stabbed directly in the mouth¡ªprobably while in the midst of screaming or hollering a command. Not much is left of his lower face. Teresa shivers as she makes her way to the last crash pod. She moves the Orville rifle back and forth, keeping her finger near the trigger. She also glances up at the ceiling to make sure that she has not missed anything. Once she is certain she is alone, Teresa sits down and quickly straps in. An adult Judas lumbers around the corner just as she reaches up to shut the pod¡¯s glass containment bubble. Dropping her hands from the edge of the rim, Teresa levels the rifle. The Judas spies her and flaps its wings¡ªhurrying in her direction. Teresa fires off a blast and misses. She fires again. This time, she clips the Judas¡¯ left wing and it spins partially away. Teresa knows that the noise generated from this firefight will draw more bugs. She fires again¡ªintent on finishing the Judas off. Her shot strikes its target. The insect''s head, a mockery of human physiology, explodes with a wet meaty crack. Not waiting for another Judas to ambush her, Teresa lowers the glass containment bubble. She sits absolutely still and waits for any other bugs to make their appearance. Only one insect enters the area, but it appears uninterested. Teresa suspects the containment bubble has obscured her scent and that the insect cannot see her through the opaque glass. She remains completely still.
The Judas is thrown against the opposite wall when the California smashes into the planet¡¯s surface. Teresa bounces around in the containment bubble but is otherwise fine. She loses consciousness a moment after the ship crash lands. Stress, and the shock of seeing her lab assistant torn in half, at last takes it toll. Chapter Twelve: Ulterior Motives
Day 18 Crash Station 6 United Space Systems Vessel California 00:04 hours Teresa regains consciousness to a silent world. Her head throbs with pain from being thrown around during the ship¡¯s descent--and eventual crash onto the planet¡¯s surface. Straining to see through the glass of her crash pod, Teresa is able to make out a large shape moving in her direction. Fear chills the blood in her veins and she trembles inside the enclosed space. So this is it? Teresa is thoroughly surprised when the figure outside the pod enters an access code into the keypad on the wall¡ªopening the pod in which she sits. Relief fills her chest when she spies the blue work jumpsuit. ¡°Harold? I¡¯m so happy to¡ª¡± Teresa exclaims. She never finishes her sentence, her eyes traveling up to the face accompanying the jumpsuit. Not Harold, but Theodore McAvoy. ¡°Theo? What? But how did you get...," Teresa begins. The words are not even out of her mouth when Theodore smacks her across the face. As Teresa raises a hand to her cheek and nose, Theodore unstraps her from the chair. Grabbing the front of Teresa¡¯s blouse, he yanks her up. They are face to face as he sneers and utters a sarcastic salutation. ¡°Why¡­Good morning, Dr. Boyd!¡± Theodore says between clenched teeth. ¡°And how are we feeling today?¡± The engineer uses all of his strength to slam Teresa against the wall and then hurl her several feet away. Teresa crumples onto the floor, but quickly scrambles to right herself. Not to do so could mean certain death by Judas bug or even Theo McAvoy. She crawls a short distance before preparing to stand. Theodore takes slow measured strides in her direction. The sinewy muscles in his arms tense as he inches closer and closer. He lowers the strap of his commandeered Orville rifle and points it at Teresa¡¯s back. ¡°Stop where you are, Dr. Boyd,¡± Theo threatens in a deep growl. ¡°Or I¡¯ll blow your back out! And not in the way you¡¯re probably thinking!¡± Teresa stops and turns in Theodore¡¯s direction. As her eyes fall on the rifle, Teresa remembers her own weapon¡ªstill in the crash pod several feet behind the furious chief engineer. Teresa climbs to her feet and raises both hands in the air. She remains like this as Theodore approaches her at a painfully slow gait.
¡°Wow. A woman who knows how to follow instructions,¡± Theodore drawls. He presses the barrel of the rifle into the flesh above Teresa¡¯s clavicle. ¡°I like that!¡± Teresa tries to plead with the engineer. She knows that their time may be limited. Especially, if the Judas specimens choose to make an appearance. ¡°Mr. McAvoy¡­Theodore¡­I know we got off to a rough start. And I¡¯m sorry. But you can¡¯t just¡­¡± Teresa says. Theodore presses the rifle harder into Teresa¡¯s flesh and she grows silent. Theodore regards her angrily. His fury is so great that it could almost be a whole other entity standing right there in the corridor with them. ¡°I can¡¯t just do what?¡± Theodore says in a hoarse whisper. ¡°Hmmm, Dr. Boyd? What can¡¯t I do?¡± Teresa remains silent, not wishing to provoke the engineer to further violence. The man appears as if he is already teetering on the edge of madness. ¡°You see this ship? You see what¡¯s become of your¡­Expensive project? That was all me,¡± Theodore admits brazenly. ¡°There¡¯s nothing I can¡¯t do!¡± Dr. Boyd is unable to stifle a bitter laugh. She peers directly into Theo''s face. ¡°Ha¡­,¡± Teresa laughs. ¡°You did all of this because I spurned you? You couldn¡¯t have possibly thought that your forward antics were going to get you anywhere? My god! How arrogant can one person be?¡± Theodore¡¯s face reddens and Teresa realizes that she has slipped up. Theodore swiftly reaches up a hand and grabs Teresa¡¯s ponytail. He wrenches her head back and growls into her face. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Arrogance?! Ha. You want to talk about arrogance?¡± Theodore roars. ¡°Okay. Let¡¯s talk about it. Arrogance is what you¡¯ve done! What you and scientists all over the world¡­And the whole goddamn human sphere¡­Have always done. You walk around playing god. Tampering with things you have no business. Like these damn Judas bugs. Did you ever stop to think about what the ramifications of what you¡¯re doing could be? No. Of course, you didn¡¯t. Because people like you are only after glory. And to hell with anyone who gets in the way!¡± Tears stream down Dr. Boyd¡¯s face and she raises a hand in surrender. To reassure Theodore that she is in no way trying to offend or provoke him. ¡°That¡¯s not true. Bess and I talked about it all the time,¡± Teresa pleads. ¡°We just wanted to change the world. To reduce human casualties. Maybe even put a stop to war altogether. We thought¡­Maybe if humans no longer have to lose their lives¡­Maybe the stakes will change. It wasn¡¯t about playing god. It wasn¡¯t about glory.¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± Theodore yells. He no longer cares about explanations. Who did this scientist think she was? Change the world? Really? After so many centuries of endless war and countless deaths? Did she really think it all came down to her? ¡°No matter what your motivations. Your project has presented me with a singular opportunity," Theo proudly boasts. "Dayshadow isn¡¯t the only organization that wants to get their hands on your little pets. I have ten buyers just waiting in the wings. You¡¯re gonna help me find a couple more of those egg cases. You¡¯ve never seen a war like the one I¡¯m going to unleash. Humanity is a stain on this universe. And that stain is about to be removed. Save the chosen few.¡± Teresa¡¯s eyes grow wide and she tries to pull away. However, Theodore maintains his grip on her ponytail. ¡°You¡¯re crazy,¡± Teresa says. ¡°You¡¯re crazy!¡± ¡°No, Dr. Boyd. I¡¯m an idealist,¡± Theodore replies. ¡°My ideals are just a little different than yours.¡± Theodore presses his rifle against Teresa¡¯s chest and pulls her back toward the crash pod by her ponytail. He only releases her hair to grab the abandoned Orville rifle beside the chair. He keeps his rifle trained on her chest. Shouldering Teresa¡¯s rifle, he nods for her to move down the corridor. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving, Dr. Boyd. I saw what looked like a nest down that hallway,¡± Theodore says in a low voice. Teresa reluctantly heads in the direction Theodore pointed out. - - ¡°You know, Dr. Boyd,¡± Theodore utters in the darkness. ¡°I know you think I¡¯m a monster. But I¡¯d never take advantage of a woman. What happened in the cafeteria¡­Later on in the lab¡­It was all business. Nothing personal. I was planning to put a few bugs in your system. No pun intended. The plan was to steal your data as you compiled it. But then, you came down to the lab. Dressed only in your robe. And I decided to play along. Can¡¯t say I wasn¡¯t tempted. Especially after our little¡­Tiff¡­In the cafeteria. It would have been so easy. But no¡­I wouldn¡¯t have done it. That day in the cafeteria¡ªIf you had taken the bait¡ªI would have just used our¡­Close relationship to steal your data that much faster. I never meant you any real harm, Dr. Boyd.¡± Teresa chuckles softly. She is unable to keep the sarcasm from her voice. ¡°Wow, that¡¯s a relief!¡± Teresa says drolly. ¡°Good thing you don¡¯t have a rifle pointed at my back while you march me toward our certain death. I might have mistaken you for a saint.¡± Theodore remains quiet, staring angrily at Teresa¡¯s back. He even considers pulling the trigger and blowing a hole through her chest. However, he needs her to gather the specimens he requires. ¡°Stop!¡± Theodore commands. Teresa does as she is told. She looks over one shoulder at Theodore. The chief engineer wears a perplexed expression; eyes wide, mouth partially twisted to the side. ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Theo asks softly. Teresa fearfully admits that she did. A faint rustling is coming from the darkened corridor ahead. ¡°Yes,¡± Teresa says. She takes a step backward. ¡°I think we should go back.¡± ¡°Nobody¡¯s going back,¡± Theodore whispers. ¡°Keep going. Move!¡± Teresa whirls in his direction. Her temper is white-hot and aimed directly at the chief engineer. His rifle shimmies a little before he plants it firmly in the middle of Teresa''s chest. ¡°No. If you¡¯re going to kill me¡­Do it!¡± Teresa whispers back. ¡°I¡¯d rather be shot dead, than be torn apart by one of those¡­Those¡­¡± Teresa is unable to speak the words. Suddenly, Theodore¡¯s speech is really hitting home. ¡°You mean¡­Your creations?¡± Theodore says, smoothly getting in Teresa¡¯s face. ¡°You don¡¯t want to be torn apart by one of your own creations? Why not? I thought this was the more humane way to wage war? You suddenly want no part of it now?¡±
¡°It wasn¡¯t supposed to be like this,¡± Teresa pleads. ¡°They weren¡¯t supposed to be used like this. They were just supposed to be more of a threat against war. There wasn¡¯t supposed to be any real bug wars! Just an idea. Something to scare the diplomats and the bureaucrats. Something to prevent war. Now please¡­Let us just get out of here!¡± Theodore grips Teresa¡¯s forearm and spins her back around. He presses the rifle into the small of her back. ¡°Go! Now! Or, I will shoot you! And I may just leave you here for them,¡± Theo says. Theodore is paying full attention to Teresa when he is hit from behind by a large pry bar. Theodore stumbles to the side and is hit a second time. He crumples to the floor in an unconscious heap. Surprise and pleasure dance across Teresa¡¯s face as her gaze meets that of Harold Bashir. ¡°Harold. Oh thank goodness!¡± Teresa says. She steps over Theodore¡¯s limp form and hurries to hug her friend. Harold is more business minded. He first disarms Theodore, placing one Orville rifle on his left shoulder and handing Teresa the other. Only then, does he allow Teresa to hug him. After a brief hug, he motions toward the unconscious chief engineer. ¡°Quick, I know where we¡¯ll be relatively safe,¡± Harold says. ¡°Grab his feet. Hurry. Before he comes to.¡± Teresa does as Harold asks and grabs Theodore¡¯s feet. Together they struggle-carry the engineer down the dark hallway. Chapter Thirteen: Can Die Happy
Dayshadow Industries Communications Outpost 3 Human Sphere "Any contact with the California?" Barbara Williams exclaims, barging into the main information center. Barbara Williams, the youngest CEO in Dayshadow Industries'' short but tumultuous history, hustles animatedly towards the arrangement of supercomputers at the center of the room. Her numerous freckles stand out like chicken pox on her unusually pale face. A tech glances up with an indifferent expression. This represents the third time the CEO has visited since the California went dark. The answer is always the same. "Still nothing, ma''am," the technician hears himself say once again. "We''re sending messages out to her on a loop every fifteen minutes. It''s possible she went through an ionization cloud. If that''s the case, we may hear from her as soon as the ship passes far enough from the anomaly. It''s happened before... Especially ships close to Celstus or her ringed moon. We''ll keep checking, ma''am." Ms. Williams is only partially placated. She crosses both arms over her chest and nervously shifts her left foot so that the side of her high-heeled boot partially touches the floor. "Keep me informed, Nate," Barbara says. The CEO strolls from the information center for what seems like the thousandth time. Master Technician Nate turns to his colleague with a sly grin. "If she walked any straighter...Her spine would snap! That stick must be wedged pretty tight!" Nate whispers. Nate''s male colleague performs a silent laugh, his shoulders bobbing, and his face reddens. Nate goes back to his task of trying to establish communication with the missing science vessel. - - Somewhere deep within the Human Sphere U.S.S. California (Science Vessel) Galley Freezer Chief Engineer McAvoy is far from happy when he finally wakes up. His battered head screams ''bloody murder'' and he is tied securely to a metal chair in the ship¡¯s enormous walk-in freezer. From the looks of it, someone has been extremely busy. Tools and equipment are scattered haphazardly on one side of the freezer. Crates of water are even stacked on an engineering cart beside the door. One of the freezer''s tables is literally overflowing with bags of fresh and frozen fruits. Someone is definitely making plans for the long-haul. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Theodore has no idea who it was that actually hit him--until he catches sight of Harold and Teresa. The doctor and the lab technician are asleep nearby¡ªsnug in each other¡¯s arms. Teresa''s head rests on the inner part of Harold''s right shoulder, his left arm draped over her. It is obvious they are enjoying the warmth their closeness affords. Theodore, on the other hand, is freezing his butt off¡ªwith not even so much as a blanket. In his anger, Theodore rocks the metal chair back and forth. The violent motion makes a loud clanking sound reverberate around the freezer. Teresa and Harold jolt awake. Harold immediately reaches for his Orville rifle. ¡°Theodore¡­You dumb prick! You¡¯re going to bring every bug within a hundred meters down on us with that racket!¡± Harold hisses in Theodore¡¯s direction. Theodore is nonplussed. The chief engineer''s face is beet red from both the freezing cold, and his boiling anger. ¡°So what? Who gives a crap? We¡¯re dead anyway!¡± Theodore roars back. ¡°If the bugs don¡¯t kill us¡­We¡¯re gonna die of hypothermia!¡± It is at this point when Theodore notices that Teresa¡¯s blouse is buttoned incorrectly, with one button at the top totally skipping a hole. His voice is suddenly tinged with bitter laughter. ¡°Hahaha. Well, it looks like I missed quite a show!¡± Theodore laughs. Theo''s eyes remain fixed on Teresa¡¯s bosom. Teresa follows his gaze and then glances over at Harold in embarrassment. Harold unconsciously glances down, but then remembers himself. He quickly looks anywhere but at Teresa''s chest. ¡°That¡¯s not¡­¡± Teresa begins. ¡°Look, are we really discussing this? You go to hell, Theo!"
Theodore laughs even more bitterly and closes his eyes. Reclining his head and upper torso against the chair back, he releases a deep sigh. ¡°I¡¯m already there, honey!¡± He says tiredly. ¡°But you only live once. Why not hook up if you think you¡¯re gonna die?¡± Harold¡¯s face twists into a confused grimace. He moves as if to rush Theodore. ¡°Who the hell is hooking up?¡± Harold demands. Teresa puts a hand on Harold''s arm to calm him. She calmly answers the question with details Theodore might like to know. ¡°For your information¡­Mr. Know-It-All," Teresa says calmly. "Harold and I did not sleep together. I took my blouse off while we were gathering supplies. Believe or not, the bugs have this place extremely warm. With the exception of the freezer. Many insects don''t particularly like the cold. Our little arctic hideaway will only last as long as the ship¡¯s energy reserves hold out. And then, we don¡¯t dare venture out at all. Not without a really solid plan on how to get off the ship. And if you must know¡ª." Teresa unbuttons the top few buttons of her blouse to reveal the beige tank top underneath. Theodore''s eyes don''t budge an inch and he barely even blinks. ¡°I¡¯m wearing a tank top! So can we stop with the casual sex prodding? It¡¯s starting to get on my nerves!¡± Teresa says with an angry scowl. Theodore grins and offers his colleagues a small shrug. The fact that Theodore¡¯s hands are tied behind his back hinders his motion somewhat. ¡°Well. At least¡­I can die happy. I got you to open your blouse for me,¡± Theo jokes crudely. Harold¡¯s eyes narrow and he gives Teresa a look that says: ¡®don¡¯t bother.¡¯ Teresa throws up both hands and shakes her head. ¡°Come on, Harry," Teresa says. "Let¡¯s see what we¡¯re working with over here.¡± Teresa and Harold move toward the opposite side of the large freezer. Harold only looks back once, his upper lip twisted in disdain. Theodore follows their movements with his eyes. ¡°Hey! Y¡¯all just gonna leave me tied up over here?¡± Theo yells. ¡°Yep,¡± Harold and Teresa say in unison. Theodore scrunches his face and glares at his colleagues'' backs. His mission window is rapidly closing. Yet, here he is; stuck in a goddamn freezer with Robin Hood and the infamous Lady Frankenstein. Chapter Fourteen: Cold Times Ahead
Day 18 Crash Station 6 United Space Systems Vessel California 09:03 hours Chief engineer McAvoy watches Teresa and Harold work from halfway across the freezer. He fidgets uncomfortably as his stomach growls and his insides do a little dance of hunger. He cranes his neck to see better, considering that the only other humans in the large room have their backs facing toward him. ¡°Hey! What are you guys working on over there? What is that thing?¡± Theodore yells. Harold turns to Theodore¡ªa sarcastic smirk on his face. He points from himself to Teresa. ¡°You talking to us?¡± Harold responds dryly. ¡°Yeah, genius. I¡¯m talking to you. I don¡¯t see any other people in here. Do you?¡± Theodore growls. ¡°Oh? Okay,¡± Harold states sardonically. Harold''s smirk becomes a cruel sneer. He grips his partially constructed masterpiece in both hands and turns halfway to face Theodore. Placing the device on the floor, Harold taps it softly. ¡°We are making¡­A flamethrower,¡± Harold says matter-of-factly. Harold grins almost sadistically as he points to various parts on the homemade flamethrower. Adding insult to injury, he also attempts to imitate Theodore¡¯s trademark drawl. ¡°We cannibalized a bunch of parts from¡­Well, a bunch of different things. Including this handy dandy fire extinguisher," Harold exclaims. His voice takes on the quality of an infomercial sponsor, and he does a small drumroll on the fire extinguisher lying on its side by his feet. The hose has been removed and attached to Harold¡¯s newest creation. ¡°Kind of ironic, isn¡¯t it?" Harold continues with a wink. "You see¡­And when I push this here button on the side of our makeshift flame thrower¡­It¡¯s gonna shoot out a pressurized stream of ¡®fire water¡¯. Or so my grand-dad used to call it. And then, when I press both of these buttons simultaneously¡ª¡± Harold hovers his finger over a second button on the homemade fire cannon. ¡°¡ªwhich I won¡¯t do right now, because this is just a demonstration." Harold says. "This little baby is gonna shoot out an enormous gout of flame. When the flame mixes with the liquid heaven¡­Bye Bye Judas bug. Kind of like a big ole Molotov Cocktail hyped up on methamphetamines.¡± Theodore has been glaring at Harold for more than half of his speech. He makes a sarcastic, ¡®aha¡¯ face, and twists his mouth upwards in a disgusted expression. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°You don¡¯t have to explain to me how a flamethrower works, prick!¡± Theodore growls. ¡°I¡¯m a damn chief engineer. I¡¯ve built the damn things.¡± Harold makes a surprised Pikachu face, as if hearing this news for the first time. He sarcastically puts a hand to his mouth. ¡°Wow. You don¡¯t say? Me too!¡± Harold says, his eyes narrowing. ¡°I may just be a lab technician now. But I¡¯ve dabbled in a few things. Kinda have to, in this economic climate. Really, Theodore. Don¡¯t ask stupid questions¡­You won¡¯t get stupid answers.¡± Theodore shifts in his chair, causing the legs of the chair to scrape the freezer¡¯s floor. ¡°How¡¯s that a stupid question, butthead? You had your backs to me the whole freaking time!¡± Theodore hisses. Teresa puts a hand on Harold¡¯s chest before he can shoot off another pithy remark. The men¡¯s arguing could very well draw any Judas specimens in the vicinity. They are nowhere near ready for such a confrontation.
¡°Okay. Okay. We get it,¡± Teresa says. She holds up a hand to signal compromise. ¡°We should have let you in on what we were doing. We¡¯re sorry. Okay?¡± Harold is not even close to sorry. He crosses both arms over his broad chest and frowns. Teresa¡¯s submission to Theodore is unbecoming of a scientist of her status and tenure. It is the chief engineer who should be apologizing to her. At the same time, Harold recognizes that Teresa may be attempting to placate Theodore in order to solicit his aid in helping them escape this hellhole. Either way he looks at it, he thinks Teresa may be playing with fire. The engineer is a loose cannon. He has made that apparent on many occasions. Theodore McAvoy is not a man to be trusted. Teresa attempts to stand. Harold remains in a kneeling position, but allows Teresa to lean on his arm for support. Once on her feet, Teresa walks toward Theodore¡¯s chair. She eyes him warily. ¡°Theodore? If we untie you¡­Are you going to play nice?¡± Teresa says in a soft voice. ¡°We could really use your help. It will make things go a lot faster. We¡¯re eventually going to have to leave the ship. Or at least try to get to the communications wing in order to send a signal back to Earth. That means, we¡¯re going to have to work together¡­If we want to get out of here alive.¡± Harold calls to Teresa in a gruff hiss. He peers at her with narrowed eyes and shakes his head vehemently. ¡°Teresa, no,¡± Harold pleads. Teresa holds up a hand in Harold¡¯s direction. She continues to stare at Theodore. Theodore continues to stare back. ¡°Can you work with us to get out of here, Theodore?¡± Teresa implores. ¡°Three people have a better chance than two¡­Or even one." A look passes between Harold and Theodore¡ªnot a good one either. Theodore rolls his eyes toward the ceiling and sucks on his inner jaw. He doesn¡¯t answer immediately. Teresa raises her voice. ¡°Can we trust you, Theodore?¡± Teresa hisses in frustration. ¡°Yes,¡± Theodore yells back. ¡°Yes, damn it! I don¡¯t want to be torn apart by those things any more than you do.¡± Teresa nods in satisfaction. Relief allows her to relax, and she casually rubs both hands together to warm them. ¡°Good. But first, we all get something to eat,¡± Teresa says. She turns to the table heaping with frozen produce. Her hand freezes in midair, hovering over a bag of mixed berries. ¡°Oh,¡± Theodore says. ¡°So does that mean you¡¯re going to feed me? Can¡¯t eat with my hands tied behind my back!¡± Teresa prepares to respond, but Harold beats her to the punch. ¡°No.¡± Harold says in a voice cold as ice. ¡°It means¡­We¡¯re going to dislocate your shoulders, pull your arms over your head, and let you feed your own goddamn face.¡± Teresa sighs with frustration and places a hand on her hip. She levels a stern glare at Harold. However, a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. To Harold, it almost looks as if she is having a mild seizure. ¡°You¡¯re not helping, Harold,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Sorry,¡± Harold says, sounding anything but. ¡°I was only kidding.¡± Chapter Fifteen: A Good Team
Theodore uses one hand to shovel berries into his mouth from a metal plate. He glances over at Teresa, who has fallen asleep several feet away¡ªher lab coat draped over her body like a blanket. After a moment, he turns to look at Harold. Harold is seated on the floor, leaning on a table opposite Theodore. His eyes have been on the chief engineer ever since they untied his hands. Theodore¡¯s legs and torso remain securely tied to the chair. ¡°You know, Harold,¡± Theodore says. ¡°I agreed to play fair. I promised not to do anything crazy. I don¡¯t understand why you still need to keep me tied up. I¡¯m not too much good to you trussed up like a turkey.¡± Harold¡¯s voice remains level and he simply stares at Theodore. ¡°Like Dr. Boyd said¡­,¡± Harold replies. ¡°We¡¯re going to do this in stages. You show us you¡¯re a man of your word. We untie you in the morning. Or, when Dr. Boyd thinks you¡¯ve proven yourself. I mean¡­You did threaten to kill her, Theo. Not to mention, all the physical violence¡ªand the corporate espionage bullcrap. Bess and so many others are dead because of what you¡¯ve done. I think Dr. Boyd has every right to be skeptical.¡± Theodore draws his mouth into a firm line and nods. He isn''t happy, but what the hell can he do about it. ¡°Fair enough,¡± the chief engineer says reluctantly. ¡°So¡­Uh. You said, you''ve dabbled in a few things. What kind of things?¡± Theodore says after a brief pause. Harold leans forward and steeples his hands. While he isn''t really in the mood for smalltalk, it beats doing nothing but staring at Theodore''s ugly mug for hours. ¡°Well, before I signed on with the science division of Dayshadow¡­I was a second year engineering student.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t say?¡± Theodore drawls, his voice thick with surprise. ¡°Uh¡­Yeah,¡± Harold responds. ¡°My dad and I¡­Uh. We once built an old car in his garage¡­Basically an Old Earth Model Ford. We had to change a bunch of things¡­In order to not run afoul of the patent office. But yeah, basically we built an old Ford from scratch¡­Right in my dad¡¯s garage. Thing ran like a dream. Drove it to Homecoming, Prom, and graduation. I miss that old relic. Best thing me and my dad ever did together. It was great. I shifted from engineering to biology when dad died. It wasn¡¯t the same working on things without him. I couldn¡¯t ask him for advice anymore. I couldn¡¯t call him over for a beer and shoot the breeze while we worked on a new project. I tried to include my kid brother from time to time, but it wasn''t the same. It just felt wrong. Seemed my heart wasn''t in it anymore." Harold¡¯s eyes narrow and he tilts his head inquisitively. ¡°What about you, Theo?¡± Harold inquires. ¡°What about your dad? How¡¯d you end up an engineer?¡± Theodore stifles a laugh and tosses his empty plate on the floor. The chief engineer''s eyes become narrow slits in his face. ¡°Ha. My dad? Never knew him,¡± Theodore says. ¡°My sperm donor father¡­Was a diplomat. Knocked my mother up while visiting a foreign embassy. My schooling was paid by means of large hush-money checks that arrived in my mom¡¯s bank account every two weeks. And a nice allowance he gave me every three months, and on my birthday. Probably used government money too. I was never hurting for anything. Money-wise anyway. My mother wanted me to be an engineer because they make good money and never go out of season. My mom likes money¡­A lot. And I take good care of her. She always took care of me. That infotech stuff? I just do that for fun. Gets me into any place I wanna be. Landed me this cushy job with Dayshadow too¡­Being a jack-of-all-trades.¡± Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Harold nods his head in silent agreement. After all, what can he say? No wonder the chief engineer is so screwed up. Harold notices that Theodore¡¯s eyes keep wandering to Teresa¡¯s sleeping form. His brow knits and he watches Theodore carefully for signs of deceit. A difficult thing to do when a person¡¯s entire presence screams malevolence. Theodore¡¯s eyes return to Harold¡¯s face and he grins widely. ¡°So¡­You and Dr. Boyd. You two aren¡¯t¡­You know?¡± Theodore asks. He roleplays a crude gesture with his hands. ¡°No,¡± Harold says, rolling his eyes. ¡°So¡­If I made a pass at her. For real this time. You wouldn¡¯t like¡­Be angry?¡± Theo presses further. ¡°I might be a little mad,¡± Harold says in a dry voice. Theodore reclines back against the chair, his hands folded behind his head. ¡°I thought so,¡± Theodore says. ¡°Go to sleep, Theodore,¡± Harold hisses loudly. ¡°I¡¯m not sleepy!¡± Theo retorts. ¡°Well, pretend that you are and stop talking,¡± Harold commands. ¡°Okay. You¡¯re the boss!¡± Theodore says, closing his eyes. Worry stirs in Harold¡¯s heart. The idea of leaving Teresa awake alone with Theodore causes a wave of anxiety to spread all over. When the time comes for Teresa¡¯s watch, he¡¯ll simply nap and wake up in staggered intervals. If Theodore is planning something, he has another think coming. - - Theodore is sound asleep, his head hanging sideways over the back of the metal chair, when the sound of Dr. Boyd¡¯s voice jars him awake. He barely maintains eye contact, the raw emotion behind Teresa¡¯s eyes eliciting a primordial kind of fear. The scientist grips a syringe in a clenched fist, the tip hovering only inches from Theodore¡¯s throat. She lowers her lips to Theodore¡¯s ear and vocalizes the hatred he can see brewing underneath the surface of her gaze. ¡°I want all the information you¡¯ve got, Theodore," Teresa growls angrily. "Access codes, communications codes, ship¡¯s logs¡­everything." She is mindful to keep her voice down, as not to wake Harold. The young technician finally fell asleep after some coaxing, and a little white lie.
¡°You want me to untie you?¡± Teresa continues. ¡°That¡¯s the deal. You help us get out of this¡­I¡¯ll see they go easy on you. For good behavior. You screw up just one time, Theo¡­And you won¡¯t have to worry about Tech Bashir killing you. I¡¯ll just shoot out your kneecaps and leave you for the Judases. You got me?¡± Theodore¡¯s mouth forms a thin line and he lowers his gaze to the floor. This side of Teresa is actually quite frightening to behold. ¡°The information¡­It¡¯s there,¡± Theo confesses. ¡°In my bag. The small pocket on the side has the device I use to scalp information from closed systems. You¡¯ll need that too!¡± Teresa offers Theodore a snide grin and he can¡¯t deny the sudden heat which flows through his body. Despite her attempts to appear sophisticated, Teresa is every bit the fierce vixen Theodore suspected all along. And never has she looked more beautiful than when she allowed that tiny spark of evil to shine through her glossy veneer. His eyes slide down her body suggestively. ¡°Too bad you turned me down, Terry!¡± Theodore remarks. He returns Teresa¡¯s grin with one of his own. ¡°We might have made a good team.¡± It is Teresa¡¯s turn to look away. Going to Theodore¡¯s bag, she opens the small slot on the side. Pulling out a small engineering kit, she opens a zipper on its side. Nestled inside is the small scalping device. As Theodore said it would be. When she glances up at Theodore, he is still grinning in her direction. Teresa¡¯s face grows extremely warm and she rummages inside the other compartments of Theodore¡¯s engineering bag. Chapter Sixteen: Safety in Numbers
Day 21 Galley Freezer 20:29 hours Harold is seated at the table working on another incendiary device. What remains of the frozen produce has been shoved to one side of the table, having been picked through by the three human refugees. A loud concussive explosion, followed by rapid rifle fire, causes them all to stop what they are doing. Theodore climbs from his place on the floor, the weapon he was crafting still lying there. He glances up at the ceiling. ¡°That was rifle fire. Those are colonial marines,¡± the engineer says in a choked voice. ¡°Yeah,¡± Teresa says, coming to stand beside Theodore. ¡°And that was pretty close. Maybe on the deck above us.¡± The impact of another explosion rocks the large ship and Harold grips the edge of the table. He rises to his feet and moves to where Teresa and Theodore stand almost riveted in place¡ªboth staring up at the ceiling as if expecting the colonial marines to melt through the floor.
¡°If those are marines? Then, who just fired on the California?¡± Harold yells to be heard. ¡°Last I checked¡­The Judases don¡¯t use weapons! Someone¡¯s firing on us! Earthers maybe?¡± Another explosion, and the remaining lights on the ship dim. ¡°Goddamn!¡± Theo curses. ¡°If we lose what little power is left¡­We¡¯ll never make it out of here. We¡¯ve gotta get to communications and restore power to the ship! Then, we can pilot¡ª¡± Another hard explosion. The three humans are nearly knocked off their feet as the ship lurches and lists. ¡°We need to try and find those colonial marines,¡± Teresa says. She grips Harold¡¯s upper arm and looks deep into his eyes. A million different words and phrases hurtle through her mind. She mentally pushes them aside and mentions what is most important. ¡°We take what weapons we¡¯ve already assembled, and we head out there," Dr. Boyd says resolutely. "And we find them. Strength in numbers. There were at least fifty marines on this ship when we crash landed. We need their firepower.¡± Uncertainty fills Harold and he glances briefly at Theodore. He eventually comes around to the same conclusion. ¡°Yeah. More guns would help,¡± Harold agrees. ¡°Maybe all the commotion will work as a distraction.¡± Teresa tenderly pats Harold¡¯s cheek. His face grows hot with bottled emotion. ¡°Alright. Then, let¡¯s go!¡± Dr. Boyd says with a near manic smile. - - All loaded up, the three colleagues step to the freezer door and listen intently for any sign of activity on the other side. Harold grips Teresa¡¯s elbow as he reaches for the door handle. ¡°You walk in the center, Dr. Boyd,¡± Harold says in a soft whisper. ¡°Dr. Boyd?¡± Teresa says. ¡°I think we¡¯re beyond that now, Harold.¡± Harold smiles and squeezes Teresa¡¯s elbow. This solicits a smile from her as well. Theodore simply rolls his eyes. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Okay. Now, if you two lovebirds are finished? Can we go?¡± Theodore hisses impatiently. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Harold says. Before anyone can have second thoughts, he yanks open the door to the freezer and motions for Theodore to go first. ¡°Experience before youth,¡± Harold says with a sarcastic sneer. Theodore turns his mouth up in an unattractive expression. He shoots Harold a two-finger salute. ¡°Uh¡­Hmm!¡± he says. With slight hesitation, the engineer steps out of the freezer. Teresa and Harold are not far behind. But far enough.
- - The sound of weapons fire has not ceased since the moment the three humans first observed the firefight. In fact, the frequency of rifle blasts seems to have increased. As has the number of screams bouncing around in the darkened spaces. However, the explosions have lessened; and the voices and rifle shots appear to be a lot closer. ¡°They can¡¯t be far now,¡± Theodore says, a touch of excitement in his voice. ¡°Maybe only a few meters up that way. Can¡¯t really tell with all this buggy crap everywhere. It¡¯s making everything sound weird. The acoustics are off or something.¡± Theodore repositions his flamethrower on his shoulder and hovers his finger near the buttons. ¡°Let¡¯s go¡­,¡± he says and turns back toward the front. No sooner are the words out of his mouth, a large adult Judas races down the corridor in their direction. Theodore¡¯s eyes widen as he catches a glimpse of the almost human face worn by the beast. ¡°Oh sh¡ª,¡± he begins to say. He never has an opportunity to finish. The Judas catches sight of Theodore and glides in his direction. A large blast shakes the air within the corridor and the Judas is blown apart. An enlarged forearm of the adult specimen is flung into the air, by the force of the blast. The severed forearm nearly decapitates Theodore, as it embeds itself in a clump of organic matter behind them. As it is, the forearm only manages to take off half of Theodore¡¯s head. The body, with the remaining half of a head, falls heavily to the cold floor. Teresa screams and raises her Orville rifle. Harold yells a frantic warning. ¡°No! Don¡¯t!¡± he cries and slams Teresa against the wall splattered with roach secretions. Another bright light illuminates the tight quarters as a blast of what looks like laser fire obliterates the wall directly behind where Teresa had previously been standing. Harold presses a hand to his lips and motions for Teresa to go deeper into the organic roach motel. ¡°What do you¡ª,¡± Teresa hisses. ¡°Just move!¡± Harold orders. He reaches into a pocket of his work jumpsuit and then hands her his utility knife. ¡°I recognize where we are. Just¡­Cut through all this crap. Keep moving that way.¡± Dr. Boyd begins sawing through the organic detritus. She glances over her shoulder at Harold, who is holding both edges of the opening they crawled into. ¡°You recognize where we are?¡± Teresa says incredulously. ¡°How can you know where we are through all of¡­This?¡± Harold keeps his voice low and continues to peep through a small slit between the two folds of the roachy material. ¡°I used to be an engineer. Schematics and such are second-nature. I can tell where we are just by the number of rivets, bolts, and screws in an area of wall¡­Or a particular scuff on the floor.¡± Harold waits until Teresa has a significant amount of material cut away before following her in.
¡°Keep going until you reach a bend in the corridor. About three feet after the bend¡­You¡¯ll feel a grate on the right side of the wall. Once you feel that¡­Use my knife to loosen the screws and open it up. We can crawl through the ducting to the transport deck. There are a few spots that might be a little tight, but most should fit a person okay.¡± Teresa continues to crawl forward, cutting away the organic matter as she moves along. ¡°Why did you stop me from firing, Harold?¡± Teresa calls back to Harold. She is careful not to speak too loudly. ¡°What do you know?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t really know anything. Just a suspicion,¡± Harold says, crawling quickly behind Teresa. ¡°That blast we saw. Reminded me of a story my grandmother used to tell¡­About her great uncle. He disappeared during a mission for the CIA. An old Earth intelligence agency. My many greats uncle¡¯s team was sent to determine the whereabouts of a missing operative. Only one member of his team came back. He told all these tales about alien spacecraft, advanced weaponry, and some really wicked technology. He went into a lot of detail about one of their energy cannons. That blast we saw up there. It got me thinking. Suddenly, I didn¡¯t think it was such a good idea to go waving our weapons around. We are definitely outgunned. The lone survivor¡­He said, they won¡¯t kill you if you¡¯re unarmed.¡± Teresa¡¯s face twists into a sarcastic grimace. ¡°That¡¯s real neighborly of them,¡± she says in a low whisper. - - Back in the corridor Harold and Teresa escaped from, a distorted silhouette strolls casually to where Theodore''s mutilated form lies. Surveying the damage to Theodore''s skull, the silhouette turns--shaking its head and chittering with disgust. Chapter Seventeen: Almost There
Reaching the designated grate, and crawling into the ducting, Dr. Boyd and Harold are able to move forward at a faster pace. They are no longer hindered by a maze of Judas secretions and clingy organic debris. In a spot where there is a bit more room, Harold squeezes past Teresa, in order to get in front. In his haste, one hand brushes her backside. Harold glances at Dr. Boyd apologetically. ¡°I promise that was an accident,¡± Harold insists. Teresa nods, mischief in her eyes, but doesn¡¯t say a single word. Harold turns back to the front and crawls even faster. Teresa hurries along behind him. At the end of a junction, Harold stops to look through another grate. He studies the layout of the room below and gives an affirmative nod of his head. ¡°This is it. There¡¯s a door about ten feet that way,¡± Harold says and points a finger to the right. ¡°It leads to the outside. I hope I have the correct access keys. If not, I may have to find a way to disable the keypad or blow the door. And I don¡¯t know if we have that kind of time. Doesn¡¯t seem to be any real Judas activity on this level, but I¡¯m not taking any chances.¡± Plopping down on his butt, Harold pulls back a large foot and kicks the grating. After three kicks, the grate comes detached and falls to the floor below. The noise causes both Teresa and Harold to flinch; but it can¡¯t be helped. ¡°I¡¯ll go first,¡± Harold says. He reclines his head back and grins up into Teresa¡¯s face. Dr. Boyd throws decorum out the window and wraps Harold in a bear hug. Teresa¡¯s body feels warm against his back, and he gently pats her forearm.
¡°Harold, be careful,¡± Teresa whispers. ¡°We don¡¯t know what¡¯s out there.¡± Harold leans up and kisses Teresa¡¯s cheek. He locks eyes with her as he draws away. ¡°I know. That¡¯s why I¡¯m going first,¡± Harold says in a soft voice. Without another word, Harold squirms so that he is on his belly and squeezes out of the entrance to the duct. He drops to the floor, landing with the poise of a cat. Spinning around, Harold repositions the Orville rifle against his shoulder and takes a few steps. He barely looks back when he hears Teresa land on the floor behind him. Only enough to be sure it is Dr. Boyd. Teresa swiftly comes up beside him, her rifle already trained on their destination. Harold slowly sweeps his weapon back and forth. Teresa¡¯s foot comes down on something wet and slippery. Bending to examine what is at her feet, Teresa lets out a short gasp. She opens Harold¡¯s knife and cuts free the opaque oothecae cradled inside the ribcage of what obviously used to be a female colonial marine. The embryo inside the egg case is quite visible, and is definitely of the newest Judas variety. Harold looks around the hangar, keeping an eye out for danger. He does not share Dr. Boyd¡¯s interest in the encased embryo. In fact, he wants nothing more than to nuke the creepy bastards from orbit. ¡°Teresa¡­We need to go!¡± Harold says. His voice rises with his growing anxiety. ¡°Sure. In a minute,¡± Teresa says. She moves to the nearest shelf and removes an old-fashioned leather briefcase. A name stenciled on the side reads: Gediman. Teresa crooks an eyebrow and opens the case. ¡°Teresa¡­Why are you taking that? We don¡¯t need it! We need to get out of here?¡± Harold pleads. ¡°This embryo¡­Is the only connection between us and what we¡¯ve done here,¡± Teresa says. In one swift movement, she punctures the side of the oothecae. Thick liquid squishes out of the hole as she draws back the knife. She pushes downward on the egg sac, accelerating the removal of the nutrient-rich fluid nourishing the growing insect inside. ¡°Don¡¯t worry¡­¡± Teresa says. ¡°It doesn¡¯t need to be alive.¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Staunching the hole with a random piece of paper, Dr. Boyd shoves the egg sac into the empty briefcase and securely closes it. She hefts the Orville rifle up onto her shoulder and then grips the handle of the briefcase with her opposite hand. She practices pulling the trigger one handed. She wants to be sure she''ll be able to aid Harold in the extreme likelihood of a firefight. The flamethrower is still strapped to her back, but she doubts it will do any good at this point. ¡°Now, we can go!¡± She says with a tight smile. Without warning, an adult Judas emits a shrill shriek and shoots out of the darkness. Harold grabs Teresa and pulls her down and out of the way. He aims his Orville rifle at the approaching insect. His weapon fires at the same instant that an energy burst rips through the air of the transport hangar. Both shots hit home and the Judas is practically incinerated. Harold grabs Teresa¡¯s free hand and yanks her toward the hangar exit. ¡°Go¡­Run!¡± Harold yells. Both colleagues take off at full speed. Teresa glances back over her left shoulder and catches a glimpse of an eerie shimmer in the dim light of the transport hangar. She returns her eyes to the front in time to see a bright blast come seemingly out of nowhere. She shoves Harold to the left and he careens into the nearby wall. The blast barely misses him.
Another loud screech and a Judas bug comes flying in the humans¡¯ direction. However, it never makes impact with either of them. Instead, it slams into an as yet unseen foe¡ªgreen blood spurting into the air. Some of the green fluid splatters Teresa¡¯s front, as well as her face. She wipes at the fluid with a hand but keeps running¡ªher breath coming in ragged gasps. They reach the exit to the hangar and Harold inputs his code. Teresa grips her Orville rifle, leveling it to about waist high. No more shimmers of light, no more energy bursts. Are they safe? ¡°Thank you¡­Harold Bashir. Access code accepted,¡± the computer voice says. Harold yanks the door open and pulls Teresa out of the ship with him. They carefully make their way out of the surrounding wreckage. Another loud screech and a bright light sears the air. Harold¡¯s right shoulder erupts with pain and he hollers out. Teresa drops her rifle and moves to aid him. The technician¡¯s shoulder is a bloody mess, muscle and bone jutting from a massive wound. ¡°Harold, put your arm around my shoulder. Come on!¡± Teresa yells. Harold complies and they continue climbing down and away from the enormous wrecked ship. Their descent is slowed by the angle of the downed ship, and the amount of debris obstructing their path. Finally, they reach the ground. Teresa refuses to let go of Harold and pulls him along. Above them, inside the ship, it sounds like WWIII all over again. Screeches of insects, miniature explosions, and the loud impact of several energy bursts shatter the silence of the air. ¡°Harold! Go, go, go!¡± Dr. Boyd yells over the cacophony of noise all around them. Not bothering to give the young technician a chance to argue, Teresa yanks on his uninjured forearm and drags him towards the clump of trees to their far right. The flamethrower bumps uselessly against her back and she stops long enough to toss it away. A moment later, there is a world-shattering boom and a wall of heat sends the two humans flying into the air. Teresa maintains her grip on Harold¡¯s arm as they roll into a small indention in the dirt. As soon as the air clears, Teresa climbs unsteadily to her feet. Harold¡¯s weight is uncharacteristically light and she turns to see what is wrong. Dr. Boyd releases Harold¡¯s arm and stares down at the stump of a corpse left lying on the ground. What little food she has in her stomach slowly rises, and she vomits violently. Retching a second time, Teresa bends at the knees and presses a hand to the left side of her abdomen. With precious little time, Teresa struggles to regain some modicum of composure and stand erect. She is just turning to run when another explosion sends her reeling backward. Dirt and scorched foliage spray into the air, and Teresa hits the ground hard. She knows she is lucky to even be alive. They missed her by a hair. Another inch and the blast would have killed her just as surely as the other blast had killed Harold. A disturbing thought creeps into Teresa¡¯s mind. What if their goal isn¡¯t to kill her? What if they suspect what she is carrying? And just who the hell are they?!? Operatives from Weyland Industries? Another rival company? Privateers? Would anyone be so stupid as to physically attack another sovereign entities'' starships? Is this the beginning of a real space war?
Looking down at the briefcase clutched tightly in her hand, Teresa decides it is best to take her chances and run. Without her weapons, she''s a sitting duck. No way to defend herself. She scrambles out of the makeshift ditch and continues in the direction of the trees. Safety. Maybe. Only about another twenty yards. Her progress is halted when an arm materializes seemingly out of nowhere and clotheslines her. Teresa falls backward onto the ground, clutching at her aching throat. Her eyes widen as a vaguely humanoid outline appears in the air in front of her. Crawling backward, Teresa maintains her hold on the leather briefcase, and focuses on the ditch directly behind her. ¡°What the¡­?¡± Teresa mutters in disbelief. ¡°What in the hell?¡± The words freeze on Teresa¡¯s lips as a trio of red dots appears on the right side of her chest. She follows the laser points to their source and her mouth drops open. Tears well at the corners of her eyes. ¡°Oh, god¡­¡± Teresa cries. And then, the world goes black. Chapter Eighteen: When the Choices Arent Good
Teresa opens her eyes to a world of splitting pain. Her head feels as if it has been slammed against a wall and her midsection screams from untold injuries. As Dr. Boyd¡¯s eyes adjust to the darkness, she realizes¡ªwith paralyzing fear¡ªthat she is back in the California¡¯s transport hangar. But how? ¡°Oh no,¡± Teresa cries and attempts to sit up. She is halted by a large foot slamming into her abdomen just under her ribcage. Teresa¡¯s breath escapes in a loud ¡®oof¡¯ and she falls back hard onto the metal floor. The back of Teresa¡¯s head hits the floor and lights dance before her eyes. ¡°Oh god!¡± she utters and tries to reach up to grab her aching head. Another appendage pins her arm before she can move it and Dr. Boyd yelps with distress. Her distress only increases ten-fold when the bodies attached to the offending appendages finally materialize. The inky darkness within the transport hangar is interrupted by a metallic shimmer. Seven gigantic figures, clad in metal armor and mesh netting, become clearly visible. All of the figures are masked, save for a larger humanoid adorned in a drab green-gray robe. Drab in the sense that it is lacking in vibrant color. Nothing else about the reptilian humanoid¡¯s attire can possibly be called drab. The robed humanoid steps closer and Teresa is able to ascertain more details about his appearance. The mesh netting covering his body is comparable to fish-netting, and slightly indents the flesh of the creature¡¯s sinewy chest, biceps, and calves. Skulls of various shapes and sizes are secured strategically along the humanoid¡¯s mesh bodysuit. Teresa can¡¯t help but wonder from what kind of animals those skulls were taken. The shapes and proportions are not familiar to her. All save one. A human skull attached to the mesh above the alien''s right pectoral muscle. The robed humanoid¡¯s face is unlike any Dr. Boyd has ever seen. Not quite ugly, but definitely intriguing. His skin is a pale greenish-yellow, with brownish spots marking the flesh here and there. His vibrant green eyes are set deep in his face, and both eyelids look as if they are painted with a dark-grey mascara. He has no nose that Teresa can discern, and his mouth is an array of small catlike teeth surrounded by loose folds of flesh. Four fierce mandibles, two on each side of his mouth, open and shut threateningly. Pointed tusks jut from the tips of his mandibles, and they make a light clicking sound when they happen to touch.
The hair on the humanoid¡¯s head is pulled back into long black dreads, decorated with large metal beads¡ªconjuring up images of a scurvy Earth pirate. The large prickly hairs, jutting from the edges of the creature¡¯s hairline, dispel this fantasy of the sea. The scientist in Teresa stares at the large humanoid with awe and fascination. The rational side of her stares at him with fear and distrust. The large foot on her chest slowly begins to reduce the oxygen in Teresa¡¯s lungs, and she awakens from her scientific musing. She uses her free hand to grip the ankle of the humanoid pinning her to the floor. Her other arm is still pinned by the second negligibly smaller alien. ¡°I can¡¯t breathe,¡± Teresa gasps. Anger floods her body¡ªher voice rising in pitch. ¡°Get off of me!¡± The humanoid standing on her chest leans down and his shoulder weapon realigns. Teresa¡¯s eyes widen. She knows, without actually being able to see them, that there are three red dots on her forehead. Teresa releases the ankle she is holding and raises the same hand in surrender. ¡°Please...I don¡¯t mean you any harm! But, I can¡¯t breathe. You have to let me up,¡± Teresa gasps. Her head begins to spin and she feels close to fainting. The robed humanoid chitters loudly and the humanoid with the targeted shoulder weapon stands down. The weapon goes back to its former position and the massive creature removes his foot from Dr. Boyd¡¯s chest. He takes a heavy step backward. The second creature also removes its foot from Teresa¡¯s arm. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Circulation slowly returns to Teresa¡¯s appendage and she shakes it as if to remove kinks. Taking a deep breath, Dr. Boyd exhales noisily. She glances around at the seven strange aliens. Boldly reaching out her hand to the creature that had once pinned down her arm, she beckons to it. ¡°Aren''t you going to help me up?¡± Teresa inquires. The creature looks to the robed humanoid, who nods and chitters. Reaching down, the masked humanoid grips Teresa¡¯s hand and practically yanks her to her feet. Teresa hopes this is just a sign that it simply doesn¡¯t realize the measure of its own strength¡ªand not a sign of overt aggression. ¡°Thanks,¡± Dr. Boyd says with a hint of sarcasm. She strains to see the alien''s eyes through the metallic mask it wears. The spaces for the eyes are of a somewhat lighter material. Almost glasslike. The creature says nothing. Straightening her clothes, Teresa turns her attention to the robed humanoid, who is obviously in charge. ¡°Why are we here?¡± Teresa says in a loud whisper. ¡°We can¡¯t be here. There are things on this ship that will kill us. All of us. We need to leave.¡± The large masked humanoid utters a deep growl. Even under his mask, his anger is obvious. Teresa realizes her mistake and lowers her voice, while raising a hand to signal compliance. She returns her attention to the robed alien leader. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I didn¡¯t think,¡± Teresa says. ¡°But we do have to get out of here. We¡¯re in very real danger.¡± An unsettling revelation dawns on Teresa. She has not seen hide nor tail of a single colonial marine. Nor has she heard a single shot from an Orville rifle. These are the beings the marines were engaging in combat¡ªthe beings responsible for the deaths of Harold and Theodore. So who is really in danger here?
Dr. Boyd sways on her feet as the reality of what has happened hits home. The alien which helped her to stand moves forward a step, but she hurriedly shakes her head. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± she says with mock enthusiasm. ¡°Really. I¡¯m fine.¡± The robed humanoid glares at Dr. Boyd with fierce green eyes. The scowl on his face makes Teresa wish they had killed her or left her for dead. Why hadn''t they? ¡°Why are we even here?" Teresa demands. "What do you want?¡± The robed humanoid steps forward, as does another humanoid directly behind the leader. The second humanoid is carrying the leather briefcase containing the oothecae Dr. Boyd scavenged. Teresa¡¯s eyes widen with shock. ¡°No,¡± Dr. Boyd whispers inaudibly. ¡°Oh no.¡± The robed humanoid takes another few steps in her direction. His subordinates take on rigid stances, ready to defend their leader at a second¡¯s notice. When the robed creature speaks, it is in an eerily guttural human voice¡ªsimilar to that of a ship¡¯s computer or AI. ¡°You are able to create monsters?¡± the alien voice says. Teresa¡¯s mouth drops open and she stares at the humanoid leader with obvious surprise. She blinks rapidly, struggling to process what she has just observed. ¡°Wait! You can speak English?!¡± Teresa exclaims, her mouth twisting into a wide grin. ¡°We are familiar with ooman languages,¡± the robed creature agrees with very little intonation. ¡°Ooman? Is that what we are¡­To you?¡± Teresa asks, still not believing her luck at finding a truly intelligent humanoid race. Or rather being found by one herself. ¡°Yes,¡± the creature responds dryly. Teresa can tell that as far as the robed humanoid is concerned, this conversation is far from productive. Dr. Boyd glances at the leather briefcase in the subordinate¡¯s hands. A shiver courses her spine as she remembers what the adult Judas did to Bess. And what others of it''s kind did to the people utilizing the crash pods. She shakes her head fervently. ¡°You asked about creating monsters?!¡± Teresa says. ¡°Well, yes. This is a science vessel. That¡¯s pretty much our entire purpose for being out here in space. To create things that would make most people lie awake at night. To push the boundaries of what it means to be alive. Key word being¡­Alive.¡± Dr. Boyd pauses in her soliloquy long enough to point at the leather briefcase. She shake her head again. ¡°But if you think I¡¯m going to make more of¡­Those things¡­After what they did to the people aboard this ship¡­You¡¯re wrong! Those things killed pretty much everyone. They nearly killed me! I won¡¯t do it!¡± Teresa insists. Pure malice seeps from the large masked humanoid and it chitters loudly. Teresa has no doubt that he would like nothing more than to stomp on her again. The robed leader remains unfazed. In fact, he almost seems to smile, his deep-set eyes narrowing. Dr. Boyd¡¯s voice takes on a resigned tone and she sighs heavily. ¡°But, if I don¡¯t¡­I suppose, you¡¯ll kill me. So, either way...¡± Teresa leaves the rest of her statement unsaid.
She sucks on her bottom lip, considering all of her limited options. The humanoid leader does smile this time. Chapter Nineteen: No More
Dr. Boyd glances around at the septuplet of aliens encircling her. She fights to control the overwhelming urge to run, to hide, to do anything but stand here amongst these strange creatures. Creatures, she''s sure won''t hesitate to kill her; should she refuse to comply with their demands. ¡°This is just freaking great!" Teresa laments. "Why did I even take this assignment? I''m really glad I signed on with the California, now!¡± The robed humanoid loses what little is left of his patience. He steps closer to Teresa and his eyes narrow impossibly further. The salty smell of his skin wafts over her and she is reminded of childhood strolls on the beach. She stares up into the towering alien''s gaze, transfixed. ¡°When can we expect the arrival of the other oomans?¡± The robed leader demands. Dr. Boyd shoots him a confused glare and her lip curls downward. ¡°What other humans? From what I can tell¡­Between yourselves and the Judases¡­You¡¯ve killed every human aboard. Well, save one. And Harold doesn¡¯t really count because you murdered him outside of the ship,¡± Teresa challenges. Teresa knows she is treading on thin ice. However, the fact that she is alive at all tells her the humanoids don¡¯t really want her dead. They want her knowledge. Only after she has divulged all that she knows, will they even consider killing her. Or at least, she hopes that is the case. The chest of the large humanoid, who almost stomped a mudhole through Teresa¡¯s ribcage, rises and falls swiftly. He too is growing tired of conversation. Dr. Boyd eyes him warily. ¡°You oomans speak for such long periods¡­Only to say very little,¡± the leader says dryly. ¡°When will the ooman rescue team be arriving?¡± ¡°That depends,¡± Teresa says. ¡°On whether or not the California was able to get a message back to Earth before we hit atmosphere and crash landed. The ship was all but disabled not long after the Judases were let loose from containment and the others escaped. We were sabotaged. A crew member orchestrated the whole thing. I¡¯m guessing he wouldn¡¯t have wanted anyone telling command his dirty little plans. So he probably disabled the communication feeds. Similar to the damage he wreaked in my lab. I forgot to ask about that little detail before his head was sheared off by a Judas'' forearm. Thanks to one of your guys...Who blew it to smithereens. There may not even be a rescue team. The only way I can be sure of that is to get to the communications wing¡ª.¡± Teresa points with an extended hand and arm. ¡°Which is all the way on that side of the ship,¡± Teresa says. ¡°And my lab¡ª.¡± Teresa points in the opposite direction. ¡°Is on that side of the ship.¡± Teresa concludes. ¡°If you¡¯re salivating for more¡­Oomans to kill? You may be waiting a long time. However, if you want to be sure. Your little monster quest will have to wait. We¡¯re going to have to make a trip to the communications wing.¡±
¡°You speak as one who is unafraid,¡± the humanoid leader says with a wry smile. His mandibles open wide and then click rapidly shut. He observes Teresa with an amused expression; his manner becoming almost jovial. ¡°Do you not fear?¡± the leader inquires. Dr. Boyd swallows the saliva collecting in her mouth and attempts to appear brave. She is positively scared as hell, but they don¡¯t need to know that. ¡°I¡¯m a scientist. Some of the things we see defy any form of rational thinking,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Very few things scare me anymore.¡± Teresa turns to peer at the large masked humanoid as she says this, her chin tilted in a show of defiance. He only chuffs under his mask. This brings a sly smile to Dr. Boyd¡¯s lips. She returns her gaze forward. ¡°Did you manage to kill all of the Judases?¡± Teresa asks¡ªfearing the answer. ¡°Cause if not, we¡¯re going to have an uphill battle getting to the communications wing. The last time I was there, the area was swarming with Judases. There were eighteen adults and six juveniles around the time the systems failed. But most females are actually born pregnant. Don¡¯t ask me how. They can create living offspring within seven to ten hours. It¡¯s been four days. Which means, a lot more have been hatched in that time. The embryo in that case your guy is holding...Is proof that they¡¯re still evolving and reproducing. They don¡¯t even remotely resemble the insect they came from anymore. Well, not really. And they¡¯re a lot deadlier than their previous incarnations.¡± Stolen novel; please report. ¡°The Judases¡­Your ooman creations¡­Are no huge threat to us,¡± the robed leader says. ¡°We only wish to know¡­How they are able to see through our invisibility cloak? What spectrum of vision do they possess which allows for this to be possible?¡± Teresa¡¯s brow creases and she takes a moment to think. She thinks back to the slain alien earlier in the day. How the Judas had speared it while coming for Harold. Had it been aiming at Harold? Or had it been charging the unseen alien? ¡°No¡­I don¡¯t think they do see through your cloaking,¡± Teresa says confidently. ¡°What do you mean? Several of my hunters were slaughtered while hunting your¡­Judases. While in full cloak,¡± the leader says. ¡°I¡¯ll explain,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°Roaches¡­The principle organism the Judases originate from¡­Are very sensitive to sound, smell, and air currents. I don¡¯t think they did see your guys. Not in the truest sense. They heard them¡­Or could feel the slightest vibrations in the air and honed in on them. Maybe even smelled them. Your cloaking isn¡¯t the problem. You need to find a way to hide your scent, and minimize your movements while in stealth mode. Of course, I''ll need some time to study up on it. However, that seems to be what''s going on here. The scent part¡­I might be able to help you with. The rest¡­You¡¯re on your own. Harold was the one into martial arts and meditation. He could have helped you channel your inner alien. Or helped you obtain oneness with the ship, or something. Maybe you shouldn¡¯t have been so quick to murder him.¡± Teresa reaches into her lab coat and retrieves Harold¡¯s knife. The large adversarial alien chitters angrily and grabs her arm. Dr. Boyd raises her other hand to ward him off. ¡°Please. Don¡¯t,¡± Teresa pleads. ¡°I need to show you something.¡± The robed alien growls and the adversarial alien releases Dr. Boyd¡¯s arm. Looking around the expansive hangar, Teresa spies the body of the dead Judas. She keeps the hand without the knife raised and moves in the direction of the downed insect. She kneels beside it and repositions the knife in her hand. In a swift motion, she stabs the Judas and begins sawing at the chitinous flesh. Yanking upward, she removes a pale organ covered with numerous bumps and ridges. Placing the organ on the ground, she cuts into it. The gooey liquid inside pours over her fingers and she resists the urge to gag. She squeezes some of the vile liquid onto her hand and smears it over her flesh and clothes. Hopefully, there will be a shower in her near future. But for now, she has a job to do. These aliens have presented her with an opportunity to test a few theories.
Teresa finishes smearing the Judas scent juices all over her body and extends the organ toward the group of aliens. She smirks knowingly. ¡°Do we have any volunteers?¡± Teresa says rhetorically. To Dr. Boyd¡¯s surprise, it is the adversarial alien¡ªand the second alien which pinned her arm down¡ªwho immediately step forward. Teresa¡¯s ego deflates. ¡°Great,¡± she whispers to herself. To the others, she tries to project more confidence. ¡°Fine,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°Rub this scent gland on every inch of yourselves. I mean, every inch. When you¡¯re finished¡­We¡¯ll head to the communications wing. If we don¡¯t run into trouble¡­It shouldn¡¯t take us more than an hour to get there and back. Seeing as how we have only minimal power¡­The lifts may not operate. We may even have some power disruptions along the way. We¡¯ll have to walk. We check for any outgoing communications¡­And we come back here. Then, we head to my lab.¡± The two aliens nod. The alien which stepped forward with the large adversarial one reluctantly takes the scent gland from Teresa¡¯s hand. Teresa makes a point to stare at the places where his eyes are covered by his mask. After a moment, she shifts her gaze and looks over the humanoid''s shoulder. ¡°I want to make one thing perfectly clear,¡± Teresa says in a firm voice. ¡°When we complete our mission¡­And return to my lab¡­We are all equals. No more threatening behavior. We work together. Anything outside of that¡­And I stop cooperating. You will just have to kill me. You want monsters? I¡¯ll help you create monsters. But those are my terms.¡± The leader alien nods and his mandibles spread in what Teresa can only assume is a satisfied smile. The cordial smile on the robed alien''s face alters his overly domineering appearance. ¡°Agreed,¡± he says. Teresa, unsure if what she has signed on for is such a good idea, nods agreement as well. ¡°Alright, then,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Off we go. But first, I¡¯ll need my rifle and flamethrower. I¡¯m not going anywhere unarmed." The humanoid leader nods his head to indicate something over to his left. "Your crude ooman weapons are over there! P''taal will return them to you." the robed humanoid explains. Teresa turns to see the alien which had held down her arm step forward. He moves to retrieve her weapons. So, his name is P''taal. Nice to know. "I am Elder Glandis, leader of this scientific exploration. And N-Vorl..." Elder Glandis says, while nodding his head towards the massive adversarial alien, "You already know." Elder Glandis'' smile morphs into what Dr. Boyd can only describe as a conniving grin. He goes from looking like jolly Saint Nick to Krampus in zero to five seconds. Teresa''s chest clenches as N-Vorl steps behind her. She swallows down a lump in her throat. "Nice to know," she says aloud. To no one in particular. Chapter Twenty: Not Exactly Friends
Having been introduced to the members of her new yautja team; Dr. Boyd sets off for the communications wing with her two alien companions. Once again armed with her rifle and flamethrower, she angles the rifle in front of her. The flamethrower is strapped securely to her back. N-Vorl, the large grumpy yautja, follows closely behind her. She can only guess that his shoulder cannon is aimed squarely at her back. This particular alien¡¯s level of distrust is more than unsettling. Will he find a reason to kill her? Or will he simply manufacture one? P¡¯taal, the more patient yautja, walks confidently in front. His weapon of choice, the combistick, is poised and ready as she suggested. Any sudden moves may prematurely alert the Judases of their presence in the corridor.
An unexpected rush of air above Teresa¡¯s head causes her to glance upward. Suspended between two metal beams is a juvenile Judas. But something about this Judas is different. Not only is it wearing the misshapen face of a yautja; it also uses a form of camouflage Teresa has never observed in all of her time studying the Judases many stages of evolution¡ªpast and present. While still partially visible, portions of the Judas are almost see-thru; allowing Teresa to view the metal beams surrounding it. ¡°Nooo!¡± Teresa cries aloud, as the Judas lunges at N-Vorl¡ªwhose head is turned to look down an adjoining corridor. She can ill afford to have the big dumb bruiser killed on their very first expedition. His death might not go over so well with the other yautjas. Right now, Teresa''s main goal is to live through this hellish nightmare. So keeping her alien partners alive is a top priority. Teresa pushes N-Vorl with all of her miniscule weight. Shoving him out of the Judas¡¯s path. N-Vorl instinctually reaches to grab what he perceives to be his attacker. He yanks on Dr. Boyd and she stumbles; the added weight of the flamethrower throwing off her center of gravity. She reaches for the only thing to steady herself with-- N-Vorl, and drags him down along with her. They both fall heavily to the floor. Which turns out to be a good thing. The murderous juvenile insect lets out a loud screech, gliding over the jumble of human and yautja, and then comes around again. It is as if the Judas does not notice P¡¯taal at all. P¡¯taal uses this to his advantage. He pulls back his arm and aims his combistick at the offensive bug. When he does throw the combistick, it flies true, spearing the insect and pinning it to the opposite wall. P''taal barely has time to rejoice in his kill, and reclaim his combistick, before a second Judas careens around the corner. This specimen is much larger, an adult, and wears a human face. That of Chief Engineer Theodore McAvoy. Complete with a long gash along the same line on which Theo¡¯s head was severed by a Judas¡¯s forearm. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Teresa lets out a loud gasp. Partially because N-Vorl¡¯s weight is once again crushing her; but, mostly at seeing Theodore rise from the dead in the form of a Judas imitation. "How can this be?" Teresa''s mind screams. "Theo has only been dead for a couple of hours? Or is it much later? How long was she unconscious? And what kind of mutation is this?" N-Vorl repositions to get off of Dr. Boyd and his clawed hand presses down on the left side of her chest. Teresa fidgets at the somewhat familiar touch, inhaling sharply. N-Vorl either doesn¡¯t notice her discomfort or doesn¡¯t care. He swiftly climbs to his feet and retrieves his own combistick from his excessively decked out implement belt. Standing back to back, P¡¯taal and N-Vorl remain perfectly still¡ªwilling the cursed beast to come at them. The Judas paces as if confused. Its wings flap, and then fold back up, multiple times. The insect¡¯s head, adorned with a hideous copy of the dead chief engineer¡¯s face, whips back and forth. It''s insectile mandibles open and shut menacingly. Teresa''s eyes gleam with excitement. ¡°It doesn¡¯t know where we are,¡± she says in her mind. ¡°As long as we don¡¯t move, and it can¡¯t smell us...It won¡¯t be able to find us. Save maybe bumping into one of us. I was right.¡± Teresa cups her hands around her mouth and risks a tiny whisper. She calls to P¡¯taal. ¡°Activate your cloak!¡± she says as quietly as possible. Big mistake. N-Vorl''s shape dissolves from view, but P''taal remains visible. The brave warrior is focused exclusively on the Judas, as it whirls in Teresa''s direction. ¡°Oh hell!¡± Dr. Boyd exclaims. She crawls backward on the floor for about a foot and then flips over onto her stomach in order to push up and stand. The Judas opens its wings and prepares to take flight¡ªits focus solely on Teresa. Thanks to their scent baths, and N-Vorl''s cloaking; the two yautjas aren¡¯t even a blip on the Judas'' radar. The Judas is only half a foot in the air when P¡¯taal cracks its carapace with a forceful blow from his combistick. The combistick goes straight through the insect¡¯s head; the pointed tip slamming into the metal floor. Teresa yells out a warning a split second before the Judas lashes out with a razor-sharp forearm. P¡¯taal draws back his leg and is only nicked by the Judas¡¯s forearm. Green blood leaks from the wound, but Teresa knows it could have been much worse.
¡°You have to completely immobilize it!¡± Teresa yells. ¡°A roach can live for many days without its head. It isn¡¯t dead!¡± At this point, N-Vorl rematerializes. He readies his shoulder cannon and fires unceremoniously into the Judas. Insect fluids fly everywhere. With a sweep of his arm, N-Vorl retracts his combistick, and allows his shoulder cannon to power down. He pivots in Dr. Boyd''s direction. Teresa rolls her eyes and levels her gaze at N-Vorl. The big yautja is obviously proud of himself, his legs spread wide apart in a defiant stance. ¡°Are you happy now?¡± Teresa says rhetorically. ¡°Yes,¡± N-Vorl responds. Teresa is sure that underneath his mask, N-Vorl is wearing the biggest yautja smile. In fact, she''d bet her life on it. Chapter Twenty-One: Oh Hell
Teresa climbs to her feet and glances from N-Vorl to P¡¯taal. Her eyes return to the weapon perched on N-Vorl¡¯s left shoulder. ¡°That¡¯s a very handy weapon,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°When do I get a weapon like that?¡± N-Vorl¡¯s answer is short and succinct. ¡°Never!¡± N-Vorl growls. With a swift turn on his heels, the large yautja arrogantly stomps up the hallway in the direction of the communications wing. Teresa makes a sarcastic face behind him and rolls her eyes. ¡°Never!¡± Dr. Boyd repeats in a low mocking voice. She turns to P¡¯taal. ¡°Tell your friend to wait up,¡± Teresa says. ¡°We need to do something about that injury to your leg. The smell of your blood will be very attractive to the Judases.¡± Teresa points to a metal engineering bench a few feet away. P¡¯taal strolls to it and sits down. He retrieves a small metal box from a pressurized compartment on his leg armor. Teresa yanks a handkerchief from the pocket of her lab coat, but continues to watch P¡¯taal. N-Vorl stands a short distance off, scanning for danger. Using the handkerchief to clean the blood from P¡¯taal¡¯s leg, Teresa presses the edges of the wound together. P¡¯taal affixes a small device to the area and his hand does a strange quiver. Teresa is almost sure that what he is about to do is going to hurt like hell. She squeezes his other knee and nods reassuringly. P¡¯taal presses on the device and it staples the wound together with a loud snap. P¡¯taal does not holler, but he does let out a low growl. Teresa pats his knee and dabs at the edges of the wound; to remove any remnants of blood. She uses this opportunity to consider the unusual creature before her. P''taal''s flesh is nearly the same complexion as his robed leader. However, there is more green spread throughout. Tiny dark spots like freckles are sprinkled along all of his exposed flesh. The mesh of P''taal''s suit is thicker than the elder''s, and he wears less skulls around his waist and back. Definitely no human skulls present. A large symbol is burned into the front of his armor. No charring is present. Almost as if the armor were melted instead. She tries to make out the entire symbol, but the dim lighting makes it impossible. Teresa finishes her visual examination and speaks softly to her alien patient. ¡°Do you have any water?¡± she inquires. ¡°There''s blood running down your entire leg. I¡¯m just smearing it around at this point.¡± She tosses the soiled handkerchief away, and uses Harold¡¯s knife to rip off a large portion from the bottom of her lab coat. P¡¯taal pulls a small cylinder from his implement belt and opens the lid. He hands the canister to Teresa and she places a corner of the ripped material over the opening of the cylinder. A sweet-smelling liquid pours out and moistens the material. Teresa hands the metal cylinder back to P¡¯taal and thoroughly cleans the flesh of his leg, even getting between the mesh of his battle suit.
¡°Sir N-Vorl,¡± Dr. Boyd calls softly. ¡°Would you mind bringing me the scent gland from the bug you splattered everywhere? I¡¯m going to need it for P''taal''s wound. You know¡­To throw the bugs off our scent.¡± N-Vorl reluctantly ejects his wrist blades and goes to work removing the scent gland from the Judas he slay only moments before. Bringing the gland to Teresa, he drops it disrespectfully on the floor beside her. Teresa shakes her head, but otherwise pays his obstructive attitude no heed. She fixes her gaze on P¡¯taal and offers him a wistful smile. ¡°This might sting a bit,¡± she states in a soft tone. ¡°But after the pain you just put yourself through¡­It¡¯ll be nothing.¡± Pressing the scent gland against P¡¯taal¡¯s wound, rubbing it up and down his entire leg, Teresa makes sure that he is once again covered with Judas pheromone. She tosses the soiled piece of lab coat in the same direction she tossed the dirty handkerchief and climbs to her feet. She offers P¡¯taal her hand, knowing he doesn¡¯t need it to stand¡ªbut offering it anyway. P¡¯taal takes the offered hand and stands to his full height. ¡°We¡¯d better hurry,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°The smell of fresh blood is going to act like a dinner bell. Activate your cloak. Make things a little harder for them.¡± ¡°You have no cloak!¡± P¡¯taal says with genuine concern. ¡°I don¡¯t need one,¡± Teresa says, a smile building on her face. ¡°I have you two. And I can always cut out more scent glands from our dead Judas friends. Don¡¯t worry about me." The courage behind Dr. Boyd¡¯s speech fades once P¡¯taal and N-Vorl activate their cloaks. As the yautjas disappear from view, Teresa tries to hold back her fear. Would they abandon her? Teresa has a hard time believing P¡¯taal would do such a thing. But N-Vorl is a completely different story. - - Communications Wing- Central Hub Teresa stalks toward the security station at the center of the Communications hub. The strap of her flamethrower is over one shoulder, and the Orville rifle is pressed tightly to the other shoulder. To use the flamethrower this close to communications central would be reckless indeed. Walking around the center console, Teresa takes in her surroundings. She props the rifle up against the console, ready at a moment¡¯s notice, and then punches several codes into the central computer. ¡°Good day, Dr. Boyd!¡± the female computer chirps. ¡°Access code accepted. Please state a command.¡± If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. Teresa inserts Theodore''s USB device while inputting the necessary command. The main computer readily spits out a reply. ¡°Last communication between Dayshadow Industries and the California was more than one-hundred-and seventy-one hours ago. No outgoing messages waiting in the computer¡¯s queue. Systems operating on reserve power only. Please input a command to begin virus purge protocols. Download must commence before auxiliary power levels fall below fifty-three percent.¡±
Teresa releases a loud sigh and her fingers fly over the console. She considers using the USB device to generate an encrypted SOS message to send back to Earth or Command Central. However, she has no idea where the two aliens are. They could be watching her every move. Better to wait. ¡°Well¡­Okay,¡± she mutters to herself. Just then, a shadow passes quickly over the console. Staring into the reflective surface of the computer¡¯s main screen, Teresa catches a glimpse of the partially camouflaged Judas scrambling back and forth above her. And it is not a pretty sight. For the most part, the Judas blends in perfectly with the metal ducts and conduits. It is the face and head of the creature that gives it away. In its hurry to create a perfect facial imitation of the dead Bess Trainor, the creature failed to account for the lack of dark pigmentation in Bess¡¯ skin. Like the round bold crest of the Periplaneta Americana; the insectile imitation of Bess¡¯ pale face stands out in sharp relief. The fact that the face is upside down adds more absurdity to the whole situation. Teresa lowers her hand to the rifle¡¯s grip. She gradually pulls the weapon up, centimeter by painstaking centimeter. The Judas creeps forward, pulling itself along using the pipes, conduits, and beams. ¡°Oh¡­Hell!¡± Teresa says in a husky whisper. Grabbing the rifle and hurling herself backward, Teresa aims and fires. She falls to the right, as the blast sends the creature back up into the ducting and then crashing to the floor. Rolling to get away from the falling creature, Teresa rolls onto her back and then sits up¡ªfiring on the Judas a second time. The second blast blows the demonic mimicry of Bess Trainor¡¯s head into a thousand or so pieces. Carapace and insect fluids flies everywhere. Including on the still seated Teresa. She groans deep in her throat and uses the Orville rifle to prop herself up to a standing position. Dr. Boyd is angry as hell as she stands over the dead Judas. Pride enters Teresa¡¯s heart at being able to rip poor Bess¡¯ face off of the wretched insect''s body. Aiming her Orville rifle at the downed insect, in case it is not really dead, Teresa pokes it with the rifle muzzle. After the third time, she is satisfied that the bug is dead. Once again brandishing Harold¡¯s knife, Dr. Boyd cuts into the creature and yanks out the coveted scent gland. N-Vorl and P¡¯taal choose this time to rematerialize. Teresa throws them both a hard look. ¡°You know¡­I could have really used you guy¡¯s help!¡± Teresa chides her companions. N-Vorl speaks up for them both. He steps over to where Dr. Boyd kneels beside the Judas and stares down at the corpse. ¡°P¡¯taal was performing reconnaissance,¡± N-Vorl says smoothly. ¡°And I felt you had things well under control!¡± ¡°You did¡­Did you?¡± Teresa says sarcastically. ¡°Good help is so freaking hard to find.¡± Teresa returns to the security console and inputs the command to commence the virus purge protocols. The computer verifies her command and a countdown clock appears on the screen. Teresa is surprised when N-Vorl leans forward, his shoulder brushing hers. He points to the screen and there is agitation in his voice. ¡°What is that?¡± he inquires. ¡°That...Is the countdown for a complete system reset,¡± Teresa says Dr. Boyd runs a hand through her presently untamed black hair. Now more than ever, she wants a shower. And an Aspirin. She can feel a really bad headache coming on. ¡°Once it¡¯s completed, most of the ship''s systems should come back online," Teresa explains. "If the saboteur only shut the systems down and didn¡¯t completely damage them¡­We may even get more power back. If he did damage them, we¡¯re going to have to do some repairs. Any engineers in your group?¡±
¡°We are all engineers,¡± N-Vorl says pridefully. He puffs out his chest as he speaks. ¡°Your technology is quite antiquated. I¡¯m sure there isn¡¯t anything on this ship we cannot fix.¡± Dr. Boyd studies N-Vorl with a look of disdain. She eventually looks away and goes back to her work checking system output levels and making sure that the virus purge is doing its intended job. N-Vorl studies her as well; trying to understand this strange ooman female who shows almost no fear. Teresa finishes her task and ejects the USB device from the central computer. Standing erect, Dr. Boyd crosses to a nearby door. She inputs a code in the keypad and a red status message illuminates. Teresa tries her code a second time, but to no avail. ¡°Oh¡­Hell!¡± Teresa mutters sarcastically and raises the Orville rifle to her shoulder. Teresa shoots the keypad and the door gradually draws open. Lucky for her, the supply closet isn''t a truly secure area. The keypad is mostly for show. Otherwise, that trick might not have worked. Or worse, triggered a security shutdown. With an exasperated sigh, Teresa enters the room. P¡¯taal and N-Vorl exchange a brief glance and then join Dr. Boyd in the room. Grabbing several walkie talkies from a charging station, Teresa shoves a few extra batteries into her lab coat pocket. She turns two of the radios on and tosses them to P¡¯taal and N-Vorl respectively. N-Vorl catches the radio, but he is obviously not happy. ¡°Your excessive noise will have alerted the Judases to our presence,¡± N-Vorl growls. Teresa turns on her radio and shoots N-Vorl a sarcastic smirk. She offers him a slow wink. ¡°Oh¡­I think you can handle whatever comes our way, N-Vorl!¡± Teresa teases. ¡°Besides, they¡¯re coming whether we like it or not. Those radios¡­Are in case we get separated. I don¡¯t have one of your handy little mask communication setups. So¡­We¡¯ll use these. Don''t worry...The volume is set very low.¡± Teresa moves swiftly to another part of the room and yanks free a large duffle bag from the storage rack. She begins shoving things inside. She points to a large piece of painter¡¯s plastic. ¡°Can you give me that thin sheet of¡­Clear stuff. The sheet you can see through. On that table over there?¡± Teresa calls to P¡¯taal. P¡¯taal silently hands Dr. Boyd the large sheet of painter¡¯s plastic. ¡°Thank you,¡± Teresa says and folds the sheet of plastic up. She places it in the duffle as well. ¡°I think we can go now. We should get back to the others. But first, put on some more of this scent stuff and activate your cloaks. We need to go full stealth from here on out. Like N-Vorl said¡­They¡¯ll be coming because of all the racket.¡± Teresa cuts off a piece of scent gland for herself and rubs it over her exposed flesh and clothes. The two yautjas do the same, not liking it one bit. Dr. Boyd squeezes between the two large aliens and exits the storage room. She crosses to the sprawled corpse of the Bess Judas and removes what remains of the grotesque head. Which isn''t much. She wraps the insect¡¯s severed head in the painter¡¯s plastic and shoves it in the duffle bag. When she stands, both P¡¯taal and N-Vorl are staring in her direction; their heads tilted comically. ¡°It''s for research,¡± Teresa explains. ¡°I need to know exactly what genetic mutations this particular specimen has undergone. That camouflage was pretty impressive. I¡¯m almost sure it¡¯s an early-stage variation of your own camouflage. But I¡¯ll have to do some testing first. It would help if the head were more intact, but I''ll take what I can get. This bug really ticked me off."
Zipping the duffle bag, Teresa struggles to carry it, the flamethrower, and her Orville rifle. But somehow she manages. Chapter Twenty-Two: About Honor
As they are walking, N-Vorl continues to stare daggers into Teresa¡¯s back. He has slowed his pace, in order to stay behind the overloaded woman, and isn¡¯t pleased about it. Dr. Boyd glances over her shoulder and then stops. The mask cannot hide the rigidness of the enormous yautja¡¯s posture. ¡°What is it now?¡± Teresa exclaims. ¡°If I¡¯m slowing you down? You¡¯re more than welcome to give me a hand. But I¡¯m not leaving any of this stuff behind. I want to make as few trips to this side of the ship as possible.¡± Teresa offers N-Vorl the duffle bag and he blanches, remembering the three Judas heads now wrapped inside the painter¡¯s plastic. Did she expect him to carry her trophies? Teresa sighs and impatiently shakes the handle of the bag. She keeps her eyes level with where she believes N-Vorl''s eyes to be. ¡°We don¡¯t have all day, Sir N-Vorl!¡± Teresa teases. ¡°Your elder is expecting us.¡± N-vorl roughly takes the bag and moves past Dr. Boyd. She lowers her eyes and bites on her inner jaw. A secretive smile curls the doctor''s lips and she turns to watch him storm off. ¡°Thank you,¡± Teresa calls after him. Dr. Boyd entertains the idea that the only reason N-Vorl had remained in back was to protect her as she struggled under her load. However, she''s pretty sure he couldn''t have cared less. Following orders, more like it. His storming to the front is yet another symptom of his tempestuous attitude. P¡¯taal, who is in cloak, moves to take N-Vorl¡¯s place. Teresa is able to tell because he gently touches her forearm as he steps behind her. Despite the fact that both companions are distinctly alien to her; Dr. Boyd experiences a sense of calm. She knows they will not allow anything to happen to her. If only to satisfy their mission¡ªand keep the orders of their commander. P¡¯taal drops his cloak and Teresa turns to him. The yautja reaches to the side of his mask and a loud hiss issues from it as pressurized air escapes. He repeats the process on the other side. Removing the mask, P¡¯taal places it under his armpit and levels his eyes to Teresa¡¯s face. There are no huge differences between the face of the yautja youth and that of his elder¡ªsave the excessive prickly hairs which dominate the elder yautja¡¯s head and the size of the elder¡¯s catlike teeth. N-Vorl pauses in the corridor ahead and waits impatiently. P¡¯taal¡¯s golden eyes stare at Teresa as if he can peer into her very soul. ¡°I will walk beside you,¡± P¡¯taal offers. ¡°It is better this way. Elder Glandis does not wish harm to come to you. I will see that it does not.¡± Teresa meets the yautja¡¯s gaze. She smiles and lightly touches his arm. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°Thank you,¡± she responds. ¡°Even if it¡¯s not exactly for the right reasons.¡± She continues to stare at P¡¯taal, before shifting her gaze to the mask in his hand. ¡°That mask¡­What does it do? Why do you need it? You seem like you can breathe air just fine,¡± Dr. Boyd inquires, curiosity getting the better of her.
¡°It serves as a visual interface,¡± P¡¯taal replies. ¡°We are able to view the heat signatures of our intended prey using these masks.¡± ¡°Oh¡­Wow,¡± Teresa exclaims with excitement. However, she quickly lowers her voice and surveys the area. ¡°You mean¡­Like infrared?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± P¡¯taal agrees. ¡° I believe that is the word you oomans use for it.¡± Dr. Boyd bites down on the tip of her thumbnail and stares fixedly at P¡¯taal¡¯s mask. ¡°Why infrared? I mean¡­Not all creatures put off excessive heat? Or...What if they develop a mutation which allows them to avoid detection? What then?¡± ¡°Our scientists have already considered that possibility,¡± P¡¯taal says patiently. ¡°There was a time when all yautja saw things only in infrared. However, our scientists found a way to alter our genes¡­So that many of us can now see as you see. We use the mask to remind us of the old ways. And to fight as our ancestors fought.¡± ¡°Geneticists?!¡± Dr. Boyd says excitedly. ¡°So¡­You¡¯re what? A race of badass universal soldier hunter geneticists?¡± P¡¯taal¡¯s brow creases, making the prickly hairs along his hairline spring forward. His golden eyes study Teresa¡¯s face. ¡°If that is your ooman name for us? Yes, that is what we are,¡± P¡¯taal says almost dejectedly. ¡°Okay,¡± Teresa replies with a friendly smile. P¡¯taal does not return Dr. Boyd¡¯s smile. He continues to peer at her, an eerie expression dancing across his alien face. ¡°You are an ooman,¡± P¡¯taal says. ¡°Why would you aid us? Do you not realize that what you do here might be used against your own kind one day?¡± Teresa sighs and nods her head. Truth be told, she hadn''t really thought about it. Hell. There hasn''t really been time to think about anything. Nevertheless, in this moment, she experiences a sense of surreal calm. She has already made up her mind that she will help them. ¡°Oh¡­I¡¯m very aware,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°I can¡¯t help but be aware of that fact. But I don¡¯t see where I have any other choice." ¡°There is always a choice,¡± P¡¯taal says. ¡°Oh, yes. Choices,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Death¡­Or death. The choice being¡­How fast? Or, how painful?¡± ¡°Is not an honorable death more preferable to one of dishonor?¡± P¡¯taal inquires. ¡°Dishonor? I would say the utter failure of my project and the subsequent deaths of all my colleagues¡­Already qualifies me for that,¡± Dr. Boyd counters. ¡°Even if I somehow manage to survive this ordeal, and get back to Earth¡­The only thing I have to look forward to is more dishonor and a forced retirement. They may even send me back out to the far reaches of space to create more monsters. As an atonement for my failure here. I¡¯m tired of seeing the faces of my friends and colleagues on those damn bugs! Maybe I can turn them in another direction? Maybe I can¡¯t? But I¡¯ve got to try.¡± P¡¯taal says nothing but continues to stare intently at Teresa.
¡°Besides,¡± Teresa continues. ¡°In the last twenty-four hours¡­I¡¯ve seen mankind lose to not one, but two formidable foes. So tell me¡­Why should humanity have a monopoly on warfare throughout the galaxy? Or even the universe? Frankly, I don¡¯t feel we deserve it.¡± Further up the corridor, N-Vorl takes out his combistick and opens it to its full length. It is obvious, he wishes to keep moving. P¡¯taal has learned all he wishes to learn about the strange ooman female, and replaces his mask. Teresa takes this as her cue to move along. Only one other Judas makes its presence known on their trek back to the transport hangar. P¡¯taal and N-Vorl dispatch the humanoid insect without much trouble. Dr. Boyd can¡¯t help but admire their skill. Chapter Twenty-Three: Lost Love
Science Wing Security Station The seven yautjas, and one human, round the corner¡ªheaded for the entrance to the main laboratory. N-Vorl carries the overstuffed duffle bag as if the weight of it means nothing to him. While still brandishing his combistick in the other hand. From time to time, Dr. Boyd hears the whir of a shoulder cannon targeting or the hum of a laser sight. However, not a single Judas appears in the corridors. When the security station comes within view, Teresa stifles a startled cry. At least three colonial marines are sprawled on the floor; their bodies in various stages of decay and mutilation. Dropping her flamethrower and Orville rifle, Dr. Boyd hurries in the direction of a corpse lying only a foot or so away from the station¡¯s enormous console. Kneeling beside the corpse, Teresa uses a hand to stroke the left side of Security Chief Crew¡¯s face. Her deepest fear realized, Teresa allows her head to fall to her chest. She shakes her head vigorously from side to side. In the back of her mind, a voice screams, and she desperately wishes she could wake up from this hellish nightmare. The events of the last few days are worse than anything she could have ever conceived in all of her years of space travel and cryosleep sessions. ¡°No,¡± Teresa utters softly. As Dr. Boyd''s anger grows, her voice becomes gradually louder. Until she is practically screaming. ¡°No! No! NO!¡± Teresa says in a voice alternating between a sob and a scream. She uses her hand to close the security chief¡¯s pale dead eyes, and then struggles to remove what remains of her lab coat. A strong hand grips Teresa¡¯s forearm, and she whirls on N-Vorl. Teresa¡¯s eyes narrow dangerously, and she doesn¡¯t bother hiding her fury at N-Vorl¡¯s interference. ¡°Don¡¯t touch me!¡± Dr. Boyd roars. So great is Teresa''s anger and fear, that she nearly loses perspective. Her jaw clenches and she comes close to baring her teeth. Maybe this is the kind of anger a savage brute will understand. ¡°I knew him. He was a great man! I want to cover him up! Have you no respect for the dead?!¡± Teresa cries. Dr. Boyd attempts to pull free, but N-Vorl tightens his grip on her arm. He tenses his muscles, preparing to yank Teresa to her feet. The robed elder, Glandis, chitters loudly. - - ¡°Release the ooman,¡± Elder Glandis orders through his mask''s interface. N-Vorl bristles and glowers down at Teresa, whose colors are changing rapidly with her fiery mood. The female''s eyes are narrowed and her jaw is tightly clenched. This level of emotion can only mean one thing. Trouble. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
¡°Elder, It is a mistake to trust this female,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°You see how she resists at every opportunity. She was close with the other ooman. It is obvious from her reaction to finding his body. She will want vengeance for his death. Mark my words, Elder. She will find a way to have said vengeance.¡± Elder Glandis glances over one shoulder at his second-in-command, who has uttered something to his leader. N-Vorl stands to full attention, and presses the butt end of his combistick to the floor. With duo hisses of pressurized air; Elder Glandis removes his well-worn mask and glares into the face of his petulant subordinate. There is no mirth in the aged elder¡¯s eyes as he meets N-Vorl¡¯s gaze. He chastises N-Vorl in the language of their forefathers. ¡°When that time comes¡­We will deal with the ooman,¡± Elder Glandis intones. ¡°But until then, you will watch where you step, youngblood. Let the ooman cover her dead. There isn¡¯t much left of him. It should not take much time.¡± N-Vorl nods and releases Teresa¡¯s arm. She rubs vigorously at her arm before returning her attention to her dead fellow ooman. - - A verbal exchange, Teresa is unable to understand, commences over their interface. At one point, the elder becomes visibly angry and removes his battle-scarred mask. The elder alien soundly chastises N-Vorl in a foreign language. With shame, the younger yautja releases Teresa¡¯s arm. Dramatically pulling her arm away from N-Vorl, Teresa rubs at it vigorously, and then resumes removing her lab coat. She pushes down the emotion welling up inside of her; not wanting the seven alien warriors surrounding her to see her weakness. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Richard,¡± Teresa whispers softly. She covers her dead former lover with the lab coat, and kisses the tips of three fingers on her left hand. Pressing the same fingers against where Richard¡¯s forehead would be, Teresa exhales a wary breath. P¡¯taal offers her his hand and she climbs to her feet¡ªshooting N-Vorl a hateful glare. Retrieving her Orville rifle and flamethrower, Teresa marches past N-Vorl. ¡°The lab is this way,¡± Teresa says dryly. ¡°P¡¯taal¡­You will observe the access codes. You may need them. Other forms of verification won''t work without¡­Well¡­My living presence. So, I wouldn¡¯t recommend anyone shooting me in the back with one of those shoulder cannon doohickeys.¡± Dr. Boyd turns and peers directly at N-Vorl as she states this last fact. The warrior, his face hidden by his mask, is no doubt fuming at her overt insolence. She returns her attention to the front and begins inputting her access code into the wall keypad. She continues to speak as she does so. The sound of her voice distracting her from images of the dead humans, including Richard Crews, lying only feet away. ¡°I can override some of the controls manually¡­In order to give you more freedom to move around the ship," Teresa states in a sickly sweet voice. "After all, I am lead scientist¡­And therefore, I have a higher security clearance rating. But I may still have to do a little tech magic to work around some other security parameters. You¡¯ll have to be¡­A little patient.¡± The door slides open, and Teresa performs a dramatic wave of her hand.
¡°After you,¡± Teresa says to P¡¯taal. ¡°I figure, you''d want to make sure the coast is clear...For your elder.¡± P¡¯taal does not respond. He strolls confidently into the main lab. Teresa offers N-Vorl a sarcastic smile and a wink. ¡°Who knows, N-Vorl,¡± she says mockingly. ¡°You may even get to kill something.¡± N-Vorl¡¯s head lowers slightly, and she knows that he is leveling his evil gaze in her direction. ¡°Who knows?¡± N-Vorls hisses cryptically. ¡°Maybe, I will.¡± Striding in after P¡¯taal, N-Vorl swishes past Dr. Boyd. The human scientist sucks on her lower lip and then whirls in the direction of the lab doors. ¡°I thought...We agreed to no more threats,¡± she mutters under her breath. Dr. Boyd bitterly follows the seven fierce aliens into the heart of the laboratory. The double doors sliding shut behind them. Chapter Twenty-Four: We All Have Our Orders
Teresa drops down into her chair and reboots her computer. Uploading the anti-virus program in communications central has done the trick. Although there are some minor power fluctuations, almost all programs are running as intended. Dr. Boyd fervently types commands on her keyboard. With dedicated attention, she has managed to save the larval Judas within the damaged oothecae. Instructing her tablet to mirror the information on her desktop computer, Teresa monitors the insect¡¯s life signs using a medical app on her tablet. The larva seems to be developing just fine. She uses the app to remotely increase the flow of nutrient-rich fluid to the holding tank¡¯s makeshift I.V. drip. Dr. Boyd silently watches the readouts before leaning back in her chair and sucking on her bottom lip. Teresa smiles inwardly, fond memories wafting through her mind. Memories of retired Corporal Richard Lambert Crews. Their brief time together on New Vegas. Meeting on an abandoned pier, on a foggy night, over an artificial lake. Their drunken kiss. Snuggling on his couch at the barracks. Neither of them wanting to be more than friends. For fear that to do so might invite disaster. The loss of Richard¡¯s arm, in the battle of Kelxer¡ªagainst the superior numbers of the Earthers. A resistance group dedicated to the belief that humans should never have ventured into space. The shell of a man who returned to Earth, battered and broken. The Earther resistance was eventually put down, but the damage was already done. She had rocked him in her arms many nights, holding him tight to her bosom. Never feeling quite the same warmth as she had felt in previous times. The look in his eyes. Never the happiness she''d once basked in. They had slowly drifted apart. Only to find each other again¡ªmonths before signing up for the California¡¯s crew. And now, Richard is dead.
A single tear rolls down Dr. Boyd¡¯s cheek, and she angrily wipes it away. Ignoring the erratic beating of her heart, Teresa focuses on the tablet image of the larval Judas in the holding tank. In one of the lab¡¯s many rooms, Elder Glandis is debriefing his two lieutenants¡ªor whatever they are called in the yautja language¡ª, on their mission to the communications wing. Another yautja, Teresa believes it to be the one who held the briefcase before, stands behind the robed Glandis. All are now unmasked, and with very few distinctions between them, Teresa is easily confused. A fifth yautja passes by Dr. Boyd¡¯s workstation and she offers him a kind smile. The yautja nods but continues on his way. Teresa studies his masculine form, and then goes back to her work. - - ¡°Elder, I mean no disrespect. While I agree that the ooman female is very intelligent. I strongly believe, we are taking a great risk involving her in our mission,¡± N-Vorl growls in his native tongue. While he is obviously quite angry, N''Vorl is careful to keep his tone deferential. P¡¯taal turns to his companion and raises his own voice in dissent. ¡°The female has already proven herself to be quite valuable,¡± P¡¯taal reasons. ¡°Without her knowledge of the creature the oomans call Judas¡­We might have lost more of our brave hunters.¡± ¡°It was not knowledge we could not have figured out for ourselves!¡± N-Vorl counters. ¡°Yes, but at what cost?¡± P¡¯taal continues. N-Vorl turns from P¡¯taal and appeals to his leader once again. ¡°Elder? Let me dispose of the ooman female. We can proceed with our mission without her¡­We don¡¯t need her,¡± N-Vorl insists. A smile alters the older yautja¡¯s face and he sweeps a hand in N-Vorl¡¯s direction. Both P¡¯taal and N-Vorl drop to one knee in deference to their leader. It is Elder Glandis¡¯ turn to speak. ¡°The female has proven invaluable up to this point,¡± Elder Glandis says. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The robed leader places his open palm on the top of N-Vorl¡¯s head. Glandis'' second-in-command bristles; eyeing N-Vorl with obvious scrutiny. ¡°We were sent to this planet to cultivate it for the coming hunts," Elder Glandis continues. "If she is willing to help us¡­I don¡¯t see why we should not work together. The oomans have provided us with both the facilities, and the groundwork. No warrior need die a useless death. Would you condemn your brothers to such an end, N-Vorl? With your petulance?!¡± N¡¯Vorl¡¯s head snaps up and he pleads with Glandis. ¡°No, Elder¡­I would not,¡± N-Vorl exclaims. ¡°But can we trust one who would betray their own kind? She has agreed to work with us¡­Even with the knowledge that whatever we create here could be used against her own world one day.¡± P¡¯taal chances a response. It is P''taal''s belief that N-Vorl is seeking to mischaracterize the ooman scientist for his own benefit. ¡°I think you are reading too much into it, N-Vorl!¡± P¡¯taal says in a hoarse whisper. P''taal glances at N-Vorl from the side of his eye. He is expecting the larger yautja to put up a fuss. He is not disappointed. N-Vorl whirls on P¡¯taal, his temper flaring.
¡°And you have always been too trusting, P¡¯taal,¡± N-Vorl growls through clenched teeth. ¡°The ooman female¡¯s exact words were: ¡®Why should humanity have a monopoly on warfare throughout the galaxy? Or even the universe? I don¡¯t feel we deserve it!¡¯ Are those not the words of a traitor, P¡¯taal? Without loyalty...What is to keep her from revealing our most guarded secrets to one of our enemies? She cannot be trusted.¡± P¡¯taal remains silent, knowing the final word will belong to Elder Glandis. Glandis places a reassuring hand on N-Vorl¡¯s shoulder and smiles even wider. ¡°That is why...I am putting you in charge of overseeing the ooman, N-Vorl?¡± Glandis says. ¡°Me, elder?!¡± N-Vorl says in disbelief. His mandibles click rapidly with his sudden agitation. ¡°I believe you are perfect for the task, N-Vorl!¡± Glandis says confidently. ¡°You will keep the ooman female in line. I have spoken. We will say no more on the subject.¡± Elder Glandis sweeps out of the room, headed for the lab he has designated as his quarters. The silent yautja, Glandis¡¯ second-in-command, follows quickly behind the departing dignitary. N-Vorl glares at P¡¯taal and climbs heavily to his feet. The yautja exchange a heated glance and then go their separate ways. P¡¯taal to his station, and N-Vorl to find Dr. Boyd. - - P¡¯taal and N-Vorl are still in conference with Elder Glandis when Dr. Boyd decides she¡¯s had enough of the filth. She climbs from her seat at the desk and heads for the small lounge and adjoining bathroom. Even though a thorough sweep was performed of the lab and connected areas, Teresa grabs the Orville rifle just in case. Whether or not the yautja are aware of her departure, Teresa is unsure. Quite frankly, at the moment, she doesn¡¯t care. Heading to a small metal locker, Dr. Boyd retrieves a new lab coat and a change of clothes. She almost skips with joy as she heads for the bathroom¡ªand the shower within. - - N-Vorl storms past the two yautja standing guard near the main entrance. He glances angrily from side to side, his beaded braids whipping with every motion. There is no sign of the ooman female. Rather than ask his companions where the scientist has gone, N-Vorl stalks toward the lounge. With the exception of Lab Room Three, which the ooman has chosen as her private quarters, the other lab rooms have been converted into makeshift quarters for the yautja team. She will not be there. There are very few other places she might go. Unless, she has been stupid enough to try to escape. N-Vorl''s mouth widens into a savage grin. If only, she has been so foolish. Entering the lounge, N-Vorl glances around the elaborately decorated room. He spies Teresa''s shoes, where she tossed them, at the entrance to an adjoining corridor. The sound of running water catches his attention. Stepping to the end of the hallway, N-Vorl considers his options. He is almost certain of what he will find. - - Teresa emerges from her shower, dressed and feeling like a new woman. The slime and grime from her skirmishes with humanoid Judas bugs has been washed away. Grabbing a towel for her head, Teresa heads back to the lounge. Once in the lounge, she props the Orville rifle against a metal chair and bends at the waist, letting her wet hair fall around her face. Childishly, she shakes her head from side to side, allowing droplets of water to fly everywhere. Tossing her head back, and stifling a laugh; Dr. Boyd blots her hair with the towel. She does her best to pretend that everything thus far has only been a bad dream. Movement behind her makes Teresa instinctively reach for the rifle. N-Vorl lowers his cloak and Teresa is both relieved and angry. She points toward the entrance to the employee lounge. For once, her temper flares just as hot as the adversarial yautja¡¯s. ¡°What the hell are you doing?!¡± Teresa yells. ¡°Were you watching me the whole time?!¡± ¡°No,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°I stood watch from here while you cleaned yourself.¡±
Teresa finishes drying her hair and then throws the damp towel over the back of the metal chair to dry. She grabs her Orville rifle and crosses the lounge. As she passes N-Vorl, she glances up at him. ¡°Right,¡± Teresa says dryly. Without another word, Dr. Boyd hurries past the silent yautja and out of the lounge. N-Vorl pauses for the briefest of moments before following her from the room. Chapter Twenty-Five: Mission Control Communications Central A warning flashes on the screen: ¡°Large Scale Planetary Disturbance Detected. Possible loss of power in the next one-hundred and thirty-two hours.¡± The computer¡¯s systems are still updating and the message is not relayed throughout the ship as is usual procedure. A large adult Judas scrambles across the ceiling, its grotesque form reflected on the computer¡¯s screen. Another Judas follows in the first insect¡¯s wake. Smaller. A male. Both Judases seek out a quiet corner where they can propagate their species and prepare for the coming generations. - - FROM: Patrick Ang, Ryan McDermott, Henry Ellis (Weyland, Yutani, and Associates); General Erik Weyland SUBJECT: Mission Objective MESSAGE: U.S.S. California missing. No communication in over 170 hours. Contact at Dayshadow Industries cannot be reached. Go ahead with Phase One of Project Nomad. Will keep you updated. Delete this message once you have read the information therein. - - Elsewhere in the human sphere An unidentified man and woman are roused from their slumber by the irritating chime of an incoming message. The woman groans as her partner stretches and leaves the warmth of their bed. She waits patiently while her partner completes his important business. Secrecy is a cornerstone of their relationship. She has gotten used to it. Moments later, the unidentified man returns to bed. He draws back the expensive covers and reclaims his former position beside his mistress. She sits up and stares down at his aged face. "Is everything okay?" the curious mistress inquires. The young woman studies her partner''s face in the darkness. The subtle smile he wears speaks of triumph. Very few times has she seen him genuinely happy. He is happy now. She knows she will never get the full story, but even a hint would be nice. "Everything is fine," the executive says with a wide smile. "Better than fine. I expect we''ll have the rights to all of Dayshadow''s current projects within thirty-six hours. Not much longer than that." The mistress opens her mouth in surprise. Her lover has never been so forthcoming in the past. Whatever was in that message must have been pretty damn good. Her partner reaches up and draws her to him, kissing her passionately. They gaze knowingly into each other''s eyes. "It doesn''t hurt having a general in your back pocket either," the mister says. "Oh...No. Make that two." A light chuckle escapes the old execs lips and he kisses his much younger partner again. He isn''t worried that she will tell what she knows. Fear doesn''t factor into his daily life. She won''t live to see another day. He''s already made the arrangements for her very tragic shuttle accident. Better have some fun while he has the chance. After all, this is a day for celebration. - - Lab Room Twelve Teresa returns from the lounge and drops down heavily into her chair. N-Vorl marches into the main lab, confers with one of his fellow yautja, and then heads for Lab Room Twelve as well. Dr. Boyd rolls her eyes as he appears in the doorway, arms crossed over his enormous chest. Teresa lowers her gaze and wakes up her desktop computer. Opening the appropriate programs, she uses the stylus from her tablet to follow along with several readouts scrolling across the desktop''s screen. "Hmmm," Teresa murmurs. "I wonder..." Teresa lowers the stylus and begins typing furiously. She is soon completely absorbed in her postulating, muttering softly as she types. She almost forgets that the hulking yautja is there. "Bess...Master Cook Stevens...Theodore...Even a yautja soldier. I have no idea when they could have gotten a hold of him," Dr. Body utters almost inaudibly. "I''ll need to find out how many were killed from their initial team." "Four!" P''taal says beside her. Teresa jumps at the closeness of the yautja''s voice. She raises a hand to her mouth and turns to gaze at the warrior with widened eyes. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "Oh...Uh...What did you say?" Teresa gasps. "We lost four brothers our first day aboard this ooman vessel," P''taal answers. The yautja warrior averts his eyes and instead looks at N-Vorl. N-Vorl does not appear happy about P''taal''s indulgence of the ooman female. He scowls and clicks his mandibles in fury. P''taal is nonplussed, but doesn''t say another word. "Four?" Teresa repeats. "Wow...I am sorry. Did you happen to recognize the yautja whose face the Judas was wearing? Did you know him?" "I did not!" P''taal says emotionlessly. "The face was too malformed. It did not look like any yautja I have ever known." P''taal decides he is finished answering questions and stalks from Lab Room Twelve. N-Vorl only minimally moves out of the other warrior''s way. He stares across the room at Teresa with menacing eyes. "That wasn''t very helpful," Teresa sighs. "Oh well." Dr. Boyd lowers her head and goes back to work. Reaching across the table, she pulls her tablet computer toward her. Opening the Notes app, Teresa uses her stylus to scribble barely legible words onto the screen. These aliens may understand English, but surely they don''t understand chicken scratch. If they want what she knows, they''ll have to keep her around. All of the truly valuable information will be written in her own special handwriting. Call it insurance. A smile tugs at Teresa''s lips and she glances up at N-Vorl. She is taken aback when she realizes that the sturdy yautja is not there. Her eyes narrow and she searches the room. N-Vorl rematerializes to her left, less than three feet away. For the second time, Teresa is startled by the sudden emergence of an alien figure. She is already growing tired of this game. "Yes. I get it!" Teresa groans. She reclines her head back and runs a hand through her damp hair. Impatience and frustration strain her voice. "You guys can come and go without my knowledge! That''s very impressive!" Teresa nearly growls. "Guess I''d better not dream of doing anything shady. But if you want me to be more productive...You should probably stop distracting me." N-Vorl tilts his head and sneers at Teresa. At least, she thinks it is a sneer. The big yautja may just have indigestion. Teresa frustratedly rolls her eyes and goes back to her notes. The doctor props her left elbow on the desk, and cups that side of her face with a palm. She angles her head toward the opposite wall, in an attempt to screen out any view of N-Vorl. The bold yautja simply crosses to the other side of the room. He glowers at her from above the desk. This time, Teresa is sure he is sneering. "Enough!" Teresa says. Gathering her tablet and putting the large desktop in sleep mode, Teresa climbs to her feet. She shoots N-Vorl a glare of her own. "I cannot work like this!" Teresa growls. Teresa continues to glare at N-Vorl and presses her tablet computer to her chest. "Do you have to be such a jerk?" Teresa hisses angrily. "We''re supposed to be on the same team...Remember?" "Only because the rest of your team is dead," N-Vorl snarls. "Were they not. We would have nothing to talk about. And if not for the intervention of others...You would be dead as well." Teresa squints in N-Vorl''s direction, not wanting to believe that a being so human in likeness could be so evil. She storms silently from her lab. N-Vorl follows her with his eyes. His sneer grows even larger. It is better that she does not work in seclusion. Treachery is a part of every ooman. This female is no different. Satisfied, N-Vorl marches out of Lab Room Twelve. - - Teresa is still fuming when she enters the main lab. Plopping down at her usual desk, she turns on the desktop computer situated there and sets up her tablet for mirroring. The two yautja guarding the main entrance, and the Judas tanks, turn briefly to glance in her direction. Teresa is too angry to attempt placating them with faux smiles. She lowers her head and focuses solely on her research. Within hours, they may have the beginnings of a whole new batch of captive Judases. N-Vorl enters the lab a few moments later. He leans against the wall, directly behind Teresa. The cruel sneer has not left his face. Teresa recognizes the sound of N-Vorl''s arrival due to the noise made by the implements on his belt and leg protectors. The lumbering brute is so decked out in unnecessary bells and whistles that Teresa is not surprised the Judases were aware of him. A yawn escapes Dr. Boyd''s lips and she realizes just how little sleep she has gotten in the past few days. Coffee will have to be her saving grace. She probably won''t be getting much sleep with N-Vorl hanging around. But then again, maybe she''ll just have a talk with Elder Glandis. Keep N-Vorl on a short leash. He seems to both fear and despise his elder. That can only mean one thing. Whatever is between them...It''s personal. Teresa yawns a second time and exhales a loud breath. She runs a hand through her hair and braces the opposite elbow on the desk. Staring ahead at the readouts on her desktop, Dr. Boyd''s eyes slowly begin to close. She is just nodding off when P''taal''s soft voice wakes her. Teresa''s head shoots up as if she has been caught red-handed stealing a cookie from the jar. P''taal''s eyes are full of compassion and mischief. "Have you not slept enough?" P''taal says with his own version of a smile. "I would have thought N-Vorl''s sleep spray would have cured any tiredness you felt. You slept for quite some time." Teresa''s eyes narrow and she glances back at N-Vorl. The lumbering oaf still wears the same ugly sneer. Accented by a menacing half-lidded leer from his green alien eyes. "Oh...So that''s what happened," Teresa mutters. "I didn''t remember falling asleep outside of the ship...Or fainting, for that matter. Nice little trick you guys have." "It does come in handy," P''taal agrees innocently. "Especially when dealing with those we do not wish to harm. Many of your kind will fight to the death or bring attention to us by screaming. We can eliminate this by using the sleeping spray." "By ''my kind''...Are you referring to women? To females?" Dr. Boyd inquires with a sly smile. "Yes," P''taal says. "There are strict rules governing the amount of violence to be used against ooman females. I believe some hunters have forgotten this." P''taal peers straight in N-Vorl''s direction after the conclusion of his statement. N-Vorl only shoots P''taal a hard look. P''taal calmly lowers his voice. "You needn''t worry," P''taal says. "Not all yautja are always so angry at the world. You are here because our elder wishes it. As before, I will see you come to no harm. That is the order." With a simple head nod, P''taal strolls away. Teresa watches him go with a puzzled expression. He and N-Vorl are as different as night and day. Dr. Boyd chances a glance at N-Vorl. The large hunter is still leaning against the back wall. He glowers at Teresa with a look of pure hatred. Taking her ponytail holder from her wrist, Teresa slips it back into her hair and turns fully to face her desktop computer. P''taal''s reassurance of her safety spurs her along. Chapter Twenty-Six: Fulfillment of Ones Duties
Three hours later ¡°N-Vorl! Can you come here a minute?¡± Teresa calls to the large yautja. ¡°I need to pick your brain!¡± The yautja warrior scowls, his mandibles opening and closing rapidly. An agitated chitter escapes from deep within his throat. Teresa sighs and swivels her chair to face him. ¡°I don¡¯t mean your actual brain. I need your expertise,¡± Dr. Boyd clarifies. "Probably couldn''t find your brain if I wanted to." The second part, Teresa says under her breath. She impatiently waves N-Vorl over with a hand. "Please," Teresa insists. "There¡¯s some answers I¡¯m looking for and you may be able to help me with them.¡± N-Vorl steps before the desk and glances down at Dr. Boyd¡¯s screen. Teresa points a finger at the computer and brings his attention to a large graphic. ¡°Your cloaking¡­It uses some sort of fancy yautja technology to bend the light? Am I correct? I mean, you guys aren''t really going invisible man every time you disappear...Right?¡± Teresa inquires. ¡°It is much more complex than your kind will ever be capable of comprehending. But you are on the right track,¡± N-Vorl says condescendingly. ¡°Uh...Okay. Well. Anyway¡ª,¡± Teresa says, returning N-Vorl¡¯s ire. ¡°It appears the Judases are using a specialized form of harmonic resonance to mimic your cloaking. It involves a rapid vibration of their wing cases. In this way, they''re able to project the same illusion. Here watch¡­¡±
Dr. Boyd leans forward and draws her touchscreen tablet across the desk. She presses a small green icon on the tablet¡¯s screen. The revived Judas in holding tank seven begins to pace. The insect climbs onto the wall and its wings open a fraction. Then, it begins to vibrate. Slowly, and then faster. There is a barely audible high-pitched hum, and then the Judas winks out. Only a nearly indistinguishable amorphous blob hovers where the juvenile once clung to the wall. ¡°See?¡± Teresa says proudly. ¡°What did I say?¡± N-Vorl leans over, pressing down on the back of Dr. Boyd¡¯s chair, and stares at the image on the desktop screen. Teresa is studying the same image on her tablet. When she looks up, the side of N-Vorl¡¯s face is so close that she draws back in surprise. N-Vorl turns his head and their faces are mere inches apart. The unfriendly yautja¡¯s angry eyes boring into those of the human scientist. ¡°How is this possible?¡± N-Vorl growls. He does not bother to alter his proximity to the ooman female. ¡°Insects are very adaptable creatures,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°Constantly evolving to stay ahead of the curve. The Judas which bred this particular specimen must have encountered one of your hunters somewhere on the ship. It passed on that knowledge of adaptability to its offspring. The original Judases evolved in a sewer¡­Feeding off of sewer people. Somewhere along the way, they determined humans to be their greatest threat¡­And evolved to mimic us. My guess is, they view your kind as an even bigger threat. They¡¯ve gotten a taste of yautja blood. And they like it.¡± ¡°You find this amusing?" N-Vorl hisses. ¡°I¡¯m a scientist,¡± Teresa says. ¡°It isn¡¯t about amusement. It¡¯s about the benefits to my work. Believe me. Anything which threatens you¡­Threatens me. You forget¡­I¡¯m the only ooman alive on this ship.¡± N-Vorl sneers cruelly, his eyes burning into Teresa¡¯s. ¡°Yes¡­You are,¡± N-Vorl says. He finally stands to his full height. It is as if a great weight is lifted from Dr. Boyd¡¯s chest and she is able to breathe easily again. Teresa watches N-Vorl warily. She climbs slowly to her feet. ¡°I¡¯m going to the lounge for some coffee,¡± Teresa says with a weak smile. ¡°You¡¯re more than welcome to continue your sentry duties in there.¡± Much to Dr. Boyd¡¯s chagrin, N-Vorl does indeed follow her into the lounge. Heading to the counter, where the coffee machine and food replicator are recessed in the wall, Teresa inputs commands for a cup of decaffeinated coffee and a blueberry muffin. While the food is reconstituted, and tastes nothing like homemade, the thought of sunny afternoons eating blueberry corn muffins warms Dr. Boyd¡¯s heart. A shadow covers one side of the counter, and Teresa turns to find N-Vorl standing close beside her. The yautja stares at her with an expression which can only be disgust. ¡°Whatever your plans are¡­Whatever you intend to do¡­Know I will uncover it,¡± the yautja hisses. N-Vorl''s mandibles click furiously and he glares at her through narrowed eyes. Teresa studies his mouthparts with both interest and fear. His mandibles are slightly bigger than P''taal''s and the points of his tusks appear to have been sharpened at some point. What kind of damage could they do? ¡°I don¡¯t know what you mean,¡± Teresa mutters softly. ¡°I have no plans. I am doing my best to cooperate. Dammit, I saved your life out there. Doesn¡¯t that count for something? If I wanted you dead¡­Wouldn¡¯t I have let that Judas kill you?¡± Teresa¡¯s hand unconsciously moves across the counter, seeking anything she might use as a weapon. A rack of clean coffee mugs is all that is within reach. The large yautja grins and takes a backward step. He crosses both arms over his chest. His smug grin transforms into an angry scowl.
¡°I would not hurt you, ooman,¡± N-Vorl says, reading her intentions. ¡°My elder wishes you alive. For now. As for saving my life¡­I am grateful to you. But should you double-cross us¡­That will not prevent me from doing my duty.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t expect anything different,¡± Teresa replies coolly. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. N-Vorl gives Teresa a final hard look before spinning on his heels and exiting the lounge. Trembling beyond control, Dr. Boyd grips the edge of the counter. A small cry of fear and shock escapes her lips and she presses a hand against them to suppress it. Maybe it would have been better to allow the angry yautja to kill her when they had first met? It appears she is doomed to die whether she cooperates or not. Only P''taal''s kind words of reassurance help to lessen Teresa''s growing anxiety. The brave warrior will not allow any harm to come to her. As long as it is Elder Glandis'' wish. In that case, she had better stay on Glandis'' good side. - - When Teresa returns to the lab, N-Vorl is once again leaning against the far wall. He follows Dr. Boyd''s movements with his eyes. Setting her plate and coffee mug on the table, Teresa pulls her chair out further and sits down. She pretends not to see N-Vorl at all. Dr. Boyd opens her most current file on the Judases and skims over it. She uses a finger to follow along with the text. Soon, a jumbled mix of words tumbles from her mouth. "This doesn''t make any sense," Dr. Boyd utters to herself. "The Judas wearing Theo''s face...Was pretty old. Possibly even a specimen from the original group. This change must have occurred while it was in molt... Getting larger. But how are they doing it? I''m going to need another sample." With a sigh, Teresa drops her stylus onto the desk and leans back in her chair. N-Vorl''s enormous bulk enters her field of vision. With another exasperated sigh, Teresa turns to him. "What have you uncovered?" N-Vorl inquires. The yautja''s question comes across as accusatory. Teresa rolls her eyes and turns away from him. Taking up her stylus again, she taps on the screen of her tablet. Several images of biological samples fill the computer''s display. Inlaid in each image is a small circular area containing a larger magnification of the same cells. Dr. Boyd pretends not to notice N-Vorl standing only feet away. She also chooses to ignore his question. Not one to be ignored, N-Vorl simply repositions himself and leans on Teresa''s desk. "What have you learned?" N-Vorl reiterates. Teresa finally meets his gaze. Her expression says she is anything but thrilled. "Nothing I can verify...Without gathering more samples," Teresa replies. "We''re going to have to go back out there." N-Vorl shakes his head in a negative fashion. "It is Elder Glandis'' wish that you remain here...In the labs," N-Vorl says. "You are only to leave if he gives you a direct command." "What?" Teresa exclaims in astonishment and disbelief. "Why?" N-Vorl''s face twists into an unfriendly smile. He releases the edge of the table and stands to his full height. He crosses both arms over his chest in a haughty gesture. "I was able to convince our leader that having the only ooman on the ship...Wandering around at her own leisure...Would not be a great idea," N-Vorl says. Teresa''s mouth tightens into a firm line and her breathing accelerates. Who was this yautja to effectively make her a prisoner in her own lab? Teresa slams down the stylus. Another yautja warrior, some distance off, briefly glances in their direction before returning to his guard duties. "What''s the matter, N-Vorl?" Teresa challenges him angrily. "Afraid I''ll do something crazy? Like blow up the ship?!" N-Vorl lowers his upper body so that he is staring straight into Dr. Boyd''s eyes. His brow knits as he catches a hint of something new in Teresa''s usual scent. At the same time, the scientist''s body grows rigid. "Would you blow up the ship?" N-Vorl asks plainly. Teresa leans her upper body closer to N-Vorl as well. She matches his ire without thought for the consequences. "What do you think?" Teresa says. N-Vorl studies Teresa a moment more, before standing erect. The unfriendly smile returns to his face. "I think Elder Glandis is wise to keep an eye on you," N-Vorl says. "As I stated...You will only leave the labs when ordered. We have others who can gather your samples." N-Vorl turns to leave without another word. Teresa angrily glares at his back. What does he mean: ''others''? Not just anyone can gather a useful sample. Teresa''s hope deflates. She glances around her. The lab, which had once brought her so much joy and prestige, has now become her prison. How can fate be so cruel? - - At intervals, while perusing her growing collection of files on the Judas insects, Teresa glances over her shoulder at N-Vorl. Each time she does, the belligerent yautja is staring directly at her. At one point, Teresa shoots him an angry scowl and bunches up her face. Letting the alien hunter know he is as much a pain as he believes her to be. N-Vorl is not fazed. His expression remains blank. However, he does heave a great sigh. "Not so unaffected after all," Teresa mutters to herself. Dr. Boyd turns fully to face her computer. She bites down on her lower lip and stifles a chuckle. "Good. Imprison me in my own lab, will ya? I''ll have to work on him some more. Really get on his nerves. Maybe he''ll turn that stupid overpowered shoulder gun on hi--." Teresa is so enthused in her mental musing that she is unaware of N-Vorl''s approach. A startled gasp escapes her lips as the large hunter reaches out and touches her shoulder. Teresa climbs to her feet and does her best to stare N-Vorl down. "Seriously, I''m going to need you to stop touching me," Teresa exclaims in a strained voice. Near the Judas holding tanks, a wide yautja with a broken tusk turns to see what the commotion is about. He watches N-Vorl and Teresa for a brief moment and then goes back to observing the Judas inside the tank. "If you do not wish me to touch you," N-Vorl says, "Do not carry on as if you have something you wish to hide." Teresa nearly laughs in the big dumb yautja''s face. "Something to hide?" Teresa laughs. "I doubt you could even understand a word of my research. You look like all you know how to do is kill, kill, and kill some more. What, with all those fancy weapons and doodads hanging all over your body. Doesn''t take brains to kill." For once, N-Vorl has no comeback, his green eyes flashing with anger. Teresa tilts her head in a haughty manner and offers N-Vorl a slow wink. "Now, if you''ll excuse me? I have to go to the ladies room," Teresa says. "Don''t wait up." Teresa turns to leave, but N-Vorl firmly grips her forearm with a strong hand. Teresa whirls on him and her left hand bunches into a fist. "I told you not to touch me!" Teresa cries. "I have been instructed...By my Elder...To monitor your activities," N-Vorl replies. "Where you go...I go." "No...You don''t," Teresa hisses. "I can see we need to lay down some ground rules. I distinctly remember everyone here agreeing that we would all work as a team. It''s enough that you''ve practically imprisoned me here in the labs. I will not allow you to invade my privacy whenever you wish. So...One...You will stop touching me. Two...You will not enter the shower room while I am in there. Period. And three...You are never to step foot in my quarters! Do you understand? Anything outside of this and I stop cooperating. Good luck finding another...Ooman...To help you with your precious beast seeding project. I''m sure Elder Glandis would be happy to know....It was all because of you." N-Vorl takes a step closer to Dr. Boyd and she tenses. The large yautja looks down at her with a curious expression, his jaw working furiously. At first, Teresa is worried that the enormous yautja will attack her. Her eyes wander to his sharpened tusks. She is surprised when N-Vorl nods and then turns away. "That''s it?" Teresa whispers to herself. She watches N-Vorl as he drops down on the edge of her desk, one leg swinging slightly. In that pose, he reminds her of Richard. Richard was always perching on her desk like that. Mostly, so that he could lean over and touch her chin with a finger. Before kissing her tenderly. Teresa rips herself from her sad memories. She heads for the lounge, and it''s adjoining restroom facilities. The bathroom calls to her more than ever. She needs a good cry. Chapter Twenty-Seven: Scientists?
Sometime Later The automatic doors to the main lab open and a small contingent of as yet unfamiliar yautja warriors enter. The first, is obviously female, her stature much slighter than that of her male counterparts. However, she carries herself in the usual yautja manner: rigid, soldier-like stride; weapon in hand. Dr. Boyd watches the group of aliens approach with an air of unease. So strange that only a few days ago, this vessel was home to over three-hundred humans. Now, aliens roam the ship at their leisure and humans are in short supply. Glandis exits his quarters and meets the yautja female halfway. She extends her hand, with the palm facing upward, and he grips it in his own mottled hand. ¡°Glotis,¡± Elder Glandis says in a familiar tone. ¡°I trust you found your way here without much interference.¡± The yautja named Glotis casually removes her mask and hands it off to a subordinate behind her. A casual observer would immediately recognize the obvious family resemblance between Elder Glandis and his much younger sibling. Even for a species with only minimal variation between individuals, Glandis and Glotis are near spitting images of each other. ¡°Not much at all,¡± Glotis says with pride. ¡°We put down two of the ooman''s creations before we reached the science corridor. We have seen no more since that time.¡± Teresa¡¯s interest is piqued at news that the Judases have begun to encroach on the science wing. She had believed they were avoiding the science wing¡ªbecause it was where they had been hatched and experimented on. The news that they are returning to this area of the ship is interesting to say the least. There must be a reason for their sudden migration. Perhaps, they sense that this is where the enemy¡ªand their food source, is holed up. Teresa walks slowly over to where Elder Glandis and Glotis are conferring. As she does so, she secretly studies the yautja female. Despite her tall stature; there is no denying that Glotis is in fact female. Adorned in similar fashion as her male counterparts, Glotis lacks the bulky leg protectors. Underneath her thinner metal breastplate, and mesh suit, Glotis wears two articles of clothing which closely resemble a halter top and miniskirt. While Glotis is not as muscular as her male companions; her biceps, abdomen, and calves are evenly muscled and toned. Also, the spacing of Glotis¡¯ mesh is much smaller, accentuating the fullness of her bosom. The suit functioning in much the same way as an ooman bra. Teresa marvels at this. While the yautja appear to be descendants of a reptilian race; they must also share a mammalian ancestor as well. The fluorescent green blood is a little puzzling though. Without more study, there is no way to be sure of anything. A ping of jealousy creeps into Dr. Boyd as she observes the casual air with which the female yautja mingles with the males of her species. They seem to readily accept Glotis. No pulling rank. No questioning of experience due to gender differences. No inappropriate gawking. Glotis is truly one with her kind. Glotis notices Dr. Boyd staring and turns to the human scientist. She offers her hand in the same manner that she offered it to Elder Glandis. ¡°You are Dr. Teresa Boyd?" Glotis says in a distinctly feminine voice. Glotis¡¯ voice contains the same odd resonance present in that of the male yautja; but in a softer, sweeter tone. ¡°Yes,¡± Teresa says and takes the offered hand. She stares at the clawed fingers of Glotis hand, observing every detail. Even the skin of Glotis¡¯ hand is softer. The jealousy again. Any human male observing Glotis, save for her face and mottled green-yellow skin, would find her handsome and comely. ¡°You are the ooman responsible for the creatures infesting this ship?¡± Glotis says in a playfully mocking tone. ¡°Not entirely,¡± Teresa responds, fighting back another wave of envy. ¡°The humans who originally created the Judas died many years ago. I simply altered their research and made new creatures. Nature and evolution did the rest.¡± Teresa looks around Glotis to see the strange device held by one of the female yautja¡¯s companions. ¡°Did you manage to snag the heads of the two Judases you killed? Or at least, the scent glands? I want to see what genetic soup these newest bastards are cooking up. And a fresh batch of pheromones. I really need more of those. Please tell me you at least brought back one of their scent glands?¡± Teresa pleads. ¡°We did not!¡± Glotis states calmly. Teresa releases a deep sigh and places a hand on her hip. Glotis seems thoroughly intrigued. She tilts her head, in the way that Teresa has come to expect from all yautja, and her gray eyes narrow. ¡°Why do you wish to have their heads? Will any part not do?¡± Glotis inquires. Teresa considers what little she knows of yautja culture and realizes what Glotis is getting at. ¡°I¡¯m not asking you to scavenge trophies for me. If that''s what you mean?" Teresa explains. ¡°From what I understand, that would be dishonorable. I was hoping you¡¯d brought me the heads in order to analyze the brains and map their genetic evolution. It would also help in the harvesting of certain chemicals. The scent glands are for a spray I¡¯m perfecting which will allow your warriors to disguise their natural scent and stay hidden from the bugs. I don¡¯t really want to attempt a purely synthetic version, because the chances of failure go up significantly. Each individual Judas in a colony has their own special scent markers. Without those markers, your hunters may walk into a trap. Especially, if they manage to disturb a nest. I¡¯d rather avoid any unnecessary casualties.¡± The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Teresa runs a hand over her brow. She considers her next words very carefully. Chancing a peek at N-Vorl, Teresa forges ahead. She appeals especially to Elder Glandis, who is observing her with a keen eye. ¡°Which means¡­I¡¯m gonna have to go out there. At least, this one time. I need the samples, and we need fresh pheromones. I can show your scientists what I''m looking for. What I''ll need from here on out. So¡­This might be the perfect time for a hunt. Since I know you guys¡­Uh¡­Yautja¡­Are into that sort of thing.¡± Glotis turns to Elder Glandis. Her expression goes from one of boredom to one of complete exasperation. ¡°Is that really necessary?! Scent glands? My warriors had no such scent glands. Yet, we defeated these¡ªooman bugs...With no trouble.¡± Glotis says. ¡°Yeahhhh!¡± Teresa says with doubt in her voice. ¡°There¡¯s a huge problem with that?¡± Glotis believes that Dr. Boyd is calling her a liar. She bristles at the assumed accusation. ¡°Do you disbelieve what I tell you?¡± Glotis demands. ¡°No¡­No,¡± Teresa says, holding up a hand. ¡°The problem isn¡¯t you¡­Or your hunters. The problem is the Judases. Why did they let you see them? The Judases should be masters of disguise by now. Especially, now that they can mimic your invisibility cloaking. And why so few in number? I believe they wanted to be seen. There¡¯s something going on in the bigger picture. And it¡¯s best that we find out exactly what it is. We let them control the game¡­And the hunter becomes the hunted. I really need those brains.¡± Glotis fixes Elder Glandis in a stern glare. No words pass between them, but then again, who needs words with a face like a yautja¡¯s? Teresa is sure that Glotis¡¯ fiery look is due to being grossly misinformed as to the Judases¡¯ capabilities. Elder Glandis simply returns his younger sibling¡¯s admonishing stare. Teresa chances a brief interruption. ¡°So¡­What¡¯s in the shiny metal container?¡± Teresa asks. She is once again staring at the oblong metal object held by Glotis¡¯ subordinate. Glotis puts out her hand, palm up, towards the subordinate and he takes several steps forward. The warrior places the strange object on the table. Glotis presses a button on the side of the metal object and the top of the device opens with a release of pressurized air. The lid slowly rises from inside the container and Glotis pulls it out the rest of the way. Attached to the lid, by thin metal threads, are strings of small glasslike beads. Inside each bead floats a tiny embryo. With a gasp, Teresa inches closer, not believing her eyes. ¡°Oh¡­My¡ª!¡± Teresa mutters. She reaches to touch one of the beads. The weight of the bead is so slight that the metal thread sways a little. Teresa instinctively reaches out her other hand to steady the swinging thread of beads. ¡°What are they?¡± Teresa gasps. ¡°Stasis globes,¡± Glotis says, as if that answer should be obvious. ¡°We use them to store the embryos of every hunt beast we¡¯ve encountered throughout the galaxy. And then, some.¡± ¡°No. I mean¡­What are they?¡± Teresa coos¡ªpointing to a small pale organism floating near the center of the closest thread. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen an organism like that before.¡±
¡°And you wouldn¡¯t have,¡± Glotis replies. ¡°These specimens were harvested a great distance away from your planet. Your kind has not yet reached the level of technological advancement needed to explore many of these worlds.¡± ¡°Nice to feel wanted,¡± Teresa mutters. She studies the pale embryo very closely. It resembles a gray-pink worm with tiny legs, a long tail, and a bulbous elongated head. It is definitely not like any creature she''s ever studied. "Ugh. Strange," Teresa says with a shiver. Teresa stands to her full height. Her vision skims over the room full of aliens. Standing in a laboratory teeming with towering yautja isn¡¯t doing very much to soothe her dashed ego. ¡°If we¡¯re going to get that sample¡­We¡¯d better do it soon,¡± Teresa exclaims. ¡°I¡¯d like it if we went out there together, Glotis. You can see first-hand what I was telling you about the Judases¡¯ camouflage. Maybe you can add some insight. Assuming they let your warriors get close a second time.¡± Glotis nods in agreement. She glances at Elder Glandis, who is staring with irritation at the ooman scientist. ¡°I would never turn down the opportunity for a hunt,¡± Glotis says with a smile. P¡¯taal visibly bristles. The tall yautja¡¯s mandibles click twice and then close tight. The loose folds around his mouth grow taunt and his expression resembles that of an angry schoolmarm. Teresa observes this unconscious reaction with the mildest of curiosity. - - Dr. Boyd observes the newly arrived group of yautja with more than moderate interest. These new yautja seem more subdued in their demeanor. Less combative. Almost prim and proper in the way they go about their business. Scientists indeed. Scientists with high-powered spaceguns on their shoulders, knives on their wrists, and murderous extendable spears on their belts. Sure. Just your run of the mill, average, intergalactic scientists. Glotis'' lieutenant--or whatever--is of particular interest. Very tall and wiry, he almost doesn''t fit in. The only other yautja of similar physique is Elder Glandis'' second-in-command. However, what the Second lacks in girth, he makes up in height and muscle--his biceps much larger than should be proportionate for his body size. Lenaa, Dr. Boyd believes the wiry yautja is called, quite simply looks more the part of a scientist than any of his counterparts. Without the fancy accessories, he could don a lab coat and not raise a single eyebrow. Dr. Boyd finishes her visual study of her new alien companions and heads for her quarters to change. The last thing she wants is to gag on her own body odor while stuffed into a combat suit. Since the arrival of the first group of yautja, the temperature in the lab has been kept beyond stifling. As Teresa passes N-Vorl, he reaches out a hand to grip her left forearm. Quickly reconsidering, he hovers his clawed hand near her arm. Her angry words, during their previous argument, must finally be sinking in. Teresa turns to face him with a smug expression. "Did you need something?" Teresa mocks, her eyes narrowing. N-Vorl''s mandibles open and he also narrows his eyes. His left hand flexes as if he wishes to strangle the life from the ooman scientist with his own bare hands. Teresa observes this motion with a racing heart. Will this yautja ever get over his silly mistrust? Teresa takes a daring step toward N-Vorl. "Can you at least pretend...For one teensy second...That you don''t want me dead, N-Vorl?" Teresa boldly comments. "It might make things go a lot smoother around here. I''m not your enemy. Believe me...If I were...You''d know it. And we wouldn''t be having this conversation." N-Vorl''s mouth curls into his usual sneer and he takes a backward step. Crossing his arms over his wide chest, N-Vorl mocks Teresa''s mannerisms. "Try not to get killed while collecting your precious samples, ooman," N-Vorl says. "How will we ever continue the project without you?" Arrogantly swiveling away from Teresa, N-Vorl marches in the opposite direction. He crosses to where P''taal and Glotis are conferring near the mostly empty Judas tanks. Teresa watches him go. While swallowing the lump rising in her throat, and willing the nausea creeping into her body to go away. Chapter Twenty-Eight: A Little Less Ooman
Dr. Boyd shrugs into a combat suit and tests the microphone on the helmet¡¯s headset. The radio in her hand chirps back and she jokingly holds it away from her. With a sly grin, she turns the volume down and offers the radio to Glotis. ¡°Glotis¡­Here, take this,¡± Teresa calls. The yautja scientist gives Dr. Boyd a hard look. When she speaks, her words are tinged with condescension. ¡°We do not need your ooman toys. We have¡ª¡± Glotis begins. Teresa raises her opposite hand and continues to hold the walkie toward Glotis. ¡°I know. I know. You have suit to suit transmission via your helmets¡­Or masks¡­Or whatever you call them. Keep in mind¡­I don¡¯t. Humor me. Please.¡± Teresa holds the radio out until Glotis finally takes it. She sighs with relief. ¡°Thank you,¡± Teresa says with genuine sincerity. ¡°We''ll need to keep in constant communication once we get outside the lab. If anyone... Namely me...Gets separated¡­Which I hope does not happen. They...Or...I...Can still find the group. Just clip it on your tool belt. Better to have them and not need them¡­Than need them and not have them. Or so my mother used to say.¡± Glotis looks for a place to clip her walkie, amongst the array of small implements and elaborate decorations on her belt. Teresa steps closer and holds out her hand. ¡°Here, let me! Please,¡± Dr. Boyd says. Glotis hands the radio back to Teresa, and the doctor finds an empty space on Glotis¡¯ belt which is perfect for the walkie. She looks pointedly at the yautja female''s face and turns the volume knob on the radio. ¡°A little low tech, but these radios work over a large distance,¡± Teresa says with a smile. ¡°Not to mention, they¡¯re also a great distraction tool. Toss it one way and go the other way. Works every time.¡± With an energetic wink, Dr. Boyd pats the yautja scientist on the forearm and heads for the nearest table. She grabs a small device and fastens it to her left wrist. A short burst of shrill beeps emanates from the device as Teresa moves her arm in a semi-circle. ¡°I¡¯ve calibrated the sensitivity on this motion detector to account for the most minute air current fluctuations. I also input the biometric information needed for the detector to pretty much ignore all members of our team. Cuts down on the chance any Judases will be able to sneak up on us. And we won''t keep jumping at our own shadows. Not a guarantee, but as close as I can get.¡± Glotis comes to stand beside Dr. Boyd; she looks at the human with an odd expression. ¡°You almost seem less ooman wearing that armor¡­And that device,¡± Glotis says with her own version of a yautja smile. Teresa cocks her head in amusement and frowns. She blinks rapidly as she considers the meaning behind Glotis'' words. ¡°Uh¡­Thank you,¡± Teresa says. ¡°I guess.¡± ¡°You almost seem like one of us,¡± Glotis further explains. The yautja scientist turns and strolls to where her subordinate is waiting with her leg and elbow guards. ¡°Almost like one of them?¡± Teresa mutters to herself. ¡°Now, there¡¯s a thought.¡± She smiles inwardly and bends to pick up her Orville rifle. As she does so, she catches sight of N-Vorl. The surly yautja is leaning casually against the opposite wall, hurling daggers of vitriol into her back with angry green eyes. More than likely, the intemperate warrior is furious about being left out of the hunt. Even more likely, he is incensed that Teresa has been permitted to go. Nevertheless, it is Elder Glandis¡¯ wish. Teresa suspects N-Vorl has been ordered to stay behind for her benefit. Otherwise, she might not make it back to the laboratory alive. No one ever accused Elder Glandis of being dumb. And if they did, Teresa is certain they never lived to tell the tale. Winking for the second time, Teresa blows N-Vorl a sarcastic kiss. Shouldering her Orville rifle, Teresa joins the rest of the hunting party. She stifles a small laugh as they file out of the main entrance. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. - - Glotis and P¡¯taal are leading the search for new Judas specimens. The two fierce yautja are armed to the teeth; net guns and combisticks at the ready. It has been over an hour since the group left the lab, and not a single sign of a Judas insect. Dr. Boyd walks a couple of meters in front of P¡¯taal. Teresa¡¯s arm is outstretched and she sweeps the motion detector in a slow arc. A shrill beep causes her to jump and she swears under her breath. Why did it have to be so damn loud? Teresa pulls her arm back in close. Her eyes fall on the motion detector and she makes the military sign for ¡°stop.¡± ¡°Wait,¡± she whispers. ¡°There¡¯s something in the corridor ahead. A few somethings. Most aren¡¯t very big, and the signatures are really weak. Probably larval stage Judases¡­Certainly not more than a couple hours old, and a juvenile. A babysitter? Stay close. I¡¯ll scout ahead. With all that bulky armor, you might make too much noise or stir up too many air currents. Just hang tight.¡± Dr. Boyd inches forward, hoisting her Orville rifle onto her shoulder. She glances at her wrist motion detector and is satisfied that whatever is in that hallway is not yet aware of her presence. Once she is close enough to see what the detector is picking up, she wishes she had not. What Teresa misread as a possible juvenile Judas, is actually a decaying yautja warrior. The body of the yautja hangs upside down, stuck to the wall and ceiling by multiple layers of Judas secretions. The warrior¡¯s mouth hangs ajar and his eyes have been hollowed out. Several oothecaes are attached to his decaying abdomen. Most of the egg cases have already split and at least three small Judases feed hungrily on the warrior¡¯s putrid flesh. The body writhes with the motion of the feeding insects. Dr. Boyd is grateful for her helmet''s face mask and the ship¡¯s air scrubbers. Without either of these, Teresa is certain the smell would be unbearable. Teresa creeps closer, hoping to nab one of the smaller larvae. She speaks softly though the mic in her helmet. ¡°Glotis, tell your group to go full cloak. We¡¯ve discovered a nest. I won¡¯t say ¡®the nest,¡¯ because I suspect there are probably a lot more. The queen has to be somewhere nearby. I doubt she would have left this many young all alone. Especially this close to enemy territory. The one I killed the other day was not far from here. And it didn¡¯t belong to this particular colony¡­Hive¡­Whatever. These Judases are different. Almost translucent. We should prepare for anything. They¡¯ve got one of your kin here. Cocooned up. He¡¯s dead. They¡¯re¡­Feeding on him.¡± Dr. Boyd steps even closer to the cocooned yautja. She raises a gloved hand and reaches for one of the larval Judases; her other hand steadying the rifle. A noise behind the dead yautja causes Teresa¡¯s head to snap upward. Her eyes grow impossibly wide. ¡°What the hell?¡± Teresa gasps. Behind the yautja, what Dr. Boyd had assumed was part of the wall, rears upward. The enormous Judas queen screeches and whirls on Teresa. The dead yautja, on the insect¡¯s gargantuan back, swings with its rapid movements. Teresa is knocked to the floor by the whirling queen Judases¡¯ wing case. The Judas larva drop to the metal floor and begin scrambling away. Teresa is still sprawled on her back, but she lifts the Orville rifle¡ªonly half expecting to hit her target. The rifle blast slams into the Judas queen, shattering one of her forelegs. Glotis appears behind Teresa and puts an arm underneath each of the human scientist¡¯s armpits¡ªattempting to pull the woman out of harm¡¯s way. ¡°No, Glotis¡ª,¡± Teresa yells. But it is too late. The Judas queen aims all of her fury at the new target. She lashes out with her remaining foreleg, knocking Glotis aside. Another Judas, which was hidden among detritus, floats into view. Its body is just as translucent as the larva Dr. Boyd witnessed. The translucent insect hovers over Glotis, who is struggling to right herself after slamming into the opposite wall. That is when P¡¯taal rematerializes. He aims his net gun at the offending Judas and fires. The Judas sentinel is slammed into the wall above Glotis, the mesh netting shrinking and cutting into the bug¡¯s only slightly hardened carapace. The Judas struggles in the net, its coloration going from translucent to black to the usual roachy brown.
As much as Dr. Boyd would like to marvel at the sentinel¡¯s chameleon-like abilities, she has her own problems to deal with. The Judas queen, now under attack by the remaining yautja team, bucks and thrashes. The queen¡¯s wings begin to vibrate and her color shimmers. As Teresa watches, the queen seems to fade and disappear along various points of her body. Where yautja weapons meet insectile flesh, thick fluid oozes from the wounds. The queen screeches again and there is a scurrying sound of countless legs. ¡°Oh¡­Hell!¡± Teresa says aloud. A second later, there is the sickeningly wet sound of hardened Judas foreleg meeting yautja flesh. Glotis¡¯ lieutenant is lifted into the air and green blood sprays across the corridor. Where yautja blood stains the carapace of the murderous bug, the creature remains visible. Teresa aims her weapon in that direction and fires. She tries her best to miss the yautja, but knows he is already dead. The insect holding Glotis¡¯ lieutenant is blown in two. The two halves go in different directions¡ªthe front half of the vile insect taking the lieutenant¡¯s body with it. The mutated roach¡¯s fluids go everywhere, making the floor hazardously slippery. Dr. Boyd steps forward, aiming at another spot of suspected movement. She is afraid to fire before knowing whether the movement is friend or foe. ¡°Decloak! Tell them to uncloak, Glotis! I can¡¯t risk hitting one of your team!¡± Teresa yells. The yautja obey the order without it having to be relayed. Teresa breathes a sigh of relief when she realizes it was not a yautja she had prepared to cut down. She squeezes the trigger of her rifle. Roach carapace and a foreleg spiral into the air a few feet ahead of her. The Judas had approached that close so quickly. Across the corridor, P¡¯taal is helping Glotis to her feet. The yautja female is bleeding badly from a gash on the left side of her head. Teresa only gives them a passing glance before returning her gaze to the battle in front of her. Before they were seven¡ªagainst how many Judases? Now, they are only six. Teresa pushes the thought of defeat from her mind. With an angry bellow, she opens fire on the Judas queen. Chapter Twenty-Nine: Another Kind of Love
P¡¯taal enters the access code to open the main laboratory doors. The automatic doors slide open and he stumbles inside¡ªweighted down by the injured Glotis and his own fresh injuries. Dr. Boyd and three yautja follow P¡¯taal into the lab, dragging the bodies of the fallen Judas queen and Glotis¡¯ lieutenant. Elder Glandis moves swiftly to intercept the team, his mandibles gnashing and his robe billowing out behind him. He goes to his sister¡¯s side, worry etched on his aged face. Placing a clawed hand under Glotis¡¯ chin, Glandis raises her head so that he can look into her pained eyes. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Glandis,¡± Glotis says, hoping to wipe the look of worry from his face. P¡¯taal shifts his weight and adjusts his muscular arm under Glotis¡¯ armpit. In response, Glotis reaches her arm further around P¡¯taal¡¯s shoulder. ¡°We completed our mission,¡± Glotis says. ¡°We killed the Judas queen and brought back the desired samples. Many of our enemy died this day. However...We lost Lenaa.¡± Elder Glandis'' eyes soften and he opens his mouth to reply. Teresa swiftly interrupts. ¡°We killed ¡®a¡¯ queen,¡± Teresa corrects Glotis patiently. ¡°That was just one nest. Another queen will simply rise to take her place. Like I said¡­There will be more. A lot more. That Judas¡­¡± Teresa yanks the tarp from the head of the Judas queen, showcasing her royal awfulness. Elder Glandis chitters aggressively at the sight of the grotesque abomination of a yautja face protruding from the crest of the queen. Teresa pulls down on the two halves of the abhorrent structure, positioning it where it would be if the creature were alive and putting it to use. The two halves fit over the queen''s head almost perfectly, with very little space between them. A mask to put all other masks nearly to shame. ¡°Do you recognize this yautja, Elder Glandis?¡± Teresa inquires. Elder Glandis¡¯ agitation increases and he utters a deep growl. P¡¯taal answers for the elder¡ªwho is beside himself with anger. ¡°Jhitnoth,¡± P¡¯taal says. ¡°He was killed the day we first entered this ooman vessel. We did not believe there was anything but oomans aboard. He was caught unawares. I killed the insect which murdered him with my own combistick. But an even larger insect carried his body away. Jhitnoth and I fought together many times. He was like a son to Elder Glandis. And like a brother to me.¡± "That''s explains how they were able to adapt so quickly," Teresa mutters softly, her eyes widening. "They had a template to study. There could be numerous specimens using this same face. Or one close enough to it. Are you sure he was dead when they took him, P''taal?" P''taal''s mouth goes slack and his expression changes to one of grief. His round eyes shift away from Dr. Boyd and meet those of Glotis. "No. I could not be sure of anything," P''taal says. "The Judas carried him away too swiftly. Jhitnoth''s body was gone before any warrior knew what was happening. He was unmoving. I believed him to be dead." Teresa stares at P¡¯taal; with sorrow in her heart for the grieving yautja. She looks from him to Glotis. Glotis'' eyes have not left P''taal''s face. Teresa offers P''taal a kind smile. ¡°I think you should tend to her wounds,¡± Teresa says. ¡°She may have a concussion. Maybe even some cracked ribs. I would suggest you use the med pod, but it¡¯s not calibrated for yautja physiology. I should probably get to work on that, if we¡¯re going to have more skirmishes like this in the future.¡± ¡°What of Lenaa¡¯s body?¡± Glotis protests. The yautja scientist glances at the tarp in which Lenaa¡¯s corpse is wrapped. Her face is twisted from pain on multiple levels. ¡°We will see that he is taken care of in the usual way,¡± Elder Glandis reassures his grieving sister. ¡°His body will be returned to the ship once the new guards arrive. Go. Take care of your wounds.¡± Glotis again meets P¡¯taal¡¯s gaze, and he helps her to walk in the direction of Laboratory Room Seven. Laboratory Room Seven is outfitted with a small emergency medical station. The med pod is situated towards the back wall, with a couple of examination tables in the center of the room. Glotis and P¡¯taal disappear inside the room. Elder Glandis glowers at Teresa before turning on his heels and storming away. The other yautja nearby do the same. This newest revelation, and the death of Glotis¡¯ lieutenant, has soured an already fragile working relationship between the yautja and the ooman ship¡¯s sole remaining occupant. In the far corner, N-Vorl''s face twists into a cruel sneer. Teresa turns to find him staring directly at her. The yautja warrior''s mandibles are spread wide apart, his eyes narrowed menacingly. Dr. Boyd swallows hard and strides without confidence to her usual workstation. She unclips a small bag attached to her hip and opens it. Removing the three scent glands inside, Teresa opens the top drawer of her desk and retrieves a leather case. Inside the case is a complete travel surgical kit with scalpel. Teresa''s right hand shakes as she studies the scent glands laid out in front of her. She exhales deeply and unzips the leather surgical case. The next moment, N-Vorl voice whispers softly in her ear. "Is this the price you are willing to pay for your samples, ooman? The blood of my kin?" N-Vorl hisses. Teresa whirls in her seat to face the offensive yautja. Her brow knits, but she remains silent. To speak would be to risk breaking down. Lenaa''s death had been swift and terrible. However, watching Glotis pretend not to be affected, had been even worse. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Teresa turns back around without acknowledging N-Vorl''s challenge. After a moment, N-Vorl grunts and moves away. Dr. Boyd exhales deeply and glances at the table in front of her. Replacing the scent glands in the bag, Teresa pushes the entire bag across the desktop. She instead powers up her tablet computer and scrolls through the numerous apps on the screen. - - Once inside Laboratory Room Seven, P¡¯taal leads Glotis to one of the metal examination tables. He gently removes his arm from underneath Glotis¡¯ armpit and allows her to sit down. P¡¯taal reaches to a spot above Glotis¡¯ knee and removes a metal case similar to the one he used while patching up his own prior injury. Glotis places a clawed hand over his, halting his hand in midair. With her other hand, Glotis strokes P¡¯taal¡¯s face. ¡°I am pleased that we can have this time together,¡± Glotis says. ¡°When I heard you were joining Glandis on this mission¡­I called in every favor to be here. I did not expect it to be like this. Working with an ooman. Fighting creatures they created without the benefit of forethought. But our efforts have not all been in vain. Wounds can always heal. I am glad we are together. Even if, only for a short time.¡± Cupping Glotis¡¯ face within his clawed hands, P¡¯taal lowers his face level to that of his lover¡¯s. He nuzzles Glotis¡¯ cheek with his own, his mandibles clicking slowly and methodically. Glotis closes both eyes and does the same. At one point, their mandibles become intertwined. Dr. Boyd secretly watches the strange ritual, from her remote app, for more than fifteen minutes. Learning more about yautja courtship and physiology than she could have ever hoped to learn in another month or two--working alongside the stoic warriors. N-Vorl has joined the other yautja. No doubt receiving a play-by-play of the hunt. Teresa quietly sticks out her tongue at the enormous yautja''s back. Mentally, she throws him a two-fingered salute. Going back to her studies, she only glances up from time to time. - - Brandishing a handheld black light, Dr. Boyd enters Lab Seven. Manually switching off the main lights, she uses the black light to illuminate any traces of bodily fluids left behind by the evasive yautja lovers. She finds what she is looking for and smiles wistfully. Teresa removes a sterile swabbing kit from her lab coat and goes over the spot with several clean swabs. She places each used swab in a sterile containment sleeve and returns them to the kit. She has just shoved the kit into her pocket, and switched off the black light, when the automatic doors slide open. N-Vorl stands in the doorway, backlit by the light from the main lab. A slightly amused expression dances across his countenance. Teresa presses her hand against the kit in her pocket and wonders if it is possible that N-Vorl knows what she has been up to? Does he know about P¡¯taal and Glotis? Is he covering for them? Teresa runs a hand through her hair and climbs to her feet from her kneeling position. She lets out an uncomfortable cough and moves toward the door. ¡°Why were you kneeling on the floor, Dr. Boyd? In the dark?¡± N-Vorl asks dryly. ¡°Were you in contemplation?¡± Teresa is grateful that N-Vorl has given her such an easy out. She attempts to push past him in the doorway. ¡°Yes. Contemplation,¡± she lies. ¡°Oomans call it praying.¡± N-Vorl presses his hand against the door frame, stopping Teresa¡¯s progress. Dr. Boyd is suddenly reminded of the savage clotheslining she received the day Harold was killed. It must surely have been N-Vorl. ¡°There¡¯s a message on the computer you will want to see,¡± N-Vorl says more dryly than before. ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯ll like it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not liking a lot of things these days,¡± Dr. Boyd says. She keeps her eyes on N-Vorl¡¯s face. Her flesh grows hot and a strange sensation travels the entirety of her body. ¡°Let¡¯s go check out that message, shall we?¡± Teresa states in a businesslike tone. N-Vorl removes his arm, but he studies Dr. Boyd very closely. Teresa stands perfectly still, unable to collect her thoughts due to the sudden pounding in her head.
¡°Dr. Boyd?¡± N-Vorl says. The fragility of the ooman female is starting to become more and more of a problem. First, the doctor''s excessive breaks for the bitter drink she calls coffee. Then, her bouts of sleepiness and more than normal need to eliminate liquid waste. And now, she suddenly has need of contemplation and stares dumbly at walls. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Teresa says. ¡°I¡¯m just not too thrilled about the idea of more bad news.¡± ¡°Everything about this mission is bad news, Dr. Boyd. You should get used to it,¡± N-Vorl exclaims and turns away. He strolls out of the door¡ªleaving Teresa feeling somewhat insulted. She glares at his wide back with unbridled malevolence. It''s a strange thing--realizing the universe is chock-full of assholes. - - "Mr. Tomlinson! Mr. Tomlinson! A couple of questions, please?" Maurice Tomlinson swivels his head to view the young woman reporter gesturing for his attention. He nods and points in her direction. Flashes fill the room as other reporters squeeze in, hoping to get their questions in as well. "Mr. Tomlinson...Is it true you''ve had no word from the California? Is this a usual occurrence?" Natalie Savage, reporter for the United Tribune, hollers over the crowd. "Yes," Tomlinson sheepishly admits. "Reports are correct. The vessel has not responded to hails, and we are unable to establish her whereabouts. This is highly irregular." More shouts, pushing, and shoving as reporters wave their microphones above each other''s heads. Natalie signals that she is not quite finished. A man beside Natalie shoots her an impatient glare, but she shrugs it off. "Do you have another question, Ms. Savage?" Tomlinson says more patiently than he feels. "Just a couple more questions, Mr. Tomlinson," Natalie says. "Is there any truth to the rumors that the California was performing secret experiments...Namely the revival of the failed New York City Judas Project?" Tomlinson''s face turns beet-red and he glances at his business partner, Russell Tan. Tan, a wide burly Chinese man with exceptionally deep dimples--excellent for charming unsuspecting ladies--steps smoothly to the microphone. "You are quite mistaken, Ms. Savage," Tan says with perfect enunciation. His tone paternal and borderline condescending. "As co-owner of Dayshadow Industries...I can assure you. That is all that they are. Rumors. The California is in fact conducting research. Celstus Prime may one day become a thriving new colony for families. The California was sent to determine if her moons will make habitable colonies as well." Natalie''s question has opened a floodgate. Tan and Tomlinson spend the next thirty minutes of their press conference fielding questions about secret projects and humanoid supersoldiers. Natalie watches it all unfold with a dark smile. - - Natalie exits the bathroom, a pink towel wrapped around her head. The seasoned executive from before lies prone on the bed, blankets pulled to just under his navel. Climbing on the bed, Natalie lies down beside her partner. On the hotel craft''s large vidscreen, that evening''s press conference plays as big as life. "Those were some very pointed questions," the exec says, kissing Natalie behind her ear. "Just doing my job," Natalie replies. She nestles closer to her partner. "The people deserve to know." "MmmmHmmm!" the executive utters with a sly grin. Chapter Thirty: Like A Prey Animal
Lab Room Twelve "Elder, please...I don''t foresee this being a problem!" Teresa exclaims. She points to the desktop screen in front of her. N-Vorl''s brow creases at the elevated tone of Dr. Boyd''s voice. His stomach lurches with the hope of finally being given the order to eliminate this bothersome ooman female. "We''re talking maybe a few systems glitching out," Teresa continues. "We may even lose power in certain damaged corridors. Nothing really major. And nothing, we can''t handle. I don''t think. Back on Earth, we get slammed by solar flares on a regular basis. This isn''t much different. The California''s systems can handle it. Just look at how well the ship held up under your bombardment. We''ll be fine!" Elder Glandis, as well as every other yautja in the room, continues to glare at Dr. Boyd. The robed alien may have changed his clothes, but he has not lost his mind. He repeats his prior stance so that there is no mistake. "Theorizing is your job, Doctor. But theories are not fact. I am Clan Elder. I will not sacrifice my warriors needlessly," Glandis roars, his large mandibles flaring outward. "If this...Geothermic disturbance...Is as widespread as you say, I would prefer to take my warriors where they will better serve our needs. You have one-hundred of your ooman hours to prepare your data. At which time, I will take my hunters and we will return to our ship. I will leave three hunters here to watch over you and maintain the security of our project. We will return once this...Disturbance...Has passed." Without another word, Elder Glandis pivots and strolls out of the lab. Teresa watches Elder Glandis stalk away with a heavy heart. Who will he leave behind? Surely, not N-Vorl? As if bidden, N-Vorl steps beside Dr. Boyd. Teresa lowers her gaze and refuses to look at him. She pretends to rearrange items on her desk, as if searching for something. Swallowing hard, Teresa pushes down the growing knot in her stomach. N-Vorl''s voice at her ear causes her to grow tense. "It will be very interesting to see who is chosen to stay behind," N-Vorl says, as if reading Dr. Boyd''s mind. "I do hope I am given the honor." Teresa turns her head to glare at N-Vorl. The irritating warrior''s face is almost one wide grin, his eyes fixed on Dr. Boyd''s. Dr. Boyd considers lashing out with a pithy remark, but decides against it. Instead, Teresa averts her gaze and pivots away from N-Vorl. She quickly grabs up her materials and heads for the main lab. - - Glotis joins N-Vorl and Teresa in the main lab. Teresa swivels in her chair and meets the female yautja¡¯s gaze. Maintaining eye contact is difficult¡ªconsidering what she witnessed only hours before. And what she has done with that information since. ¡°Did you sleep well?¡± Teresa asks. Immediately Dr. Boyd is hit with a stab of pain and sadness. Remembering her air-headed lab assistant, Dr. Boyd nearly bursts into tears. No one truly sleeps well in space. Glotis nods and gingerly touches the injury on her head. ¡°I slept the sleep of one who is not well,¡± Glotis says. ¡°It was enough to rejuvenate me.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good. Cause we¡¯ve got our work cut out for us. From what I can tell, after looking over the data, this planet undergoes a massive geothermal upheaval every seventeen months or so. The storms created can last for days¡­Even weeks. And it looks like we¡¯re in for one helluva storm. Can¡¯t rule out large scale seismic activity either. Quite a few mountains on this planet. We might just learn which of them are hiding the major fireworks,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°Elder Glandis has proposed that you yautja return to the mothership and hang out in high orbit until the disturbance passes. Haha. Wow. We picked one helluva planet to set down on.¡± Teresa releases a deep sigh, while glancing around the room at friend and foe alike. ¡°We all know, I can¡¯t join you. So I will be staying behind. To continue our experiments. We can expect severe conditions to be over our location in about one-hundred and twenty hours¡ªor the equivalent of just over five Earth days. Elder Glandis has given us just one-hundred hours to perform our initial tests and have all our data compiled. Not a whole lot of time, but...I think we can do it. Ha! Fact is...We don''t have any other choice. Let''s get started.¡± N-Vorl¡¯s eyes narrow and he considers what the future may bring. He glances to his left; at the sound of heavy footfalls. P''taal joins them in the main lab, a concerned expression on his face. N-Vorl nods at P''taal--whose mandibles click in agitation. Time has been shortened for all of them. - - Teresa holds a stasis globe between four fingers of her right hand. She stares at the pale wormlike embryo inside. Turning to Glotis, she calls to her fellow scientist. ¡°Glotis? What can you tell me about this specimen?¡± Dr. Boyd asks. ¡°The specimen in stasis globe twenty-nine? The creature with the elongated head?¡± Glotis tries to remain noncommittal, but Teresa can sense the ripple of excitement in the female yautja¡¯s entire being. ¡°The Keinde Amedha?¡± Glotis says. ¡°It is our most fearsome prey beast! No yautja is truly blooded until they have taken on one of these serpents and won.¡± Teresa leans back in her chair and swivels in Glotis¡¯ direction. ¡°By blooded, you mean ¡®bloodied¡¯? Like severely injured?¡± Teresa presses. Stolen novel; please report. ¡°No.¡± Glotis says. ¡°I mean to win. To spill the burning lifeblood of the black serpent. To take its life.¡± ¡°Oh. Okay,¡± Teresa says with new understanding. ¡°So¡­In order to be blooded a warrior must kill one of these black serpents? Okay. So what does the final stage of this serpent look like? This organism isn''t black. Is this some kind of larval stage?¡± ¡°Yes. That is the larval stage¡­As you call it,¡± Glotis says with a coy smile. ¡°The creature that emerges from a host is very dissimilar to what you see in that stasis globe. It is a formidable creature. Tall, black, four-legged, clawed, with a second mouth¡­Within the first¡­Which can punch through metal and pulverize bone. Their blood is caustic and burns like fire when it touches any surface. That is what it means to be blooded. Every mark you see on the faces of the yautja here, was made with the blood of a Keinde Amedha. Even mine.¡± Glotis points to an almost indistinguishable marking beside her right eye. A slash with two dots on either side of it. ¡°Did you not notice many of us here wear the same marking?¡± Glotis teases. ¡°Only the unblooded do not yet carry the mark. It is the mark of our clan. Each serpent kill brings our clan honor.¡± ¡°No. I hadn¡¯t noticed,¡± Teresa admits. ¡°It¡¯s all I can do just to keep your names straight.¡± Teresa continues to study the tiny encased embryo. She turns the stasis globe around several times, in order to view every angle of the strange alien baby. "Do we incorporate the serpent DNA into our next experiment?¡± Teresa queries. Glotis shakes her head and arches an eyebrow. ¡°I do not believe that would be a wise decision at this time,¡± Glotis states candidly. ¡°We should wait until the storms and any adverse seismic activity has ceased. When conditions are better. This is not a specimen to be trifled with.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± Dr. Boyd says. She replaces the stasis globe in its compartment. Rummaging through her desk drawer, Teresa removes a set of ear pods and shoves one into each ear. She wirelessly syncs the pods to her tablet and activates a playlist of classical music to repeat in the background. Glotis punches several commands into her yautja medical device and attempts communication with Dr. Boyd. She tries more than once before physically approaching the human scientist. Examining Teresa''s ears, Glotis frowns discontentedly. She is not accustomed to being ignored. She taps Dr. Boyd lightly on her left shoulder. Teresa realizes she is being spoken to and removes one of her ear pods. "I apologize, Glotis," Teresa says. "I was absorbed in the music. Were you speaking to me?" "Yes," Glotis says. "I need the most recent data you have on the Judases'' resonance defense. Glandis has requested it." "Okay...Yeah," Teresa replies. "Give me a sec." Teresa opens the correct file and downloads it to Bess Trainor''s old medical tablet. She slides the auxiliary tablet over to Glotis and then goes back to what she is doing. "It''s all there," Teresa says. She is surprised when Glotis only stands there staring at her. Gray eyes blinking, mouthparts pulled together in a disappointed grimace. "What''s the matter? It''s all there. I promise," Teresa reassures her yautja counterpart. "Are you not going to brief the elder yourself?" Glotis asks. The yautja scientist tilts her head in typical comical yautja fashion, and Dr. Boyd grins. "He asked you for the report, Glotis!" Teresa exclaims. "You give it to him! I might just make him angry. Again." Teresa leans back in her chair and closes her eyes. The thin smile is still on her lips. When she opens her eyes, Glotis is still standing resolutely by her chair. "You know...You shouldn''t keep Elder Glandis waiting," Teresa says teasingly. "I...Cannot make sense of your writings," Glotis says reluctantly. "It would be better if you explained your conclusions to Glandis yourself." Across the room, P''taal appears in the doorway to Lab Room Seven. There is a brief moment of eye contact between Glotis and the more subdued yautja warrior. Teresa''s face almost becomes one big grin. So, she is to run interference while the lovebirds commingle? Well, well. Removing her second ear pod, Teresa takes the auxiliary tablet from Glotis and lays it on the table. She pretends to be annoyed. "Oh. Okay. If you insist," Teresa exclaims dramatically. She climbs to her feet, medical tablet in hand. Stepping beside Glotis, she whispers hoarsely. "Just this one more time," Dr. Boyd says with a smile. "I''m tired of having to nursemaid you about the commonality of ooman chicken scratch. I''m a doctor...A scientist. We love chicken scratch. Next time, I expect you to know what I am thinking before I do. Then, I won''t have to scribble notes at all." Glotis manages a wide yautja smile. This is already become a running joke between the two female scientists. Teresa scribbling barely legible notes, and Glotis indignantly refusing to deal with them. Teresa offers Glotis an energetic wink. - - N-Vorl stands like a sentry beside the door to Room Twelve. Dr. Boyd works feverishly at her desktop, one leg folded underneath her in the chair. N-Vorl watches her through half-lidded eyes. The only thing preventing Teresa from hearing the agitated gnashing of his mandibles, is the mask on his face. Teresa is aware that N-Vorl is there. She simply no longer cares. The only places he does not follow her are the bathroom, the showers, and her makeshift quarters. However, with the yautjas¡¯ ability to remain concealed from view, Dr. Boyd is unsure if even that is true. So, she chooses to ignore him. N-Vorl swivels at the sound of approaching feet. P¡¯taal strides to where his battle brother has positioned himself. Glancing at Dr. Boyd, P¡¯taal speaks in a low voice.
¡°Why do you wear your mask, N-Vorl? Are you joining us for the hunt?¡± P¡¯taal asks. P''taal prepares to put on his own mask. N-Vorl answers without turning his head, crossing both arms over his muscular chest. ¡°I was not aware there was to be another hunt,¡± N-Vorl says. The warrior¡¯s impatience, at being assigned watch-duty over the ooman female, grows with each hunt he is forced to sit out. While his brothers in arms are continually compiling trophies; N-Vorl has been saddled with the responsibility of watching the female conduct her very boring experiments, eat, nap, listen to vile music, and other uninteresting tasks. Not what he had agreed to when he joined his uncle''s contingent. He had hoped for battle against glorious opponents. Instead, he''d been paired with Dr. Teresa Boyd. Probably the most irritating ooman in existence. "More data is needed on the ooman insects," P''taal says, eyeing N-Vorl suspiciously. "We can only obtain such data by engaging them in battle. You must know that?" N-Vorl issues a low growl and narrows his eyes. P''taal''s statement, though innocuous, cuts deeper than an arm blade. Glorious battle, and here he must stay. Guarding the ooman female. ¡°The ooman female¡­I do not trust her," N-Vorl states. "How can we trust anything this ooman says? Even now, in a state of assumed calm, her heat signature fluctuates unpredictably. I suspect she is attempting to hide subterfuge.¡± P¡¯taal puts on his mask, shaking his head in the process. ¡°Perhaps, the ooman is bothered by your constant presence,¡± P¡¯taal reasons. ¡°You stalk her as a Keinde Amedha would stalk its prey. It is not necessary to act as a second shadow. She has shown us no hostility since our first meeting.¡± ¡°I am only doing my duty,¡± N-Vorl exclaims. Moreso, to convince himself than to convince the skeptical P¡¯taal. P''taal shakes his head a second time and turns to leave. However, N-Vorl is not finished. ¡°And what of you, P¡¯taal?¡± N-Vorl challenges his warrior kin. ¡°Will you do your duty¡­When the time comes? Can you let go of the past?¡± With a deep sigh, P¡¯taal only spares N-Vorl a single brief glance. ¡°I am a true yautja,¡± P¡¯taal retorts. ¡°There can never be any question.¡± Marching confidently from the room, P¡¯taal joins Elder Glandis¡¯ contingent in the main lab. The double doors to the main lab have barely drawn open, before the fearsome warriors stroll out into the hallway. N-Vorl observes Dr. Boyd from behind the relative security of his mask. Whatever she is planning, he will know it soon enough. As if sensing N-Vorl''s darker thoughts, Teresa turns her head to peer in his direction. She taps her stylus against her bottom lip, watching him with slitted eyes. Without a word, Teresa returns her attention to her computer screen. N-Vorl continues to scrutinize the ooman scientist, one hand flexing at his side. Chapter Thirty-One: Truth The yautja hunting party has still not returned over two hours later. Dr. Boyd injects a larval stage Judas with a syringe of golden fluid. The syringe contains spinal fluid extracted from one of the obscure alien embryos contained in the stasis globes. Dr. Boyd mentally crosses her fingers that the larval specimen will survive testing. It is one of four larva hatched from the newest batch of captive Judases. She holds the Judas firmly in one heavy-duty gloved hand; while extracting the needle from the base of the roaches¡¯ head. N-Vorl watches Dr. Boyd work from the other side of the lab, muscled arms crossed over his wide chest. Teresa glances over at N-Vorl and readjusts her position to allow for some discretion. The heat within the labs has been gradually building up, and she is starting to feel lightheaded. Borderline, sick to her stomach. Placing the empty syringe on the table, Dr. Boyd firmly holds the Judas specimen down with a gloved hand. She uses her other hand to open the first two buttons of her blouse. Whatever planet the yautja¡¯s hail from; she has no great desire to go there. Teresa is overwhelmed by a wave of nausea. She inhales sharply as N-Vorl approaches her workstation. The bad-tempered yautja stands within a few feet of Dr. Boyd; observing her. Rage, fueled by heat exhaustion and irritation, courses through Teresa. Thoroughly fed up, she forgets her decision to simply ignore the hulking sod. Dr. Boyd returns the specimen she was experimenting on to its glass isolation cube, and snaps her neck in N-Vorl¡¯s direction. The queasiness in the pit of her stomach doesn¡¯t make matters any easier. ¡°What have I done now, N-Vorl?!¡± She utters testily. ¡°Splice a gene incorrectly? Forget to salute? Incorrectly conjugate a yautjian verb? Oh¡­I know. Do I simply exist? Is that not allowed in your universe?¡± N-Vorl closes the distance between them, and drops to one knee so that he is level with Teresa¡¯s chair. He glowers at her angrily. He is under the misguided belief that her previous action was an attempt to hide something of importance. His temper flares and he struggles to hold back his fury. ¡°Your lack of respect for our ways and customs is problematic at best,¡± N-Vorl says, his jaw clenching in anger. ¡°Were it any elder but Glandis¡­You¡¯d already be dead.¡± Teresa swallows hard and struggles to maintain eye contact with N-vorl. She hadn¡¯t really been expecting an answer. Just the usual frowning and scowling¡ªmaybe with a side of angry grunting. ¡°Elder Glandis still believes you are valuable to our work on this planet,¡± N-Vorl continues. ¡°That is the only reason he does not reprimand you as he would one of our own. He wishes for you to continue¡­Cooperating¡­Of your own free will. He believes results will be better that way. Few have lived as long as Elder Glandis. He is a true yautja. But I believe he has made a tremendous error in trusting you with our hallowed secrets.¡± Teresa¡¯s jaw tightens and she moves to gather up her things. N-Vorl¡¯s arm shoots out and he presses a palm against her tablet computer¡ªeffectively securing it to the table. ¡°It appears that you do not like the truth, ooman!¡± N-Vorl says with a cruel sneer. Teresa wrenches her tablet free and inspects it for damage. She presses the tablet to her chest while pushing her chair back. Tears threaten to tumble from Dr. Boyd¡¯s eyes; and she desperately seeks to get away from N-Vorl before they do. She is too late. A large tear squeezes out of one corner of her eye and slides down her cheek. The yautja warrior¡¯s face twitches almost imperceptibly and he tilts his head to the side.
¡°You know what your problem is, N-Vorl?!¡± Teresa whispers angrily. ¡°You need a serious attitude adjustment. Possibly even some anger management. It might really improve your character a little! Now, excuse me¡­I have work to do! Elder Glandis will be expecting an updated report when he returns.¡± Climbing to her feet, Dr. Boyd pretends to be heading for her private lab. However, a quick detour and she is at Laboratory Three¡ªher new quarters. Crossing the room quickly, she rushes toward the adjoining employee washroom. She doesn¡¯t quite make it to the toilet before hurling up all of the food contained in her stomach. Some of the vile mess getting on the front of her clothes. Teresa presses a hand against the metal floor, to steady herself, and kneels before the toilet. She continues to purge the contents of her stomach. Eventually, only bile comes up. The bitter taste, and horrid odor, causes her to gag over and over. Once she is done retching, she reaches up a shaking hand and sends the stinking globular filth out into space. Stolen novel; please report. - - N-Vorl searches Lab Room Twelve for Dr. Boyd. Her angry outburst had given him reason to pause; and she¡¯d slipped away. N-Vorl storms from Teresa¡¯s private lab, and nearly runs into Glotis as she is exiting the lounge. ¡°The ooman¡­.Have you seen her?!¡± N-Vorl inquires of his female counterpart. Glotis¡¯ breath smells of raw ooman meats and N-Vorl''s stomach gurgles with sudden hunger. The doctor had called them steaks. Yes, it has been a while since he has eaten. Glotis simply shrugs and gives N-Vorl a sly look. ¡°No,¡± Glotis says. ¡°But I am not her keeper! Perhaps, you should do a better job?!¡± Glotis smiles her usual yautja version of a smile and heads off toward the main lab. N-Vorl is now more incensed than ever. More laughter at his expense. - - N-Vorl heads down the corridor adjoining the lounge to Room Three¡ªDr. Boyd¡¯s quarters. He reaches to activate his cloak. However, the sound of loud retching attracts his attention. Turning to go in the opposite direction, N-Vorl heads for the source. He finds Teresa bent over a toilet in the large shared bathroom. She finishes retching and uses a hand to flush away the resultant mess. Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she removes her soiled blouse and wipes at her mouth. The doctor¡¯s tank top is completely soaked with sweat, and her color is flushed. She props herself up by using the wall. N-Vorl watches her from the doorway¡ªhis cloak now activated. Taking a deep shaky breath, Dr. Boyd attempts to calm her breathing and ease the nausea hammering at her head and stomach. She slowly makes her way to the shower before stopping yet again. N-Vorl makes up his mind to leave, realizing the ooman intends to clean herself. A stirring inside of him keeps N-Vorl rooted in place. Teresa turns on the water and steps into the shower fully clothed. She wipes at her face, the warm spray washing away the tears streaming down her cheeks. Leaning against the wall, she moans deeply. ¡°Oh, Richard. Richard, I''m so sorry! We should have sheltered in place like you ordered. Bess might not be dead. And you would have found me. At least, then¡­Even if the specimens did get out¡­We could have been together. You came looking for me. And now, you''re gone. Oh god! It¡¯s all my fault!¡± Shaking involuntarily, Dr. Boyd begins to shed her clothes. N-Vorl continues to watch out of an acute interest. The ooman has referred to the dead ooman male named Richard. The ooman they''d found at the entrance to the labs. She and that particular ooman must have been especially close. The doctor has cried tears for him many times¡ªeven risking possible harm to cover his mutilated body. However, it was a different male ooman that he had cut down with his plasmacaster. The male Dr. Boyd had ushered quickly from the ship. They, too, had seemed very close. The ooman male struggling feebly to protect her, even with his gaping shoulder wound. Did ooman females have many mates? Or is this doctor of a different caste? Similar to the castes found in the hives of the deadly black serpents? N-Vorl studies Teresa very carefully, finding characteristics which are indeed fitting of both fertility and a likelihood of carrying many healthy childlings. For all of her faults, this ooman is unlike any he has come across. Certainly, her skin and hair texture is much different. Her seeming lack of fear, and constant willingness to challenge him, has created a chasm in his thinking. She is brave for a female. A lone female at that. He stays close by until Teresa signals she is done by turning off the water. Finally turning to leave, N-Vorl glances over his shoulder one last time. Dr. Boyd uses a stretchy circular band to coil her wet hair up at the top of her head. She is still unsteady on her feet, quickly freeing up one of her hands to support herself on the wall. A new wave of sobs hits Teresa, and she slides to the floor of the shower. She loses consciousness on the way down, falling heavily on her side. Only an outstretched arm prevents her head from striking the floor, cushioning the impact. She lies unmoving except for a small twitch of her left hand. N-Vorl considers going to her¡ªaiding her, but remembers her vitriolic reaction to his being anywhere near the showers. How would she react to him carrying her naked from the washroom? He indecisively looks from the shower to the doorway leading to the nearby corridor. He settles for at least making sure she is alive. Crossing to the shower, N-Vorl kneels beside the fallen scientist. He presses a hand against her chest and feels the steady heartbeat within. Using his mask, he scans her for obvious injuries. She otherwise appears to be fine. The likely conclusion is that the ooman has fainted due to extreme emotional strain. N-Vorl carefully repositions Dr. Boyd in the shower, resting her back against the wall. In this way, she won¡¯t aspirate on her own vomit should she become ill again. He touches Dr. Boyd¡¯s hair, carefully removing the circular band she placed in it. Teresa¡¯s hair falls over one side of her face and N-Vorl gently removes it. He marvels at the texture, which is soft and composed of many thin strands. He tenderly touches the flesh of her face and neck, observing the softness there as well. He stops short of her collarbone. Returning his hand to Teresa''s hair, he gently smooths it down and then exits the shower room. - - Later Dr. Boyd returns to the main lab. She is once again dressed in a lab coat, button-up blouse¡ªalbeit light blue this time, and a pair of khakis. Her color is no longer flushed and she appears healthier in complexion. Teresa drops down into her chair without a word. If she has any knowledge of N-Vorl¡¯s presence in the shower room, she gives no indication.
N-Vorl takes in all of this with a flutter in his chest. He moves as if to go to her, but can think of no logical reason to do so. He remains rooted in his place beside the holding tanks. The hunting party has since returned. Each yautja bearing the grotesque heads, forearms, or wingcases of their kills. N-Vorl¡¯s heart aches for the hunt, but there is also a new ache in his chest. An ache, he would have never seen coming in all of his years. Thirty-Two: More Than Ones Duty
Teresa dutifully analyzes samples from the current batch of Judases, as well as tissue samples collected during the most recent yautja hunting expedition. She programs her computer to run a cross-referencing simulation of desired characteristics for the foreign alien embryos selected for eventual hybridization. Her desktop screen flashes an alert and she reads it without much enthusiasm. The geothermic disturbance will arrive at the ship¡¯s location in approximately one-hundred and ten hours. Teresa yawns and rakes a hand through her thick black hair. Climbing to her feet, she gathers up her tablet and places it under one arm. Not a single yautja acknowledges Dr. Boyd as she heads for her new quarters. Glotis and a young unblooded are discussing something of import near the entrance to Lab Room Seven, their clawed hands waving or flexing. P''taal has returned to his shared quarters for rest. Even N-Vorl seems distracted, watching the Judases attempt to break out of their holding tanks. Two of N-Vorl''s armed companions stand watching as well. Morbid chitin imitations of human faces are now laced within their mesh suits--amongst skulls of varying size. Teresa enters her private quarters and immediately sits down in front of the computer. Instead of going to sleep, Teresa further analyzes the yautja DNA sample she obtained in Lab Room Seven. It is Dr. Boyd¡¯s intention to have her work completed before the geostorm arrives. If the California loses power, she may also lose monumental data. Better to be safe than sorry. Executing a program simulation of various gene sequences and permutations, Teresa watches the results unfold before her eyes. ¡°Oh wow¡­,¡± she whispers through steepled hands. A scrambling noise above her head makes Dr. Boyd look upward. The noise repeats and Teresa smiles inwardly. ¡°Ha. We still have rats,¡± Teresa says to herself. ¡°That¡¯s a relief. What¡¯s a sinking ship without at least a few of them? I''m sure our Judas pals will take good care of that problem. Eventually." A thumbnail of Security Chief Crews is situated in the top right corner of the tablet screen. Teresa kisses the tips of three fingers and presses them against the glass; above where Richard¡¯s lips are in the photograph. She whispers his name into the darkness and then removes her fingers. A moment later, she commences her previous activities¡ªsilent tears running down her face. - -
After nearly an hour of dedicated study, Dr. Boyd grows tired. Putting her tablet in sleep mode, she decides to get some sleep as well. Taking off her lab coat and blouse, Teresa climbs onto the futon wearing only her tank top and khakis. Yautja physiology requires a temperature which is borderline unbearable. Wearing a lot less clothes is a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat. Especially, if she plans to get any rest at all. Not even bothering to pull back the blankets, Teresa falls asleep atop them. She isn¡¯t sleep long before her eyes shoot open. Jumping up, Teresa races to the table where her tablet lies. She wakes the computer and scrolls down several lists until she finds her own medical file. She scrolls further, and taps on an icon of a double-helix. Feeding the information she finds there into the previous genetic simulation, she sets the program to run even in sleep mode. Dr. Boyd crosses the room and plops facedown onto the futon. One arm hangs over the bed, but all she cares about is the smell of clean blankets under her nose. Slumber finally overtakes her. In a corner of the room, a clawed hand flexes. Visible only as a brief distortion of the surrounding dim light. - - Simultaneously¡­ Several Judas insects scurry along a corridor littered with organic material and detritus. Human remains, torn clothing, paper, and other items are stuck to almost every inch of the surrounding area. The juvenile Judases hurry about their operations with no care for their own safety¡ªthinking only to facilitate the needs of their queen. At the center of a large organic structure, the queen Judas silently watches over her subjects¡ªher obedient children. She stretches forth a clawed foreleg and snatches up a human torso. Opening her enormous mandibles, the queen Judas tears free a huge chunk of decaying flesh. Pieces of bone and putrid decaying meat fall to the floor as she pulls the gross meal into her maul. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. A young Judas, about the size of a pit-bull, scrambles over the queen¡¯s extended foreleg and she draws the limb inward. She continues to use the other leg to grip her horrid dinner. The smaller Judas eventually scrambles off to join its siblings. Taking another large chunk of meat into her mouthparts, the queen chitters with satisfaction. Communications Hub The computer screen flashes a warning: Geothermic disturbance will be over this location in one-hundred and eight hours¡­Four minutes...And twenty-three seconds. A large Judas foreleg smashes the computer screen, destroying it, and eliminating the flashing lights of the warning message. -
- Teresa turns over in her sleep, a deep moan issuing from her lips. Perspiration coats her flesh and she is in the grips of a horrific nightmare. A nightmare where Judases not only wear the faces of her friends and colleagues; but also tear them to pieces right before her eyes. First, Richard; then, Bess. Then, there is Theodore, and security guard Nettles. All of the other scientists find their way into Teresa¡¯s nightmare; screaming their hellish screams of death. Lastly, there is Harold¡ªan extremely large Judas tearing him limb for limb. Harold¡¯s mutilated head and torso is hurtled into the air by a savage insectile forearm. Teresa jerks in her sleep as Harold¡¯s body wetly slams into a wall beside her. In her nightmare, Teresa raises her flamethrower and torches the entire legion of demonic insects. Her terrified screams reverberate in the halls of the abandoned ship. She does not stop until every Judas is alight, flames licking all around her. The smell of smoke, carapace, and boiling insect fluids causes her to choke and she drops to her knees. Through the flames, she glimpses Harold¡¯s torn body. His once handsome features consumed by flames from a creation of his own design. Teresa reaches out to touch Harold''s burning stump of a left arm. A whimpering cry escapes her lips. ¡°Harold¡­,¡± she cries. Back in the real world, Teresa does in fact whimper in her sleep. Her right hand grips the edge of the futon and she twitches violently. Perspiration beads and rolls down her flesh. The warmth of her environment giving realism to her growing nightmare. ¡°Harold¡­,¡± she mutters. A clawed hand, still cloaked in invisibility, slowly reaches out to touch her forehead. Like a mother checking a child for fever, N-Vorl places the back of his hand against Teresa¡¯s flesh. Her twitching subsides, and she grows quiet. The scientist''s breathing remains rapid, but she no longer groans. N-Vorl withdraws his hand and strolls to the other side of the room. He squats down in his usual spot, both hands steepled. The enormous yautja closes his eyes, resting himself. He will stay until the nightmares have passed. - - N-Vorl enters Lab Room Eight and nods in deference to his leader. Elder Glandis is not impressed. He eyes the much younger yautja with an unamused expression. "You wanted to see me, Elder?" N-Vorl questions. Elder Glandis'' second-in-command stands completely at attention. His combistick sways on his muscular hips and one clawed hand flexes behind his back. He is ready to eject his arm blade should the need arise. Elder Glandis waves N-Vorl closer. The old yaujta seems even older as he removes his robe and plants it on the back of the plush office chair. "What news do you have of the ooman female?" Glandis queries with a wry smile. "Does she intend to betray us?" N-Vorl shifts his eyes over to the only other yautja, besides Elder Glandis, in the room. N-Vorl''s gaze hardens as he returns his attention to his leader. "As much as it pains me to admit this...," N-Vorl hesitates. "I have found no evidence that she plans to do so." Elder Glandis laughs raucously and his commander relaxes a little. But only a little. Elder Glandis drops down heavily into the much too small office chair. The chair''s bulky armrests have already been removed to allow for the elder''s wide girth. However, the massive yautja still has trouble remaining seated on the chair. He covers his discomfort by leaning towards N-Vorl conspiratorially. "You are pained...That she has not tried to betray us?" Elder Glandis chuckles mirthlessly. "Why? So that you may kill her? You should try a little patience, N-Vorl. Everything comes in due time." N-Vorl''s mandibles open as if he means to speak, but he bites back his words. Now is not the time to incite his leader. "Yes, Elder," N-Vorl replies instead. "Your father was also impatient, N-Vorl!" Glandis continues. "Now, he tends the chruksh farms...And I am Elder. Do not let that be your legacy, youngblood!" Glandis turns away and N-Vorl takes this as his cue to leave. He nods at Elder Glandis, and his commander, respectively. Standing as rod-straight as he entered the cramped ooman lab, N-Vorl swiftly marches out of it. He is surprised to find Teresa already seated at her desk in the main lab. Her eyes are downcast and she is not even aware as he walks into the room. N-Vorl''s eyes travel around the entire space. Glotis acknowledges N-Vorl''s presence with a head nod. N-Vorl returns Glotis'' head nod, but immediately shifts his gaze to Dr. Boyd. His eyes narrow until they are nearly shut, and a smile tugs at the corners of his tusked mouth. Chapter Thirty-Three: Flushed
Five Hours Later Dr. Boyd is seated at an enormous rectangular table completely covered with lab equipment. Her ''Devil''s Workshop,'' as Teresa''s colleagues affectionately called it. Beakers of various chemicals, a large centrifuge, a souped-up Meker burner, a rack of test tubes, and most importantly a T.S. 444 microscope are strategically placed on the table''s surface. Dr. Boyd is not at all averse to modern technology; relying on it for a vast majority of her in-depth research and experimentation. Nevertheless, she has learned through years of study that sometimes simpler is better. Especially when performing experiments on the fly. Many manufacturers get so hung up on bells and whistles that they skimp on functionality. Oftentimes, she has found herself eschewing various pieces of expensive equipment--for their much more low-tech cousins. However, microscopes are one piece of equipment she refuses to compromise on. The T.S. 444 is the best machine money can buy. One of the few things Dayshadow Industries managed to get right. Even Weyland Industries has struggled to make anything remotely comparable. Teresa leans forward to study a new slide, circulating the magnifier to more than 1000x magnification. The image which greets her is as crisp as any photograph taken by National Geographic. Dr. Boyd smiles wistfully and whispers to no one in particular. ¡°Ahh. There you are,¡± she says. Her concentration is broken by the sound of heavy footsteps to her right. Teresa glances up to see N-Vorl approaching. The large yautja stops beside her chair and removes his mask. He fixes Dr. Boyd with a stern glare, while speaking in the usual grating voice of a yautja attempting English. ¡°How are the¡­Experiments coming along?¡± N-Vorl demands. Dr. Boyd turns back to her slides and hovers her eye over the electronic viewer. She pretends to only casually acknowledge the big yautja¡¯s presence. In truth, his closeness causes her heart to race and she is overcome by a feeling she can¡¯t explain. Similar to lightheadedness, without the vertigo. Her head throbs with what may be the beginning of another migraine. Teresa vaguely remembers a similar sensation while working beside N-Vorl at the communications console, as well as in the lounge, and in her office--and pretty much everywhere they have ever been in close proximity. This particular yautja is doing a number on her psyche. ¡°As well as can be expected,¡± Teresa says. "Right now...I''m analyzing brain cells from Specimen Six. The one with the backward appendages. Found her dead in the corner of her tank a couple of hours ago. She had a partial oothecae attached to her rear end. There was nothing inside. The spinal fluid infusions aren''t working. Most of the test subjects either die or are completely sterile. But, it''s still early in the testing phase. We''ll figure it out. I¡¯m more worried about that projected disturbance. The more I think about it...The more worried I get. If we lose power¡ª. Let¡¯s just say, I don¡¯t even want to think about that. The holding tanks will run on auxillary power for a few hours. After that, we¡¯d better have a plan for containing every specimen we¡¯ve got in the lab. Possibly by diverting all surplus energy to the tanks. It¡¯s either that or euthanize them all. The chambers have a pipe underneath the floor which will allow us to filter in gas¡ªif we find we have no better option. If the Judases manage to escape while your ship is in orbit...You won''t have much to be returning for. Although, you may find the new batch extremely exhilarating to hunt. Perhaps, I probably shouldn''t mention that. In the interest of self-preservation.¡± Dr. Boyd removes her eye from the microscope¡¯s viewer and finds N-Vorl studying a test tube from the rack. She reaches to grab the test tube from his prying hands, but recoils as she is slammed with a massive jolt of pain on one side of her head. A weak cry escapes her lips. ¡°Oh hell,¡± Teresa mutters and presses a hand against her temple. N-Vorl carefully replaces the test tube in the rack and studies her. His eyes narrow questioningly. Teresa''s teeth are tightly clenched and she grimaces as if in severe pain. ¡°What is wrong?¡± N-Vorl asks. Teresa continues to clutch at her temple, while gripping the table and attempting to stand. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she says. ¡°I feel¡ª.¡± Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. No sooner is Teresa on her feet, then she is falling to the floor. Luckily, the sturdy lab chair is still in position. Dr. Boyd grabs the chair as she is falling, steadying herself. For his part, N-Vorl grips her under the armpit and keeps her from sprawling. Teresa peers up into his face and it appears to her as a bright blur. Breathing becomes almost a luxury as Teresa¡¯s chest heaves up and down. Her lungs feel as if they are on fire and her heartbeat is greatly accelerated. Teresa searches her mind for the one and only time she has ever felt anything remotely close to what she is feeling now. Richard. Their drunken kiss¡ªon the pier overlooking the river leading into the heart of New Vegas. The trip back to his place. Cuddled deep in his warm embrace as they half-watched a vid on the holoscreen. Coming to the realization that neither of them wished it to go any further. Not yet. Not like that. Nevertheless, she will never forget the feeling¡ªthe rush¡ªof simply getting to first base. So what the hell is this?
Heat radiates through Teresa like a flash-fever. She clutches the collar of her blouse and runs three fingers around the opening there, attempting to let in some air. Could this be a result of her fainting spell in the shower? Did she hit her head? Or, maybe from nearly having her ribcage crushed by an enormous bad-tempered yautja? If so, why hadn¡¯t any injuries shown up on the scans she¡¯d performed on the lab¡¯s med pod? Was this some sort of cross-species contamination or infection? A thought occurs to her. The headaches, and odd sensations, manifest whenever N-Vorl approaches her or even stands nearby. Every time N-Vorl is near her, Teresa¡¯s heart races and skips a weird beat. Has he done something to her? By mistake¡ªor even intentionally? A chemical or biological weapon? Another of his famous aerosol sprays? Teresa hopes this isn¡¯t the early onset of ptsd or an anxiety disorder. Maybe it¡¯s just the heat? Dr. Boyd barely has time to register any of this before her vision nearly blacks out. She is vaguely aware of N-Vorl lowering her into the crook of his arm. To her surprise, and unable to respond, Teresa feels N-Vorl¡¯s hand move to the buttons on her blouse. He undoes the first button and Teresa¡¯s breathing comes a little easier. Easier, being just a hair. She continues to gasp for air. N-Vorl stares down at the ooman doctor with genuine concern. He glances around, but none of his companions have taken notice of the situation. The two nearest him, outside the lab room, are guarding the Judas specimens. Their backs are to him. From their position, they wouldn''t be able to see much anyway. N-Vorl suspects that the ooman female is having an especially strong reaction to male yautja body chemistry. Such is the case on many worlds. No one has yet figured out what sets off these sorts of episodes. Or which females, of any given species, are more prone to experience them. What is known is that a small portion of yautja males secrete large amounts of pheromones which can also act as an aphrodisiac. N-Vorl has never experienced this for himself. At least, he doesn¡¯t think so. Not until today. And certainly not with an ooman female. The very thought sends a tremor down N-Vorl''s spine. Not of fear, but of indecision. Teresa reaches up a hand and grips N-Vorl¡¯s forearm. Her eyes remain closed and her mouth is agape. Reaching into the large belt around his waist, N-vorl brushes aside a skull hanging there and yanks free a small aerosol spray. He tilts Teresa¡¯s head back and administers two sprays into her nostrils. Almost immediately, Teresa¡¯s erratic breathing begins to slow. Her chest no longer heaves and her body grows more relaxed. As N-vorl watches, the color in Teresa¡¯s cheeks recedes and her usual color returns. A moment later, Teresa¡¯s eyes flutter open. Her brown eyes lock on N-Vorl¡¯s greenish-brown ones. A wry smile touches her lips as she recognizes the look of concern on N-Vorl¡¯s usually stern face. ¡°I take it¡­You¡¯ve done this before,¡± Teresa says coyly. N-Vorl shakes his head before answering her in a reserved tone. ¡°No,¡± he responds. Dr. Boyd sits up and her shoulder brushes against N-Vorl¡¯s pectoral muscles. She turns to look directly into his face. Something she doesn''t understand passes between them. It happens on a cellular level, as if every cell in her body is screaming for the same thing in a voice only her mind can hear. She reaches and calmly takes the spray from N-Vorl¡¯s hand. He does not stop her. Studying the canister, and then returning her gaze to N-Vorl¡¯s face, Teresa raises an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m going to need to study this,¡± she says. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s something in this spray I can use for my research.¡±
¡°If that is your wish,¡± N-Vorl says in a level tone. ¡°Elder Glandis has ordered that we are to give you any assistance you might need. We are equals.¡± Teresa¡¯s gaze lingers on N-Vorl¡¯s face a bit longer than she would have liked or expected. His sudden change in demeanor is both comforting and disconcerting. No matter. It is better that they all get along. For the sake of the project. Teresa places a hand on the floor to support herself before standing. She is surprised when N-Vorl shakes his head. Climbing heavily to his feet, the large yautja offers her his hand. Teresa takes the offered hand and rises from the floor with N-Vorl''s aid. "Thanks," Dr. Boyd says. N-Vorl simply nods and strolls away. He takes up a post at the far end of the room, arms crossed over his muscular chest. Teresa drops back down into her chair; to continue her work which was interrupted. When Dr. Boyd glances back over one shoulder, N-Vorl is staring directly at her, an amused expression on his face. Dr. Boyd returns her attention to the specimen slides under the magnifier. The pounding in her chest returns, and she struggles to quell it. She decides to shift gears. Time to figure out what was in that aerosol he administered. Chapter Thirty-Four: Falling Into Place
Human Sphere Space Center X7- Alpha Centauri Sector Promenade Brigadier General Ilyian Rodrigo stands at parade rest in front of a large viewport. A colonial marine jogs to within a meter of the general and snaps off a crisp salute. He offers General Rodrigo a tablet computer. ¡°New orders, General!¡± the marine says in a matter-of-fact tone. General Rodrigo takes the tablet and holds it in a large hand. His expression tells the marine in front of him all he needs to know. The information contained within is for Rodrigo¡¯s eyes only. The soldier performs another crisp salute, which Rodrigo casually returns, and then the marine is gone. General Rodrigo makes his way to his quarters. There is a wry smile on the aging general''s face. New orders are usually good news. - - Typing in his passcode and pressing his index finger against the verification pad, Rodrigo waits for the approval message to appear before palming open the door and stepping into his quarters. He crosses his ornately furnished room and plops down on a plush chair. Placing the tablet computer on the glass dining table, Rodrigo enters his passcode once again. After verifying his identity, and answering several security questions, the message General Rodrigo seeks becomes visible on the screen. TO: Brigadier General Ilyian P. Rodrigo FROM: Patrick Ang, Ryan McDermott, Henry Ellis (Weyland, Yutani, and Associates); General Erik Weyland SUBJECT: Objective Amended MESSAGE: Buyout of Dayshadow Industries successful. No viable threat. Vessel U.S.S. California still missing. No communication in over 240 hours. Command fears vessel lost. Mission is to locate the California and ascertain the cause of her distress and/or demise. Weyland/Yutani liaison will rendezvous at your coordinates in eleven hours.
Secure all specimens and data upon arrival. Be advised: Mission perimeters are classified. Delete this message once you have read the information therein. Rodrigo closes the message, logs out, and puts the tablet to sleep. He crosses the room and stares out of the circular viewport which serves as his window. Stars shimmer like jewels, in the distance, and General Rodrigo puts on a tired smile. Finally, some action. - - Lab Room Three Dr. Boyd looks fixedly at her medical tablet. Having crept off to her private quarters, Teresa pours over the mountain of data she has managed to compile so far. Sweat runs down her face and she wipes at it with a finger. She is focusing so hard that she doesn''t notice when the double doors slide open behind her. The doors slide quietly shut. Dr. Boyd''s mouth moves wordlessly as she reads the information on the tablet''s screen. She reaches across the table and grips her stylus in a sweaty hand. Wiping her hand on her lab coat, she finally becomes fed up with the heat. Removing her lab coat, she places it on the back of her chair. "Oh...My goodness," Teresa says. Dr. Boyd squints at the tablet in front of her, not wanting to believe her eyes. She presses two fingers against the tablet''s front and spreads them apart. The image on the screen enlarges. Dr. Boyd leans over the table, her eyes widening to match her amazement. "This is...Really...Well...Weird," she mutters to herself. "Weird, but interesting." Biting her lower lip, Teresa scrolls through different images using her right index finger. Her eyes take on a childlike brilliance and a smile explodes onto her face. "This is wonderful!" Teresa gushes. "What kind of planetary conditions can produce a cellular mutation like this? But, they''re so...human. Kind of." So intense is Dr. Boyd''s excitement that she is completely unaware when N-Vorl closes to within feet of her. The looming yautja stares over Dr. Boyd''s shoulder at the tablet lying on the table. He is careful to stand in such a way that even a hint of his silhouette will not be reflected on the shiny surface of her tablet. His brow creases as he recognizes what is on the doctor''s screen. Teresa runs a hand through her long, black hair and giggles like a drunken college girl. She blinks as if clearing cobwebs from her mind, and inputs several special commands into the computer. A simulation program starts up. Teresa sighs and rests both elbows on the edge of the desk. She props up her head between her hands and closes her eyes. N-Vorl lifts one foot as if to approach. However, Teresa abruptly raises her head and laughs softly. Ripping the ponytail holder from her hair, Teresa climbs from her chair. N-Vorl slowly backs off and then halts. He is grateful for the room''s dim lighting. Teresa turns from her chair and heads for the futon. Throwing herself on the bed facedown, Teresa squeals into her pillow. Careful not to be too loud. She flips over onto her back and crosses one leg over the other. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. "This is what it''s all about," Teresa says. "I wish I had been given this project all along. With more information...I might be able to narrow down some likely planets of origin. Hmmm. A good place to start would be chemical compounds in their blood. They breathe oxygen just fine. So it has to be a planet with conditions comparable to Earth. I''d have to account for gravity, temperature variances, atmospheric conditions, and composition of the planet. Things which might effect their evolution or embryonic development. They''re definitely not from Mars. Anymore than I''m from Venus." Rubbing a hand over her belly, Teresa smiles inwardly. Another soft laugh escapes and she covers her mouth to suppress the foolish giddiness rising in her chest. "Do they lay eggs?" Dr. Boyd wonders aloud. "Like a chameleon or an iguana? Or say, a dragon?" She sits up on the futon and places both hands at the crown of her head. "Or, does the mammalian side carry more genetic weight?" Teresa continues to muse. "Live birth? Hmmm! Probably more likely. That would have to be one enormous egg. This isn''t some cartoon with impossible dimensions. Glotis'' hips aren''t much wider than mine. And how would a female pass such a large egg? Their survival rates would be something like zilch. Mmmm. Survival rates. Exactly how many of these yautja are there? Millions? A few millions? Billions spread throughout the galaxy...Or the universe?" Teresa bites her lip a second time and then releases a loud chuckle. Unbuttoning her blouse, she childishly throws it on the floor. She tosses her head forward, and shakes out her hair; aiding the sweat trapped in her scalp to dry faster. Running both hands through her hair, she stares absently across the room. "And what''s with the secrecy?" Teresa asks aloud. "Glotis is Glandis'' sister...For crying out loud! I''m sure she can get any yautja she wants. What''s so special about P''taal? He seems pretty ordinary to me. For a yautja. Kind of genteel. Cute even. But not exactly Prince Charming. And why...Do they have to sneak around to be together? What are they hiding? Why is Glotis willing to risk everything for this one yautja? Assuming she is taking a big risk. Strange." It seems that with each subsequent externalized question, Teresa has removed another article of clothing. Until she sits on the futon in only her underwear. Leaning over the side of the futon, she rips loose a snack cake taped underneath. Old habits die hard. She''ll put in a few extra situps later. Maybe. Dr. Boyd continues to verbalize her thoughts as she slowly munches on the chocolate dessert. Leaning back, with one arm resting behind her, Teresa closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. The air in the room is no longer stifling and her moist skin has begun to dry. N-Vorl takes in everything. Every word, every gesture, every breath. While Dr. Boyd''s near nakedness is no longer new to him, the feeling creeping into his chest is. A feeling strangely like lust. For an ooman? Using sheer force of will, N-Vorl manages to keep his composure and his position in the center of the floor. His fingers flex as he remembers the soft feel of her skin and hair. He knows the doctor''s routine very well by now. She will be asleep soon. Only then, will he leave. Sure enough, as soon as the last of the dessert cake is devoured, Teresa balls up the wrapper and leans over the edge of the futon to throw it in her tiny trashcan. She lets out another childish giggle and sighs heavily. "This is going to be sooo great!" Teresa coos. "The Judases have nothing on these yautja. Not really. If they ever get their heads out of their asses, and actually listen to me. We can beat these bugs. But then again...What beats a yautja? Guess, we''ll find out. Checkmate..." The last few words of Teresa''s speech are spoken in a drowsy slur. She stretches noisily and then lies back on the futon. Adjusting her body, she seeks maximum comfort. Comfort she won''t necessarily find. Her eyes slowly close, and eventually her head drops to one side. N-Vorl moves first to Dr. Boyd''s computer, which is still accessible on the table. After a few moments, he crosses to the other side of the room, where Teresa lies upon the futon. For what is easily the fifth time, he removes a piece of hair from in front of her slumbering face. Teresa only stirs a little, her chest steadily rising and falling. N-Vorl regards the sleeping ooman with a blank expression. Caressing her cheek, he is unable to keep a smile from building on his rugged yautja face. She is strangely beautiful. For an ooman. - - When Dr. Boyd returns to the main lab, hours later; she is in an eerily cheerful mood. The doctor''s cheeks have a healthy glow and there is a faint smile on her lips. Glancing around the room, she notices that N-Vorl is not in attendance. Teresa''s eyes narrow, and her brow knits. "Maybe he needed to tinkle," she says to herself. Sitting down at her workstation, Dr. Boyd sifts through some of the data and embryo implantation analyses on her desktop computer. Glotis strides purposefully towards Teresa and lowers her yautja medical device to the table. The yautja scientist glances down at the human doctor with a faint smile of her own. "You are looking well, ooman," Glotis says. "Your rest seems to have done you good." "Yes," Teresa answers truthfully. "Remarkably, I had the best sleep I''ve had in weeks. I''m used to just running, running, running. This project is really taking it out of me. And this heat. We...Oomans aren''t made for this excessive heat. But, I''ll live." "That is good news," Glotis replies. "Now, we can focus more energy on our work. You were starting to appear distracted." "Was I?" Teresa exclaims, taken aback. "You were," Glotis insists. "Well, we can''t have that!" Dr. Boyd teases. She offers Glotis a conspiratorial smirk. "We have important work to do." Glotis returns Teresa''s smirk, in yautja fashion, and nods. "I assume those are the most recent results for embryo viability?" Teresa inquires. She studies the information on Glotis'' yautja medical device with keen interest. After a moment, she crosses one leg over the other and turns slightly in her chair. She tilts her head to the side in friendly sarcasm. "Although, I can''t really read those characters and symbols. Mind giving me a translation?" Teresa teases. "I will do you one better," Glotis says, matching Teresa''s sarcasm. "I will make you a device so that I do not need to nursemaid you through every phase of our research...Ooman." "That''s so wonderful of you," Teresa counters with a tiny chuckle. "I''m so grateful we''ve had this opportunity to work together...Yautja!" A laugh escapes Glotis mouth, and P''taal raises his head. The warrior''s eyes soften as he observes the joy in his forbidden lover. It has been a long time since either of them has truly laughed. In the entrance to Lab Room Seven, N-Vorl finally rematerializes. He has been there almost the entire conversation, observing. He''d overstayed his time in the doctor''s quarters. Teresa had nearly caught him leaving while she dressed. Had she turned around only seconds faster, she would have seen the doors sliding shut. N-Vorl''s mind has grown sorely conflicted. What is more important? His loyalty to his elder...To the project? Or the privacy of this ooman female? Every moment he spends with her, be she clothed or unclothed, is becoming extremely problematic. Every time he ventures to touch her, he wants more. He wants to wake her and declare his presence. To hold her against his body. As he did in the lab. Just her scent is enough to excite him. This is not his usual mind. N-Vorl pulls himself together and practically marches from Lab Room Seven. It is his intention to come off as severely inconvenienced. As if searching for the doctor has eaten into his valuable time. He is caught off guard when Dr. Boyd turns in his direction; a bright smile plastered to her face. The towering yautja halts his heavy gait and stares at Teresa from across the room. Dr. Boyd waves him over with that same large smile on her face. Her blunt ooman teeth are on full display, and he studies them with renewed interest. "There you are, N-Vorl!" Teresa says mockingly. "I was wondering where you''d gone. We were discussing great advances in engineering. Why don''t you join us?" Glotis laughs yet again, and Teresa winks energetically in N-Vorl''s direction. N-Vorl simply nods. He appraises Teresa from where he stands. Wishing he had thought to wear his mask. Chapter Thirty-Five: Contemplations Doorstep
76 hours until disturbance/54 hours til Evac Dr. Boyd furiously scribbles notes on her tablet, as she studies the specimen in one of the holding tanks. N-Vorl stands a few feet away, arms crossed over his broad chest¡ªA blank expression on his usually grumpy countenance. Teresa leans forward and observes the Judas more closely. The juvenile, only a few hours old, climbs into a corner of the tank and deposits the oothecae attached to its rear end. Using a mixture of wet secretions from its mouth, and a viscous liquid from its anus, the insect secures the egg case to the wall. After which, it covers the egg sac with detritus from the tank. Teresa uses her stylus to scribble more notes into her tablet notepad. Her original theory, that the Judases are born pregnant, has proven incorrect. But only slightly. Due to the aggressive gene therapy and growth accelerant regime, the original specimens were subjected to; their descendants¡¯ reproductive cycles are much more enhanced. Each Judas female is capable of undergoing advanced parthenogenesis less than three hours after hatching. Going from larva, to pupa--or juvenile, to adult; in less than seven hours. Most never reach full maturity before producing their first offspring. Without the aid of a male, each of the surviving specimens in the lab is dutifully hatching a perfectly viable egg sac. With more surely to come. Dr. Boyd turns to N-Vorl, only to discover he is nowhere in sight. One of the two yautja, who did not accompany Elder Glandis on his latest hunting exercise, is standing guard beside the tanks. The other hunter is either resting or performing duties elsewhere. Teresa decides to seek out N-Vorl herself. - - Dr. Boyd finds N-Vorl inside Laboratory Room Seven. He appears to be studying something on the floor, one knee bent and the other knee flush with the metal. Teresa¡¯s curiosity is piqued and she enters the room. The door closes automatically behind her and Teresa jumps slightly. Suddenly, being alone in this room with the big yautja doesn¡¯t seem like such a good idea. Sure, he has been less hostile recently. But he is still distrustful of her scientific methods. Dr. Boyd cautiously approaches N-Vorl¡ªnot wanting to appear aggressive. She calls his name when she is less than five feet from him. ¡°N-Vorl?¡± Teresa says in a soft whisper. He does not respond. Teresa stops walking and studies the very still yautja. He isn¡¯t looking at something on the floor. He is in a deep state of contemplation. The big yautja¡¯s head is lowered almost level with his chest and his left hand is pressed palm down against the cold metal floor. Teresa realizes her newest mistake and takes a backward step. N-Vorl¡¯s eyes open just as she turns to leave. The rustling of his body armor freezes Dr. Boyd in place. She slowly turns to meet his steely gaze. If the yautja¡¯s eyes were daggers; she¡¯d be dead a thousand times over. The enormous yautja rises to his feet, anger evident in every move of his muscled body. Teresa takes another backward step. ¡°I¡­I had no idea you were,¡± Teresa stammers. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt. I¡¯ll leave.¡± Teresa turns to hurry away¡ªfearing N-Vorl¡¯s wrath at her interference in his meditation. N-Vorl¡¯s loud voice prevents her from taking another step. ¡°I know why you were in here!¡± N-Vorl hisses loudly. ¡°When I found you kneeling on the floor. The same as I have done. I know what you found. And what you intend to do with it. What you have done with it.¡± Teresa turns back to N-Vorl and attempts to gauge his current level of aggression. She closes the distance between them warily. ¡°I¡­N-Vorl. You don¡¯t underst¡ª¡± ¡°I do understand, Dr. Boyd!¡± N-Vorl says heatedly. ¡°You obtained genetic material from my kin under false pretenses. And are planning to use it in your¡­Creations. I have my orders, Dr. Boyd¡ª." N-Vorl''s voice trails off and his brow creases. "If I were to expose you to Elder Glandis...He would have you killed,¡± N-Vorl says with a small degree of hesitation. Dr. Boyd takes another few steps forward. Challenging the belligerent N-Vorl is the last thing she wishes to do. However, for the moment, he is the only thing standing between her and death by combistick or plasmacaster. ¡°Where''s the harm in what I''ve done?¡± Teresa asks. ¡°Is this not in keeping with your elder¡¯s plan? Where¡¯s the fun in hunting a creature that cannot truly hunt you back? Your elders should be happy. I am offering them the chance of a lifetime. Of many lifetimes." N-Vorl turns away from Teresa and stares out of one of the viewports. He sighs heavily. ¡°This was not part of my orders,¡± N-Vorl replies in a gruff voice. ¡°Some things are not done.¡± Teresa boldly walks around N-Vorl, in order to face him. ¡°Answer me one question, N-Vorl,¡± she says in a hoarse whisper. ¡°Why not? Is there some law against it? A decree? Or has it simply never been done before? Are you afraid that one day your creations will eventually outhunt you? Or is it something else?¡± N-Vorl hesitates before answering. Teresa¡¯s challenge puts fire into his veins. Who is this ooman to question many millennia of yautja tradition? Even so, her reasoning does have merit. ¡°There is no decree,¡± he responds. ¡°Okay. Now, we¡¯re getting somewhere,¡± Teresa replies. ¡°I knew none of you would willingly submit a sample for me to study. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I did what I felt was needed to help this project along. I apologize for deceiving you. Elder Glandis wanted a beast that would be worthy of the hunt. I¡¯m trying to give him that. I know that you feel as if your skills are being wasted on this mission. I can see it in your eyes. Babysitting an ooman female is below your rank as a seasoned hunter. You long for a hunt which will demonstrate your true worth as a warrior¡­As a future elder.¡± ¡°You are wrong!¡± N-Vorl growls, his eyes burning with rage--and apprehension. The doctor''s words are much closer to the truth than N-Vorl would care to admit. There might have been a time when such a possibility was not so far-fetched. But no longer. ¡°It¡¯s the truth and you know it!¡± Teresa retorts. ¡°I know what you are.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± N-Vorl replies. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°I analyzed that aerosol you used on me. I even synthesized a batch for myself.¡± Dr. Boyd says. She reaches inside her lab coat pocket and pulls out N-Vorl¡¯s canister. She offers it to him. ¡°You can have this back," Teresa utters in what she hopes is a comforting voice. N-Vorl takes the offered aerosol spray and shoots Teresa a stern glare. ¡°The spray¡­It doesn¡¯t tell me a whole lot about us humans. But it sure tells me a helluva lot about you. Was it derived from your blood, N-Vorl? And by, ¡®your blood¡¯¡­I mean you specifically?¡± Teresa prods. ¡°Yes,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°It protects against¡­Episodes. Like the one you had in the lab. Sometimes, in certain situations¡­Females become feverish in their minds. Their behavior becomes erratic. My kind discovered that blood serums seem to help. Not always. But most of the time. There is no way of knowing which females will be affected until the onset of symptoms. Every male yautja carries a blood serum, if that is their wish. Some males prefer to forego it. It was not my intention to harm you.¡± ¡°But you didn¡¯t harm me!¡± Teresa says, unable to hide her excitement. ¡°Whatever you do¡­You don¡¯t do it consciously. The amount of pheromones you¡¯re pumping out is staggering. If you will forgive the pun. I need an injection just to be around you. I¡¯m thinking this gene for excessive pheromone production is why the Judases were aware of your party¡¯s initial presence. How many of the murdered yautja were in the same room as you when they were killed?¡± Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. N-Vorl growls at the implication that he is responsible for his fellow hunters¡¯ deaths. He grips Teresa¡¯s forearm in a large hand and draws her close. Fear causes Teresa¡¯s heart to almost leap into her throat but she wills it away. ¡°You go too far, ooman!¡± N-Vorl hisses angrily. Teresa stares into his eyes. The sadness she sees reflected there overwhelms the anger he outwardly shows. ¡°You don¡¯t understand¡­¡± she whispers. ¡°I¡¯m not blaming you. I¡¯m trying to understand what happened. That¡¯s what scientists do. We look at every problem from every angle. There may be another explanation, but I needed to ask.¡± N-Vorl releases Dr. Boyd¡¯s arm and takes a step backward. ¡°I was in the same room with all but one of them,¡± N-Vorl says. The admission seems to add years to his appearance. Teresa reaches up and gently touches N-Vorl¡¯s cheek, turning his head so that he is looking at her. The yautja regards her through half-lidded eyes.
¡°I believe you are unique,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°What you have could be a great gift. Don¡¯t you see? Only certain males of your species carry the gene. If my suspicion is correct, Elder Glandis carries it as well. As do the other elders of your kind. It¡¯s what makes you distinctive from other yautja. Its why others are drawn to you. Why they follow the elders seemingly without question. And why so many of the other elders are...Adversarial in nature. You''re aware of each other''s...Gift. It¡¯s an evolutionary tool for creating order out of chaos. However, in this situation, it presents us with another problem. Most of the Judases are female. They would be very sensitive to your pheromones. In this case, that¡¯s a bad thing.¡± ¡°Then, I am a liability,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°No. You are the answer to so many questions,¡± Teresa says. Teresa drops her hand from N-Vorl¡¯s cheek to his right bicep. Her voice takes on a silky tone as she runs her hand down his sinewy arm. ¡°I¡¯ll need an unadulterated sample of your blood," Dr. Boyd says. "With some of your DNA, I can develop a spray that will suppress your pheromones for a short period of time. Say¡­Long enough to complete a decent hunt. And there are so many more applications we can explore. Genes are such wonderful things.¡± N-Vorl seems to consider her offer. His brow creases and he remains silent, many thoughts racing through his mind. He is unprepared for Teresa¡¯s arms encircling his waist. He looks down into her ooman face, a strange mix of emotions clouding his mind. ¡°For instance,¡± Teresa says, her voice soft and almost hypnotic. ¡°We could create the ultimate prey beast. Elder Glandis says he wants monsters. We can give him monsters. Monsters unlike anything you have ever hunted before. A creature with the cunning and stealth of a yautja. But the fragility and blind arrogance of a human. It would have all of your strengths¡ªtempered by our most¡­Ooman weaknesses. Maybe even a little Judas to add another layer of danger. A formidable quarry.¡± Teresa runs a hand up N-Vorl¡¯s back, while keeping her gaze fixed on his greenish eyes. ¡°What could be more worthy of a hunt?¡± Teresa says with a thin smile. N-Vorl is prepared to shove Dr. Boyd away, but she uses both hands to cup his face. Imitating the manner in which she witnessed P¡¯taal woo his intended; Dr. Boyd lowers N-Vorl¡¯s face and brushes his cheek with her own. N-Vorl¡¯s jaw clenches and she can feel his mandibles press against her flesh. After a brief moment of indecision, Teresa separates from N-Vorl and calculatedly kisses his mouth¡ªbeing extra careful to avoid slicing herself on his exposed teeth. The gesture requires a large degree of precision. She releases N-Vorl¡¯s face and rubs her cheek against his a second time. She exhales deeply to further drive her point home. "You all came here to create monsters," Teresa says in a husky whisper. "Well, you came to the right place. Monsters...Is what I do. I was sent by my company to create super-soldiers. I have every intention of doing just that. The only difference...I''ll be doing it for Elder Glandis. Instead of a greedy corporation. But mostly, I''ll be doing it for myself. However, I want something too. I want to carry your childling, N-Vorl." The blood in N-Vorl''s veins turns to ice. Is this ooman crazy? A hybrid being? Such a thing has never been done. Well, maybe not for millennia. A long time, anyway. Nevertheless, the idea does intrigue him. He gazes down at Teresa''s face, studying her¡ªwanting her. "Why do you wish to carry my childling?" N-Vorl inquires. "What purpose could that serve?" "To prove...It can be done," Teresa replies. "I''m a scientist. That''s our main purpose in life. The childling will serve as a control group. A hybrid against which all others must be compared. A testament to our dedication and devotion to the project." N-Vorl is not wholly convinced. There is a look in the doctor''s eye which does not match the words leaving her lips. "Do you have any idea how painful it is to birth a childling at full gestation?" N-Vorl chastises Dr. Boyd. "When a female is ready to release her offspring...Sometimes, her yells can be heard a long distance off." Dr. Boyd rolls her eyes and scrunches up her face. She wraps one of her arms around his waist a second time, pressing her other hand against his chest. "Birth isn''t exactly easy for us oomans either," Teresa retorts. "Women don''t die in childbirth as often as they once did. Thanks to some great advances in our care procedures. I''m not ignorant of the dangers. Even so, I''m not worried. We have a med pod." The ooman scientist wears an expression which tells N-Vorl there is a lot more going on in her head than what she is willing to admit. Her closeness, and her scent, begins to overwhelm him and he makes a final decision. Teresa¡¯s eyes widen as N-Vorl lowers his mouth to her throat. There is a sharp pain as he bites the flesh of her neck. Not enough to draw more than a few drops of blood. Thoughts race through Teresa¡¯s mind and she can¡¯t help but wonder if the vampires of old did not have a kernel of truth to them. If age-old vampire stories did not tell the tale of humans who were maybe just a little bit more. N-Vorl withdraws and his eyes are riveted to Dr. Boyd¡¯s. Teresa realizes she has crossed the threshold into a ritual of sorts. One she will have to see through. Steeling herself, she imitates N-Vorl¡¯s previous action. Her blunt teeth clamp down onto his flesh, but do absolutely no physical damage. N-Vorl draws back and meets her gaze. At this point, Teresa is sure she has done the right thing. N-Vorl lowers his mouth to her throat again. A warm wetness spreads over the area where his teeth pierced her flesh, and Teresa realizes that he is licking the blood found there. Teresa remains completely still until he is done. Drawing away, N-Vorl ejects his wrist blades. Dr. Boyd considers fleeing, believing the enormous warrior has turned murderous. Teresa''s eyes dart in the direction she intends to go, and N-Vorl anticipates her. He uses his unbladed arm to grab her; anchoring Teresa to the spot. Pressing the tips of his wrist blades to the flesh of his throat, N-Vorl draws them downward with only slight pressure. Two small gashes appear. Teresa watches as green blood pools around the two wounds on N-Vorl¡¯s neck. The big yautja nods silently, his eyes fixed on Teresa¡¯s face. She stares at the blood for a moment, her mouth growing dry. Maybe this is going a little too far. Can she see this affair all the way through? Does she dare? Swallowing hard, and bracing herself, Dr. Boyd stands on tiptoe. N-Vorl tilts his head and lowers himself further. Teresa brings her mouth over the seeping wounds on N-Vorl¡¯s neck. The taste of his blood is more metallic than she had expected, with a hint of something bordering on sweet. A wooziness seizes Dr. Boyd and her head starts to swim. ¡°Oh no,¡± she thinks to herself. ¡°Not again.¡± Taking N-Vorl¡¯s blood directly into her system is counteracting the injection she gave herself less than an hour before. After what seems like only a moment, Teresa¡¯s legs grow weak and she goes slightly limp. N-Vorl lifts her face, by placing a hand under her chin. He peers into her eyes. ¡°Do you want me to go on?¡± the warrior says in a husky voice. Teresa continues to stare into N-Vorl¡¯s green eyes. Eyes with flecks of brown. Eyes filled curiously with concern and something close to anxiety. Maybe even fear. Teresa caresses one side of N-Vorl''s face with a shaking hand. She manages a faint whisper. ¡°I would be honored to carry the childling of a future elder,¡± Teresa whispers. "I am not an elder," N-Vorl reiterates in a defeated tone. "That''s what you keep saying," Teresa responds. N-Vorl envelopes Teresa in his muscular arms, and she collapses against his large chest. He gently strokes the hair of her head. ¡°We must hurry,¡± N-Vorl says in a whisper. ¡°Elder Glandis, and his hunting party, will be back soon.¡± Teresa strokes the small of N-Vorl¡¯s back with a solitary hand. Her body shivers at the memory of what is yet to come. Doubt slowly entering the tiniest corner of her mind. ¡°I¡¯m not afraid, N-Vorl,¡± she whispers. ¡°You forget¡­I¡¯ve seen it all before.¡± N-Vorl is not so sure. He lowers his hands to the small of Dr. Boyd¡¯s back, positioning his thumbs so that they rest just above her hips. His eyes narrow, as he stares over her fragile ooman shoulder. He secretly hopes that the plan they have hatched does not prove to be a mistake. Teresa issues another impassioned sigh, and N-Vorl¡¯s mind is made up. He lifts Dr. Boyd into his arms with very little effort. She drapes her arms over his neck, staring into eyes of unearthly green. There is a hint of something new and as yet unexplored in those green orbs. The yautja warrior¡¯s eyes search Teresa¡¯s face, as if memorizing what he sees there.
¡°N-Vorl? What are you thinking?¡± Teresa queries. His silent examination is more than a little troubling. N-Vorl strides across the room. He carefully deposits Teresa in nearly the same spot where P¡¯taal and Glotis performed their forbidden act. With a smile larger than Teresa would have ever believed him capable of, N-Vorl strokes the side of her face with a clawed hand. ¡°Let us create great things together,¡± N-Vorl pronounces, giving utterance to the extent of his mind¡¯s machinations. He runs his hand down the flesh of Teresa¡¯s neck, watching as her color deepens and her breathing accelerates. Using his other hand, N-Vorl tilts her head up and back. He kisses her gently. His mandibles close around Teresa¡¯s cheeks and jaw; bringing her face into closer contact. He is able to taste, in her saliva, the sweetness of the ooman desserts she often sneaks when she believes no one is watching. This ooman female intrigues him, with her attempts at tiny deceptions. Who would care if she samples the food of her kin? Yet, her greatest deceptions, she puts little effort into hiding. N-Vorl drops his hand from Teresa¡¯s neck and uses it to slide up the bottom of her blouse. Teresa¡¯s eyes open and she regards him questioningly. N-Vorl pulls her close so that her head rests against his shoulder. ¡°As I said before¡­We must hurry,¡± N-Vorl insists. He wants so desperately to proceed, but also wishes to give Teresa every opportunity to back out. Should she want one. ¡°I know,¡± Teresa replies. Taking a deep breath, N-Vorl chitters with nervous energy. He tenderly strokes Dr. Boyd¡¯s hair. No more time for delays. Chapter Thirty-five: Contemplations Doorstep Version B- Cleaner
76 hours until disturbance/54 hours til Evac Dr. Boyd furiously scribbles notes on her tablet, as she studies the specimen in one of the holding tanks. N-Vorl stands a few feet away, arms crossed over his broad chest¡ªA blank expression on his usually grumpy countenance. Teresa leans forward and observes the Judas more closely. The juvenile, only a few hours old, climbs into a corner of the tank and deposits the oothecae attached to its rear end. Using a mixture of wet secretions from its mouth, and a viscous liquid from its anus, the insect secures the egg case to the wall. After which, it covers the egg sac with detritus from the tank. Teresa uses her stylus to scribble more notes into her tablet notepad. Her original theory, that the Judases are born pregnant, has proven incorrect. But only slightly. Due to the aggressive gene therapy and growth accelerant regime, the original specimens were subjected to; their descendants¡¯ reproductive cycles are much more enhanced. Each Judas female is capable of undergoing advanced parthenogenesis less than three hours after hatching. Going from larva, to pupa--or juvenile, to adult; in less than seven hours. Most never reach full maturity before producing their first offspring. Without the aid of a male, each of the surviving specimens in the lab, is dutifully hatching a perfectly viable egg sac. With more surely to come. Dr. Boyd turns to N-Vorl, only to discover he is nowhere in sight. One of the two yautja, who did not accompany Elder Glandis on his latest hunting exercise, is standing guard beside the tanks. The other hunter is either resting or performing duties elsewhere. Teresa decides to seek out N-Vorl herself. - - Dr. Boyd finds N-Vorl inside Laboratory Room Seven. He appears to be studying something on the floor, one knee bent and the other knee flush with the metal. Teresa¡¯s curiosity is piqued and she enters the room. The door closes automatically behind her and Teresa jumps slightly. Suddenly, being alone in this room with the big yautja doesn¡¯t seem like such a good idea. Sure, he has been less hostile recently. But he is still distrustful of her scientific methods. Dr. Boyd cautiously approaches N-Vorl¡ªnot wanting to appear aggressive. She calls his name when she is less than five feet from him. ¡°N-Vorl?¡± Teresa says in a soft whisper. He does not respond. Teresa stops walking and studies the very still yautja. He isn¡¯t looking at something on the floor. He is in a deep state of contemplation. The big yautja¡¯s head is lowered almost level with his chest and his left hand is pressed palm down against the cold metal floor. Teresa realizes her newest mistake and takes a backward step. N-Vorl¡¯s eyes open just as she turns to leave. The rustling of his body armor freezes Dr. Boyd in place. She slowly turns to meet his steely gaze. If the yautja¡¯s eyes were daggers; she¡¯d be dead a thousand times over. The enormous yautja rises to his feet, anger evident in every move of his muscled body. Teresa takes another backward step. ¡°I¡­I had no idea you were,¡± Teresa stammers. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to interrupt. I¡¯ll leave.¡± Teresa turns to hurry away¡ªfearing N-Vorl¡¯s wrath at her interference in his meditation. N-Vorl¡¯s loud voice prevents her from taking another step. ¡°I know why you were in here!¡± N-Vorl hisses loudly. ¡°When I found you kneeling on the floor. The same as I have done. I know what you found. And what you intend to do with it. What you have done with it.¡± Teresa turns back to N-Vorl and attempts to gauge his current level of aggression. She closes the distance between them warily. ¡°I¡­N-Vorl. You don¡¯t underst¡ª¡± ¡°I do understand, Dr. Boyd!¡± N-Vorl says heatedly. ¡°You obtained genetic material from my kin under false pretenses. And are planning to use it in your¡­Creations. I have my orders, Dr. Boyd¡ª." N-Vorl''s voice trails off and his brow creases. "If I were to expose you to Elder Glandis...He would have you killed,¡± N-Vorl says with a small degree of hesitation. Dr. Boyd takes another few steps forward. Challenging the belligerent N-Vorl is the last thing she wishes to do. However, for the moment, he is the only thing standing between her and death by combistick or plasmacaster. ¡°Where''s the harm in what I''ve done?¡± Teresa asks. ¡°Is this not in keeping with your elder¡¯s plan? Where¡¯s the fun in hunting a creature that cannot truly hunt you back? Your elders should be happy. I am offering them the chance of a lifetime. Of many lifetimes." N-Vorl turns away from Teresa and stares out of one of the viewports. He sighs heavily. ¡°This was not part of my orders,¡± N-Vorl replies in a gruff voice. ¡°Some things are not done.¡± Teresa boldly walks around N-Vorl, in order to face him. ¡°Answer me one question, N-Vorl,¡± she says in a hoarse whisper. ¡°Why not? Is there some law against it? A decree? Or has it simply never been done before? Are you afraid that one day your creations will eventually outhunt you? Or is it something else?¡± N-Vorl hesitates before answering. Teresa¡¯s challenge puts fire into his veins. Who is this ooman to question many millennia of yautja tradition? Even so, her reasoning does have merit. ¡°There is no decree,¡± he responds.
¡°Okay. Now, we¡¯re getting somewhere,¡± Teresa replies. ¡°I knew none of you would willingly submit a sample for me to study. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I did what I felt was needed to help this project along. I apologize for deceiving you. Elder Glandis wanted a beast that would be worthy of the hunt. I¡¯m trying to give him that. I know that you feel as if your skills are being wasted on this mission. I can see it in your eyes. Babysitting an ooman female is below your rank as a seasoned hunter. You long for a hunt which will demonstrate your true worth as a warrior¡­As a future elder.¡±
¡°You are wrong!¡± N-Vorl growls, his eyes burning with rage--and apprehension. The doctor''s words are much closer to the truth than N-Vorl would care to admit. There might have been a time when such a possibility was not so far-fetched. But no longer. ¡°It¡¯s the truth and you know it!¡± Teresa retorts. ¡°I know what you are.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± N-Vorl replies. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± ¡°I analyzed that aerosol you used on me. I even synthesized a batch for myself.¡± Dr. Boyd says. She reaches inside her lab coat pocket and pulls out N-Vorl¡¯s canister. She offers it to him. ¡°You can have this back," Teresa utters in what she hopes is a comforting voice. N-Vorl takes the offered aerosol spray and shoots Teresa a stern glare. ¡°The spray¡­It doesn¡¯t tell me a whole lot about us humans. But it sure tells me a helluva lot about you. Was it derived from your blood, N-Vorl? And by, ¡®your blood¡¯¡­I mean you specifically?¡± Teresa prods. ¡°Yes,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°It protects against¡­Episodes. Like the one you had in the lab. Sometimes, in certain situations¡­Females become feverish in their minds. Their behavior becomes erratic. My kind discovered that blood serums seem to help. Not always. But most of the time. There is no way of knowing which females will be affected until the onset of symptoms. Every male yautja carries a blood serum, if that is their wish. Some males prefer to forego it. It was not my intention to harm you.¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°But you didn¡¯t harm me!¡± Teresa says, unable to hide her excitement. ¡°Whatever you do¡­You don¡¯t do it consciously. The amount of pheromones you¡¯re pumping out is staggering. If you will forgive the pun. I need an injection just to be around you. I¡¯m thinking this gene for excessive pheromone production is why the Judases were aware of your party¡¯s initial presence. How many of the murdered yautja were in the same room as you when they were killed?¡± N-Vorl growls at the implication that he is responsible for his fellow hunters¡¯ deaths. He grips Teresa¡¯s forearm in a large hand and draws her close. Fear causes Teresa¡¯s heart to almost leap into her throat but she wills it away. ¡°You go too far, ooman!¡± N-Vorl hisses angrily. Teresa stares into his eyes. The sadness she sees reflected there overwhelms the anger he outwardly shows. ¡°You don¡¯t understand¡­¡± she whispers. ¡°I¡¯m not blaming you. I¡¯m trying to understand what happened. That¡¯s what scientists do. We look at every problem from every angle. There may be another explanation, but I needed to ask.¡± N-Vorl releases Dr. Boyd¡¯s arm and takes a step backward. ¡°I was in the same room with all but one of them,¡± N-Vorl says. The admission seems to add years to his appearance. Teresa reaches up and gently touches N-Vorl¡¯s cheek, turning his head so that he is looking at her. The yautja regards her through half-lidded eyes.
¡°I believe you are unique,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°What you have could be a great gift. Don¡¯t you see? Only certain males of your species carry the gene. If my suspicion is correct, Elder Glandis carries it as well. As do the other elders of your kind. It¡¯s what makes you distinctive from other yautja. Its why others are drawn to you. Why they follow the elders seemingly without question. And why so many of the other elders are...Adversarial in nature. You''re aware of each other''s...Gift. It¡¯s an evolutionary tool for creating order out of chaos. However, in this situation, it presents us with another problem. Most of the Judases are female. They would be very sensitive to your pheromones. In this case, that¡¯s a bad thing.¡± ¡°Then, I am a liability,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°No. You are the answer to so many questions,¡± Teresa says. Teresa drops her hand from N-Vorl¡¯s cheek to his right bicep. Her voice takes on a silky tone as she runs her hand down his sinewy arm. ¡°I¡¯ll need an unadulterated sample of your blood," Dr. Boyd says. "With some of your DNA, I can develop a spray that will suppress your pheromones for a short period of time. Say¡­Long enough to complete a decent hunt. And there are so many more applications we can explore. Genes are such wonderful things.¡± N-Vorl seems to consider her offer. His brow creases and he remains silent, many thoughts racing through his mind. He is unprepared for Teresa¡¯s arms encircling his waist. He looks down into her ooman face, a strange mix of emotions clouding his mind. ¡°For instance,¡± Teresa says, her voice soft and almost hypnotic. ¡°We could create the ultimate prey beast. Elder Glandis says he wants monsters. We can give him monsters. Monsters unlike anything you have ever hunted before. A creature with the cunning and stealth of a yautja. But the fragility and blind arrogance of a human. It would have all of your strengths¡ªtempered by our most¡­Ooman weaknesses. Maybe even a little Judas to add another layer of danger. A formidable quarry.¡± Teresa runs a hand up N-Vorl¡¯s back, while keeping her gaze fixed on his greenish eyes. ¡°What could be more worthy of a hunt?¡± Teresa says with a thin smile. N-Vorl is prepared to shove Dr. Boyd away, but she uses both hands to cup his face. Imitating the manner in which she witnessed P¡¯taal woo his intended; Dr. Boyd lowers N-Vorl¡¯s face and brushes his cheek with her own. N-Vorl¡¯s jaw clenches and she can feel his mandibles press against her flesh. After a brief moment of indecision, Teresa separates from N-Vorl and calculatedly kisses his mouth¡ªbeing extra careful to avoid slicing herself on his exposed teeth. The gesture requires a large degree of precision. She releases N-Vorl¡¯s face and rubs her cheek against his a second time. She exhales deeply to further drive her point home. "You all came here to create monsters," Teresa says in a husky whisper. "Well, you came to the right place. Monsters...Is what I do. I was sent by my company to create super-soldiers. I have every intention of doing just that. The only difference...I''ll be doing it for Elder Glandis. Instead of a greedy corporation. But mostly, I''ll be doing it for myself. However, I want something too. I want to carry your childling, N-Vorl." The blood in N-Vorl''s veins turns to ice. Is this ooman crazy? A hybrid being? Such a thing has never been done. Well, maybe not for millennia. A long time, anyway. Nevertheless, the idea does intrigue him. He gazes down at Teresa''s face, studying her¡ªwanting her. "Why do you wish to carry my childling?" N-Vorl inquires. "What purpose could that serve?" "To prove...It can be done," Teresa replies. "I''m a scientist. That''s our main purpose in life. The childling will serve as a control group. A hybrid against which all others must be compared. A testament to our dedication and devotion to the project." N-Vorl is not wholly convinced. There is a look in the doctor''s eye which does not match the words leaving her lips. "Do you have any idea how painful it is to birth a childling at full gestation?" N-Vorl chastises Dr. Boyd. "When a female is ready to release her offspring...Sometimes, her yells can be heard a long distance off." Dr. Boyd rolls her eyes and scrunches up her face. She wraps one of her arms around his waist a second time, pressing her other hand against his chest. "Birth isn''t exactly easy for us oomans either," Teresa retorts. "Women don''t die in childbirth as often as they once did. Thanks to some great advances in our care procedures. I''m not ignorant of the dangers. Even so, I''m not worried. We have a med pod." The ooman scientist wears an expression which tells N-Vorl there is a lot more going on in her head than what she is willing to admit. Her closeness, and her scent, begins to overwhelm him and he makes a final decision. Teresa¡¯s eyes widen as N-Vorl lowers his mouth to her throat. There is a sharp pain as he bites the flesh of her neck. Not enough to draw more than a few drops of blood. Thoughts race through Teresa¡¯s mind and she can¡¯t help but wonder if the vampires of old did not have a kernel of truth to them. If age-old vampire stories did not tell the tale of humans who were maybe just a little bit more. N-Vorl withdraws and his eyes are riveted to Dr. Boyd¡¯s. Teresa realizes she has crossed the threshold into a ritual of sorts. One she will have to see through. Steeling herself, she imitates N-Vorl¡¯s previous action. Her blunt teeth clamp down onto his flesh, but do absolutely no physical damage. N-Vorl draws back and meets her gaze. At this point, Teresa is sure she has done the right thing. N-Vorl lowers his mouth to her throat again. A warm wetness spreads over the area where his teeth pierced her flesh, and Teresa realizes that he is licking the blood found there. Teresa remains completely still until he is done. Drawing away, N-Vorl ejects his wrist blades. Dr. Boyd considers fleeing, believing the enormous warrior has turned murderous. Teresa''s eyes dart in the direction she intends to go, and N-Vorl anticipates her. He uses his unbladed arm to grab her; anchoring Teresa to the spot. Pressing the tips of his wrist blades to the flesh of his throat, N-Vorl draws them downward with only slight pressure. Two small gashes appear. Teresa watches as green blood pools around the two wounds on N-Vorl¡¯s neck. The big yautja nods silently, his eyes fixed on Teresa¡¯s face. She stares at the blood for a moment, her mouth growing dry. Maybe this is going a little too far. Can she see this affair all the way through? Does she dare? Swallowing hard, and bracing herself, Dr. Boyd stands on tiptoe. N-Vorl tilts his head and lowers himself further. Teresa brings her mouth over the seeping wounds on N-Vorl¡¯s neck. The taste of his blood is more metallic than she had expected, with a hint of something bordering on sweet. A wooziness seizes Dr. Boyd and her head starts to swim. ¡°Oh no,¡± she thinks to herself. ¡°Not again.¡± Taking N-Vorl¡¯s blood directly into her system is counteracting the injection she gave herself less than an hour before. After what seems like only a moment, Teresa¡¯s legs grow weak and she goes slightly limp. N-Vorl lifts her face, by placing a hand under her chin. He peers into her eyes. ¡°Do you want me to go on?¡± the warrior says in a husky voice. Teresa continues to stare into N-Vorl¡¯s green eyes. Eyes with flecks of brown. Eyes filled curiously with concern and something close to anxiety. Maybe even fear. Teresa caresses one side of N-Vorl''s face with a shaking hand. She manages a faint whisper. ¡°I would be honored to carry the childling of a future elder,¡± Teresa whispers. "I am not an elder," N-Vorl reiterates in a defeated tone. "That''s what you keep saying," Teresa responds. N-Vorl envelopes Teresa in his muscular arms, and she collapses against his large chest. He gently strokes the hair of her head. ¡°We must hurry,¡± N-Vorl says in a whisper. ¡°Elder Glandis, and his hunting party, will be back soon.¡± Teresa strokes the small of N-Vorl¡¯s back with a solitary hand. Her body shivers at the memory of what is yet to come. Doubt slowly entering the tiniest corner of her mind. ¡°I¡¯m not afraid, N-Vorl,¡± she whispers. ¡°You forget¡­I¡¯ve seen it all before.¡± N-Vorl is not so sure. He lowers his hands to the small of Dr. Boyd¡¯s back, positioning his thumbs so that they rest just above her hips. His eyes narrow, as he stares over her fragile ooman shoulder. He secretly hopes that the plan they have hatched does not prove to be a mistake.
¡°N-Vorl? What are you thinking?¡± Teresa queries. His silent examination is more than a little troubling. With a smile larger than Teresa would have ever believed him capable of, N-Vorl strokes the side of her face with a clawed hand. ¡°Let us create great things together,¡± N-Vorl pronounces, giving utterance to the extent of his mind¡¯s machinations. This ooman female intrigues him, with her attempts at tiny deceptions. Yet, her greatest deceptions, she puts little effort into hiding. ¡°As I said before¡­We must hurry,¡± N-Vorl insists. He wants desperately to proceed, but also wishes to give Teresa every opportunity to back out. Should she want one. ¡°I know,¡± Teresa replies. Taking a deep breath, N-Vorl chitters with nervous energy. He tenderly strokes Dr. Boyd¡¯s hair. No more time for delays. Chapter Thirty-Six: Habits
Laboratory Twelve Teresa stares at the current slide under the magnifier. With an air of confidence, Dr. Boyd moves away from the microscope and reclines backward in her chair. She rubs at her abdomen with one hand and reaches into her lab coat with the other. She withdraws a small vial of pale liquid. Her own little secret. Breaking down the key components of N-Vorl¡¯s aerosol spray had been easy. Finding the right mix of hormones to elicit a similar response in the big yautja had been the hard part. Not that he had needed much prodding. Either way, she had gotten what she needed. In the event that their lovemaking proves to be unsuccessful; artificial insemination is always an option. There are always other options. She¡¯d considered simply using P¡¯taal¡¯s DNA. However, the DNA of a future elder is a lot more suitable. Perhaps, the new species which arises from N-Vorl¡¯s genetic soup will be alpha-predators. Greater even than their ancient predecessors. N-Vorl¡¯s legacy will live on long after he has passed.
Rubbing her stomach yet again, Dr. Boyd feels a sharp twinge of pain from deep within. She chalks it up to butterflies and goes back to her previous work. Elder Glandis¡¯ hunting party arrives over an hour later, bearing gifts of Judas scent glands and severed heads. N-Vorl moves to greet his leader. A tense moment follows, as Elder Glandis silently appraises N-Vorl. Teresa¡¯s heart pounds in her chest and she hopes that there will be no fallout. Elder Glandis also carries the pheromone gene. His senses will be no less acute than N-Vorl''s. Even after a thorough cleansing, can the aged leader sense that something is different in his nephew? And if so, how will he react to this change? Teresa''s heart continues to beat uncontrollably, at the idea of a fierce confrontation between the two elders¡ªthe old and the overlooked. The moment passes, and Elder Glandis offers N-Vorl a fist¡ªin which are clenched at least five Judas scent glands. N-Vorl bows respectfully, his mask obscuring his face and his new love wounds, and takes the offered glands. Elder Glandis marches away without so much as another growl or chitter. His contingent¡ªall of whom seem to have survived the hunt, go about their various business. N-Vorl strides to where Teresa is seated and hands her the scent glands. Teresa takes them with slight embarrassment. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Teresa says as N-Vorl whirls on his heels to leave. N-Vorl turns back in her direction. His eyes search Teresa''s face as if expecting the source of her distress to be written there. ¡°For what do you apologize?¡± the warrior demands. ¡°If I have brought you shame,¡± Teresa says. N-Vorl removes his mask, and places it on a nearby table, to avoid having his words overheard. He closes the distance between himself and Dr. Boyd. Lowering himself to her level, he gazes into her eyes. ¡°He does not know. Or at least, I do not think so,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°He only wondered why I greeted him in the way of one going to battle. Why I did not remove my mask. I told him, it was because I expected to battle the enemy should they approach on his heels. This is only a partial truth. I do not make it a habit to hide things from my leaders. Do not make me regret having done so now.¡± Teresa nods silently and respectfully. She remembers the closeness of their bodies and the warmth of his skin. She remembers how he attempted to calm her when she had panicked. The hint of tenderness hidden beneath his fierce warrior exterior. The real N-Vorl. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, N-Vorl,¡± Teresa says, wishing she could grasp his hand. ¡°I won¡¯t.¡± Taking up his mask in a large hand, N-Vorl strolls from the room. Teresa watches him go with narrowed eyes and a solemn expression. - - As silently as a ghost, Glotis approaches Teresa''s workstation. The yautja scientist has spent the last few hours cleaning her trophies and conferring with P''taal. This is her first time laying eyes on Dr. Boyd since returning from the hunt. Glotis reaches out a hand and touches the small bandage affixed to Teresa¡¯s neck. Teresa jumps with surprise. She is at least a tiny bit reassured to see it is only Glotis. ¡°Did you injure yourself, ooman?¡± Glotis asks. Teresa grips the collar of her blouse and repositions it so that the bandage is concealed. She scrambles for a believable lie. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Yes¡­Uh¡­The centrifuge,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°I turned it on before I had secured the lid. One of the test tubes burst and ejected pieces of glass. I¡¯m just glad it didn¡¯t do more damage to the equipment.¡±
Glotis offers Teresa a blank look. Teresa is unsure if the yautja female believes her lie. However, she doesn¡¯t dare try to elaborate. ¡°Oh,¡± Glotis says. ¡°At least you are okay. We can continue our experiments." Without another word, Glotis strides defiantly away. Teresa''s heart beats solidly in her chest and she presses a hand to her bosom. Visions of N-Vorl, and the time they spent together, swirl in her mind. Why hadn''t she remembered to use the damn med pod? The yautja warrior has been making himself rather scarce the last few hours. Popping in and out only on occasion. Usually under the pretense of meetings with Elder Glandis, collecting data for mission reports, being regaled by his hunter brethren, and admiring the trophies of others. Even going so far as to feign hunger or tiredness. Something the sturdy yautja has not done the entire time she has known him. Teresa is sure he is avoiding her as much as possible. Intentionally, and with good reason. Dr. Boyd presses her hand harder against her chest; willing her heart to slow it''s rapid beating. Simply thinking about N-Vorl is enough to send her brain into a tailspin. How is she going to get through the next two days without letting something slip or blowing their cover? N-Vorl chooses this moment to stride heavily into the lab. He stops when he catches sight of Teresa. Leaning against the wall, in his usual spot, N-Vorl crosses his arms over his chest in customary fashion. Teresa quickly turns away from him. A smile builds on her lips, and she unfastens one of the buttons on her blouse. And then another. Going back to her simulations, Teresa plugs in more data for the computer to integrate. The first simulation had been a success. Even if the actual test subjects eventually died. If at first you don''t succeed; try, try again. The Judas is evidence of that. Perhaps, the problem is that they are using already mutated DNA. A pure sample might yield better results. They could try injecting the mutated Judas cells into the perfectly healthy cells of the stasis embryos. Teresa is still considering what she will say to Glotis, when N-Vorl''s footsteps approach her workstation. She hesitates to meet his gaze, afraid of what she will see there. "Have you eaten...Ooman?" N-Vorl inquires. He attempts indifference, but Teresa can sense there is more to his question. He isn''t just checking up on her. "I''m not hungry at the moment," Teresa responds. "Maybe later. I''ve got a lot of work to do. Stopping to eat will just slow me down. I''ve lost more time than I care to admit already." N-Vorl glances around before laying a hand on Teresa''s shoulder. She tenses and he partially withdraws his hand. His voice is calm and reassuring. "You must keep up your strength," N-Vorl says softly. "Do not wait too long to eat. We cannot afford you falling ill." N-Vorl finishes his statement and turns to go. Teresa waits until he is a fair distance away and then spins in her seat. The large yautja senses her gaze upon him and peers over one shoulder. Teresa''s throat tightens as their eyes meet. Just as she thought. The same look is in his eyes as the emotion which races through her heart. This is going to be a difficult next two days. - - N-Vorl stands silently in Lab Room Seven. The lights are off and he stares vacantly through the circular viewport. The door to the lab opens and Glotis enters. She glides effortlessly toward N-Vorl. The huge warrior only partially turns when she is close by his side. He immediately returns his attention forward. One of the planet¡¯s three suns is visible, as is another planet with multiple rings. N-Vorl stares at the celestial bodies with an expression of near loneliness. ¡°You have always used your fists and your blades more than your mouth,¡± Glotis teases. ¡°But, you¡¯ve had very little to say, N-Vorl. You do not even grumble against the ooman anymore. Do you hunger for the hunt?¡± ¡°Of course, I wish to hunt,¡± N-Vorl says, keeping his eyes forward. ¡°But, there is nothing for me to say. The ooman is doing as we asked. Her information has proven invaluable to us. As much as it may pain me to work with an ooman¡­My feelings are of little consequence now.¡± Glotis nods understandingly and reaches out a hand to gently touch N-Vorl¡¯s arm. N-Vorl glances down at the hand on his forearm and covers it with his own. ¡°Once our work is completed, you will have an adversary worthy of your cunning and prowess,¡± Glotis exclaims. A smile spreads across her face. ¡°Despite what you may believe....No one here doubts your skill, N-Vorl! Not even the ooman. She has said so before. She worries that you are cleverer than you seem.¡± N-Vorl releases a soft chuff from his throat and offers Glotis a playful glare. ¡°Then, I have not been clever enough,¡± N-Vorl mocks through a wide smile. ¡°I shall have to be more careful.¡± Once again growing solemn, N-Vorl squeezes Glotis hand. She responds by placing her other hand atop the hand which is doing the squeezing. ¡°Will you be joining Elder Glandis on his final hunt¡­Before our ship leaves the planet?¡± N-Vorl inquires. There is no trace of envy in his voice, only genuine interest. ¡°I am not sure,¡± Glotis admits. ¡°We are close to achieving several important stages in the hybridization process. I don¡¯t want to lose valuable time. The Judases will still be here when we return to the planet.¡± ¡°This is true,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°But I know P¡¯taal will take pleasure in your company.¡± Glotis¡¯ eyes widen and she stares at N-Vorl with an expression akin to fear. ¡°Then, you mean¡ª¡± she whispers.
N-Vorl silences her with a headshake. He does not wish Glotis to condemn herself by speaking the truth from her own mouth. ¡°I only know he cares deeply for your safety. He will feel better knowing you are where he can watch over you and protect you.¡± N-Vorl lies. ¡°Then, I will accompany him,¡± Glotis exclaims. All traces of Glotis'' previous fears are gone. It is replaced by a prideful confidence. N-Vorl smiles knowingly and turns back to the viewport. Glotis whirls and exits the room. N-Vorl does not watch her go. His mind is suddenly flooded with memories. Memories of soft flesh and tender embraces. He clenches a fist at his side, in an effort to stem the flow of emotional energy surging through his body. What have they done? Chapter Thirty-Seven: Did You Now
Seven Hours Until Evacuation Deadline Dr. Boyd stifles a yawn and glances around at her surroundings. Fanning herself with a Dayshadow Industries welcome packet, she initializes a new computer program. The program''s main purpose is to identify the harmonic frequency used by the current Judas mutations in their camouflaging abilities. The bugs have been altering the frequency with each new generation, attempting to stay one step ahead of the cunning yautja warriors. With so many nests to keep track of, and so many generations of Judases, even the computer regularly runs into problems pinning down a likely frequency. Making Dr. Boyd''s task of creating a modified motion detector, which will instead hone in on the necessary frequency, very difficult. Teresa observes the subject in holding tank three via the same remote app she used to view P¡¯taal and Glotis during their enlightening episode of yautja coitus. Teresa glances up to see Elder Glandis and his party filing toward the entrance to the laboratory. Teresa stands from her place at the desk and watches them leave the lab. She is even more surprised to see Glotis and P¡¯taal leaving as well. Each warrior is fully outfitted; their weapons at the ready. Teresa can only guess they are going on a final hunt before time to evacuate. Placing a hand on her hip, Dr. Boyd grumbles to herself. ¡°Another hunt? Right now? With all of my... Absolute foolishness,¡± Teresa mutters under her breath. ¡°What¡¯s the point of doing all these tests and outfitting these bugs¡­If they won¡¯t even wait to see the results? Dumb! That¡¯s what it is. Just plain dumb! All they care about is hunting, hunting, and more hunting. So much for actual science.¡± Rubbing a hand over her neck, Teresa plops back down into her chair with a sullen pout. A bone-tiredness has sapped her energy, and she attempts to massage it away. She closes both eyes, intending to steal just a moment of rest. However, a moment later, N-Vorl¡¯s heavy footsteps stop beside her chair. Teresa groggily opens both eyes to find the big yautja staring down at her. There is a look on his face which is unmistakable¡ªwhether it be on a human or a yautja. Teresa sits upright in her chair. She reluctantly meets N-Vorl¡¯s gaze. ¡°Another hunting trip?¡± Dr. Boyd asks, trying to figure out exactly what has brought N-Vorl to her desk. ¡°Yes,¡± N-Vorl says with a head nod. ¡°It may be the last opportunity to hunt a Judas queen until well after the disturbance has passed. We must hope that enough damage is not done to render the project useless. Two guards have been stationed outside the doors to the main entrance. They are to alert us if anything enters the corridor which isn¡¯t one of our warriors.¡± Teresa grows solemn. She glances at the door to Lab Room Seven, inside which the med pod sits. ¡°I don¡¯t think this is a particularly smart move,¡± Teresa says. She rakes a hand through her hair. ¡°But, of course, my vote doesn¡¯t count. If there are any casualties¡­I haven¡¯t calibrated the med pod to do anything more than patch up minor bumps and scrapes. And with it so close to evacuation time? Oh well. Guess, I¡¯ve got some work to do while they¡¯re gone.¡± Teresa is silenced when N-Vorl¡¯s hand slips under her chin. He raises her head so that she is looking directly into his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve always said¡­Oomans talk too much,¡± N-Vorl says mockingly. ¡°Thanks,¡± Teresa replies. ¡°I guess.¡± N-Vorl narrows his eyes, and the big yautja actually smiles. There is a flutter in Teresa¡¯s stomach and her breathing increases. N-Vorl¡¯s gaze shifts by a small degree as he observes the minute changes in Teresa¡¯s appearance. Her deepening color, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, and the tightening of her jaw. N-Vorl¡¯s smile widens. ¡°But I do not wish to discuss matters of science right now,¡± N-Vorl says. Teresa catches a glimpse of the previous expression which transformed the enormous warrior¡¯s countenance. She is unable to suppress the sudden feeling that they have wandered into new territory. Good. ¡°I convinced Glotis and P¡¯taal to accompany Elder Glandis on his hunting trip,¡± N-Vorl explains, his smile growing impossibly bigger. ¡°Did you now?¡± Teresa utters. Her heart flutters wildly in her chest. She can already guess where this is going. She raises a hand and cups N-Vorl¡¯s opposite wrist¡ªthe hand of which is still resting underneath her chin. ¡°Am I to understand,¡± Teresa continues. ¡°That we are no longer in the strictly business phase?¡± N-Vorl places his hands on the desk, to either side of Teresa. He leans forward and there is a definite glint in his eye. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°What do you think?¡± the yautja says in a soft voice. He perfectly mimics a line Teresa has said to him in just that exact tone. A laugh escapes Dr. Boyd¡¯s throat and she struggles to keep it contained. ¡°Oh dear,¡± Dr. Boyd exclaims. So she¡¯d read him right after all. Wrapping both arms around N-Vorl¡¯s neck, Dr. Boyd stares into his eyes. Eyes almost the color of freshly mowed grass on a lush green golf course. One muscled arm slips around Teresa¡¯s waist and she trembles with expectation. Grateful that she remembered to take her dosage of blood serum, Teresa allows N-Vorl to kiss her. He performs his awkward version of a human kiss with as much finesse as his extremely large physique will allow. A deep sadness envelopes Teresa and she begins to cry. Richard, Harold, and now N-Vorl. Is she doomed to this kind of love forever? A love that can never last? N-Vorl pulls back just enough to peer at Teresa''s face. He observes the tears running from her eyes with overt confusion. ¡°What is wrong?¡± N-Vorl asks. ¡°Have I hurt you?¡± ¡°No,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°I was only¡ª¡± N-Vorl¡¯s large hand cups Teresa¡¯s right cheek. A solitary finger tracing the line of tears trailing down that side of her face. ¡°Are you happy, then?¡± N-Vorl inquires. Teresa remains silent, staring into his eyes with uncertainty. There is only a shadow of a doubt in Teresa¡¯s mind that it was N-Vorl¡¯s shoulder cannon which sheared Harold in two. How do you tell your newest lover they may have murdered the one other human you have felt passion for in a long time? ¡°No¡­I¡­I don¡¯t know,¡± Teresa lies. She struggles to keep any further emotion from her voice. ¡°You oomans are confusing creatures,¡± N-Vorl states, unable to hide the disdain almost ingrained into his DNA. ¡°You cry when you are angry¡­When you are sad¡­And when you are happy. How is a mate to know the difference?¡± ¡°Wait¡­What?¡± Teresa says. Her eyes widen and she stumbles over her words. N-Vorl takes a deep breath before reiterating his former statement. ¡°You oomans cry when you are¡ª¡± N-Vorl protests, but Teresa cuts him off with a finger to his mouth. ¡°I understand that part. Repeat the other part,¡± Teresa pressures him. N-Vorl¡¯s brow knits, and his mouth draws shut, as he realizes what he let slip. Rather than repeat his words, N-Vorl opts to demonstrate them. Pulling Dr. Boyd close, he enfolds her in his arms. Teresa sighs as N-Vorl lowers his head to her throat. The warmth of his mouth against her skin is a welcome distraction, his hands making their way under the back of her lab coat and then her blouse. Shutting her eyes tightly, Dr. Boyd strokes the hair upon N-Vorl¡¯s head. Mates? Is that what they are to each other now? What does that even entail? Teresa knows so little about their methods of cohabitation. Did a yautja have many mates? Are they monogamous? Do they mate for a season? Or for a lifetime? So many questions. Questions, she dares not ask. Not yet. When N-Vorl¡¯s hand travels to her stomach, Teresa opens her eyes. He is staring at her intensely. There is now an air of seriousness to their conversation. ¡°Some things¡­Are not done,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°Or¡­They have not been done in many millennia.¡± This admission causes N-Vorl to temporarily look away. A war of another kind rages deep in his chest, and N-Vorl brings Teresa closer to him. ¡°How will we say the little one came about? Elder Glandis will not accept¡­What we have done to reach this point,¡± N-Vorl states in a solemn voice. ¡°I¡¯m a scientist, N-Vorl,¡± Teresa says. ¡°If a child is to be born¡­I will tell him all he needs to know. You need not be involved.¡± N-Vorl presses his forehead to Teresa¡¯s. His green eyes peer into hers; as if reading her mind from the backs of her eyes. Planting a yautja¡¯s kiss on Teresa¡¯s forehead, he then lowers his mouth to her lips. Carefully positioning his teeth against the flesh of Dr. Boyd¡¯s mouth, he slowly draws them apart. As a result, Teresa¡¯s lips part as well. He allows his tongue to play over the inner surface of her lips, and eventually her mouth. Teresa returns his passion with equal intensity, knowing this could be the last time.
Teresa contemplates exactly what she will say to Elder Glandis. The yautja leader will definitely not be happy. However, everything Dr. Boyd has seen of Glandis tells her that he is not one prone to rash behavior. Except maybe, going out on regular hunts against an ever-evolving, extremely adaptable, more numerous, and unpredictable foe. But besides that, Elder Glandis has given her every impression that he is a fair judge of both circumstances and character. Were he not, she would certainly already be dead. As N-Vorl has made very clear. N-Vorl has already moved on from his previous worries, his appetite growing with every moment of physical contact. Teresa sighs as his mandibles brush her cheek, and he places his mouth against the flesh above her collarbone. He kisses her skin repeatedly; in his own yautja way. Teresa can¡¯t help but wonder at what is going through his mind. Is he as confused and aroused as she is? What biological process has allowed for any of this to happen? Had her spells of nausea and other symptoms been a signal that she was attracted to him all along? That her body had known what she is only now willing to admit? Such a strange thing, too. She has never been attracted to so-called ¡®bad boys,¡¯ Guys like Theodore, or her first boyfriend, were always trouble right out of the gate. Life has taught her to look beneath the surface when seeking the true character of a man. All that shines is not a diamond. Her one great weakness, has always been a man in uniform. Seeing a uniformed Richard Crews, standing alone on the pier in New Vegas, had activated a part of her brain she¡¯d forgotten existed. Then, there had been Harold in his standard blue work jumpsuit. Always clean, always pressed, and a man who cared about first impressions. N-Vorl is a different beast altogether. What with his rugged physique, worn battle armor, and otherworldly ideas of honor and loyalty. N-Vorl excites her in a way that is beyond all comprehension. Because in truth, he is a bit of an asshole. For N-Vorl¡¯s part, he is more concerned with the here and now. The scent of Teresa¡¯s flesh subtlety changes as she cycles through many emotions. Chemicals of fear, sadness, and arousal are more present in her blood; and N-Vorl has grown accustomed to the smell of every one of them. He rests a large hand at the base of Teresa¡¯s neck. Tilting her head, he kisses the flesh under her throat and chin. Almost immediately, Teresa releases something which is between a gasp and a sigh. The hormone levels in her blood rise yet again, and her carotid pulsates harder. N-Vorl is able to feel the change through the upper part of his mouth. His olfactory senses filling him in on what he has only suspected until now. For their mutual benefit, he chooses to keep her waiting no longer. Chapter Thirty-Seven: Did You Now (Version B- Cleaner)
Seven Hours Until Evacuation Deadline
Dr. Boyd stifles a yawn and glances around at her surroundings. Fanning herself with a Dayshadow Industries welcome packet, she initializes a new computer program. The program''s main purpose is to identify the harmonic frequency used by the current Judas mutations in their camouflaging abilities. The bugs have been altering the frequency with each new generation, attempting to stay one step ahead of the cunning yautja warriors. With so many nests to keep track of, and so many generations of Judases, even the computer regularly runs into problems pinning down a likely frequency. Making Dr. Boyd''s task of creating a modified motion detector, which will instead hone in on the necessary frequency, very difficult. Teresa observes the subject in holding tank three via the same remote app she used to view P¡¯taal and Glotis during their enlightening episode of yautja coitus. Teresa glances up to see Elder Glandis and his party filing toward the entrance to the laboratory. Teresa stands from her place at the desk and watches them leave the lab. She is even more surprised to see Glotis and P¡¯taal leaving as well. Each warrior is fully outfitted; their weapons at the ready. Teresa can only guess they are going on a final hunt before time to evacuate. Placing a hand on her hip, Dr. Boyd grumbles to herself. ¡°Another hunt? Right now? With all of my... Absolute foolishness,¡± Teresa mutters under her breath. ¡°What¡¯s the point of doing all these tests and outfitting these bugs¡­If they won¡¯t even wait to see the results? Dumb! That¡¯s what it is. Just plain dumb! All they care about is hunting, hunting, and more hunting. So much for actual science.¡± Rubbing a hand over her neck, Teresa plops back down into her chair with a sullen pout. A bone-tiredness has sapped her energy, and she attempts to massage it away. She closes both eyes, intending to steal just a moment of rest. However, a moment later, N-Vorl¡¯s heavy footsteps stop beside her chair. Teresa groggily opens both eyes to find the big yautja staring down at her. There is a look on his face which is unmistakable¡ªwhether it be on a human or a yautja. Teresa sits upright in her chair. She reluctantly meets N-Vorl¡¯s gaze. ¡°Another hunting trip?¡± Dr. Boyd asks, trying to figure out exactly what has brought N-Vorl to her desk. ¡°Yes,¡± N-Vorl says with a head nod. ¡°It may be the last opportunity to hunt a Judas queen until well after the disturbance has passed. We must hope that enough damage is not done to render the project useless. Two guards have been stationed outside the doors to the main entrance. They are to alert us if anything enters the corridor which isn¡¯t one of our warriors.¡± Teresa grows solemn. She glances at the door to Lab Room Seven, inside which the med pod sits.
¡°I don¡¯t think this is a particularly smart move,¡± Teresa says. She rakes a hand through her hair. ¡°But, of course, my vote doesn¡¯t count. If there are any casualties¡­I haven¡¯t calibrated the med pod to do anything more than patch up minor bumps and scrapes. And with it so close to evacuation time? Oh well. Guess, I¡¯ve got some work to do while they¡¯re gone.¡± Teresa is silenced when N-Vorl¡¯s hand slips under her chin. He raises her head so that she is looking directly into his eyes. ¡°I¡¯ve always said¡­Oomans talk too much,¡± N-Vorl says mockingly. ¡°Thanks,¡± Teresa replies. ¡°I guess.¡± N-Vorl narrows his eyes, and the big yautja actually smiles. There is a flutter in Teresa¡¯s stomach and her breathing increases. N-Vorl¡¯s gaze shifts by a small degree as he observes the minute changes in Teresa¡¯s appearance. Her deepening color, the rapid rise and fall of her chest, and the tightening of her jaw. N-Vorl¡¯s smile widens. ¡°But I do not wish to discuss matters of science right now,¡± N-Vorl says. Teresa catches a glimpse of the previous expression which transformed the enormous warrior¡¯s countenance. She is unable to suppress the sudden feeling that they have wandered into new territory. Good. ¡°I convinced Glotis and P¡¯taal to accompany Elder Glandis on his hunting trip,¡± N-Vorl explains, his smile growing impossibly bigger. ¡°Did you now?¡± Teresa utters. Her heart flutters wildly in her chest. She can already guess where this is going. She raises a hand and cups N-Vorl¡¯s opposite wrist¡ªthe hand of which is still resting underneath her chin. If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Am I to understand,¡± Teresa continues. ¡°That we are no longer in the strictly business phase?¡± N-Vorl places his hands on the desk, to either side of Teresa. He leans forward and there is a definite glint in his eye. ¡°What do you think?¡± the yautja says in a soft voice. He perfectly mimics a line Teresa has said to him in just that exact tone. A laugh escapes Dr. Boyd¡¯s throat and she struggles to keep it contained. ¡°Oh dear,¡± Dr. Boyd exclaims. So she¡¯d read him right after all. Wrapping both arms around N-Vorl¡¯s neck, Dr. Boyd stares into his eyes. Eyes almost the color of freshly mowed grass on a lush green golf course. One muscled arm slips around Teresa¡¯s waist and she trembles with expectation. Grateful that she remembered to take her dosage of blood serum, Teresa allows N-Vorl to kiss her. He performs his awkward version of a human kiss with as much finesse as his extremely large physique will allow. A deep sadness envelopes Teresa and she begins to cry. Richard, Harold, and now N-Vorl. Is she doomed to this kind of love forever? A love that can never last? N-Vorl pulls back just enough to peer at Teresa''s face. He observes the tears running from her eyes with overt confusion. ¡°What is wrong?¡± N-Vorl asks. ¡°Have I hurt you?¡± ¡°No,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°I was only¡ª¡± N-Vorl¡¯s large hand cups Teresa¡¯s right cheek. A solitary finger tracing the line of tears trailing down that side of her face. ¡°Are you happy, then?¡± N-Vorl inquires. Teresa remains silent, staring into his eyes with uncertainty. There is only a shadow of a doubt in Teresa¡¯s mind that it was N-Vorl¡¯s shoulder cannon which sheared Harold in two. How do you tell your newest lover they may have murdered the one other human you have felt passion for in a long time? ¡°No¡­I¡­I don¡¯t know,¡± Teresa lies. She struggles to keep any further emotion from her voice. ¡°You oomans are confusing creatures,¡± N-Vorl states, unable to hide the disdain almost ingrained into his DNA. ¡°You cry when you are angry¡­When you are sad¡­And when you are happy. How is a mate to know the difference?¡± ¡°Wait¡­What?¡± Teresa says. Her eyes widen and she stumbles over her words. N-Vorl takes a deep breath before reiterating his former statement. ¡°You oomans cry when you are¡ª¡± N-Vorl protests, but Teresa cuts him off with a finger to his mouth. ¡°I understand that part. Repeat the other part,¡± Teresa pressures him. N-Vorl¡¯s brow knits, and his mouth draws shut, as he realizes what he let slip. Rather than repeat his words, N-Vorl opts to demonstrate them. Pulling Dr. Boyd close, he enfolds her in his arms. Teresa sighs as N-Vorl lowers his head to her throat. Shutting her eyes tightly, Dr. Boyd strokes the hair upon N-Vorl¡¯s head. Mates? Is that what they are to each other now? What does that even entail? Teresa knows so little about their methods of cohabitation. Did a yautja have many mates? Are they monogamous? Do they mate for a season? Or for a lifetime? So many questions. Questions, she dares not ask. Not yet. When N-Vorl¡¯s hand travels to her stomach, Teresa opens her eyes. He is staring at her intensely. There is now an air of seriousness to their conversation. ¡°Some things¡­Are not done,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°Or¡­They have not been done in many millennia.¡± This admission causes N-Vorl to temporarily look away. A war of another kind rages deep in his chest, and N-Vorl brings Teresa closer to him. ¡°How will we say the little one came about? Elder Glandis will not accept¡­What we have done to reach this point,¡± N-Vorl states in a solemn voice. ¡°I¡¯m a scientist, N-Vorl,¡± Teresa says. ¡°If a child is to be born¡­I will tell him all he needs to know. You need not be involved.¡± N-Vorl presses his forehead to Teresa¡¯s. His green eyes peer into hers; as if reading her mind from the backs of her eyes. Planting a yautja¡¯s kiss on Teresa¡¯s forehead, he then lowers his mouth to her lips.
Teresa contemplates exactly what she will say to Elder Glandis. The yautja leader will definitely not be happy. However, everything Dr. Boyd has seen of Glandis tells her that he is not one prone to rash behavior. Except maybe, going out on regular hunts against an ever-evolving, extremely adaptable, more numerous, and unpredictable foe. But besides that, Elder Glandis has given her every impression that he is a fair judge of both circumstances and character. Were he not, she would certainly already be dead. As N-Vorl has made very clear. N-Vorl has already moved on from his previous worries, his appetite growing with every moment of physical contact. Teresa can¡¯t help but wonder at what is going through his mind. Is he as confused and aroused as she is? What biological process has allowed for any of this to happen? Had her spells of nausea and other symptoms been a signal that she was attracted to him all along? That her body had known what she is only now willing to admit? Such a strange thing, too. She has never been attracted to so-called ¡®bad boys,¡¯ Guys like Theodore, or her first boyfriend, were always trouble right out of the gate. Life has taught her to look beneath the surface when seeking the true character of a man. All that shines is not a diamond. Her one great weakness, has always been a man in uniform. Seeing a uniformed Richard Crews, standing alone on the pier in New Vegas, had activated a part of her brain she¡¯d forgotten existed. Then, there had been Harold in his standard blue work jumpsuit. Always clean, always pressed, and a man who cared about first impressions. N-Vorl is a different beast altogether. What with his rugged physique, worn battle armor, and otherworldly ideas of honor and loyalty. N-Vorl excites her in a way that is beyond all comprehension. Because in truth, he is a bit of an asshole. For N-Vorl¡¯s part, he is more concerned with the here and now. For their mutual benefit, he chooses to keep her waiting no longer. Chapter Thirty-Eight: No Fear
Outside of the ship Dark, angry storm clouds blanket the sky. The approaching geothermic disturbance is already having an effect on the localized weather. A small Judas scrambles near the California''s open hangar door. The young insect climbs to the ground and scrambles over to where another of its kind is tearing apart some manner of food. The grisly meal includes a decaying human torso, draped in what remains of a tattered blue jumpsuit. Several insects hover nearby, waiting for the largest of them to finish eating. Half of the insect group loses patience and scurries back in the direction of the ship. Another, more adventurous insect, heads for the treeline yards away--in search of other things to devour. More of the departing insect''s companions take notice and follow behind it. After another minute, only the small latecomer hovers menacingly over the rotting human remains. Alone with its appetizer of putrefaction, the young Judas rips free a giant chunk of the corpse''s left thigh. - - Their task completed, Teresa and N-Vorl lie atop one of the med lab''s sheets. N-Vorl''s arm is draped affectionately over her chest. Teresa''s eyes are shut and she breathes heavily. N-Vorl watches her with a secret smile. Leaning forward, he kisses her bare shoulder. Teresa''s eyes open and she turns her head to gaze at her new lover. For a moment, all they do is stare. In the next moment, Teresa turns entirely to face him. N-Vorl pulls her into a tight embrace. Snuggling against his chest, Teresa tries to blink away the cloud of mental euphoria impairing her judgment. She kisses N-Vorl beneath his chin. "We have to get moving," she says. "They''ll be returning soon. I think I know you yautja pretty well by now. You''re sticklers for punctuality. They won''t risk missing the deadline." N-Vorl separates from Teresa only enough to dip and kiss her passionately. - - For the second time, N-Vorl watches Teresa shower without fear of reprimand or reprisal. His eyes are narrowed as he gazes in her direction. He is enjoying the view almost as much as she enjoys the feeling of the warm spray upon her skin. The ooman chemicals she calls ¡®soap¡¯ and ¡®shampoo¡¯ fill the room with an aroma which nearly masks her natural scent. However, despite the fragrant aroma of these foreign chemicals, he can smell the depth of her pleasure. Yautja need no such chemicals. Once Teresa is finished showering, she turns and gives N-Vorl an awkward smile. Water runs down her hair and drips onto her face. She reaches out to him with one hand, while feigning modesty by placing her other arm across her chest. ¡°Would you be so kind as to hand me my towel?¡± Teresa says with a coy smirk. N-Vorl retrieves the towel from the rack and approaches Dr. Boyd. However, rather than hand her the towel; he drapes it over one wrist and reaches for his implement belt. He opens a small compartment and removes a glasslike canister containing a reddish liquid. Teresa looks down at N-Vorl''s hand and then returns her gaze to his face. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Teresa inquires, unable to deny a wary fluttering in her chest. "A contraceptive?" N-Vorl steps closer and takes Teresa¡¯s hand. He places the tiny glass canister on her palm and closes her fingers around it. ¡°It is elixir made from the flowers of a chruksh,¡± N-Vorl states candidly. ¡°It is reserved for only the elders and those of the higher caste. It helps us to remain focused and strong. My father grows many such trees. He does not miss a little¡­From time to time.¡± You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Teresa completely forgets the towel. She turns the glass container of liquid over in her hand. When she makes eye contact with N-Vorl again, she is halfway between a laugh and a sob. ¡°So¡­I was right?!?¡± Teresa exclaims, her suspicions finally confirmed. ¡°And you tried to convince me that you are not an elder!¡± ¡°I am not an elder!¡± N-Vorl replies. ¡°Elder Glandis is my father¡¯s brother. My father controls one of many habitats where the chruksh is cultivated. Nothing more.¡± ¡°Nothing more?!?¡± Dr. Boyd almost yells before catching herself. ¡°This explains a lot. For instance...I can¡¯t envision P¡¯taal getting away with half of the insubordination which Elder Glandis allows you to get away with. Questioning his orders and his authority. Ha. Elder Glandis would be eating P¡¯taal¡¯s liver for dinner. Who¡ªor what¡ªyour father is¡­Doesn¡¯t matter. You have the gene. I¡¯m willing to bet¡­Your father doesn¡¯t. Ha." Teresa twists her mouth into a teasing smirk and turns the tiny canister in her hand. "No wonder you¡¯re such an asshole! You¡¯re an army brat!" N-Vorl is unclear on what either an asshole or an army brat are. However, Teresa¡¯s tone of voice tells him that neither is a particularly good thing. He takes a mock menacing step in Dr. Boyd''s direction and places a hand under her chin. Lifting Teresa''s face, he lowers his own face to within a few inches. Her lips part in expectation, but N-Vorl hovers playfully over her. Teresa glares at him with equal playfulness. ¡°I wish you would not look at me in that way!¡± N-Vorl says. His eyes narrow to small slits. ¡°In what way?!¡± Teresa says, feigning ignorance. ¡°In the way that a hungry ghkivu observes its prey,¡± N-Vorl explains. Dr. Boyd toys with the mesh on N-Vorl¡¯s right bicep. She offers him another coy smile. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to start talking like we¡¯re from the same solar system. I have no idea what a ghkivu is!¡± Teresa says. Dr. Boyd¡¯s eyes are locked on N-Vorl¡¯s face and the smile remains on her lips. N-Vorl returns her smile, snaking an arm around her waist. ¡°A ghkivu is a large beast with many eyes and tentacles,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°It seeks out its prey in dark crevices underwater. Ghkivu use their many eyes to see where other beasts cannot.¡± Teresa follows N-Vorl''s lead; placing a wet arm around his waist. She lowers her eyes to his mouth. ¡°Ah. Then, I guess I¡¯d better do as you say!¡± Teresa teasingly scoffs. ¡°I don¡¯t want to scare you!¡± N-Vorl closes the distance between their faces even more. His mouth less than two inches from Teresa¡¯s. ¡°Do not stop!" N-Vorl says. "It makes me hungry as well!¡± ¡°Oh, dear!¡± Teresa says. ¡°That could be a problem. I like my liver right where it¡¯s at.¡± Enfolding N-Vorl¡¯s neck; Teresa brings their mouths into full contact. N-Vorl places a hand at the back of Teresa¡¯s head, her wet hair sliding across the flesh of his fingers. N-Vorl is reluctant to pull away as Teresa gently pushes at his chest. ¡°I have to get dressed,¡± Teresa says through ragged breathes. ¡°I have a report to finish and they¡¯ll be back any time now.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± N-Vorl responds. He releases Teresa and backs away a couple of steps. ¡°You¡¯re more than welcome to stay,¡± Teresa says. She uses her teeth to pull another circular band off of her wrist and place it around her hair. ¡°If anyone asks¡­You can say you were simply doing your job.¡± Teresa performs another slow, one-eyed blink. N-Vorl has tried to perform the same action; with zero success. He does not try again. Instead, he leans against the wall. As Teresa dresses, she makes a melodious sound that is without words. N-Vorl listens intently. While the doctor is still very saddened by all that has happened. For now, she is also content. - - The hunting party returns over an hour later. Three new yautja warriors are now accompanying them¡ªsent down from the mothership to ensure Elder Glandis¡¯ safe return. Two of the previous guards were killed in this latest battle. However, the yautja''s spirits are high. The air is filled with jubilation as Judas carapaces are polished to a spit-shine and crests are punched with holes¡ªto be placed triumphantly on the mesh suits of battle-seasoned warriors. Teresa watches this with fascination and weariness. The two fallen yaujta seem to have already been forgotten. Or maybe, this is how the yautja cope. By pretending it never happened, while reveling over the bodies of those beasts responsible. A kind of silent vengeance. Dr. Boyd stands to go into the lounge. The sights and sounds of revelry overloading her senses. These recent deaths have rattled her false security. A strong coffee is just what she needs. Glotis intercepts Teresa as she heads into the lounge. ¡°Doctor?¡± Glotis says. ¡°There is something I think you should know.¡± Teresa turns to face the yaujta scientist and her heart nearly leaps out of her chest. In Glotis¡¯ right hand, she holds the head of a Judas queen¡ªsuspended in a mesh net. ¡°We killed another queen. I thought you might want her head for a more thorough study of¡ª,¡± Glotis intones.
Dr. Boyd lets out a sharp gasp and backs away. Her face contorts in both terror and disgust. ¡°Why would you bring that to me?!¡± Teresa whispers hoarsely. ¡°Keep that away from me! I don¡¯t want it!¡± Teresa backs quickly away from Glotis. When she is a safe distance from the yautja female, and her haunting gift, Dr. Boyd turns and speed walks into the lounge. The image of Harold¡¯s distorted face is forever seared into her brain. Glotis swivels to face Elder Glandis, whose mandibles are clicking furiously. N-Vorl¡®s mind does battle with itself. He wants to run to Teresa. To comfort her. But he doesn¡¯t dare. Not yet. Chapter Thirty-Eight: No Fear (Version B- Cleaner)
Outside of the ship Dark, angry storm clouds blanket the sky. The approaching geothermic disturbance is already having an effect on the localized weather. A small Judas scrambles near the California''s open hangar door. The young insect climbs to the ground and scrambles over to where another of its kind is tearing apart some manner of food. The grisly meal includes a decaying human torso, draped in what remains of a tattered blue jumpsuit. Several insects hover nearby, waiting for the largest of them to finish eating. Half of the insect group loses patience and scurries back in the direction of the ship. Another, more adventurous insect, heads for the treeline yards away--in search of other things to devour. More of the departing insect''s companions take notice and follow behind it. After another minute, only the small latecomer hovers menacingly over the rotting human remains. Alone with its appetizer of putrefaction, the young Judas rips free a giant chunk of the corpse''s left thigh. - - For the second time, N-Vorl watches Teresa shower without fear of reprimand or reprisal. His eyes are narrowed as he gazes in her direction. The ooman chemicals she calls ¡®soap¡¯ and ¡®shampoo¡¯ fill the room with an aroma which nearly masks her natural scent. Yautja need no such chemicals. Once Teresa is finished showering, she turns and gives N-Vorl an awkward smile. Water runs down her hair and drips onto her face. She reaches out to him with one hand, while feigning modesty by placing her other arm across her chest. ¡°Would you be so kind as to hand me my towel?¡± Teresa says with a coy smirk. N-Vorl retrieves the towel from the rack and approaches Dr. Boyd. However, rather than hand her the towel; he drapes it over one wrist and reaches for his implement belt. He opens a small compartment and removes a glasslike canister containing a reddish liquid. Teresa looks down at N-Vorl''s hand and then returns her gaze to his face. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Teresa inquires, unable to deny a wary fluttering in her chest. N-Vorl steps closer and takes Teresa¡¯s hand. He places the tiny glass canister on her palm and closes her fingers around it. ¡°It is elixir made from the flowers of a chruksh,¡± N-Vorl states candidly. ¡°It is reserved for only the elders and those of the higher caste. It helps us to remain focused and strong. My father grows many such trees. He does not miss a little¡­From time to time.¡± Teresa completely forgets the towel. She turns the glass container of liquid over in her hand. When she makes eye contact with N-Vorl again, she is halfway between a laugh and a sob. ¡°So¡­I was right?!?¡± Teresa exclaims, her suspicions finally confirmed. ¡°And you tried to convince me that you are not an elder!¡± ¡°I am not an elder!¡± N-Vorl replies. ¡°Elder Glandis is my father¡¯s brother. My father controls one of many habitats where the chruksh is cultivated. Nothing more.¡± ¡°Nothing more?!?¡± Dr. Boyd almost yells before catching herself. ¡°This explains a lot. For instance...I can¡¯t envision P¡¯taal getting away with half of the insubordination which Elder Glandis allows you to get away with. Questioning his orders and his authority. Ha. Elder Glandis would be eating P¡¯taal¡¯s liver for dinner. Who¡ªor what¡ªyour father is¡­Doesn¡¯t matter. You have the gene. I¡¯m willing to bet¡­Your father doesn¡¯t. Ha." This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Teresa twists her mouth into a teasing smirk and turns the tiny canister in her hand. "No wonder you¡¯re such an asshole! You¡¯re an army brat!¡± N-Vorl is unclear on what either an asshole or an army brat are. However, Teresa¡¯s tone of voice tells him that neither is a particularly good thing. He takes a mock menacing step in Dr. Boyd''s direction and places a hand under her chin. Lifting Teresa''s face, he lowers his own face to within a few inches. Her lips part in expectation, but N-Vorl hovers playfully over her. Teresa glares at him with equal playfulness. ¡°I wish you would not look at me in that way!¡± N-Vorl says. His eyes narrow to small slits. ¡°In what way?!¡± Teresa says, feigning ignorance. ¡°In the way that a hungry ghkivu observes its prey,¡± N-Vorl explains. Dr. Boyd toys with the mesh on N-Vorl¡¯s right bicep. She offers him another coy smile. ¡°You¡¯re going to have to start talking like we¡¯re from the same solar system. I have no idea what a ghkivu is!¡± Teresa says. Dr. Boyd¡¯s eyes are locked on N-Vorl¡¯s face and the smile remains on her lips. N-Vorl returns her smile, snaking an arm around her waist. ¡°A ghkivu is a large beast with many eyes and tentacles,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°It seeks out its prey in dark crevices underwater. Ghkivu use their many eyes to see where other beasts cannot. ¡°Ah. Then, I guess I¡¯d better do as you say!¡± Teresa teasingly scoffs. ¡°I don¡¯t want to scare you!¡± N-Vorl closes the distance between their faces even more. His mouth less than two inches from Teresa¡¯s. ¡°Do not stop!" N-Vorl says. "It makes me hungry as well!¡± ¡°Oh, dear!¡± Teresa says. ¡°That could be a problem. I like my liver right where it¡¯s at.¡± Enfolding N-Vorl¡¯s neck; Teresa brings their mouths into full contact. N-Vorl is reluctant to pull away as Teresa gently pushes at his chest. ¡°I have to get dressed,¡± Teresa says. ¡°I have a report to finish and they¡¯ll be back any time now.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± N-Vorl responds. He releases Teresa and backs away a couple of steps. ¡°You¡¯re more than welcome to stay,¡± Teresa says. She uses her teeth to pull another circular band off of her wrist and place it around her hair. ¡°If anyone asks¡­You can say you were simply doing your job.¡± Teresa performs another slow, one-eyed blink. N-Vorl has tried to perform the same action; with zero success. He does not try again. Instead, he leans against the wall. As Teresa dresses, she makes a melodious sound that is without words. N-Vorl listens intently. While the doctor is still very saddened by all that has happened. For now, she is also content. - - The hunting party returns over an hour later. Three new yautja warriors are now accompanying them¡ªsent down from the mothership to ensure Elder Glandis¡¯ safe return. Two of the previous guards were killed in this latest battle. However, the yautja¡¯s spirits are high. The air is filled with jubilation as Judas carapaces are polished to a spit-shine and crests are punched with holes¡ªto be placed triumphantly on the mesh suits of battle-seasoned warriors. Teresa watches this with fascination and weariness. The two fallen yaujta seem to have already been forgotten. Or maybe, this is how the yautja cope. By pretending it never happened, while reveling over the bodies of those beasts responsible. A kind of silent vengeance. Dr. Boyd stands to go into the lounge. The sights and sounds of revelry overloading her senses. These recent deaths have rattled her false security. A strong coffee is just what she needs. Glotis intercepts Teresa as she heads into the lounge. ¡°Doctor?¡± Glotis says. ¡°There is something I think you should know.¡± Teresa turns to face the yaujta scientist and her heart nearly leaps out of her chest. In Glotis¡¯ right hand, she holds the head of a Judas queen¡ªsuspended in a mesh net. ¡°We killed another queen. I thought you might want her head for a more thorough study of¡ª,¡± Glotis intones.
Dr. Boyd lets out a sharp gasp and backs away. Her face contorts in both terror and disgust. ¡°Why would you bring that to me?!¡± Teresa whispers hoarsely. ¡°Keep that away from me! I don¡¯t want it!¡± Teresa backs quickly away from Glotis. When she is a safe distance from the yautja female, and her haunting gift, Dr. Boyd turns and speed walks into the lounge. The image of Harold¡¯s distorted face is forever seared into her brain. Glotis swivels to face Elder Glandis, whose mandibles are clicking furiously. N-Vorl¡®s mind does battle with itself. He wants to run to Teresa. To comfort her. But he doesn¡¯t dare. Not yet. Chapter Thirty-Nine: Last Call For Departure
Countdown to Evacuation ¡°May I please have your attention¡­Lady and Yautja?¡± Dr. Boyd calls to Glotis and N-Vorl. Teresa carefully adjusts the angle of the camera inside holding tank thirteen before doing the same for holding tanks three and five. Glotis glides, more than walks, to stand beside Teresa¡¯s chair. While N-Vorl casually approaches both scientists, his muscular arms folded across his broad chest. Teresa is grateful that he stands some distance away. Pretending to be rival colleagues is becoming more and more difficult with each moment they spend together. No matter how those moments are spent. ¡°The reconnaissance bugs are nearly ready for release,¡± Dr. Boyd says. ¡°I¡¯ve outfitted three of the juveniles with nano-chips, frequency analyzers, and microcameras. With any luck, we¡¯ll be able to track them wherever they go in the ship. We¡¯ll also be able to observe any other Judases they encounter along the way. I¡¯ll start procedures to release the specimens within the hour. I only hope we maintain power despite the geothermic activity. However, if the ship does lose power; the microcameras have internal power cells. We¡¯ll only lose the ability to view what they see in real time. There¡¯s a slight delay¡­Using the app on my tablet¡­Of about three minutes. Either way, the cameras will continue to record footage, and then relay it back to ops once the ship¡¯s power is restored. The frequency analyzers are synced with the chips. As long as my tablet has power...I''ll constantly be receiving data. When you all return to the ship; it will be as if you never left. We¡¯ll immediately be able to resume our work¡­Using the data the cameras and chips provide.¡± Teresa gazes at her yautja shipmates with a wistful smile. ¡°Although, I do hope you all hurry back. I¡¯ve grown rather fond of you,¡± Teresa says. She only briefly glances in N-Vorl¡¯s direction. ¡°I don''t know those other yautja. Not really. And I¡¯m not looking forward to being alone on the ship with these insects.¡± Glotis catches the brief exchange between N-Vorl and Dr. Boyd. She absentmindedly taps a clawed finger on the edge of her medical device, and her mouth curls slightly. N-Vorl now has a secret of his own. How interesting. The doctor lied. There was no accident with the centrifuge. ¡°You will not be alone,¡± P¡¯taal says. The gentle-natured yautja enters the lab and strides in military fashion toward Teresa and Glotis. He stops on a line with his forbidden love. Glotis'' brow creases and she peers at P''taal inquisitively. ¡°N-Vorl and I have elected to stay behind. We will be replacing Elder Glandis'' usual guard. To ensure the project continues as planned.¡± Dr. Boyd believes the last part of P¡¯taal¡¯s statement is added to save face and make the two fearsome yautja appear hardened¡ªAnd not as soft as she knows them to be. Teresa nods gratefully.
¡°Thank you,¡± she says. Glotis is far from pleased. N-Vorl may have a vested interest in staying to protect the ooman, but P¡¯taal is her lover¡ªnot Teresa¡¯s. ¡°Why must you stay, P¡¯taal?!¡± Glotis exclaims. Her eyes fall on Dr. Boyd in an accusatory manner. ¡°What is this ooman to you?¡± ¡°We owe the doctor our lives. Many times over,¡± P¡¯taal explains. ¡°As she owes her life to us. We have each given and taken much. We have fought and won battles together. We have all lost many we cared about. I am not the only one who believes it would be a great dishonor to abandon the doctor now.¡± This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. N-Vorl unfolds his arms and nods his head. ¡°This is true,¡± N-Vorl says. His voice is strong and unwavering. ¡°Dr. Boyd saved my life. Even after I threatened to take hers. I have informed Elder Glandis¡­That I will not leave the ooman doctor behind. So, if we cannot take Dr. Boyd to the ship¡­I will remain here with her.¡± Teresa resists the urge to turn to N-Vorl and thank him profusely. She understands that performing such an act may jeopardize N-Vorl¡¯s already delicate standing amongst his own kind. As he has said before, some things are just not done. N-Vorl is destined to be a great leader. Who is she to stand in the way of destiny? P¡¯taal moves to embrace Glotis, but she holds up a hand. The yautja scientist is beyond inconsolable. She hides her bitter emotions under a mask of indignation. ¡°There is no need to comfort or convince me,¡± Glotis says. ¡°This is my project as well. I will see it to completion. If you stay¡­I will stay also.¡± As if on cue, the sound of many heavy footfalls reaches Teresa¡¯s ears. She glances at each yautja in the room, a saddened expression creeping onto her countenance. The time has come for the others to leave. ¡°That sounds like the last bus out,¡± Teresa says with a soft chuckle. ¡°If you¡¯re leaving the station¡­Now¡¯s the time.¡± Glotis folds both arms over her bosom and offers Dr. Boyd a wide yautja smile. ¡°We yautja do not run at the simple prospect of danger,¡± Glotis says in a business-like tone. ¡°Glandis¡¯ decision to return to the ship is not a retreat. The yautja who go back will live to work and fight another day. Should something happen to us¡­They will continue where we failed.¡± Teresa scrunches up her face and shakes her head disagreeably. ¡°I know there was supposed to be a motivational speech in there somewhere, Glotis,¡± Teresa exclaims. ¡°I¡¯m just not seeing it. But¡­Thank you for staying behind anyway. All of you.¡± Silence fills the room. After a brief moment, Teresa climbs to her feet. The four occupants head for the main laboratory, in order to see Elder Glandis off and wish him luck. - - Elsewhere in the human sphere General Ilyian Rodrigo leans over an expansive navigation console. He glares down at the large screen, and then peers at the young marine seated in front of it. The young woman squirms under his fierce gaze, trying desperately to avoid eye contact. "Where was the California when contact was first lost?" General Rodrigo roars. Speaking loudly is a hallmark of General Rodrigo. A seventh generation military man, there was never a soft word spoken in his household. Save those of his ailing mother. She had always been sickly, always been frail, and he''d hated her for it. It''d driven a much younger Rodrigo crazy to watch his strong muscled father feed, clean, and clothe such a worthless bag of skin and bones. Nevertheless, his father had loved the wretched whore until the end. The young private behind the navigations console reminds him a lot of his mother. Her thin frame, mousey brown hair, and round soft eyes. Even the sound of her voice is like his mother''s. No force, no strength of will. People like Private Malone only join because they have no choice. Because they have overflowing debts, family obligations, or are hoping to escape a life of crime, sex, or poverty. Truth be told, Private Malone would be better off polishing a pole. The general glowers down at his subordinate as she scrambles for the requested information. Her slender fingers fly across the keyboard and tap figures on the computer''s touchscreen. The young private speaks as she searches for the exact data he requested. "The last anyone heard of the California, she was near the fourth moon of Celstus. Just outside the Alterran Sector. She was headed¡ª," General Rodrigo cuts the young woman off with a vigorous headshake. "I don''t need to know where she was headed, Private!" Rodrigo yells, clenching a fist behind the console. "I want to know her last known coordinates. That is all. Bring up the exact coordinates. That''s where we will begin our search." "Yes, Sir!" Private Malone says and retrieves the necessary information from the computer. Rodrigo stands to his full height and crosses his arms over his barrel chest. They should never have allowed women into the military. Chapter Forty: When You Wake
Main Lab 4 hours before geomagnetic storm arrives Glotis is seated at the late Bess Trainor¡¯s desktop computer. The yautja female''s hands fly across the screen of her wrist interface. A rigged apparatus allows Glotis¡¯ wrist device and the human computer to communicate, and a translation of sorts appears on the device. Glotis is satisfied with what she sees and continues to sort through the data. Dr. Boyd watches Glotis for a moment before going back to her own work. N-Vorl, ever like a shadow in Teresa''s wake, stands near the wall. He watches the two scientists with more interest than Teresa would expect from a warrior or an engineer. Or an elder. Eventually, N-Vorl approaches Teresa¡¯s work station, while glancing furtively over at Glotis. ¡°What progress has been made?¡± N-Vorl inquires in an artificially flat tone. Teresa can see through the veil of N-Vorl¡¯s feigned disinterest. There is a lot more to this yautja warrior than meets the eye. Every layer she unravels reveals yet another. However, with enough time, she may finally uncover the true N-Vorl. Though not as easily as he had laid bare her fleshly form, while they made love atop a bed of surgical linens. Teresa looks up at N-Vorl and then points to the computer screen. ¡°I¡¯ve mapped the genes for...,¡± Teresa begins. She skims over her notes and then returns her attention to the onscreen image. Sneaking a peek at N-Vorl, Teresa adjusts in her seat. ¡°...Specimens twenty-three and eighteen. I¡¯m in the process of generating a computer simulation of what a hybrid creature¡ªWith the characteristics Glotis and I have chosen¡ªWould look and behave like," Teresa states. Dr. Boyd presses a button on her desktop keyboard and a 3D rendering of the proposed hybrid appears on the screen. The image is of a large creature with eight jointed legs, four sets of owl-like eyes set in a face covered with pinkish tentacles, and a beak made of shiny black chitin. The creature¡¯s buglike legs are also black chitin, tipped with dangerously sharp talons. A tail like that of a giant scorpion curls over the onscreen monster¡¯s body. ¡°Meet Titan Zero¡± Teresa says with a grim smile. ¡°In a little over two hours, we can start experimentation with live embryos. Unless, we find something that needs¡­Improvement.¡± Teresa scrolls away from the image of the ferocious hybrid and brings N-Vorl¡¯s attention to another subject. She wags a finger playfully in the air. ¡°I do have some good news,¡± Dr. Boyd says, unable to hide her excitement. ¡°The cameras on the released juveniles are working perfectly. Although, they''re not juveniles anymore. With the nano-chips, I¡¯m able to track them throughout the facility. Right now, they seem to be congregating near the transport hangar. If they leave the ship, I may lose tracking ability once they go out of range. But should they meet up with other Judases¡­While inside the ship¡­I¡¯ll be able to track those as well. Via the camera feeds. I call that great news.¡± N-Vorl nods his head, and there is a twinkle in his eye. Teresa steeples her fingers and stares at N-Vorl. ¡°N-Vorl?¡± Dr. Boyd whispers discreetly. ¡°Since I¡¯m not a complete idiot¡­How exactly did you figure out¡­What you figured out¡­About my research?¡± N-Vorl¡¯s mandibles open and shut rapidly. He glances at Glotis, who is absorbed in genetic research of her own, and then back at Teresa. ¡°This is not a discussion we should have here,¡± N-Vorl says in a husky whisper. ¡°Agreed,¡± Teresa admits. ¡°Another time, then?¡± ¡°Yes. Another time,¡± N-Vorl replies. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Dr. Boyd shrugs and shuffles her eyebrows. A gesture which N-Vorl finds more than a little amusing. ¡°Okay,¡± Teresa says. She goes back to the 3D simulation of the beaked, tentacled creature and presses a few buttons. The image shifts and a computerized voice narrates the strange hybrid¡¯s strengths, weaknesses, and other attributes. All scientific mumbo jumbo that would bore the average person enough to warrant a night of strong drink. However, Dr. Boyd listens carefully, scribbling furiously on the tablet with her stylus. N-Vorl watches her work, taking in every word the computer is saying. - - Transport Hangar Three hours before storm arrives The three Judases Dr. Boyd outfitted with cameras and trackers roam through the transport hangar¡ªsearching for others of their kind. They are slightly bigger than when they were first released and the crest of the largest one has the beginnings of a distorted face. At this stage, the face on the hybrid roach¡¯s armored crest appears neither human nor yautja. The young queen continues to sniff the area, zigging and zagging across the metal floor. Her long antenna float in the air, and she stops every few steps to reorient herself. Her two siblings follow closely behind. Approaching an intersecting corridor, the young queen stops completely. The trio of roaches exchange antenna wags and then go to the left. - - The Lounge Three hours before storm arrives Teresa brings the rim of the piping hot mug of coffee to her lips. She observes the movements of the trio of Judases, via her tablet computer, with an arched eyebrow. N-Vorl sits at a table opposite her. Teresa glances up at him and can¡¯t help but smile. The rugged yautja hunter looks so out of place amongst the plush benches and striped tablecloths. Teresa gathers up her belongings and moves to the table where N-Vorl is seated. He peers silently in her direction. The only part on his body which moves is his eyes. Teresa drops down on the bench across from him, placing her items on the tabletop. ¡°Is this a good time?¡± Teresa asks in a quiet voice. ¡°I want to know how you knew I was¡­Planning to use yautja DNA for my research. How did you know where I had gotten it?¡±
N-Vorl seems to consider his next words. Imitating Teresa¡¯s usual mannerisms, N-Vorl steeples his hands and leans forward. His large elbows rest on the edge of the table. ¡°You and certain members of Glotis'' team¡­Are not the only scientists here,¡± N-Vorl says definitively. The revelation hits Teresa right between the eyes and her mouth hangs slack. She leans forward as well, her voice dropping even lower. ¡°Wait a minute. Are you telling me¡ª,¡± Teresa exclaims. ¡°Yes. On my native habitat, I completed an apprenticeship as a cultivator. What oomans might call a chemist. With a little botany and biology included. After all, one must know just how much sloso will entice and intoxicate... Without risking complete paralysis or death for your subject. My orders were to watch over you¡­To ensure that you did not betray us,¡± N-Vorl explains. ¡°This much, you already know. I hid my level of knowledge from you so that you might become complacent. Confident in the false belief that I was ignorant and unable to uncover any evidence of deceit.¡± Teresa¡¯s eyes search N-Vorl¡¯s face and her brow furrows. N-Vorl stares back, his expression blank and devoid of emotion. ¡°You¡¯re just full of surprises,¡± Teresa intones. ¡°So¡­Why didn¡¯t you inform Elder Glandis? Why let me know you were aware of what I was doing at all?¡± ¡°Because you were correct,¡± N-Vorls says cryptically. ¡°In your belief that I wanted more. I am a hunter¡­A warrior.¡± ¡°Amongst other things¡­,¡± Teresa retorts. A sly smile creeping onto her visage. N-Vorl¡¯s eyes narrow but he continues what he was saying before Teresa¡¯s interruption. Omitting the less obvious details regarding his motivations. ¡°I am a warrior. A warrior does not shy away because a mission is too unpleasant,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°I believe what you have done has merit. A prey animal that can hunt as well as any yautja¡­Is a most worthy adversary. I think Elder Glandis can be brought around to the merits of your ideas as well.¡± ¡°And if he cannot?¡± Teresa asks. ¡°Then, you and I may have nothing to look forward to but an unpleasant death,¡± N-Vorl says. Teresa considers everything that N-Vorl has said. Sliding her hand across the table, she rests it atop his much larger hand. N-Vorl glances down at Dr. Boyd¡¯s hand, and then up at her face. After what seems like forever, N-Vorl slowly raises his hand enough so that he can slip his fingers between Teresa¡¯s. Dr. Boyd briefly studies their clasped hands. She uncoils her fingers from N-Vorl¡¯s and rises to her feet. He does the same, adjusting his massive bulk and peering at Teresa with half-lidded eyes. ¡°I¡¯m going to get some rest. An hour at most,¡± Teresa says. ¡°I want to be alert¡­When the disturbance gets here.¡± N-Vorl walks around the table and strides to where Dr. Boyd stands. She gazes up into his face, and he gazes down into hers. Teresa¡¯s eyes watch N-Vorl¡¯s hands as he cups either side of her face. ¡°I will be here¡­When you wake,¡± N-Vorl utters in a low voice. Teresa¡¯s gaze wanders to the recessed coffee maker and food processor. To the place where she and N-Vorl had their first one-on-one encounter. Where she had once considered clobbering him with an empty coffee mug. How things have changed. Letting her eyes wander around the room, Teresa finally returns her gaze to N-Vorl¡¯s face.
¡°I know you will,¡± Teresa replies. She is in no way surprised when N-Vorl bends forward and kisses her tenderly. Sliding her arm around his waist, she closes her eyes as he mimics her actions. An ironic chuckle, escapes her lips. Chapter Forty-One: Sentry Duty
Countdown to stormfront P¡¯taal is stationed at the main entrance to the lab. One of his legs is propped up on a metal footlocker left behind by a deceased colonial marine. He dutifully watches the video feed above the door. For now, the corridor leading to the science wing is empty. P''taal is pretty sure that will not be the case later. Glotis has returned to the quarters she and P¡¯taal have shared since Glandis¡¯ departure. Teresa glances at the door to the room where Glotis is resting and then strolls over to P¡¯taal. She offers him a cup of black coffee. Surprisingly enough, the yautja warrior has taken a liking to the bitter stuff. After gulping down a fresh cup, the first night the yautja set up HQ in the ooman labs, P''taal has been hooked. For her part, Teresa can¡¯t stand coffee without at least a couple teaspoons of sugar in it. Once again, Teresa finds herself studying the somewhat gentle giant. His passive demeanor is completely contrary to the fierce warrior he has proven himself to be. Many of the scientific samples in the lab, including an oothecae taken straight from the nest of a now dispatched queen, were obtained by P''taal. The other yautja were mostly concerned with hunting and gathering trophies. P''taal is an interesting yautja. His motivations hard to flesh out. There is only one thing, Teresa knows for sure. She is glad he is on her side. ¡°Here you go,¡± Dr. Boyd says with a smile. ¡°It¡¯s fresh.¡± P¡¯taal takes the mug of coffee from Teresa¡¯s hand, and raises it to where she assumes a nose would be¡ªif yautja had noses. She watches as his mandibles draw open and apart. The bulky yautja¡¯s mouthparts grip the cup and pull it closer to his mouth. Even after watching P¡¯taal perform this ritual many times, Teresa is still quite fascinated by it. She waits for P''taal to take a sip of coffee, and lower the mug, before offering him another warm smile. ¡°There¡¯s more where that came from. I made a whole pot,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be sleeping much once the storm moves in. It¡¯s good that Glotis and N-Vorl are resting. We¡¯ll need everyone at peak performance in case the power goes out. When¡¯s the last time you slept, P¡¯taal?¡± A memory floats to the front of Teresa¡¯s mind and she nearly sobs. Harold Bashir, his hazel eyes dancing as he drove Chief Engineer Theodore McAvoy¡¯s head into the metal table. Harold Bashir gently taking her hand and encouraging her to believe in herself. Harold Bashir, telling her to slow down and take a step back¡ªto ask herself where her research was going and why. Imploring her to rest. Harold Bashir, the engineer, and the best lab technician she had ever been privileged to know. Harold Bashir, the man she had only begun to love. Harold Bashir. Dead now. Dr. Boyd shifts her weight uncomfortably and meets P¡¯taal¡¯s gaze. She crosses both arms over her chest. P''taal watches Teresa with soft, intelligent eyes. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
¡°Why did you stay, P¡¯taal? You must have known that Glotis would elect to stay as well. She doesn¡¯t need to be here. She should have returned with the others. This situation has the potential to go really bad. You don¡¯t owe me anything,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Some things are about more than desire. They are about duty,¡± P¡¯taal says. A stern expression transforms his usually placid countenance. ¡°What duty? To the project? A mission? Do you not have a duty to Glotis? She''s your lover. I''m nothing to you,¡± Teresa inquires. ¡°And besides...She''s Elder Glandis'' sister. Do you really think he will look kindly upon the hunter who allowed his sister to be torn apart by ferocious monsters? All to protect an ooman female? I seriously doubt that this is the way to get into Glandis¡¯ good graces. Assuming any of us survive this.¡± P¡¯taal turns his face away, holding the mug of coffee in a clawed hand. There is an uncomfortable lull in conversation as P''taal stares toward the opposite wall. ¡°P¡¯taal?¡± Teresa calls to him. When P¡¯taal turns back to Dr. Boyd; there is a weary expression on his face. ¡°I did not believe that Glotis would choose to stay behind. However, she has always been dedicated to her work,¡± P¡¯taal says. ¡°She and I¡­Can never be more than what we are. She is promised to another.¡± Teresa¡¯s eyes widen and her mouth falls open slightly. ¡°Promised to another? But¡­You mean¡ª,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Yes. If Elder Glandis knows of our affair¡­He has not been forthcoming about it,¡± P¡¯taal says. ¡°Were me and Glotis to be found out, she might be stripped of her title. She would lose her place as Elder Wife.¡± ¡°Wait. So, Glotis is to marry Glandis?¡± Teresa says, unable to keep her mouth from forming a disbelieving grimace. ¡°No,¡± P¡¯taal says patiently. ¡°She will marry the Elder-Apparent of a neighboring clan. Once he has completed his final blooding and ascends to his father¡¯s throne.¡± ¡°That¡­Sounds a lot better,¡± Teresa says with a soft chuckle. ¡°Still a little screwed up. From a female point of view. But less screwed up than marrying her older brother. Does that happen all the time? The whole¡­Arranged marriage thing? Seems real backwards for a culture that prides itself on an elaborate honor system.¡± ¡°Not often,¡± P¡¯taal says, souring on the subject. ¡°But often enough.¡± ¡°So where does that leave you, P¡¯taal?¡± Teresa says. She gently takes the large yautja warrior¡¯s hand and squeezes it. ¡°What happens to you when this is all said and done? Don¡¯t tell me this is some suicidal backup plan if you can¡¯t have Glotis. I won¡¯t allow it.¡± P¡¯taal manages a wide yautja smile and takes another deep drink of his coffee. Warm now. ¡°No. I don¡¯t think you will,¡± P¡¯taal admits. ¡°And as far as what becomes of me...I will be no better off and no worse than when I first heard the news of Glotis¡¯ betrothal. I will continue on. Without her.¡± Teresa smiles wistfully and squeezes the big yautja¡¯s hand a second time. A fading memory of Harold¡¯s bright smile and gentle voice invades her heart and her mind. ¡°I am so sorry, P¡¯taal,¡± she says. And she means it.
- - The edge of the geothermic disturbance arrives on schedule. Small fluctuations in the ship¡¯s systems begin to occur. A flicker of a light here, a glitchy computer screen there, a lift briefly losing power. However, there are no humans present to witness these tiny fluctuations. Judas hybrids, are a different story. In the communications and habitat wings; two hives are gearing up for battle. Like obedient subjects; the larvae, juveniles, and smaller adult Judases swarm around their respective queens in anticipation. Wings vibrate and the air becomes almost alive with movement. Some of the Judases wink in and out, confusing even their insectile brethren, bumping clumsily into each other. The largest specimens stand guard around the perimeter, massive mandibles and forelegs gnashing or waving. The colossal queen Judas, housed in the habitat wing, lowers her head to consume a proffered meal. The retractable armored crest, which protects her head, bearing a striking resemblance to Elder Glandis. Chapter Forty-Two: What is He Doing Here?
Lab Room Five N-Vorl lies unmoving on the air mattress in his formerly shared quarters. With his warrior roommate gone--and safely aboard Elder Glandis'' flagship, N-Vorl is able to think clearly for the first time in days. Despite his growing affection and admiration for Teresa, N-Vorl''s hopes concerning a worthy hunt opponent have dimmed. If the ooman should eventually become heavy with his descendants, it may create serious complications. For himself, for the project, and for the clan. Some things are not done. With good reason. What role would such a hybrid serve in yautja society? What role will Teresa serve when the project is complete? Would he be expected to hunt one of his own blood? These are questions he had not considered. In that moment, only the taste and scent of the doctor''s flesh had mattered. When he''d proposed the idea of dealing with Teresa, Elder Glandis had suggested that all things come in due time. What does that mean for the ooman scientist? N-Vorl shakes his head and chitters defiantly. His feelings for Teresa have transformed since their first mating. Every time he holds her in the crook of his arm, he is consumed by a growing desire to protect her. As he would a female of his own kind. Despite their initial period of seemingly mutual animosity, they have shared so much of themselves with each other. Maybe too much. For the first time, N-Vorl feels truly accepted. Not by his own kind, but by the very ooman he had once been adamant to destroy. While caught up in her embrace, his anger--at the unfairness of his youth--subsides. His shame at his father''s unfortunate blunder--which cost N''bril the title of Clan Elder--no longer matters. All that matters is Teresa. N-Vorl''s mandibles draw apart and he grins his usual yautja grin. Anyone seeing the massive warrior might think him crazy. And they wouldn''t be entirely wrong. Desire ripples through N-Vorl like a raging forest fire. He calms it by closing his eyes, willing himself to sleep. Only to dream of her. - - Glotis is once again seated at Bess Trainor¡¯s old workstation when the lights flicker. The female yautja turns calmly in her chair to face Dr. Boyd. The blank expression on Glotis¡¯ face is almost humorous. Teresa is reminded of an old Earth television show¡ªStar Trek¡ªand the emotionless Mr. Spock. A million things must be going through Glotis¡¯ head, but she refuses to show it. ¡°It¡¯s the front edge of the geostorm,¡± Teresa says. ¡°We¡¯ll probably experience a few systems hiccups. Even a regular thunderstorm can sometimes knock out power. No biggie. The California can handle just about anything. I can monitor some of the major systems from here. Thanks to the interface set up by our saboteur, Mr. McAvoy. Any major power fluctuations and I¡¯ll know. I¡¯m switching to auxiliary power for non-essential systems and rerouting power to the lab¡¯s security network. Worst-case scenario ¡­We may have to go out and reroute a few power conduits. I don¡¯t foresee anything like that happening.¡± ¡°Just as you did not foresee the saboteur upon your ship? Or the rapid uncontrolled evolution of your insect creations?¡± Glotis counters. There is a sharp edge to Glotis¡¯ voice. Teresa¡¯s eyes narrow as she studies her female companion. Glotis has never shown her even a hint of open hostility. This new behavior strikes Teresa as very odd. Is she still angry about P''taal''s refusal to leave the ship? Or is there something more? The pheromones from the new blood serum. Could they be affecting Glotis negatively? This is one wrinkle she had not considered. But it makes perfect sense, biologically. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Glotis? I don¡¯t understand. Have I done something to offend you?¡± Teresa questions. ¡°Everything about your fragile ooman nature is offensive,¡± Glotis hisses. ¡°You travel all over the galaxy¡­Taking and destroying. Changing flourishing worlds to suit your purposes and mining other worlds so that you may continue to spread your ooman filth to every corner of the universe.¡± ¡°Wait¡­,¡± Teresa says, holding up a hand. ¡°You¡¯re the descendant of a race of superhunters¡­Hellbent on remaking an entire planet to slake your warrior bloodlust. And you accuse humans of changing things to suit our purposes? Have you looked in a mirror lately?¡± Glotis climbs angrily to her feet. Though not as impressively armored as her male counterparts, Glotis is still equally frightening. She strides to where Teresa is seated at her workstation. The towering yautja female glares down at the human with pure anger behind her gray eyes.
¡°Because of you¡­P¡¯taal may die,¡± Glotis growls in a raspy voice. ¡°Because of you¡­We all may die. And there will be nothing honorable about our deaths. We will die defending the brainchild project of a fragile incompetent ooman.¡± Tears well in Dr. Boyd¡¯s eyes and she fights back the fierce words which threaten to spring from her throat. This is exactly how she had felt, watching what was left of Harold¡¯s mutilated body fall to the ground. She had hated herself so much in that moment. However, the feeling had been even worse, watching one of her creations literally tear Bess Trainor in half. Blood and guts, from the terrified lab assistant, spraying over Teresa¡¯s face and body. Who would argue that Dr. Teresa Boyd is indeed a competent scientist? Even she doesn¡¯t believe it anymore. So many failures. An entire ship full of passengers, crew, and colonial marines. All dead. That was why she had agreed to work alongside the yautja warriors. To redeem herself. To make right all that had gone wrong. To salvage some small degree of creditability. And maybe then, she could live with herself. It will be the most supreme of poetic justice, when she breathes her last. At the sharpened foreleg of a mutant Judas. Teresa refuses to take the angry yautja scientist¡¯s bait. She calmly returns to her work, heart beating rapidly in her chest. Glotis continues to glare down at Dr. Boyd, one clawed hand clenched into a tight fist at her side. ¡°P¡¯taal is a warrior, Glotis. He does not need to be told what he must do. Certainly not by me,¡± Teresa says. She is careful not to make eye contact with Glotis. ¡°I don¡¯t know what else you want me to say. I¡¯ve lost people too. Friends, colleagues¡­Lovers. I will miss them always. I never asked any of you to stay. It would have been better if you had not. I hope you can believe that.¡± Some of the fire goes out of Glotis and she takes a step backward. As if on cue, the lights flicker and there is a loud banging on the main doors. Teresa hastily climbs to her feet. She and Glotis are side by side when they turn to the main entrance of the lab. Reaching down and grabbing her tablet computer, Teresa enters a command. The camera feed from the hallway appears on her screen. The hallway leading to the lab is uncharacteristically dark. However, even in the dim light, Dr. Boyd can make out the shape of an injured yautja. One arm clearly missing, and a horrid gash across his broad chest¡ªeven the thick metal of his breastplate is damaged. ¡°Oh my god!¡± Teresa exclaims. ¡°Glotis¡­Who is that?¡± Teresa points at the image on the screen, and Glotis stares down at the tablet in disbelief. ¡°That is Mau-Nis. He is Glandis¡¯ second-in-command,¡± Glotis explains. ¡°But what is he doing here?¡± Teresa stares harder at the image on the screen. It is indeed Elder Glandis'' second-in-command standing alone outside the lab''s main doors. The lights flicker again. This time, the lights stay off for nearly ten seconds. Teresa turns to Glotis and motions toward the door. N-Vorl and P¡¯taal enter the lab at that very moment. ¡°We have to let him in,¡± Teresa says. ¡°The scent of his blood will lead any nearby Judases to our position. We need to get him inside and patch him up.¡± Chapter Forty-Three: Hatching A Plan
Mau-Nis is barely conscious as he lies atop one of the lab tables. Dr. Boyd is in Lab Room Seven, hastily adjusting settings on the med pod to get the device to accommodate the big yautja¡¯s physiology. She now wishes she had devoted more time to the task before everything hit the fan. Finally finding settings she believes will work, Teresa races back to the main lab. ¡°The table has wheels,¡± Teresa cries. ¡°Pull down the lever on the right side and roll it in here. Hurry! He¡¯s lost a lot of blood.¡± P¡¯taal and N¡¯Vorl do as Teresa instructs. Glotis walks behind the lab table, constantly caressing the injured Mau-Nis¡¯ blood-streaked face. The pair of male yautja heft Mau-Nis up and into the med pod. The pod is a tight squeeze, even for the slightly thinner Mau-Nis. Height being the main issue, the commander''s feet barely clear the bottom of the med pod. As soon as Mau-Nis is nestled securely inside, Teresa inputs the order for the lid to close. She immediately types another command for the pod to administer painkillers, staunch all bleeding, and cauterize the wounded stump of Mau-Nis¡¯ right arm. A pale light traverses the entirety of Mau-Nis¡¯ prone body, assessing him for other injuries. The four companions watch the med pod work. Teresa is just happy it is working at all. She runs a hand through her unkempt black hair and plops down on the edge of the nearby table. ¡°How is this possible?¡± Teresa says, speaking through steepled fingers in front of her lips. ¡°How is he even here? He left with Elder Glandis. Shouldn¡¯t he be back on your mothership?¡± When none of the yautja are forthcoming, Teresa drops her hands and stares at them all. Her blood freezes in her veins. ¡°You did hear back from Elder Glandis? I mean¡­They did make it back to the ship? Right?¡± Teresa presses. ¡°We don¡¯t know,¡± P¡¯taal finally says in a deep voice. ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± Teresa inquires. Her voice rises several octaves. ¡°What do you mean, you don¡¯t know?" Teresa demands. "I thought you all have suit to suit communication? You didn¡¯t check up on him? Make sure he made it back to the ship safely?¡± ¡°It is not our habit to¡­Check up on our Elders,¡± N-Vorl hisses with slight indignation. ¡°He is our leader. A warrior. Every yautja goes into battle knowing that it could be his last.¡± ¡°But he wasn¡¯t going into battle, N-Vorl!¡± Dr. Boyd argues. She points angrily at the ceiling of the lab. ¡°He was returning to your ship! Without any idea of what he may have been up against. And there were what¡­Nine of your people with him? What chance do we have of getting out of here¡­If they didn¡¯t?¡± The lights flicker yet again. The massive disturbance swiftly moving over the downed human ship¡¯s position. Dr. Boyd glances over at the med pod¡ªwilling the power to stay constant enough to keep the lifesaving device running. ¡°What about your mothership? Will they have already moved to a higher orbit? Will they even be there when¡­If we emerge from this ship?¡± Teresa inquires. ¡°It is hard to say,¡± N-Vorl admits. ¡°During a mission or hunt¡­It is customary to maintain communications silence. I do not know if they are aware that Elder Glandis may be dead. Unless he gave a command to the contrary, they may have remained in low orbit. At least, until they had no choice but to leave.¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°So¡­If your kind believes we have failed,¡± Teresa says with a stab of regret. ¡°There may no longer be a ship up there?¡± ¡°That is correct,¡± Glotis says with finality. Dr. Boyd steeples her hands and lowers her face into them. Closing both eyes, she takes a deep breath¡ªcentering herself. ¡°But they will come back?¡± Teresa inquires hopefully. Mentally crossing her fingers for luck. ¡°If they return,¡± P¡¯taal ventures to say. ¡°They may sterilize the entire area. Vengeance for Elder Glandis¡¯ death would be foremost on their list of objectives.¡± ¡°Unless, they have reason to believe there is someone to return for,¡± N-Vorl adds almost reassuringly. Teresa is certain he only added this final thought for her benefit. She glances over at the med pod, which has finally managed to get Mau-Nis¡¯ bleeding under control. ¡°He traveled quite a distance to get back here,¡± Teresa says wearily. ¡°You can tell by the color and flaking of the blood on his body. Whatever attacked him, it never showed up on either of the cameras. I¡¯ve been watching. The attack had to have occurred before we set the juveniles free. They never planned on evacuating. They went out on a search. Or¡­Maybe¡­,¡± Teresa stands from her perch on the table. Snatching up her tablet, she hustles out of Lab Room Seven. - - Mau-Nis wakes up with a start. He tries to use his right arm to sit up, only to remember that it is no longer there. Teresa is seated on a chair nearby. She pulls her chair closer to the injured warrior¡¯s side, and mops his forehead with a moist towel¡ªwiping away remnants of blood from around his prickly hairs. ¡°We did what we could,¡± Teresa says. She meets the yautja¡¯s drugged gaze. ¡°You still need rest. Don¡¯t move around too much. The med pod is feeding you nutrients to speed up your healing process. Try to remain still.¡± Mau-Nis looks up into the ooman face floating above him, wanting to speak¡ªbut not finding his voice. The brave warrior¡¯s eyes blink several times, and then fall shut. He is asleep in less than thirty seconds. Teresa continues to carefully clean his face. N-Vorl strolls into the lab, staring up at the light fixture as the power drops off again. He moves to the table where Teresa is seated and sits down as well. He watches her through narrowed eyes. ¡°You believe we are going to die,¡± N-Vorl says rhetorically. ¡°I have sensed it on you since your angry outburst an hour ago. You have said very little since that time. It is very unlike you.¡± ¡°There isn¡¯t much to say,¡± Teresa mutters softly. ¡°I doomed us all with this¡­Disgusting experiment. I was warned¡­And I didn¡¯t listen. I thought I could do better than those who came before me. I thought it would be an honor to stand on the shoulders of giants and claim a scientific victory. I was wrong.¡±
¡°Sitting here¡­Feeling sorry for yourself¡­Isn¡¯t going to help!¡± N-Vorl says in a stern voice. ¡°We need solutions. Not self-pity.¡± For a moment, Teresa¡¯s temper flares red hot. She turns to peer at N-Vorl and her anger melts away. The yautja warrior is actually smiling¡ªif you can call that a smile. Having achieved his desired reaction, N-Vorl¡¯s eyes narrow even further. ¡°Do you have a solution?¡± N-Vorl says. Teresa is silent for a moment. Then, she points to the device on N-Vorl¡¯s wrist. ¡°That device¡­It''s also a bomb?¡± Teresa asks. ¡°Yes,¡± N-Vorls confirms. ¡°We destroy the ship. It¡¯s that simple. Don¡¯t tell me you haven¡¯t already thought about it. Isn¡¯t that like you guy¡¯s thing? The conflagration is sure to alert your warriors in orbit that something is terribly wrong. Maybe they¡¯ll come back to investigate. Maybe they won¡¯t. Even if a few specimens have already escaped¡­We¡¯ll still stand a better chance of survival on the planet¡¯s surface. We have to assume Elder Glandis¡­Isn¡¯t coming back. Your people need to know. You and Glotis¡­Need to be on that mothership.¡± The lab¡¯s power chooses that exact moment to shut off almost completely. Only the systems Dr. Boyd rerouted power to remain functional. N-Vorl¡¯s face hardens and he stares at Teresa with a stern expression. ¡°We cannot destroy the ooman ship from here,¡± N-Vorl says. ¡°The blast would most certainly kill us. However, many of your creations may very well survive. I will not allow these abominations to continue to exist. Not while they wear the faces of my elder and kin.¡± ¡°I know,¡± Teresa says with a deep sigh. ¡°I may have a plan for that as well.¡± Reaching out a hand, Teresa¡¯s heart races when N-Vorl grasps it in his own. N-Vorl¡¯s fingers tighten around Teresa¡¯s slender hand and he considers drawing her to him. Only the knowledge that Mau-Nis lies ill a short distance away, deters him from doing so. He settles for raising his opposite hand to cradle the side of Dr. Boyd¡¯s face. No words are spoken. No words are necessary. Teresa caresses N-Vorl¡¯s hand, which rests on her cheek, and her stomach drops. She cannot shake the feeling that the end is very near. Chapter Forty-Four: Prototype
Dr. Boyd leads N-Vorl to a large metal locker set into the wall of the employee lounge. A yellow sign on the locker reads: ¡®Authorized Personnel Only. Any other use will result in criminal prosecution.¡¯ Teresa motions to the locker with a dramatic wave of her hand. ¡°Now, if you will be so kind as to shoot the lock off with your nifty shoulder gun¡­We can implement stage one,¡± Teresa says with a grin. She is barely able to make out N-Vorl¡¯s face in the dim light of the room, but she can discern the soft clicking of his mandibles. The enormous yautja aims his shoulder cannon at the locking mechanism and fires. The locker¡¯s metal door flies off with a shower of sparks. Teresa shields her face from the brightness and glances back at the now open locker. She springs forward, once the heat has subsided, and rummages through the locker. Tucked inside the locker are various forms of weapons and explosives. Orville rifles, Harr rifles, a couple of M1 rifles, blocks of an experimental explosive substance called metracite, and other explosives. Teresa looks over one shoulder at N-Vorl. ¡°The company ordered these weapons stored in here in case we were ever boarded and needed to put down a few enemies. The goal would be to get as many out and head for the escape pods. Leaving nothing of the ship behind. What the company didn¡¯t count on was Chief Engineer Theodore McAvoy. As much as I hated that man¡­He knew his way around a ship. Disabling the ship¡¯s primary systems and security¡­Was probably like a walk in the park for him. No one who knew this arsenal was here¡­With the exception of Security Chief Crews¡­Made it back to this part of the ship before your group arrived.¡± What Dr. Boyd conveniently forgets to include in her explanation, is a nagging theory that Security Chief Crews may have returned in an effort to save her. However, by that time, she and Bess had already left the labs. Looking for him. Teresa grabs a few blocks of metracite and a detonator. She hands them to N-Vorl. She makes sure to gently touch his hand as she passes him the materials. ¡°You see? If I¡¯d wanted you dead, N-Vorl¡­I could have done it a long time ago,¡± Teresa says with a sly grin. ¡°Pretty much since Day One. Except for one teensy weensy problem. The company never bothered to give me security clearance to open the damn locker. How silly of them. By the time I managed to get this thing open....My mini-war would have been over before it was waged. I''m not that suicidal." Teresa chews on her inner jaw and gazes briefly into space. She can almost feel Security Chief Crews'' hand gently sliding under her chin. She issues a tiny sigh before continuing. "In truth, I wasn''t supposed to know these weapons even exist. Something about: ''making sure I didn''t prematurely terminate any test subjects''. Guess the people in charge were worried I might get cold feet. But, the security chief and I were...Rather close. He wanted me to know I was safe and in good hands. Looking through our saboteur¡¯s work logs¡­I don¡¯t think he knew the weapons were here either. Oh well. Time to put all that awesome yautja engineering I keep hearing about to good use. There are two¡­Possibly three main hives. One in communications¡­One in the habitat wing¡­And one in the transport hangar. The transport hangar is our way out. We set charges strategically around the ship. We hit the habitat wing first, then communications, then the transport hangar.¡± Teresa grips N-Vorl¡¯s arm and strokes the closed lid of his wrist device. She studies the intricate patterns on its surface--wishing she had time to examine the device in more detail. ¡°We¡¯ll save this puppy till the end,¡± she says meeting his gaze. ¡°Just in case things get too hot!¡± P¡¯taal and Glotis stride confidently into the lounge. Glotis¡¯ net gun and combistick are ready for action. P¡¯taal¡¯s shoulder cannon angles looking for a target. When they see it is only N-Vorl and Dr. Boyd in the room; the two combatants calm down a little. Teresa is grateful for the dim light enveloping the room. Even though, she is sure that the masked P¡¯taal can see her hands just fine. Via his infrared interface. ¡°These abominations cannot be allowed to live,¡± N-Vorl says. His voice is unwavering and strong. ¡°We are going to destroy the ooman ship!¡± Even in the darkness of the room, Dr. Boyd can sense the fury that ripples through Glotis. ¡°What do you mean, destroy the ship? My resear¡ª,¡± Glotis begins. N-Vorl cuts her off with a raised clawed hand. ¡°Enough, Glotis! With Elder Glandis presumed dead, and Mau-Nis injured¡­I am in charge of the clan. What is left of it,¡± N-Vorl growls. ¡°We both know the only reason you took this assignment was to be closer to P¡¯taal. Elder Glandis¡­Your brother¡­My uncle...Turned a blind eye because he knew the affair would end once you were married. He trusted you would do your duty. But you have had your time together. Let us now leave. What creatures manage to escape to the planet¡¯s surface will live to create more. But the ones aboard this ship must be cleansed. I owe Elder Glandis that much.¡± Glotis is still quite unhappy. She nods and then storms angrily from the lounge. Teresa returns to the burnt locker and removes several rifles. She glances at the flamethrower she and Harold worked so hard on together. It leans against a chair several feet away. She blinks rapidly and turns away, wiping a large tear from the corner of one eye. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. N-Vorl and P¡¯taal turn to leave. Teresa calls to them from her place kneeling before the locker. ¡°The power outage¡­,¡± Teresa utters. ¡°It isn¡¯t due to any loss of power caused by the disturbance. I think this is a deliberate act. They¡¯re on the move again. They probably sense the other Judases here in the lab. There''s a war going on....And we''re right in the middle of it. That''s why Glandis never made it off of this ship. They''re coming." N-Vorl¡¯s chest rises and falls with his heavy breathing. He and P¡¯taal exchange a glance and N-Vorl nods decisively. The new leader¡¯s mandibles click open and shut with his growing excitement. ¡°Very well,¡± he says. ¡°Let them come.¡± With those words, P¡¯taal and N-Vorl exit the lounge. - - Lab Room One Glotis practically storms into the quarters she and P''taal now share. Glancing around the room, Glotis considers destroying every single remnant of ooman existence present in the makeshift living space. She casually removes her combistick from where it is attached to her belt. Extending the destructive metal tool to its full length, Glotis clenches her teeth and releases a low growl. P''taal''s appearance in the room causes Glotis to reconsider her violent tantrum. For P''taal to see her in such a crazed state would not be ideal. Despite his enormous size, P''taal moves calmly and gracefully toward his stricken lover. He cradles her face in his large hands. Glotis glares at him with more love than contempt. "Why did you choose to stay behind, P''taal?" Glotis challenges him. "You could have left with the others. Why stay to protect the ooman female? Do not feed me the lie about honor. I know about honor. This is something else. Has she turned your mind as well?" P''taal''s brow creases and he tilts his head inquisitively. "I do not understand," P''taal says. Glotis refuses to be consoled. She removes P''taal''s hands from her face and turns away from him. P''taal stares at her back with a pained expression. "Do you not see the way N-Vorl looks at her? The ooman?" Glotis hisses. "And the way she looks at him? When she believes no one is watching. Something has changed between them. Has the same happened to you?" Glotis whirls to face P''taal. She is surprised to find him actually smiling. The large warrior steps forward and once again takes Glotis'' face between his hands. "Is that what all of your anger is about?" P''taal teases. Pressing his forehead to Glotis'', P''taal peers deep into her eyes. "I will never love another as I have loved you," P''taal says. "Were you not fated to join with another....I would fill our house with the voices of many descendants." Glotis laughs half-heartedly. The rest of her heart simply isn''t in the joke. P''taal is the love of her life. Her only true love. Nothing will ever change that. "The ooman doctor did nothing to sway my decision," P''taal continues. "When I first elected to stay behind....It was because I suspected we would be forced to engage the Judases in battle. It seemed inevitable. I wanted to fight and die with honor. The thought of living without you....Was too great a burden. It was the ooman who changed my mind. She wishes we had not stayed as well. She cares for your welfare, Glotis. She has said: ''It is better to live with a memory....Than to become one.''" P''taal grips one of Glotis'' hands and presses it to his mouth. Glotis meets his gaze with pain-filled eyes. "I will always remember the times we had together," P''taal says reassuringly. "I refuse to burden you with the memory of my death. If it is within my power....I will help to defeat this enemy which has murdered our esteemed elder. Your brother. And I will live. Maybe we will find each other again." Glotis'' eyelids perform a slow blink and she takes a deep breath. P''taal rubs his right cheek against her left one. Glotis chitters with both sadness and agitation. Closing his eyes, P''taal draws Glotis into a tight embrace. - - Teresa crosses to the med pod and hovers over Mau-Nis. The injured yautja is coming around somewhat. Approximately thirty minutes before, Teresa ordered the med pod to stop administering painkillers, and Mau-Nis is gradually becoming more and more alert. ¡°How do you feel,¡± Dr. Boyd says. She strokes Mau-Nis¡¯ head with a sweat-moistened hand, concern etched on her face. Mau-Nis remembers his absent limb this time and slowly rises to a sitting position inside the med pod. He stares down at where his arm once was for a brief moment, and then turns to Teresa. ¡°I feel as if I am only half the yautja I was yesterday,¡± the warrior says in a voice filled with bittersweet melancholy. Teresa sits down on the nearby table and raises up both arms. In her hands is grasped a bulky weapon, attached to a black heavy duty battle harness. She offers the weapon to Mau-Nis with a saddened expression. ¡°I know you¡¯ve been through so much, Mau-Nis¡­But it¡¯s not over yet. We¡¯re pretty sure the Judases are planning to overrun this part of the ship. We¡¯ve got a plan. We¡¯re going to need everyone packing heat. Seeing as how you no longer have your shoulder weapon....I thought you might appreciate a replacement.¡± The injured yautja actually manages a wide smile. ¡°You do not need to beg me to kill the enemy who slaughtered my elder,¡± Mau-Nis says, confirming what was, up till now, only a suspicion. ¡°I am honored to go back into battle.¡±
Climbing to her feet, Teresa helps Mau-Nis into the battle harness¡ªattaching the metallic weapon to where his arm formally took up residence. Teresa explains the basics of the weapon while securing it to the yautja¡¯s muscular body. ¡°It works with a neural interface,¡± Teresa says. She positions the thin eyepiece in front of Mau-Nis¡¯ right eye, and attaches an electrode to the side of his head. ¡°It shouldn''t interfere with your mask. Just look at what you want to shoot at, and give the command.¡± Mau-Nis nods, as Dr. Boyd finishes attaching various pieces of the harness to his body. Teresa completes her work and backs away¡ªpeering at Mau-Nis with admiration. ¡°The battle harness belonged to an ex-colonial marine buddy of mine,¡± Teresa explains. ¡°Richard lost his arm fighting on New Vegas. Retired soon after. He was part of the civilian security team in charge of the labs. He was killed by the Judases. I¡¯m guessing¡­Right after they escaped. It was his body we found torn apart next to the security desk. Never thought we¡¯d have a reason to use that Mech-gun harness. It¡¯s only a prototype. It''s never actually been used in battle. Which means, you get to take her out on her maiden voyage.¡± Mau-Nis nods again, but there is a peculiar gleam in his eyes. ¡°Thank you,¡± the brave yautja says. ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet,¡± Teresa teases. A wry smile creeping onto her face. ¡°I don¡¯t have time to properly train you on this thing. You¡¯re about to get the crash course.¡± Chapter Forty-Five: Armored Up
When Dr. Boyd and Mau-Nis enter the main lab, Mau-Nis is like a changed yautja. No longer are his eyes filled with pain. Instead, they are brimming with a righteous rage. He is a warrior of renewed vigor and resolve. A fearsome hunter once again. Teresa is pleased to see that several of the UV lamps she scrounged up are already switched on and in position. The lights will deter the invading Judases for a short while. Long enough to set their plan in motion. P¡¯taal stands at attention when he catches sight of Mau-Nis. Glandis¡¯ second-in-command waves him back into a state of rest. P¡¯taal reluctantly obeys, eyeing Mau-Nis with slight concern. He pays special attention to the weapon attached to the space where Mau-Nis¡¯ right arm used to be. ¡°An ooman toy?!¡± Glotis says in a mocking voice. The yautja scientist casually reaches out a clawed hand to stroke the surface of Mau-Nis¡¯ weapon. Mau-Nis turns to his female companion and smiles. ¡°Yes. But a weapon nonetheless,¡± Mau-Nis says. ¡°With this ooman weapon, I can mete out vengeance upon the enemy which dared murder our leader and our brethren.¡± P¡¯taal circles Mau-Nis, appraising the weapon strapped to his injured comrade. Everything about P¡¯taal¡¯s body language says he is quite impressed. Teresa takes this opportunity to chime in. ¡°I suppose I should warn you all,¡± Teresa says timidly. ¡°Your usual methods of hunting¡­May not work in this situation.¡± N-Vorl¡¯s eyes flash and his mandibles click open and shut. Glotis steps forward, slight indignation on her countenance. Teresa forges ahead, not allowing their frustration to stop her. ¡°I¡¯m not suggesting your weapons aren¡¯t up to the task. Not really. While your combisticks, fancy wrist blades, and those throwing disks are valuable weapons¡­They won¡¯t do much good against these bugs,¡± Teresa explains. ¡°You can¡¯t fight them like that," Teresa insists. "Not anymore. If you''ve studied up on your Earth History, you know that cockroaches are pretty prolific survivors. They breed exceptionally well..Even under less than ideal circumstances. We don¡¯t have the necessary manpower¡­Troop strength...To take them on like that. Not if we intend to win. Not to mention, your usual combat weapons would require you to get much closer than is reasonable. Their forelegs give them a good four or five foot reach. You can¡¯t risk getting that close. Not if you value life and limb." Dr. Boyd cuts her eyes in Mau-Nis'' direction, hoping her poorly chosen joke hasn''t struck a bad chord. Mau-Nis seems unfazed, his eyes locked on Teresa''s face. "A typical roach can glide a significant distance in a short time," Teresa continues. "But these buggers aren¡¯t mere roaches. They''re a genetic cross between some of Earth''s most adaptable and hardy species. We call them pests, for the most part. Because it sucks trying to get rid of them. The Judas were genetically bred for strength, ferocity and speed. They move a lot faster, and pack a much harder punch than any cockroach ever could. The ant¡­Can carry up to fifty times its own weight. A praying mantis...Is an ambush predator. It can snap the head off its prey in one bite. Just to give you an idea of how much strength we¡¯re talking about. You''ve seen them! No two specimens are exactly alike. They''re unpredictable. And that''s what we''re up against. It''s been hours since we''ve taken a team out to observe them. We have no idea what other mutations they''ve undergone. The cameras on our little pets aren''t much to go off of. Anything could be out there waiting for us. And we¡¯ll be facing dozens of them. It''s time to adapt your fighting style.¡± Dr. Boyd glances around the room before continuing. The body language of the warriors around her reveals that they are at least open to her suggestions. Mau-Nis seems the most intrigued, carefully studying the mechanical gun arm attached to his shoulder. ¡°Their numbers have swelled,¡± Dr. Boyd continues. ¡°They¡¯ve been breeding undisturbed. Last view from the cameras revealed a corridor teeming with Judases. It¡¯s going to be chaos. You want to use your weapons? Good. You¡¯ll probably need them too. But I suggest everyone also carry an Orville rifle. With the Judases phasing in and out like they do¡­You need a weapon that can fire almost instantaneously. That¡¯s an Orville rifle.¡± Dr. Boyd reaches for her rifle, preparing to launch into an abridged history of her weapon of choice. She sits on the edge of a nearby table and props one leg up on a chair. ¡°Obviously, this is an Orville rifle. It¡¯s what we humans call a military grade assault rifle. It uses 12MM armor-piercing rounds. The internal magazine holds a 42-round clip. Which of course means, you can basically fire 42 times before you have to reload. That¡¯s a lot of dead Judases. Which is what we want. The weapon can be fired in close quarters repeatedly, packs a helluva wallop, doesn¡¯t overheat, and doesn¡¯t have a recharge rate.¡± N-Vorl¡¯s mouth curls into a wide yautja grin as he watches Teresa explain the intricacies of the weapon she is trying to sell them on. Her energy is strangely contagious, and her movements become more and more animated. Almost like the energy of a young unblooded before their first hunt for the Keinde Amedha. Maybe she should have been a weapons specialist instead of a scientist. ¡°However, it¡¯s not all bad. We do have one advantage,¡± Teresa continues. ¡°The planet¡¯s core is extremely magnetic. I suspect, the planet¡¯s poles may be due for a shift any time now. It¡¯s affecting the Judases¡¯ ability to stay hidden. That¡¯s what¡¯s causing them to phase in and out. I believe that¡¯s what allowed them to see through your cloaking as well. The phase out doesn¡¯t last long. But then again, it doesn¡¯t have to. If you see something, don¡¯t second guess. Just fire. If you damage the ship¡­Who cares? We¡¯re gonna blow it to hell anyway!¡± A loud scraping sound reverberates above them, presumably from one of the upper decks. Teresa stares up at the ceiling, hoping it is simply some of the ship¡¯s plating being thrown about in the geostorm. Teresa crosses to the work station where her scavenged pile of weapons is stacked. She grabs a second Orville rifle, and tosses it in N-Vorl¡¯s direction. The seasoned warrior catches it with a swift motion of his arm. Dr. Boyd smiles, proud that her judgment of N-Vorl¡¯s skill level is correct. ¡°You all get the same lesson Mau-Nis did. The extremely abridged, we-don¡¯t-have-much-time edition,¡± Teresa says playfully. ¡°I know you all can handle it.¡± - - Lounge/adjacent Dr. Boyd¡¯s makeshift quarters Having foregone a combat suit, in order to carry an additional weapon, Teresa now sports a brown t-shirt and camouflage cargo pants. She rummages through the duffle bag, only stuffing things into her pockets that she perceives will be necessary for their foray into hostile Judas territory. She considers taking a radio, but decides against it. Any sudden radio chatter might bring the Judases down on them. Better to talk in hushed whispers, or not at all. She jumps slightly when N-Vorl lightly touches her right shoulder. Placing a hand over the left side of her chest, Teresa struggles to get her breathing under control. She glances up at N-Vorl, an uneasy laugh escaping her throat. ¡°Damn! You scared me!¡± Teresa exclaims. Taking a knee beside Teresa, N-Vorl meets her gaze. His brow creases deeply and he places a hand at the back of Teresa¡¯s head. ¡°I won¡¯t let anything happen to you,¡± the big warrior says in a deep voice. His green eyes search Dr. Boyd¡¯s face. Perhaps to be sure that his words are having the intended effect. ¡°Ha,¡± Teresa laughs. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. She is unable to contain her amusement at the irony of their situation. Regarding N-Vorl with a mocking grin, she runs a finger along one side of his face. ¡°I distinctly remember you threatening to take my life on more than one occasion,¡± Dr. Boyd teases. ¡°That was a different¡ª,¡± N-Vorl begins. However, Teresa silences him by using the same finger she used to trace the side of his face to apply pressure to his mouth. ¡°I know,¡± she whispers. ¡°I was only teasing. You really should learn what humor is, N-Vorl! We, oomans, almost can¡¯t live without it. Who knows? You might even like it.¡± N-Vorl leans forward so that their foreheads are touching. His eyes are downcast and he appears introspective.
¡°We will not tell the others what we have done,¡± N-Vorl finally says. Once again, his eyes find Teresa¡¯s. ¡°The childling, if there is to be a childling, will be ours alone. I will ensure that no harm comes to either of you.¡± Teresa¡¯s heart sinks yet again, and she shakes her head sadly. ¡°I seriously doubt that either of us will have a say in the matter, should that time come,¡± Teresa replies. N-Vorl¡¯s mouth gnashes with his growing emotion. The hand still resting at the back of Teresa¡¯s head flexes, and his fingers caress her hair and scalp. ¡°But, I will do as you wish,¡± Teresa says with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll destroy all evidence relating to my little side project. It will be like it never happened.¡± N-Vorl¡¯s brow creases further and his eyes narrow. ¡°And what of our childling?¡± he inquires. There is a slight edge to his voice. ¡°There probably won''t be a child, N-Vorl! I¡¯m sorry,¡± Teresa lies. But only a little. ¡°Even with your magic elixirs and our unbridled passion... There just wasn¡¯t enough time to¡ª. All of my tests came up negative. The conditions just aren''t right for making a baby." N-Vorl searches Teresa¡¯s face once again, hoping to find some sign that she is not telling him the truth. However, he is unsure if having no childling at all is the better option. He and the ooman female can continue being lovers without complications. There will be no questions. There will be time enough for childlings when they are no longer on this cursed planet. Once he is installed as elder aboard his new vessel. No one would dare question his choice. Teresa¡¯s mind is going over a very similar dilemma. It may be a few weeks before she knows for sure whether or not she is carrying N-Vorl¡¯s baby. It is a crazy thing to go from believing you will certainly die, to having even the faintest glimmer of hope. If she is carrying his child, what will she do? Return with them to their home world? Not likely. Return to the human sphere? To Earth? And risk having the authorities confiscate and imprison her child? Maybe even experiment upon it? As she has done to countless other specimens. No. That must not be allowed to happen. Teresa shivers at the thought. Her visible discomfort causes N-Vorl to draw her close. She leans into his embrace, basking in the sea-like smell of his skin and the firmness of his muscled chest. N-Vorl reclines his chin on Teresa¡¯s head and takes in the strangely familiar scent of her hair. Teresa eventually draws away, her eyes brimming with tears. ¡°We need to join the others,¡± she says solemnly. ¡°The bugs won¡¯t hold off forever.¡± N-Vorl takes this opportunity to kiss her tenderly and deeply. Teresa wraps her arm around his neck, simply enjoying their closeness. N-Vorl kisses Teresa¡¯s face; working his way down to the flesh behind her ear, her neck, then to her collarbone. He kisses her shoulder through the material of her brown t-shirt. Teresa releases a deep sigh, knowing they do not dare go any further than they already have. Not with the fearsome trio in the main laboratory. However, N-Vorl seems not to care. He continues to smother her flesh with kisses. Dr. Boyd runs a hand through his braided hair, and whispers into his ear. ¡°I haven¡¯t been entirely honest with you, N-Vorl,¡± Teresa admits. A sinking pit forms in her stomach, but she forges ahead. ¡°I didn¡¯t just create an antidote for your blood serum. I created my own serum. For use on you. What you are feeling, N-Vorl¡­Might not be real.¡± N-Vorl moves back enough to peer at Teresa¡¯s face. The doctor¡¯s eyes are half-lidded, lips slightly apart, and her color has deepened to the reddish hue he has come to associate with moments of embarrassment or intense pleasure. N-Vorl¡¯s eyes narrow and he manages a large smile. ¡°I have not been completely honest with you either,¡± N-Vorl reveals in a husky voice. ¡°I did not wait in the other room as you cleaned yourself. I have been with you nearly every moment. I had my orders. I have no doubt that what I feel is very real.¡± At first, Teresa is greatly incensed by N-Vorl¡¯s confession. However, her anger subsides. How can she be angry with him? Whoever said that curiosity killed the cat, definitely never spent time on a coed dorm¡ªOr a spaceship for that matter. While curiosity has indeed signed many a death warrant; it has also been the catalyst for many a tryst or love affair throughout human history¡ªand surely throughout the galaxy. Hell, even the universe. What is different may sometimes stir fear in one¡¯s breast. But it can also stir the mind to great imagination. They are scientists after all. Pushing boundaries and going forbidden places is practically in their DNA. Teresa begins to laugh, but N-Vorl silences her laugh with another fierce kiss. When they have finished making their intentions known, N-Vorl helps Teresa to her feet. He assists her as she straps on her weapons and secures her battle harness. As an afterthought, Teresa grabs the flamethrower from its place on the table. Time to euthanize some Judases. Any bugs which manage to survive the gas; won¡¯t survive for long. - - When the first Judas insect slams into the door of the main lab, not a single eyelash bats in surprise. Dr. Boyd levels her Orville rifle with her left hand. While ensuring that the strap of her second rifle, on the opposite shoulder¡ªand secured in place by the harness around her middle¡ªdoes not slide down. Every shoulder cannon angles, searching for a target. Rifles are raised and ready to be fired. The fury contained within the confines of the lab is so palpable, it can be cut with a knife. Another loud thump, and a scrambling comes from the ducting above the five warriors. The Judases are in the lab¡¯s air conditioning. Juveniles more than likely. But not any less deadly if they find their way into the laboratory. Without a command needing to be given, the five spread out and stand back to back¡ªthe table holding the explosives at the center of their semi-wide circle. Each of them is guarding a different area of the lab. Glotis stands nearly shoulder to shoulder with P¡¯taal. She does not even bother to glance at him. They are both thinking the same thing: they will defend each other to the bitter end. Teresa raises her rifle, but does not fire, as a Judas¡¯ foreleg stabs through the ceiling. The foreleg pulls back and then repeats the action. The repetitive hammering of the juvenile¡¯s sharpened foreleg fills the oversized room. A second Judas joins in the noise, stabbing at the metal of the ceiling. No one fires their weapon. To do so, would further weaken the structure, giving the murderous insects an easy way in. So they will patiently wait. Wait until the insects¡¯ vile bodies are truly visible. Then, blow them to hell.
The first insect head and thorax to come into view, is summarily severed from the rest of its writhing body by the first blast of Mau-Nis¡¯ rifle. Brackish fluid sprays from the mutilated corpse and the back end of the insect plummets to the floor. Another Judas, more timid due to the burning UV lamps, backs away slowly. However, it finds its courage and surges forward¡ªfollowing its comrade to certain death. Mau-Nis brings a swift end to the second Judas as well. A loud thump follows the thud of the second insect upon the floor and Teresa cries out in alarm. ¡°Camouflage! They¡¯re using their camouflage!¡± Teresa yells. ¡°If you get a clear shot¡­Don¡¯t think about it! Hesitate and we all die!¡± The lab is filled with various forms of weapons¡¯ fire as each fighter hones in on an intended target and lets loose. Shoulder cannons blaze, Orville rifles boom, and Mau-Nis¡¯ mech-arm weapon pulverizes insect carapace into unrecognizable pieces. The Judases strategically utilize their camouflage ability, shimmering and disappearing at incalculable intervals. Only the planet¡¯s odd magnetic composition keeps the Judases from maintaining full invisibility. The yautja¡¯s infrared masks are of very little use, the insects¡¯ vibrations sending out false signatures as they flit from here to there. Every once in a while, the newly adapted frequency recognition software manages to locate a target. Most of the time, it is utterly useless. There are far too many bugs, and too many frequencies for the technology to accurately pin down and lock onto. Teresa simply aims for things that move without due cause. A mysteriously shifting desktop computer is shattered by a rifle blast. A moment later, there is a large splash of brownish fluid onto the floor. Teresa¡¯s Orville rifle has fired true. A chair is toppled over, and then slides a foot forward. Another rifle blast, another dead Judas. A Judas manages to get close to Glotis, nearly severing her head with a swipe of its fierce foreleg. Glotis sees the fluctuation in heat signature and gauges correctly. She ducks and plunges her combistick into the Judas¡¯ thorax. With a savage kick, Glotis sends the Judas flying. The Judas slams into one of its companions, which was coming to join the fray. Both insects land in a jumble several feet away. Both clearly visible. Both clearly dead by the same sharp weapon. Glotis only momentarily mourns the loss of her combistick. Glancing around, she grabs the combistick from Mau-Nis¡¯ belt. He glances back, unsure of what is happening, and then gives Glotis an understanding nod. He won¡¯t be needing it. Focusing on a strange distortion backlit against the UV lights, Mau-Nis orders the neural interface to fire upon it. The Judas juvenile is reduced to splintered pieces. Now knowledgeable of what to aim for, Mau-Nis finds his targets without much trouble. Sometimes, he falls back on his old ways and uses a throwing disk. Other times, he uses the ooman rifle to blow the vile insects to pieces. Either way, he is thoroughly enjoying himself. Taking pleasure in bringing pain to the enemy which mercilessly stabbed and tore apart his sage elder. Chapter Forty-Six: Matriarch
Somewhere in the Human Sphere Brigadier General Rodrigo is seated on the loveseat in his quarters. His solid form is pressed against the cushions of the sofa, hardened eyes staring up at the ceiling. Visions of mutated insects and military violence crowd the aging general''s brain, bringing him to the brink of something akin to arousal. In truth, he is already there. Simply glancing at photos from the original centuries-old Judas files had been enough to do that. Rodrigo bolts upright when his tablet computer chirps loudly. Reaching out a muscular arm, and grabbing the device from the nearby tabletop, he performs the verification exercises necessary to give him access to the awaiting live message. It is from his contact at Weyland Industries: General Erik Weyland. Opening the chat, Rodrigo puts on his most formal expression. Inside, his stomach is doing butterflies. "Yes, Sir!" Rodrigo barks. "Cut the crap, Ilyian. It''s just the two of us. Although, I do appreciate the sentiment." "Old habits," Rodrigo says with a smile. "Mhmmm," Weyland responds with a chuckle of his own. "Anyway. I''ve got some not so great news, old buddy! Seems someone leaked Dayshadow''s--and essentially--our plans to the press. It''s not just our rumors anymore. Not only do they know about the Judas...They have a list of names and operatives. The boys at the top think we should lay low for a bit...Let things calm down. Once the press cycle renews...And the human feces which is the Earth First activists go the freak away...We can go back to business as usual. The company story is that the doctor went rogue. That she disobeyed orders. They''re looking to fry her and that McAvoy fella. The search for the California has been called off. We don''t want to appear too desperate to get her back." Rodrigo presses a clenched fist against his knee in suppressed anger. "Are you freaking kidding me? They''re just going to leave a possible weapon of war floating in space?" "Oh. We''ll get our ship, Ilyian. Eventually. Weyland has eyes, ears, and hands everywhere. Give it time. We just have to wait. Let the smoke clear. Let someone else find the California. Buy it or steal it. That is the Weyland way." General Rodrigo is unable to suppress a loud laugh. "That it is, buddy!" - - The California Main Lab The double doors to the lab bulge inward. After several loud impacts, an enormous Judas female lurches into the room. A vile imitation of a yautja''s face covers the queen''s buggy visage. The two halves split to reveal the true horror underneath. Two protruding eyes scope out the lab with fury and violence. The queen finally spies the five warriors and shakes her head. Her golden rimmed crest catches the light of the UV lamps and she screeches with agitation. However, the bright-hot lights are not enough to deter the murderous matriarch from her goal. She rushes towards the tiny beings annihilating her offspring¡ªher loyal servants¡ªher children. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. N-Vorl and P¡¯taal aim their respective rifles at the charging Judas queen and fire. She emits a loud screech as both of her front forelegs are shot out from underneath her. She decides to change tactics, flapping her wings and preparing to fly at the offending warriors. By that time, P¡¯taal¡¯s shoulder cannon has come to bear. The weapon fires and one of the Judas queen¡¯s wings is shot off¡ªpieces of it fluttering down like thin strips of brown paper. The queen crashes to the floor, her insectile mandibles opening and shutting, as she nearly tumbles end over end. P¡¯taal finishes the job with a rifle shot to her thorax, and a shoulder cannon blast to her enlarged head. The queen¡¯s armored head explodes like a ripe watermelon, spewing brackish liquid and fragments of golden crest. They don¡¯t have very much time to celebrate, as nearly two dozen Judases surge through the lab¡¯s main entrance. Some of the disgusting insects clamber over their dying Queen Mother. Others are more respectful of their matriarch and race around her large body. The queen¡¯s placement, just in front of the doorway, slows the flow of Judases into the lab. N-Vorl, Glotis, and P¡¯taal form a line; firing indiscriminately at anything they can see or detect. Most rifle and cannon blasts find their targets. Judases screech, and every once in a while a camouflaged insect nearly makes it to the trio. There is always a weapon ready to take the encroaching beasts down. The battle rages for nearly twenty minutes. Smoke fills the gigantic room from the constant barrage of rifle and plasma fire. Dr. Boyd is surprised that the California¡¯s fire suppression system has not yet been activated. Possibly a glitch caused by the passing geostorm, or the ship conserving power. No time to worry about that now. The stream of Judases entering the lab, from almost every angle and direction, becomes a slow trickle. It is a relief when the last of the Judases¡ªfrom the current hive¡ªattempts to scramble away. And is shot by N-Vorl¡¯s red-hot shoulder cannon. Teresa releases a deep breath and glances around. Joy floods her heart at the sight of every single yautja standing proud and tall. They have won a great victory. But now, they will have to move quickly. Other hives will surely be on their way. The noise and conflagration will have attracted their attention. ¡°We need to move,¡± Teresa says. She grabs an ammo clip which has fallen to the floor and removes her nearly spent clip. No time to change clips when you¡¯re in the heat of battle. Better to do it now. As an afterthought, she shoves the nearly spent clip into a pocket of her shoulder harness. You never know. P¡¯taal, N-Vorl, and Glotis each grab an explosive device from the table. The warriors take turns placing the devices in small packs strapped to one another¡¯s backs. Once they are finished, Glotis spares a moment to reach down and wrench her combistick from the mangled bodies of the two impaled Judases. Teresa finishes reloading her rifles and adjusts their weight on her shoulders. Stepping around the dead Judases littering the lab, the five warriors make their way down the science corridor, heading for the nearest lift. Teresa relays the next stage of their plan, in a quiet voice, as they walk at a fast pace. - -
Judas juveniles scramble frantically down a darkened corridor. They are obviously in panic mode. A loud screech reverberates through the chamber. The juveniles, which are already skittish beyond compare, grow even more agitated. They scurry hurriedly over pipes, walls, the ceiling, and the floor. A large Judas queen lurches into view. She cares not for who¡ªor what¡ªshe steps upon. One juvenile is pierced through its carapace by the queen¡¯s enormous armored foreleg. She tosses the youngster aside in frustration. She has only one goal. To stop her enemies. - - ¡°There. The lift is there,¡± Teresa says. Excitement creeps into her voice and she begins to entertain the idea that they may survive this ordeal after all. Teresa picks up her pace a little more and moves toward the lift. She plugs her tablet into the keypad on the lift¡¯s door and punches in a sequence. The lift¡¯s doors open and a male computerized voice utters a message. ¡°Manual Override Accepted. Please enter your intended destination,¡± the male voice says. Teresa hurriedly types a command and the computer chimes in again. ¡°Transport to Deck C via Lift Number Five will take thirteen minutes and nine seconds. There is a faster route via Lift Number Three. Would you prefer this route? If so, please exit the lift and¡ª,¡± Teresa cuts off the irritating computer voice with another command input through her tablet computer. ¡°Get in the lift,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Hurry¡­Please.¡± It is a tight squeeze with four large yautja and a human, in a lift made for at most eight normal-sized humans. Teresa is the last to climb aboard the lift. She unplugs her tablet from the lift¡¯s keypad and allows the doors to shut. She is unable to turn in the tight space, and so she speaks over one shoulder. ¡°Hold on tight!¡± she says with a tiny smile. ¡°These lifts go up and down¡­And from left to right. We¡¯re going to be doing a lot of bobbing and weaving to get to the habitat wing. Hope none of you get carsick!¡± With that, Teresa plugs in to the control pad inside the lift. The lift lurches into motion, sliding swiftly to the left on its track. A moment later, the lift drops rapidly, before jumping onto another track and going left again. Chapter Forty-Seven: An Uncivil War
Thirteen minutes later, the four yautja and one human arrive on the California¡¯s C-Deck. Teresa squeezes out of the lift and then turns to her companions. ¡°We walk from here,¡± Teresa whispers. ¡°We can walk quieter than that lift can transport us. Besides, although it appears that the worst of the geo-disturbance is over...The last thing we want is to be stranded in a crowded lift. It got us here. But why take chances? The habitat wing is only a few yards up this way.¡± Teresa opens the top button on her blouse and tucks her tablet computer inside. Next, she ensures that her weapons harness is snug enough to keep the device from jostling around. Repositioning her duo of rifles so that they can be easily utilized, Teresa signals she is ready to move. Just as in every corridor they have traveled down, the habitat wing is covered in organic Judas material. Even the light fixtures are plastered with layers of secretions, and decomposing flesh. Teresa halts her steps long enough to lean forward and observe something which gleams on the floor. She stoops to pick it up. A yautja throwing disk. Gripping the disk in a shaking hand, Teresa reaches back and offers it to P¡¯taal¡ªwho is directly behind her. P¡¯taal takes the throwing disk, but refuses to show any interest. What is the point? They already know that their leader and comrades are dead. Better to forge ahead and get the battle over with. Dr. Boyd mushes on, her finger just a hair closer to the trigger of her Orville rifle. She needn¡¯t have worried. When they reach the main hallway leading to the common areas, the carnage is undeniable, and the battle is obviously long over. Corpses are strewn everywhere¡ªin various stages of decay. Human, yautja, and Judas. The humans, dead long before any of the other visible casualties, have been torn apart. Limbs separated from torsos, trunks without heads and appendages, ribcages housing burst Judas oothecaes, and piles of pale bones lie about the entire living space. The warrior party step around the battleground with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. The bodies of the fallen yautja tell a much different story. Most had not been killed for their meat, but for their faces. Masks lie beside some of the brutally murdered warriors¡ªripped from their faces by the hostile Judas insects. Teresa turns to face Mau-Nis. "Is this where Elder Glandis and your team was attacked? Right here?" The solemn warrior simply shakes his head negatively. His hawkish eyes filled with sorrow and grief. ¡°Then, how--? Oh my goodness. They saved them for a purpose,¡± Teresa says. Dr. Boyd kneels beside a dead yautja warrior and traces the area where his face was literally cut away from the rest of his head. It reminds her of the old west stories of settlers and natives being scalped. ¡°They kept them alive,¡± Teresa intones. ¡°At least, for a little while. So they could harvest their faces. To study them. Oh hell.¡± Teresa waves a hand around the room. ¡°But this¡­,¡± Teresa says. ¡°This doesn¡¯t make any sense. Who killed all of these Judases? Elder Glandis and his team? I don¡¯t smell any scorching. Could your people have done this, N-Vorl?¡± This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°I don¡¯t believe so,¡± the new leader says. ¡°The injuries are not consistent with our weapons.¡± Something catches his attention, and N-Vorl strolls to a spot a short distance away. For a moment, N-Vorl only stands there. So transfixed is he by the nightmare image before him. Teresa climbs to her feet, Mau-Nis assisting her, and they walk over to where N-Vorl stands motionless. Beneath a pile of detritus and decomposition, is what remains of Elder Glandis. Having been half consumed by the queen inhabiting the habitat wing, there is very little¡ªoutside of his elaborate robe and adornments¡ªto differentiate the elder from his kin. Teresa places a hand gently on N-Vorl¡¯s forearm. The big yautja barely acknowledges the gesture. Such is his obvious distress. There is no longer any shadow of a doubt that Elder Glandis is no more. N-Vorl is now leader of the clan. If he survives, that is.
Teresa wanders away from N-Vorl and Mau-Nis, respectfully allowing the two warriors to process their grief in some semblance of privacy. She studies several Judas corpses littering the common area. Her eyes taking in every detail. ¡°These Judas¡­Oh god¡­These insects are from two separate hives,¡± Teresa exclaims. ¡°The patterns on the carapace. Glotis¡­Come here, please. I need your expert opinion.¡± Glotis approaches where Dr. Boyd is kneeling. The human scientist pokes one of the Judas corpses with the muzzle of a rifle. ¡°Does it not appear as if there was some kind of civil war here?¡± Teresa says. ¡°I¡¯m seeing two types of bugs. There¡¯s the green-brown insects with white and black spotting.¡± Teresa peers up into the female yautja¡¯s mask, before pointing at another specimen about two feet away. ¡°And then, there¡¯s the reddish-brown ones mostly over there¡­.Near the entrance,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Anyone see a queen? Possibly an older one? You¡¯ll know, because her coloring will be dull and faded.¡± Mau-Nis and P¡¯taal begin examining the insect corpses around the enormous common area. N-Vorl remains where he is, staring down at what was once his great leader. His father¡¯s brother. ¡°Is my assumption correct, Glotis?¡± Dr. Boyd inquires. ¡°Does it not appear as if there was a war here?¡± ¡°It does appear that way,¡± Glotis says, nudging a dead bug with her foot. ¡°Many of these Judas have the same markings. But the majority do not. The victor has taken their hive elsewhere. We must figure out which queen¡­,¡± ¡°The old queen is here,¡± Mau-Nis states from a few feet away. Glotis¡¯ head whips around, her braids swinging with the effort. All but N-Vorl converge on Mau-Nis¡¯ position. N-Vorl steps closer to the habitat wing¡¯s entrance, holding a battle ready stance. Glotis glares down at the Judas female sprawled on the habitat floor. The old queen¡¯s head has nearly been ripped off and her green-brown mottled skin is greatly faded by age and decomposition. ¡°This was not the old queen¡¯s hive,¡± Glotis says with certainty. ¡°She was the invader. The Judases by the entrance. They were put there as an offense. They warned the others of the impending attack. This meant that their hive mates were able to enter the fray prepared. It was a massacre. What we¡¯re seeing is the result of a failed siege. The younger queen will have gone to finish off any other threats to her supremacy. She won¡¯t risk another siege like this one. She is taking the fight to the other hives.¡± Teresa rolls her eyes and runs a hand through her hair. The idea of a raging mad Judas queen roaming the ship and creating havoc doesn¡¯t sit well with her morning meal. ¡°Why don¡¯t I like the sound of that?¡± Teresa whispers sardonically. ¡°Because it isn¡¯t good!¡± P¡¯taal answers. ¡°We are still in her hive. We don¡¯t want to be here when she returns.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Teresa says. She motions toward the explosives bag slung over P¡¯taal¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s get busy, then.¡± Chapter Forty-Eight: Questionable Oversight
The mood is more than a little somber, as they exit the lift and head for the communications hub. Teresa surveys their surroundings, following closely behind Mau-Nis. The other three yautja are cloaked. The communications console has been trashed; computer monitors smashed and insect secretions spread over just about everything in sight. There is barely any light. Dr. Boyd retrieves her tablet from its new storage place, and slides one hand into a pocket of her commandeered cargo pants. She checks to make certain that the flash drive and disk she confiscated from McAvoy,¡ªWhile he sat tied up in the ship¡¯s freezer¡ªare still safe and intact. Finding an opportunity to use the devices, without raising suspicion, may be the only issue. Hiding the California''s self-destruct protocols might be even harder. ¡°We need to find a functioning terminal,¡± Dr. Boyd whispers. ¡°These are shot all to hell. There¡¯s another terminal in the security office down the hall. Maybe it¡¯s still up and running.¡± Dr. Boyd glances in Glotis¡¯ direction and inhales deeply. ¡°We¡¯ll have to take a page from the queen¡¯s book,¡± Teresa says. ¡°P¡¯taal and I will plant the explosives. You three will act as our offense. We¡¯ll join you when we¡¯re finished.¡± Glotis¡¯ previous anger returns and she strolls intimidatingly to where Dr. Boyd stands. Even with the mask, Teresa knows that the female yautja¡¯s eyes are drilling into her. ¡°Why P¡¯taal? Why must he stay behind¡­With you?¡± Glotis says in a deep growl. Teresa grows impatient, her voice becoming elevated. But she remembers where they are and the strengths of their insectile enemies. She lowers her voice. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for a debate. With Elder Glandis dead and Mau-Nis severely injured¡­N-Vorl is the defacto leader. We discussed this. It¡¯s not about me. I don¡¯t live in your society. But I find it hard to believe¡­Even with your honorable culture¡­That your people will simply accept the death of Elder Glandis and his second-in-command¡­While you and your lover ride off into the sunset. Without Mau-Nis¡¯ account of what happened here¡­They may not even accept N-Vorl as a legitimate leader. You need him. And I need P¡¯taal to help me set this explosive. It¡¯s about getting the job done. Nothing more.¡± N-Vorl steps close to Glotis and lightly touches the female yautja¡¯s forearm. Glotis looks down at N-Vorl¡¯s hand but doesn¡¯t say a word. The yautja female¡¯s chest heaves with the emotion bottled up there. She quickly turns away from Dr. Boyd, and the others, and stands with her back to them. Her combistick is gripped in a tightly clenched hand. Teresa considers saying something reassuring, but heads for the security office instead. P¡¯taal stands looking at his lover¡¯s back for a moment. Then, he nods to Mau-Nis and N-Vorl, before following Dr. Boyd. - - Teresa shows P¡¯taal the correct way to open a locked door¡ªwithout too much noise¡ªand the strong yautja imitates her actions. The door to the security office still flies open with a slight bang against the wall. Teresa hopes that there are no Judas specimens nearby. She races to the security table, on which two desktop terminals are situated. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. ¡°Nice,¡± Teresa whispers to herself. She retrieves the data disc, USB scalper, tablet computer, and necessary components from various places on her person. She points towards the far corner of the room. ¡°Set up the device over there, okay? I¡¯ll be there in a minute. I¡¯m going to purge the California¡¯s computers and do a complete system rewrite.¡± P¡¯taal tilts his head in customary yautja fashion. ¡°Is it common for an ooman scientist to perform such an operation?¡± P¡¯taal questions. Teresa shakes her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. ¡°Not really,¡± Teresa says. She moves to one of the terminals and begins setting up. ¡°The company requires only limited training on Information Technology. For scientists anyway. That¡¯s how we ended up with the villainous Theodore McAvoy and his band of merry Judases. Theo was the best of both worlds. The company bought an engineer and an InfoTech expert all rolled into one inexpensive package. But, you get what you pay for. At this point, it¡¯s cost them the California, the Judas Resurrection Project, and possibly one major freaking financial headache. Thing is¡­Sometimes, we scientists are grossly underestimated. Sometimes, a girl just wants to have fun. Learned most of what I know from attending privately funded workshops in InfoTech and advanced programming. Truth be told, I suspected something wasn¡¯t right about Theo. It was just a gut feeling. The morning of the breach, I started covertly running my own ship¡¯s diagnostics. If Theo hadn¡¯t already gone AWOL, I might have had him arrested when his girlfriend brought him to the lab. I never liked the asshole. And Richard¡­Well. He would have loved wiping that smug grin off Theo¡¯s face.¡± Dr. Boyd stops working and stares into empty space. Her brow furrows and a bemused expression alters her countenance. She leans on the table provocatively. ¡°Which brings to mind another wrinkle. I have no idea how he got back on the ship. Or why he left all those weapons in the lab for us to find. Don¡¯t get me wrong¡­I¡¯m eternally grateful for his oversight. Doesn¡¯t mean it makes a whole lot of sense though. I skimmed through a couple of the system¡¯s logs, when we were here last. I assumed he would have used an escape pod to land on the planet¡¯s surface. And then, maybe he snuck back aboard once we crashed. There was no mention of a pod being deployed. The only suspicious activity I observed in the logs was a forced access in the transport hangar about four hours before the first warning alarm. The escape pods in the hangar were unused. So who entered the hangar? There¡¯s nothing else in there. Well, except a weapons testing area for top brass when they¡¯re aboard. It just doesn¡¯t make sense to me. Why didn¡¯t he just take what he needed and skedaddle? Wait on the planet¡¯s surface for his contact? Why come back aboard at all?¡± Teresa shakes her head and grows silent. Her talking might be distracting to P¡¯taal and she doesn¡¯t want to bring any nearby Judases down on them. Delving deeper into the system, she spies a graphic which holds her attention. ¡°Well¡­Hello,¡± Teresa whispers softly. She reads the information on the screen, her eyes growing wide with disbelief. Memorizing what she sees displayed, Dr. Boyd returns to her previous job¡ªwiping all traces of the Judas Resurrection Project, and the yautja''s existence from the California¡¯s system. She is grateful that the California has been unable to send information back to the company since before the crash. It makes things a lot easier. Any backups will be purged as well. Lastly, she will set the ship to self-destruct. The three explosives they¡¯ve brought along may destroy the living Judases. But Dr. Boyd wants to be sure that nothing¡ªnot even a speck of Judas DNA¡ªremains.
P¡¯taal finishes his work before Teresa and comes to stand behind her at the terminal. Teresa sighs with relief. Had it been N-Vorl with her, she might not be able to think straight. She hasn¡¯t had a blood serum injection in almost thirteen hours. The hard part has been done. The self-destruct sequence is already in place, the alarms silenced by a simple change in the line of code. One way or another, this ship is going down. Again. ¡°We¡¯re done here,¡± Teresa says. ¡°Tell the others to scout ahead. I intentionally neglected to mention it, but we lost the camera feeds to our pet Judases some time ago. I suspect Mommy Judas is really angry. She¡¯s murdering everything in sight. We won¡¯t see her coming. Inform N¡¯Vorl, that you and I will plant the last bomb outside the transport hangar.¡± P¡¯taal conveys the message through his mask and the trio of other yautja head for the transport hangar. They are quite familiar with that route by now. P¡¯taal strolls from the security office, but waits outside the door for Dr. Boyd. Teresa glances back once at the computer, and then follows P¡¯taal, readjusting her weapons for maximum readiness. Chapter Forty-Nine: Showdown
P¡¯taal backs out of the main corridor, and into a connecting hallway leading to the transport hangar. Dr. Boyd is only a few steps ahead of him; trailing behind N-Vorl, Mau-Nis, and Glotis¡ªwho are each sprinting at a very fast pace. ¡°Here,¡± Teresa says excitedly. ¡°We¡¯ll plant the last device here.¡± She and P¡¯taal kneel on the floor. They secure the last explosive as quickly and efficiently as possible. Teresa sets the timer and glances up at P¡¯taal with a grim smile. ¡°All set,¡± Teresa whispers. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± P¡¯taal climbs to his feet, sparing only a brief glance over one shoulder. His long dreadlike braids whip to and fro as his head pivots. P¡¯taal is just turning around when two sharp forelegs pierce his back, just above each shoulder blade. Green blood splatters as the Judas¡¯ large forelegs exit the front of P¡¯taal¡¯s shoulders. The fierce yautja is yanked off of his feet and drawn backward. Teresa hears the sickeningly wet impact of the Judas¡¯ assault. She quickly spins around; her rifle training on where she assumes the sound came from. She fears what she will see. She does not expect to see P¡¯taal dangling in the air¡ªsuspended by two enormous forelegs. The Judas queen¡¯s crest becomes partially visible, as splashes of P¡¯taal¡¯s blood land on her reddish-brown carapace. Putting all pretense aside, the queen halts the vibration of her wings¡ªin order to become completely visible. P¡¯taal dangles literally about a couple of feet from the enormous insect¡¯s gnashing mandibles. The queen pays no heed to Dr. Boyd as she toys when her presumed meal. The Judas queen¡¯s mandibles open wide, and her mouthparts rub together in anticipation. With a triumphant screech, the Judas prepares to chomp down on P¡¯taal¡¯s legs. P¡¯taal futilely ejects his wrist blades, ready to fight to the death. Teresa¡¯s automatic rifle fire slams into the side of the large Judas¡¯ head. The eye on the side of the queen''s head, where the shots strike, bursts wetly. Thick liquid splatters over the vile insect, P¡¯taal, and the floor. The queen screeches again. This time, in agony. Out of sheer anger, she wrenches free one of her knifelike forelegs and slams P¡¯taal into the opposite wall with her other foreleg. She is now blind on one side and mad as hell. Whipping the foreleg still holding P¡¯taal in the other direction, the large queen watches with her one remaining eye as he crashes into a wall and slides down it. She is remembering where he fell. So that she may pick up where she left off. After she is done tearing apart the creature which dared take away half of her sight. Whirling on Teresa, the female Judas receives another rifle blast to the face. The blast takes off a portion of the queen¡¯s crest and facial armor, as well as a large chunk of her head. However, this does not stop the raging creature. The queen vibrates her wings, preparing to use her camouflage. Teresa remembers their fight in the main lab. How the queen had been brought low by strategic shots to her forelegs and wings. No wings; no camouflage. No legs; the stupid bug won¡¯t be able to charge her. Teresa goes for the wings first. If the queen manages to camouflage herself; it¡¯s over for them all. Teresa raises both weapons and fires a duo blast into the queen. The armor piercing rounds strike the queen a split second before she fades from view. With equal swiftness, Teresa lowers the rifle in her right hand and reaches into a side pocket. Retrieving a small flare gun, scavenged from the ruined weapons locker, Teresa aims it directly at the queen roach. The flare lands between the queen¡¯s outspread wings, just behind the spiny joints where wing meets crest. The queen screeches as her wings catch fire. The crest on the queen¡¯s large head, adorned with the blatant mimicry of Elder Glandis¡¯ visage, begins to show signs of charring¡ªas flames travel down the fine hairs on her body. The queen shakes herself and then charges Teresa. On the floor, a few feet away, P¡¯taal repositions himself for a clear shot. Angling for accuracy, P¡¯taal¡¯s shoulder cannon fires once. The blast catches the queen mid-thorax. She is nearly upon Teresa when the blast hits her. The queen¡¯s front legs pinwheel as she is propelled backward and to the side. She crashes onto her side and scrambles to right herself. Teresa fires another flare at the Judas matriarch¡ªdirectly into the hole left by P¡¯taal¡¯s shoulder cannon. It is almost as if the queen¡¯s insides become molten. The heat of the flare causes the insect¡¯s innards to bubble, and they splash up and out of the open wound. Some of the horrid mix of guts and insectile blood lands on Teresa¡¯s cheek and the back of her hand. Teresa yelps with the sudden pain, but flinches very little. Not taking chances, she switches back to her Orville rifle and fires multiple rounds into the struggling insect on the ground. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. Finally, the queen is still. But the duo¡¯s problems are far from over. A flurry of activity can be heard inside the corridor they came from only moments before. The queen¡¯s cavalry will soon arrive. Teresa fires a third flare down the corridor, to temporarily drive the approaching Judases back. She quickly races to P¡¯taal¡¯s side, and struggles to get the large yautja on his feet¡ªglancing down the corridor every few seconds. P¡¯taal peers up at her and shakes his head. Teresa wishes that he were not wearing the mask, so that she could see his face¡ªhis eyes. ¡°Go¡­,¡± P¡¯taal says in a hoarse voice. ¡°Leave me. Follow the others.¡± Teresa adamantly shakes her head and continues to struggle with the big warrior¡¯s massive bulk. ¡°No,¡± Dr. Boyd stubbornly protests. ¡°I told you¡­I¡¯m not letting you die. Not here¡­Not now. Now, get the hell up and move your ass! Your legs aren¡¯t injured! It¡¯s just your arms. You can still run! Get up!¡± Teresa¡¯s angry tone is enough to get P¡¯taal¡¯s blood up and motivate him to get moving. The warrior braces himself for the pain, his mandibles clicking furiously. Pushing upward, with his ravaged shoulders, P¡¯taal uses the wall and Teresa as supports while climbing to his feet. Teresa adjusts P¡¯taal¡¯s arm around her shoulders and encourages him forward. Before long, his green blood has soaked through the material of her clothes. The noises in the corridor grow steadily louder, and the scurrying of clawed feet sounds closer than before. Teresa looks around for somewhere they can hide or escape to. Her eyes land on a large metal cart. An engineering cart. Perfect. Engineering carts are typically utilized by busy engineers seeking to navigate the halls of a crowded ship. Battery-operated, wheeled, with a tabletop, and numerous drawers for storing tools; the engineering cart serves as a mobile shop of sorts. But what Teresa needs the cart for, is not so complex. A smile builds on Dr. Boyd¡¯s face and she nods towards the cart. ¡°You see that square cart, P¡¯taal?¡± Teresa yells over the sound of her heart in her chest¡ªand the scurrying of vile insect feet. ¡°Yes,¡± P¡¯taal agrees. ¡°When we reach that cart, I need you to hop on it. Kind of a belly flop, okay?¡± Teresa explains. ¡°It¡¯s got wheels on it and it¡¯s drivable. But I¡¯m gonna have to squeeze in between your legs to use the controls. So don¡¯t get weirded out, okay? It¡¯s nothing personal.¡± P¡¯taal nods agreement, but says nothing. Teresa can tell that the pain from his injuries is immense. Reaching the cart, P¡¯taal does as Teresa instructed. He springs onto the cart and lands stomach down. The wheels on the engineering cart are locked. So it does not roll away. However, the cart does rock due to the yautja¡¯s added weight. Teresa climbs onto the small platform at the back of the cart. Planting her feet, she pulls her tablet from inside her weapon¡¯s harness and plugs in. In less than ten seconds, the cart roars to life. The first Judas insect screeches and lunges for the cart. Just as the engineering cart surges forward and out of reach. Teresa¡¯s hands fly over the controls and she pushes the cart to its limit. The first detonation rocks the California¡¯s habitat wing. The ship quivers with the force of the massive explosion. Judases shriek, while scrambling up the walls and ceiling of the ship¡ªtrying to get at the fleeing quarry. Dr. Boyd mentally wills the cart to go faster. After a few moments, they catch sight of the trio of yautjas headed for the transport exit. Inch by inch, they gain on N-Vorl and the others. Until the cart finally overcomes and passes them. Teresa looks over her shoulder with a grin. She waves one arm mockingly. ¡°Come on, slow pokes,¡± She yells. ¡°They¡¯re gaining on you! Let¡¯s go!¡± With a small chuckle, Teresa turns back forward. The exit looms only a few yards away. A Judas leaps from the ceiling and lands directly in front of the cart. The engineering cart slams into the insect at full speed. The bug is torn apart by the impact and P¡¯taal goes flying through the air. The yautja spins and lands with a loud crunch on the hard metal floor.
Teresa is only slightly luckier. P¡¯taal¡¯s bulk, and her hands gripping the cart, keep her from being thrown as he had. Teresa unplugs from the cart, shoves the tablet in her bosom once again, and races to where P¡¯taal lies stunned on the floor. Teresa tries dragging P¡¯taal, but is barely able to move him. His oozing green blood makes her hands slick and she struggles to find a good grip. Back in the other direction, the other three yautja warriors are dispatching several Judases which managed to get too close. Glotis aims her netgun at an approaching Judas. The insect is repelled forcefully backward as she fires the weapon. N-Vorl stabs one Judas with his combistick, while firing on another with his shoulder cannon. He pivots to his right and slices off the foreleg of a third Judas, which was climbing on the wall beside him. Another swift motion, with his wrist blades, and the tumbling insect¡¯s armored head rolls away. N-Vorl sidesteps to avoid coming into contact with the downed bug. His shoulder cannon angles backward and finishes it off. Mau-Nis uses his mech-arm gun to cut down two Judases clambering on the ceiling. The insects fall to the floor, but continue scrambling forward. Mau-Nis makes short work of them both with rapid fire from his weapon. With no more immediate threats, the three yautja head for Dr. Boyd and P¡¯taal. Teresa waits for N-Vorl and Glotis to arrive and assist. In between shooting insects, they haul the bulky warrior the rest of the way toward the hangar exit. Mau-Nis climbs out first and reaches back, with his one remaining arm, to assist the others. The second detonation occurs as N-Vorl leaps from the downed human freighter. A portion of the California erupts with flame¡ªdebris spraying toward the sky. It won¡¯t be long now. The four yautja and the solitary human make hurried tracks away from the exploding ship. Chapter Fifty: Belonging
Teresa turns back in time to see a Judas scurry out of the ship. The creature follows them at a swift pace, before it suddenly disappears. ¡°Incoming,¡± Teresa cries. Just as a flurry of rapidly fluttering wings sounds overhead. She falls to the ground, and rolls a short distance. The Judas¡¯ forelegs grip only air and it goes in for another attack. Teresa does the only thing she can. Grabbing up handfuls of sand, she tosses them where she thinks the Judas should be. One handful of dirt hits hard carapace and she has her target. Lying on her back, in the dirt, Teresa fires a single burst from her Orville rifle. The Judas explodes with a meaty wet sound and is propelled away. The yautja warriors use their slightly ineffective infrared to aim and fire at supposed targets. Mere minutes later, the third blessed detonation slams the California. The gargantuan ship shifts and whines. Metal beams screech and buckle, under the strain of trying to stay in one piece¡ªand the now searing heat within the ship. Another Judas leaps through the air, aiming straight for Mau-Nis. The former second-in-command has his back turned. His acute hearing tells him that there is an enemy nearby. Turning, battle harness and prototype weapon coming to bear, Mau-Nis lets loose on the still invisible Judas. The automatic fire rips through the cursed insect; tearing apart head, thorax, and wing cases. The creature plows heavily into the sand almost at Mau-Nis¡¯ clawed feet. Mau-Nis¡¯s weapon runs dry and he expertly ejects the empty cartridge. Deftly retrieving a cartridge from the mesh straps on his implement belt, Mau-Nis slaps the cartridge home. Spinning to his left, Mau-Nis dispatches yet another camouflaged Judas trying to catch him unawares. Glotis, deft and efficient as ever, uses her combistick¡ªas well as Mau-Nis¡¯ appropriated combistick¡ªto send more than a few Judases to another plane of existence. N-Vorl simultaneously fires the ooman Orville rifle, and utilizes his shoulder cannon; laying waste to any and all Judases he detects. After a few more minutes of fierce battle, no other Judases make an appearance. P¡¯taal, his shoulder cannon red-hot from firing continuously, falls flat on his back upon the sand. Teresa drops to her knees and releases a relieved sigh. N-Vorl, Glotis, and Mau-Nis stand tall and proud amongst the wind-blown dunes. N-Vorl closes the top of his wrist device. Grateful he did not have to use it. Removing his mask, N-Vorl surveys all that is around him. And it is good. If there are any more Judases outside of the hulking ship, they are making themselves scarce. P¡¯taal still lies on his back, his eyes tightly shut. Glotis glides patiently to his side. The yautja scientist places P¡¯taal¡¯s head in her lap and examines his shoulder wounds. P¡¯taal¡¯s eyes flutter open and he peers up at his illicit lover. She offers him a kind smile in return. Teresa glances over her shoulder, back in the direction of the California. She regards the four yautja warriors before making her decision. Climbing to her feet, Teresa abandons one of the Orville rifles and reaches for the weapon on the ground near her feet. Harold¡¯s flamethrower. Abandoned when he was sheared in half by a powerful yautja weapon. So close to freedom. Even with all she has been through, a part of Teresa is burdened by the level of carnage which will be her legacy. Harold, Bess, Richard, Dr. Stormare, and even Theo McAvoy. What had it all been for? As far as Teresa is concerned, her partnership with the warrior hunters is over. It is now time to make things right and return to her own kind. To face her fate. Repositioning the single Orville rifle and strapping it in place, Dr. Boyd holds the flamethrower in front of her and walks back in the direction of the California. N-Vorl¡¯s voice at her back causes Teresa to turn. The large yautja is making swift strides in her direction. Teresa¡¯s manner grows serious and she shoots N-Vorl a furious scowl. ¡°Don¡¯t try to stop me, N-Vorl!¡± Dr. Boyd says with all the force she can muster. ¡°I have to do this!¡± N-Vorl stops on a line with Teresa and removes his mask. He looks down at Teresa, a fierce gleam in his eye. His baser instincts tell him to grab her¡ªto force her to come with him. But another, more rational, part reminds him that the doctor is not one to be easily controlled. His left hand flexes as he struggles against the forces in his mind. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°You have to do what?!¡± N-Vorl demands. ¡°We are outside of the ship. You are safe. Why would you go back?¡± Teresa swallows the lump in her throat and hopes that what she has planned has even a small chance of success. ¡°I knew three explosives wouldn''t be enough,¡± Teresa explains. ¡°In fact, I planned it that way. I¡¯ve set the California to self-destruct. You only have about another fifteen minutes. You should get as far away as you can. There¡¯s an escape vessel inside the transport hangar. It¡¯s in a high-level secured section. I¡¯m not sure if I have the codes for it. The saboteur¡ªHe had the codes. From what I can tell, he was holed up in the escape craft when everything hit the fan. But even if I can¡¯t get into the escape ship, I should be able to get to one of the pods. I can jettison myself a safe distance away from the California and broadcast a signal. Maybe a passing ship will pick me up.¡± ¡°Why do you not come with¡ª,¡± N-Vorl begins. Teresa¡¯s face becomes solemn and she shakes her head. N-Vorl¡¯s words trail off and he narrows his eyes. ¡°We both know I can¡¯t do that,¡± Teresa says. ¡°If your people saw those explosions¡­They¡¯ll be back. You¡¯ll have a glorious story to tell them. But, I don¡¯t belong up there¡­With you. And, it¡¯s better that my kind doesn¡¯t know you exist. They¡¯d comb the entire universe to have your technology for themselves. That would mean more war. More deaths. The kind of thing I was working to eliminate. This mission has been nothing but death. For your people and mine. I want it to end. I¡¯ve seen enough. I can get back into the ship. I can erase as much data as possible and make sure the California is completely destroyed. But I have to go now. There¡¯s no telling how many more Judases are crawling around in there.¡± Teresa wishes that N-Vorl had kept his mask on. Seeing the brief flicker of pain, which plays across the brave warrior¡¯s features, breaks her heart. She tries to offer him some small degree of encouragement. ¡°Believe me, N-Vorl¡­I don¡¯t want to be a hero. I am only ooman after all. You and Glotis are the hope for your clan now,¡± Teresa says. She reaches out to firmly grip N-Vorl¡¯s hand. ¡°Go be their hope. I¡¯ll be fine.¡± As if on cue, a bright light appears through the dissipating storm clouds. The yautja mothership comes into view, electrical energy sparking along its surface. Hovering above them, in all of her shimmering glory, the ship is a welcome distraction. Teresa releases N-Vorl¡¯s hand and takes a backward step. ¡°Ha,¡± Teresa chuckles. ¡°Who knew? For decades, humans have been trying to breed the ultimate super soldiers. But there¡¯s really no need. They already exist. Tell Glotis she was right.¡± Not giving herself a chance to change her mind; Teresa whirls and sprints towards the smoldering heap of what was once the U.S.S. California. She refuses to even spare a glance back at N-Vorl. She doesn¡¯t dare. She might be tempted to run back into his arms. Entering the ship, one final time, Dr. Boyd steps carefully around debris left from the third explosion. The only scurrying she hears is some distance off. Positioning the flamethrower in front of her, finger not quite on the trigger, Teresa slowly creeps in the direction of the hidden escape craft. She is especially careful not to make any unnecessary movements, and thus create air currents the Judases might interpret as prey. She is approaching a metal partition, on which a large keypad rests, when a Judas lumbers into view. Visible only due to the flashing amber warning lights. Then comes the sound of another, and another, and another. Probably on the ceiling and walls. Teresa plugs her tablet into the keypad as calmly as her growing fear will allow.
¡°Don¡¯t panic,¡± Teresa whispers in her mind. ¡°Don¡¯t move too fast. Act as if you have not seen them. Be cool.¡± The Judases approach at a gradual pace. Teresa is sure they are aware of her and are toying with their dinner. Her first attempt at an override fails. And her second. And her third. She tries to remember every inside joke, every shielded secret, and every whispered rumor on the ship. Surely, something will work. Finally, she sets the program to randomly try various phrases parsed from Theodore¡¯s colorful work logs and vid history. ¡°Oh hell,¡± Dr. Boyd says. Her mouth draws into a cruel smile and she raises the flamethrower. In her mind¡¯s eye, she sees Harold standing at her side. ¡°You want some? Come and get some.¡± Releasing a gout of flame, Teresa laughs as several Judases are set alight. Their screeches fill the air with a sound which is like music to Dr. Boyd¡¯s ears. She reaches into her battle harness and removes the partially spent clip of ammunition. She hurls the clip deep into the roaring flames. A chime sounds and the keypad¡¯s indicator light glows green. Teresa is grateful that auxiliary power is still keeping the most basic of the California¡¯s systems operational. The ammunition clip explodes and more Judases are torn apart by the resulting blast. Debris flies, and Dr. Boyd leaps into the doorway of the concealed transport dock. Unceremoniously ripping her tablet out of the front keypad. She palms the inner keypad, and watches as the door to the hidden dock slowly slides back shut. Epilogue Version 1
Salvage Vessel Nimrod 2101 13:00 hours ¡°Yeah, there is definitely something out there,¡± Captain Delroy Jones says through the wad of tobacco under his bottom lip. ¡°Looks like some kind of escape craft. Real roughed up too! Scored, real burned up. I doubt anybody¡¯s alive in there.¡± Suddenly, Captain Jones sits forward in the Captain¡¯s chair. ¡°Wait a minute?!¡± Jones hollers. ¡°Does it say ¡®Dayshadow¡¯ on the side of that vessel?¡± Lieutenant Lisa Preston, a retired colonial marine, leans forward and adjusts the image on the forward viewer. She turns to the captain with a huge smile. ¡°That¡¯s what it sure looks like, Captain!¡± Lisa says. Excitement flashes through Jones and he claps both hands. ¡°This could be our lucky day, folks! If this is the escape craft Weyland Industries has been looking for¡­We just might strike it rich!¡± Whoops and whistles fill the bridge as Jones¡¯ crew express their excitement. ¡°Preston? See if we can¡¯t get a cable on it and drag that sucker in.¡± Jones says with a sneer. ¡°Yes, Sir,¡± the lieutenant replies with a firm head nod. Captain Jones rubs both hands together, anticipating the find of his lifetime. A find like this could be worth its weight in gold, credits, and women. He¡¯ll take them all. - - The crew finally finishes hauling the battered escape vessel into the salvage ship¡¯s hangar. Captain Jones shoves another bit of tobacco under his lip and strolls toward the forlorn piece of space trash. He patiently waits as his crew uses a blow torch to open the tiny vessel¡¯s misshapen door. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. After a few minutes, the crew emerge from inside the ship lugging a dingy old-fashioned stasis pod. The four crew members, one woman and three men, gently lower the pod to the hangar floor. Captain Jones peers through the small viewport at the front of the pod; his eyes landing on the slumbering face of a woman. Lieutenant Preston attaches a life sign meter to the outside of the pod and it emits a loud beep. Lisa grimaces and looks up at her expectant captain. ¡°She¡¯s only sleeping, sir!¡± Preston relays. Captain Jones spits out a wad of tobacco and tosses his cap on the floor. ¡°Goddamn it!¡± he cries. ¡°After two years! Who the hell survives in an escape craft for more than two years? Oh well. Open it up!¡± The crew do as instructed. As soon as the pod is open, and the woman is clearly visible, a collective gasp sounds throughout the hangar. The woman inside is eerily beautiful, her eyes closed in heavy slumber. Both steepled hands rest above her abdomen. The bottom of the woman traveler''s brown t-shirt is ripped down the middle, and her distended belly is fully exposed. Captain Jones stands to his full height and signals with alarm. ¡°Prep a fresh stasis pod! And get her in it ASAP! Last thing we need is her going into labor in the middle of deep space,¡± Jones yells. - - Three months later
Teresa is seated alone in a barely furnished sterile room. She rocks back and forth on a metal chair, holding a strange infant to her chest. Several Weyland Industries experts stare at Dr. Boyd through a two-way mirror. A woman scientist steps forward, a medical tablet pressed to her bosom. ¡°What do you think happened to her out there?!¡± the woman says in a soft voice. ¡°Do you think she was experimenting on herself?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll never know,¡± a male scientist says. He steps closer to the glass. ¡°Someone did an A-Plus job of wiping the pod¡¯s memory banks and all its backups. Whoever they were...They knew their way around a ship. And she¡¯s not saying anything. Hasn¡¯t spoken a word since they woke her up from cryo.¡± Another female scientist steps closer to the mirror, staring fixedly at the infant Teresa is holding. ¡°All she does is cry and rock that¡­That thing. It¡¯s so weird. What the hell is it? Is that a Judas?¡± the second woman says. The scientists stare through the glass at Dr. Boyd¡ªpaying extra attention to the infant in her arms. The child is a sickly green color¡ªalmost jaundiced. Four large mandibles protrude from the side of the infant¡¯s cheeks and its hair is made up of long prickly strands. Tiny clawed hands tenderly reach up and stroke its mother¡¯s tear-streaked face. The first woman scientist shudders and turns away from the window. She regards her colleagues with a hard expression. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here,¡± she says in a low whisper. The scientists file out of the observation room. The door closes and a lock is thrown. Teresa, as if sensing they are finally alone, strokes the face of her infant. She smiles as she takes in the faint flecks of brown interspersed in the depths of his vividly green eyes. Not daring to say a word, she brings the infant¡¯s forehead to her lips. She plants the smallest of kisses on his mottled skin. Epilogue Version 2
Salvage Vessel Nimrod 2101 13:00 hours ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s definitely something out there,¡± Captain Delroy Jones says through the wad of tobacco under his bottom lip. ¡°Looks like some kind of escape craft. Real roughed up too! Scored¡­Burned. I doubt anybody¡¯s alive in there.¡± Suddenly, Captain Jones sits forward in the Captain¡¯s chair. ¡°Wait a minute?!¡± Jones hollers. ¡°Does it say ¡®Dayshadow¡¯ on the side of that vessel?¡± Lieutenant Lisa Preston, a retired colonial marine, leans forward and adjusts the image on the forward viewer. She turns to the captain with a huge smile. ¡°That¡¯s what it sure looks like, Captain!¡± Lisa says. Excitement flashes through Jones and he claps both hands. ¡°This could be our lucky day, folks! If this is the escape craft Weyland Industries has been looking for¡­We just might strike it rich!¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Whoops and whistles fill the bridge as Jones¡¯ crew express their excitement. ¡°Preston¡­See if we can¡¯t get a cable on it and drag that sucker in?¡± Jones says with a sneer. ¡°Yes, Sir,¡± the lieutenant replies with a firm head nod. Captain Jones rubs both hands together, anticipating the find of his lifetime. A find like this could be worth its weight in gold, credits, and women. He¡¯ll take them all. - - The crew finally finishes hauling the battered escape vessel into the salvage ship¡¯s hangar. Captain Jones shoves another bit of tobacco under his lip and strolls toward the forlorn piece of space trash. He patiently waits as his crew uses a blow torch to open the tiny vessel¡¯s misshapen door. After a few minutes, the crew emerge from inside the ship lugging a dingy old-fashioned stasis pod. The four crew members, one woman and three men, gently lower the pod to the hangar floor. Captain Jones peers through the small viewport at the front of the pod; his eyes landing on the slumbering face of a woman. Lieutenant Preston attaches a lifesign meter to the outside of the pod and it emits a loud beep. Lisa grimaces and looks up at her expectant captain. ¡°She¡¯s only sleeping, sir!¡± Preston relays. Captain Jones spits out a wad of tobacco and tosses his cap on the floor. ¡°Goddamn it!¡± he cries. ¡°After two years! Who the hell survives in an escape craft for more than two years? Oh well¡­Open it up!¡± The crew do as instructed. As soon as the pod is open, and the woman is clearly visible, a collective gasp sounds throughout the hangar. What appeared to be a woman is not a woman at all. Tucked inside the escape pod is a very large insect of unknown origin. Hardened carapace, fierce sharpened forelegs, mandibles which could rip a man in two, and a large crest on whose surface is the face of a beautiful woman. In Conclusion: An Afterword- Book One Let me start by saying: "I am ALL ABOUT CONSENT" "I AM NO APOLOGIST" for bad behavior. Anything I present to you, you can make your own judgments about. I will present you with the "facts" of the matter. That is all. Whether the fictional giver of those facts is reliable or not... Sometimes, we are thrust into situations, or placed in positions, where difficult choices must be made. That is what my works are supposed to be about. Choices. And their consequences. Agreeable or not. I am a lifelong fan of this franchise. I was elated, as a child, watching a diverse group of men take on a predator more formidable than even themselves. All their training, all their muscle, and all their tech? It didn''t matter. In the end, it took instinct and brain power (a different kind of muscle)...To win. As a childish, quirky nerd, I found this impressive. For me, Predator wasn''t just your average campy monster movie. This movie had depth. Coming from a wily first-grader? Uh...Okay. When the second movie came out, I was touched by the predator''s compassion for the pregnant police officer. As I was for the so-called rogue''s compassion for the first movie''s female protagonist. Such acts forever cemented this species in my brain. Whatever else they may be, I saw them also as protectors. Call me crazy? You wouldn''t be the first. Haha. Then, came AVP. I was stoked. I was finally going to witness my dream come true on the big screen. A battle for the ages, right? Needless to say, I was disappointed at the brief screentime my favorite alien species commanded. But I understood why certain things were done or not done. I would have welcomed a warm and loving relationship for the two pyramid survivors. (Same kid who was happy when the Klingons finally joined the Federation. So...) Platonic or otherwise. The makings of a story were already there. As a sidenote: Anyone who doesn''t believe that AVP (or Alien) was a very sensually charged movie...Might enjoy watching it again. Please do. Like now. I''m not kidding. Kidding. ?? 1)When Max and Alexa meet (the eyes say it all) 2) The pyramid experts vying for her attention Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. 3) Max in the meeting hall with Weyland 4) Max in Alexa''s room after the meeting. He observes the (cough, cough) in her bag, and makes an approving gesture before leaving 5) Even the female mercenary seems infatuated with Alexa, making racy jokes. Did she and Max have a conversation about what he observed in Alexa''s room? ?? 6) The back and forth between Max and Alexa, like an old married couple. And much later.... 7) The way that the main predator views Alexa through his mask (more than once). 8) The way she studies him as he is marking himself. No fear, no revulsion, only curiosity. 8B) The way Lex notices the mural at the front of the pyramid and tells...No one. Even her expression was unbothered. Maybe she believed it was myth or hyperbolic. Gods and demons? Hmmm. 8C) Same with the first attack, when Max is killed. She stares in curiosity watching the larger yautja take the alien on. No real fear, as if she had faith he could handle his business and was only intrigued. 9) Alexa was meant to be desirable. End of story. The comics set her up for this. Even though she was not featured directly in them. There is a similar story with a yautja and another human woman. I had an audioblog detailing all of my findings, but I took it down. This is an abridged version. Really think about everything you know about Alien and Predator. Forced impregnation. The anatomy of the alien. Especially, the facehugger. Why a bunch of hunky male television idols versus an alien invader in fishnets? Huh, what? And then, there''s Mr. Giger. He was once pulled out of line at an airport because the concept art in his luggage was so visceral and lifelike. Security believed he had pictures of mutilated women/people in his bags. Or so the urban legend goes. Anyway. I know I''m not special. I know my writing will never be great. I''ve been told as much. But that''s not why I write. This fandom or anything else. In this case, I write because this particular franchise resonated with me. More so than Alien. Which I positively adore. Alexa Woods was, to me, what Ripley was to women of the late 70''s and 80''s. I saw in that storyline the making of not one...but two heroes. A species which prides itself on individualism and victory at all costs. Yet, he fought and died for her. I always wondered: "Why?" Perhaps, I need to dig deeper for that answer. The characters in this book...And the next...Have choices to make as well. I hope you will join me for Book Two: Blood and Oaths. This will be a two-parter in one. One book; two stories. I''m too lazy for volumes. A choice. Haha. Besides, people adore longer stories. Amirite? Thanks again. I surpassed my initial hopes for view counts. Waking up and seeing 6,000 made my day. It doesn''t take much. Bonus Sidestory: Xeno Hell- Chronicles of the Blooded Chronicle One: Battle for Ravaar''nak This is the story of a hunter. One you already know from this fiction, "Another Kind." His story, his journey, his fight... Here is an image of the xenos he did battle with: If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Chronicle Two is the story of another hunter Also one you know from "Another Kind." As "Blood and Oaths", the sequel to "Another Kind" progresses; I will add these stories to this fiction. To avoid spoilers, you may not receive this one until past the halfway point of "Blood and Oaths." In the meantime, here is an image of the xenos he fought. And of his lush habitat of chruksh (I''m still working on this image). Images by craiyon.com about 3 years ago when I was still twiddling my thumbs and going.... "Shoulllllddd I?"?? Bonus Features: Art and Things (non-commercial ofc) After well over a week of prompts, editing, erasing, deleting, and growling at my computer screen/phone...Eureka! I found it? I did it? Whatever. Haha. My reimagined imagined cover. I literally cried and shook after creating it. I couldn''t believe my semi-idea was appearing on the page...And I was doing it. Took a lot of effort and was very tedious. Learned some new editing tricks and tools though. I originally wanted a "Gone With the Wind" feel. You know...He''s holding her, she''s holding him. But AI imaging doesn''t play well with human emotions. And the cover would basically function as a huge spoiler. It took human will power and multiple spliced images for me to get something even close to what I wanted. But I DID IT! Hint: He''s actually a lot bigger in my head, and in "reality". However, making everything to scale would alter the dimensions/look of the cover. I settled for him like he is. ¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã¡ã 1) I''m thinking of posting Before and Afters. It was a lot of work. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. 2) The California faceplants into the planet''s surface: Link below (also Stable Diffusion + my editing). I love this site because images are private until you decide to share them. Gives me some security, I guess. ?? 3) Truth and Vulnerability/At the crux (Yes. That''s a toilet. From the story.) ?? 4) Nov 8, 2024- Ghkivu monster concept. Mentioned by N-Vorl during a conversation with Dr. Boyd. This is a close rendering of what this creature/hunt beast would look like. A writer over on writingforum dot com introduced me to stable diffusion. Openart dot ai. That''s where the multiple images I used were generated. Thanks. Xeno Hell: Chronicles of the Unblooded: Part 1A-Battle For Ravaarnak (Ptaal)
P¡¯taal hits the water with a large splash. Swimming to the surface, he gazes up at the cliff from which he just plunged. H¡¯lvif, Elder Glandis¡¯ sole heir, floats in the river¡¯s current several meters away. The injured warrior¡¯s face is badly battered, his left arm hanging on by mere threads of muscle and sinew. P¡¯taal summons all of his strength and swims in the direction of his fallen hunt brother. The warrior¡¯s sharp hearing picks up sounds of the battle raging on the ridge above. Plasmacasters fire on repeat, and the screeches of ghkivu-keinde hybrids pierce the evening air. P¡¯taal reaches H¡¯lvif and bobs underneath him, in order to place a shoulder under the injured yautja¡¯s one good armpit. His plan is to guide H¡¯lvif to shore and then rejoin his hunt brothers in their battle. If they survive, he will return for H¡¯lvif. P¡¯taal¡¯s plan is foiled when there is a large eruption of water to their front. A ghkivu-keinde hybrid leaps from the water at P¡¯taal. This hybrid, one of many¡ªstill swims in the river¡¯s depths. It is not like its brethren, which now crawl upon the land. This creature is doubly dangerous. P¡¯taal, grateful that the clan engineers modified the hunters¡¯ targeting systems to also work independent of their masks, aims for the leaping creature and fires. The plasma shot rips half of the diving hybrid¡¯s head off. Purple blood spills out from the gaping wound, sizzling as it hits the water. But the creature is not yet done. The hybrid screeches loudly, and whips its barbed tail, arching it over the top of its mangled cranium. The tail slams through H¡¯lvif¡¯s back, killing him instantly. Green blood spurts over P¡¯taal¡¯s face, chest, and arms. He roars with anger, and fires a second shot with his plasmacaster. The second round of plasma catches the xeno hybrid center mass. The creature waves its numerous tentacles in the air and flails backward, its entrails flowing out along with its lifeblood. P¡¯taal uses his sheathed knife to cut away the barbed tail jutting out of H¡¯lvif¡¯s back. He gazes sadly down at the body of his fallen hunt mate, as he drags him away from the steaming mess of tentacles and teeth. The acid will not harm H¡¯lvif. He is already dead. However, only certain portions of P¡¯taal¡¯s armor are impervious to the hybrid¡¯s acidic body fluids. Better to get as far from the stinking beast as possible. More cries up on the ridge. Those of his hunt brothers. The battle does not seem to be going well. How many had already fallen before he dove into the water? Two? Three? How many of his warrior brothers are now left? P¡¯taal arrives at the shore and rests H¡¯lvif¡¯s body against a large boulder. He places a clawed hand over the wound in H¡¯lvif¡¯s chest and closes his eyes. ¡°May the ancestors carry you with honor,¡± P¡¯taal utters into the darkening night.
Climbing to his feet, P¡¯taal only looks back once. The beasts will not seek the flesh of his brother. For now, the body is safe. - - Hunt Leader Jrokah fires her plasmacaster until it glows redder than the nearest sun. The ghkivu-keinde hybrid weaves back and forth, undeterred by the loss of a tentacle or two. It alternates between using its tentacles to grip and glide through the trees and using its spiny legs to crawl. Jrokah backs slowly through the trees, her round hazel eyes searching for a route of escape. She needs time for her weapon to cool. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°This is not working, Jrokah!¡± comes the deep voice of Sernetu. ¡°We need another plan.¡± ¡°A bit late for that!¡± Jrokah yells in a strong voice. ¡°Keep firing until you can clear a path.¡± ¡°I cannot. If I keep firing¡­My caster may explode!¡± Sernetu protests. ¡°Then it explodes. Do not stop firing. We are almost clear. Furjurn!¡± Wrenching her specialized combistick free from her belt, Jrokah hits it against her thigh and the tool extends to its full length. She regrets the possibility of losing her prized weapon, but Sernetu is right. Firing too long could mean the battle will be over sooner than they¡¯d expected. Jrokah hurls the combistick towards the approaching hybrid, at the same time that she fires a shot from her plasmacaster. The monster cannot dodge both. The hunt leader¡¯s combistick proves to be the weapon needed to do the trick. The metal end plunges into the skull and brain of the ghkivu monster. The creature seems to consider its peril, and then loses its grip on the tree it was swinging on. It crumbles to the ground in a massive heap. Sernetu is still firing. His reddish-brown eyes scan the trees, his quarry using them as cover in an attempt to get closer. With only moments for her plasmacaster to cool, but with an excellent vantage point of the creature stalking Sernetu, Jrokah fires her weapon. The monster appears to explode. Tentacles, acidic blood, and chitinous body parts rain down from the forest canopy. Thankfully, Sernetu was not underneath. The brave warrior glances at Jrokah with a look of gratitude. ¡°Thank y¡ª,¡± Sernetu begins. Before the words are out of the hunter¡¯s mouth, another creature leaps for him. Opening its massive maul, the creature goes straight for Sernetu¡¯s head. The warrior takes a few steps back, but he is too late. The hybrid knocks him to the ground, gripping his head in its monstrous mouth. While the large mouth keeps Sernetu¡¯s face in position, the smaller mouth shoots forward and punches through his head. Sernetu¡¯s arms go limp as his life is extinguished. ¡°Noooo!¡± Jrokah bellows. Only a moment too late, Jrokah resumes firing her plasmacaster. She fires twice upon the murderous hybrid, killing it and spewing purple acidic blood over the body of her fallen pupil. But it could not be helped. Scrambling through the brush causes Jrokah to pivot to her left. A yautja she does not recognize makes his way through the trees in her direction. Green blood soaks his front, but Jrokah is certain it is not his. ¡°Who are you?¡± Jrokah yells, suspicion in her voice. Is this yautja one of the infected who were stranded here? A prisoner? Why else would he be covered in another yautja¡¯s blood? As the warrior draws closer, Jrokah is able to glimpse the symbol of his clan on his armor. The acid scoring is new. He has received his blooding on this very island. One of the other teams, then? ¡°I am P¡¯taal. One of the nine of Fihgi. I know who you are¡­Hunt Leader Jrokah¡­Of the Yrkig. I come to help. I am not your enemy.¡± Jrokah tilts her head in a haughty gesture, appraising P¡¯taal from his place amongst the trees. The Fihgi, while a small clan, is known for breeding some of the fiercest warriors. This warrior will do. After all, none of her own pupils remain¡ªR¡¯dor having been carried off by one of the cursed serpent hybrids. By now, he will be incubating a serpent¡¯s worm. Jrokah strolls to the spot where the hybrid which she killed with her combistick lies. P¡¯taal stands ready with his plasmacaster as she retrieves her weapon. Jrokah approaches the silent warrior with an air of importance. He watches her with slightly narrowed eyes. ¡°How many¡­Have you killed?¡± Jrokah whispers in a voice tinged with invitation. P¡¯taal stares down at the yautja female in front of him. Barely three inches separates their heights. Her scent causes P¡¯taal¡¯s blood to surge in his veins and he offers her a thin smile. ¡°Almost as many as I have fingers,¡± P¡¯taal lies. But only by two. ¡°That is¡­Admirable,¡± Jrokah says. ¡°I have heard tales of your clan. Bravery is not in short supply.¡± Jrokah rests a clawed hand on P¡¯taal¡¯s armor, above where his heart beats. ¡°Perhaps, when this is over¡­You can show me how it was done.¡± P¡¯taal¡¯s eyes narrow even further, as his maleness begins to tingle with anticipation. ¡°Perhaps,¡± the warrior simply says. ¡°We should keep moving,¡± Jrokah commands. ¡°My hunt ship is not far away. We can regroup there. The other teams may have fallen back as well. Those that remain can plan another assault on the serpent settlement. There was dozens of rogues imprisoned here. Even with the number of kills you and I have witnessed or taken part in¡­There must be many more serpents. We¡¯ll need warriors....And more weapons.¡± Xeno Hell: Chronicles of the Unblooded: Part 1B- Battle for Ravaarnak (Ptaal)
¡°Jrokah¡­You are alive!¡± Hunt Leader M-Klou says with excitement and disbelief. The much older hunt leader hurries in Jrokah¡¯s direction. He stops in his tracks as he spies P¡¯taal and the mark upon his armor. Growling softly, M-Klou shakes his beaded head and glowers at his younger rival. ¡°Who is this¡­Yautja?¡± M-Klou chitters loudly, his voice dripping with condescension. ¡°He is P¡¯taal, of the Fihgi. He is also the yautja who saved my life¡­While my pupils were being slaughtered,¡± Jrokah says, fudging the facts just a little. Besides, she cannot mate with the brave warrior if he is dead. Can she? M-Klou is a jealous old fool. He should have retired from leading hunts many cycles of the moon ago. Blood sports are for the youthful. But if M-Klou believes he can get to her heart by being kind to one she is kind to¡ªhe will mind his manners. M-Klou studies P¡¯taal from head to toe. His olfactory senses tell him that there is something amiss. Jrokah has taken to this yautja from another clan. She is hoping to mate with him, her scent becoming sweet and inviting. This will not do. When the hunt is over, and the island has been cleansed of its rogue hunter hybrid filth, he will deal with the Fihgi hunter. M-Klou offers Jrokah a smile and nods respectfully. ¡°I understand,¡± M-Klou says. To P¡¯taal, M-Klou says, ¡°Where is the rest of your team? Are you all that remains?¡± ¡°I am not sure,¡± P¡¯taal admits. ¡°I was separated from my team on the high ridge. We were in the midst of a fierce battle with many keinde hybrids. I saw three of nine die. But I heard other screams of death. Some were those of my hunt brothers. I don¡¯t know how many more may have met their end.¡± ¡°Either way,¡± Jrokah interrupts. ¡°He is now a part of our team. How many of your original team are left, M-Klou?¡± ¡°My team is intact. We are still three strong,¡± M-Klou states proudly, his chest puffed out. The other teams did not fare as well. Sjiri was lost to us. Only one of his team remains. Altogether, we are seven strong. ¡°That is good,¡± Jrokah says, relief in her voice. ¡°We can now add this Fihgi warrior to our numbers. That is very good! We must formulate another plan for ridding this island of the black serpents¡¯ offspring.¡±Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! ¡°I believe the plan is simple,¡± P¡¯taal interjects. M-Klou and Jrokah turn to P¡¯taal in surprise. Jrokah¡¯s face is a mask of pleasure, while M-Klou¡¯s brow is creased in fury. Did this newly blooded youth dare give him orders? Does he dare command M-Klou¡ªleader of thirty-three hunts for the keinde amedha? Is he a simpleton? P¡¯taal charges ahead, undisturbed by either of the hunt leaders¡¯ reactions. ¡°We infiltrate the queen¡¯s hive and detonate our wrist gauntlets,¡± P¡¯taal explains ¡°There is no other way to ensure we kill them all. Destroy the nest¡­Destroy the hive. Unless, another queen has already spawned. In which case, we will need to separate our devices to achieve a maximum killing zone.¡± ¡°Who are you to give orders?¡± M-Klou barks. ¡°You are only a¡ª¡± ¡°M-Klou stop!¡± Jrokah yells, placing a hand on the hunt leader¡¯s wide chest. ¡°I believe he is right. It is a similar plan to what I had in mind.¡± ¡°Similar¡­But not the same,¡± M-Klou says. ¡°We cannot allow this youth to¡ª¡± ¡°It is close enough. And it makes sense,¡± Jrokah says with a sense of finality. M-Klou gazes at the yautja female with an expression of uncertainty. He wants to defy her. He wants to challenge the young Fihgi and run him through with his murderous blade. But there would be no justification¡ªsave for his desire to mate with Jrokah. Jrokah. How he has sought her for many cycles. This youth of the Fihgi will not have her. ¡°Continue, P¡¯taal,¡± Jrokah says, daring M-Klou to interfere. ¡°We each take our ships to a different location. Three ships, three detonations. We are sure to wipe out nearly everything.¡± ¡°We were sent here to cull the hunt beasts which overran this settlement. Not to destroy the entire planet!¡± M-Klou interjects. ¡°What you are proposing is reckless and unnecessary.¡± ¡°Three wrist gauntlets will hardly destroy the planet, M-Klou,¡± Jrokah. ¡°You know this. You are simply being difficult.¡± ¡°What if I am?¡± M-Klou bellows. ¡°I will not take orders from a Fihgi youth.¡± ¡°He did not give an order. He offered a suggestion. A very good one. For all your talk of pride, M-Klou¡­You are not looking any less a prideful fool right now.¡± M-Klou clamps his mouth shut and glowers at Jrokah. When she does not avert her gaze, M-Klou¡¯s eyes grow soft. He offers Jrokah a wistful smile. ¡°You are right. Of course. The youth¡¯s plan is a good one. I only wish he had given me time to propose it myself.¡± P¡¯taal nods respectfully at M-Klou. Acknowledging the merit in the old hunt leader''s statement. ¡°I apologize, Hunt Leader. I will consider your words in the future.¡± M-Klou¡¯s level of respect for the Fihgi youth goes up exponentially. Not very many yautja can put aside their pride, himself included. This youth will make a great leader. ¡°Three teams. Three ships. Now, where do we begin?¡± M-Klou says, offering Jrokah a sly grin. She returns the older hunt leader''s grin with one of equal mischief. P''taal watches the interplay with narrowed eyes. The female''s scent becomes tinged with the aroma of one ready to do fierce battle. The blooded youth grins as well. Xeno Hell: Chronicles of the Unblooded: Part 1C- Battle for Ravaarnak (Ptaal)
¡°We¡¯re here,¡± Jrokah states, climbing from her flight chair. P¡¯taal stands to his full height and moves to follow Jrokah from the hunt ship¡¯s flight deck. The yautja youth is surprised when Jrokah turns and grips him by the shoulders. Staring deep into his eyes, Jrokah forces him to look at her. ¡°You will keep your promise?¡± Jrokah inquires, studying P¡¯taal¡¯s face. ¡°My promise, Hunt Leader?¡± ¡°To tell me all about your hunt kills,¡± Jrokah says in a deep sultry voice. ¡°I do not want you to leave any details out.¡± P¡¯taal finally realizes what Jrokah is getting at, his body tingling from a sudden surge of hormones. He returns Jrokah''s hungry gaze, hazel eyes bright with mischief and desire. He considers stroking the hunt leader''s cheek, but decides such a move would be brazen in the extreme. There is always the chance that his suppositions are incorrect. ¡°Yes. I will tell you. Once we are safely back aboard your ship. We will have plenty of time, then.¡± Jrokha presses her cheek against P¡¯taal¡¯s and draws in his male scent. He imitates her actions, his heart fluttering beneath the metal of his armor. So he was not wrong. Something to look forward to? Jrokah releases P¡¯taal and pivots away from him. Just as suddenly as it began, their moment of bonding is over. For now. - - Jrokah climbs down into the depths of the gaping cave in front of her. P¡¯taal isn¡¯t far behind. As designated hunt leader, she had demanded to go first. As Jrokah¡¯s dedicated suitor, P¡¯taal had opted not to buck her authority. He watches both his back and Jrokah¡¯s for any signs of danger. He does not have to wait long. A loud screech fills the cavern as a ghkivu-keinde hybrid leaps from a nearby crevice. P¡¯taal fires his netgun, propelling the beast away from Jrokah. For her part, Jrokah uses a throwing disk to sever the beast¡¯s head¡ªprior to the net hurling it away. P¡¯taal solemnly shakes his head. Shame about the net. Continuing forward, Jrokah and P¡¯taal make their way deeper into the cave. The other two teams should have already arrived at their chosen locations. They will have to hurry. - - Unlike most hives, the center chamber of this particular serpent hive is filled with water. Serpent eggs line the entire rim of the waterhole. The tops of some eggs are already split open, the implanters inside having burst forth to infect their prey. With their hunt masks on, the implanters will not be able to sense their respirations. It is the spiny hybrid adults they must be wary of. Jrokah points towards a far corner with a clawed finger. P¡¯taal follows where her finger is pointing to the ovipositor situated midway up the ceiling. So far, so good. They¡¯ve located the queen. No adult serpents clamber noisily up the walls and ceilings. This is either a good sign. Or a really bad one. Creeping closer to the water¡¯s edge, Jrokah removes her wrist gauntlet. All but the final sequence has already been entered. The female hunt leader opens her gauntlet and inputs the final symbol. Jamming the device into an empty egg, she returns to P¡¯taal¡¯s side. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Jrokah whispers. Before the two hunters can get more than four feet, there is a loud scurrying from above. P¡¯taal hesitates only a brief second before looking upward, knowing what he will see. As he expected, a large keinde hybrid is using its spindly legs to crawl across the cave¡¯s ceiling¡ªslimy tentacles trailing down towards the ground. The creature is right above Jrokah¡ªreaching for her with its tentacles. He does not dare shoot it, the acidic blood would surely rain down on the female hunter and kill her.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Retrieving his combistick, P¡¯taal signals for Jrokah to remain completely still. He draws back his arm and prepares to throw. The creature sees his movement and screeches. Psyching the beast out, P¡¯taal uses his large foot to kick Jrokah away¡ªwhile hurling a throwing disk at the hybrid. The disk slices the creature¡¯s back. Acidic fluids pour from the opening onto the rocks below. P¡¯taal leaps clear with only milliseconds. The hybrid screeches again. Followed by the screech of another¡ªfurther away. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± P¡¯taal roars, echoing Jrokah¡¯s previous sentiment. Jrokah is once again on her feet. She races beside P¡¯taal for the entrance to the antechamber. They clear the entrance and continue back the way they came, using their masks to guide them. - - Approaching the opening of the cave, Jrokah goes down hard. P¡¯taal turns at the sound of her loud grunt. His heart leaps in his chest as he lays eyes on the very large hybrid dragging Jrokah back into the inky blackness of the cavern. He unsheathes his knife and leaps after Jrokah. The hybrid catches sight of P¡¯taal and screeches a warning. P¡¯taal roars back, his mandibles flaring in anger. The beast screeches a second time and wraps a tentacle around Jrokah¡¯s knee. Squeezing her extremity beyond its limits, P¡¯taal cringes at the sound of breaking bone. Jrokah hollers out and ejects her wrist blade. She lashes out at the tentacle holding her now useless leg. P¡¯taal calls out in warning, but it is too late. Purple acidic blood pours over Jrokah¡¯s injured leg and she bellows louder. Fury seizes the hunt leader and she slashes numerous times with her blade. The creature attempts to grab her with its tentacles and she continues to hack them off. P¡¯taal uses this opportunity to engage the beast. He hurls two throwing disks, one after the other¡ªslicing off pieces of the large hybrid. While Jrokah hacks at it from below, he slices away at its head and torso. Surprisingly, not very much blood manages to hit the fallen leader. What few drops fall on Jrokah, she promptly ignores. By now, the flesh of her leg has mostly sloughed off. The pain is immeasurable, but she continues to fight on. The alternative is death. At last, the hybrid drops heavily to the ground, impaling itself on a stalagmite on the way down. The gaping maul is less than a meter from Jrokah¡¯s clawed feet. P¡¯taal rushes to Jrokah¡¯s side, inspecting the wound to her leg. P¡¯taal extracts his neutralizing aerosol from a pouch on his thigh. He is unsure if the tiny bottle will be enough.
Spraying down Jrokah¡¯s injury, P¡¯taal checks to make sure that the hybrid¡¯s blood is no longer caustic. Once he is finished cleaning the wound, P¡¯taal reaches down and picks up the female hunt leader. She shakes her beaded head. ¡°No. Leave me. You won¡¯t have time to get back if you have to carry me.¡± ¡°There¡¯s time,¡± P¡¯taal says. ¡°Do not argue. I must concentrate on running.¡± - - Entering the hunt ship, P¡¯taal heads for the stasis pods. He is only a few meters in when something slams against the side of the ship. With a growl, P¡¯taal lowers Jrokah to the cold floor and heads back to the flight cabin. Once in the cabin, P¡¯taal inputs several commands into the main computer. The ship¡¯s targeting system comes online, red lights flashing throughout the ship. A blast of plasma erupts from the front of the ship¡ªobliterating a hybrid which was trying to sneak close enough to get aboard. Another command, and the hull of the hunt ship becomes electrified. The creature ramming the hull gets an unpleasant shock the next time¡ªbeing hurled away by the force of the current which arcs to meet it. Satisfied that the defenses will keep the hybrids at bay, P¡¯taal returns to Jrokah¡¯s side. The hunt leader does not look good. She has lost a large amount of blood and her breathing is shallow. Removing, Jrokah¡¯s mask, P¡¯taal places the back of a hand against her cheek. Her flesh is cold and clammy. Not like a yautja¡¯s flesh at all. Jrokah¡¯s eyes shoot open as P¡¯taal attempts to draw back his hand. She offers him a weak smile. ¡°You¡­Promised¡­,¡± Jrokah says weakly. ¡°Are you not a hunter of your word?¡± P¡¯taal sits on the cold floor beside the fallen hunt leader, he places Jrokah¡¯s head in his lap and caresses her cheek. ¡°Yes. I will tell you. I will tell you everything you want to know.¡± Jrokah¡¯s smile grows larger and she reaches up a hand to touch P¡¯taal¡¯s cheek. ¡°But that is not all I wish to know,¡± she whispers softly, her meaning quite clear. Carefully removing Jrokah¡¯s head from his lap, P¡¯taal once again grabs her up in his arms. - - Jrokah breathes her last beside P¡¯taal in their shared bed. The blooded youth holds her body to him until it loses its warmth. Smiling wistfully, he bends and kisses her cold cheek. He will place her within a stasis chamber for the journey back to her home. But first, there is something else he must do. Xeno Hell: Chronicles of the Unblooded: Part 1D- Battle for Ravaarnak (Ptaal)
Home again P¡¯taal enters the Great Hall with a heavy heart. He stops at the bottom of a large staircase. Elder Glandis stands unmoving at the top, his green eyes narrowed. P¡¯taal kneels before the steps, the mask of his fallen hunt brother raised above his head. ¡°Elder. I am¡­Your son¡­H¡¯lvif. I am sorry, Elder.¡± Elder Glandis¡¯ eyes narrow impossibly further¡ªuntil they are almost shut. Without a word, Glandis whirls in the other direction. Mau-Nis, Elder Glandis¡¯ second-in-command, descends the steps. P¡¯taal rises from his place on the floor and offers the mask to Mau-Nis. ¡°He fought bravely. The odds¡­The odds were just too great. You will tell the elder?¡± P¡¯taal inquires. ¡°I don¡¯t have to,¡± Mau-Nis says. ¡°When nine warriors leave¡­And only one returns¡­That can mean only one thing. You have done well, P¡¯taal. Thank you for returning H¡¯lvif¡¯s mask.¡± ¡°Not just his mask, High Leader. I have brought his body as well. So that it may be enshrined with his honored kin. I could not leave him there.¡± Mau-Nis nods, but says nothing further. Ascending the stairs, he follows the trail of his honored elder. - - Elder Glandis stands before a large window, his mandibles drawn tightly shut, tusks folded across each other to form two x¡¯s. Mau-Nis strolls into the room, H¡¯lvif¡¯s mask gripped in his large hands. ¡°Elder. The surviving hunter wishes you to know¡­That H¡¯lvif¡¯s body was not left on Ravaar¡¯nak. He braved the dangers of the island to return your son to you. So that he may be enshrined with the rest of his honored kin.¡± Elder Glandis¡¯ eyes grow wide in their sockets, but he remains staring out the window, brow creased. When he speaks, his voice is deep and without emotion. ¡°You will make sure¡­This warrior is given a position within my contingent. Not many could have survived Ravaar¡¯nak. Many have tried. Even the team sent from Ta¡¯dnu was almost completely wiped out. They lost thirteen. But we regained control of the rogue settlement. That is all that matters.¡± ¡°Yes, Elder,¡± Mau-Nis says. Placing H¡¯lvif¡¯s mask on the large table, Mau-Nis exits the chamber¡ªin search of P¡¯taal. Sometime later P¡¯taal is wandering the halls, studying the many etchings of great battles carved into the walls. Numerous statues line the corridor, and P¡¯taal stops to scrutinize every one of them.
He looks up to see a beautiful female strolling in his direction. P¡¯taal¡¯s heart flutters in his chest as he recognizes her as Elder Glandis¡¯ much younger sister¡ªGlotis. Born after the joining of the two clans, Glotis has the same father as Glandis but a different mother. Like Mau-Nis, Glotis bears the thin frame and gray eyes common to the Nilyautha. Making her all the more beautiful.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Purposely stepping into Glotis'' path, P¡¯taal puts out both hands palm up. Glotis halts her gait and offers P¡¯taal a warm smile. ¡°You are P¡¯taal? The warrior who returned from Ravaar¡¯nak.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± P¡¯taal says over the sound of his racing heartbeat. ¡°I thought I recognized you. How is my brother treating you? It is not easy being one of his contingent. I am glad to be a scientist. So that I can spend as much time away from him as needed.¡± ¡°I am treated as fairly as can be expected. I am a hunter. I do not expect life to be easy.¡± ¡°I would say not,¡± Glotis chuckles. The sound of her laughter causes P¡¯taal¡¯s maleness to tingle and he subtly sniffs the air. He is not the only one interested in more than talk. Gently taking Glotis¡¯ hand, P¡¯taal presses his mouth to the flesh of her palm. While in this position, he gazes up at her with slitted eyes. ¡°I am truly sorry about the loss of H¡¯lvif. I know you two were very close.¡± A shadow crosses Glotis¡¯ face, and P¡¯taal immediately regrets his decision to bring H¡¯lvif¡¯s death into the conversation. ¡°I should not have mentioned¡ª¡± P¡¯taal begins. ¡°No. You have done nothing wrong. I¡¯ve been wanting to talk about it with someone for some time. Glandis refuses to talk about it. And Mau-Nis¡­Well¡­He does what he thinks is best. Which is not to talk about it. H¡¯lvif was more like a brother than a nephew. Us¡­Being so close in age. Glandis is so old. He thinks like one of the old ones. It was easier to talk to H¡¯lvif. We had more in common. It was I who taught him how to properly woo a female.¡± P¡¯taal¡¯s brow creases and he narrows his eyes to small slits. ¡°Did you now?¡± ¡°I did,¡± Glotis says, quite proud of herself. P¡¯taal takes the opportunity to kiss Glotis¡¯ palm a second time. ¡°I am here for you¡­Whenever you need me,¡± P¡¯taal says. - - Elder Glandis is once again in front of the large window when Mau-Nis enters the chamber. He crosses the room and stands beside his famed leader¡ªstaring down at the milling crowd below. Elder Glandis speaks without looking at his second-in-command.
¡°I called you here because there is a matter I wish to discuss,¡± Glandis explains. ¡°I am here, Elder. What is on your mind?¡± Mau-Nis says, nodding respectfully. ¡°It is about¡­An heir,¡± Elder Glandis says plainly. ¡°An heir? Yes, I see. Are you considering P¡¯taal, perhaps? Or one of your original contingent? Kiryzif? Or Luusen? Surely, not Curzu? He is more impetuous than your nephew. Which brings up another point. N-Vorl has been requesting an audience with you. It is the time of his blooding. He wishes to join with your team for the journey to Yultimavo." Elder Glandis grunts loudly and finally turns to Mau-Nis. ¡°N-Vorl is a cultivator now. What does he need with blooding?¡± ¡°Everyone knows he only remained with his family due to his father¡¯s mental state¡­His mother¡¯s ailments¡­And the love of a female. He has been making this request for many cycles now. Perhaps, this is an opportunity to heal old wounds. To allow him to prove himself. It is possible that the son can learn to be different than the father. He might make a good heir. If given the chance. In this way, the title can remain within your honored bloodline.¡± ¡°No. No. That will not do,¡± Elder Glandis says with a sardonic laugh. ¡°Besides, N¡¯bril would never allow it.¡± ¡°It will not be N¡¯bril¡¯s decision. A warrior¡¯s quest is his¡­And his alone,¡± Mau-Nis boldly interjects. Elder Glandis takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. ¡°I will allow N-Vorl to join us during our mission to Yultimavo. However, I will not even entertain allowing him to attain the title of Elder. He is much too volatile. There is always the possibility of failure¡­When a hunter goes out to battle the keinde amedha. As such, I have been considering an alternate heir for quite some time. The one I have chosen¡­You know quite well.¡± Mau-Nis offers Elder Glandis a wily grin. ¡°So you have chosen, Luusen. He is a little¡­Unpredictable at times. But I believe he will make a good heir.¡± ¡°No. I have not chosen Luusen,¡± Glandis says, gazing askance at Mau-Nis. ¡°Then who, Elder?¡± ¡°You are wearing his armor!¡± Elder Glandis says, casually gliding away from the window and exiting the chamber. Mau-Nis stands completely still. His mouth agape. ¡°Me?¡± Mau-Nis says, shock registering on his face. - - Mau-Nis is stilling standing in his spot in front of the window when Glotis swishes into the chamber. She goes about her task of collecting various items. After a moment, she notices Mau-Nis¡¯ statuelike pose and goes to him.
¡°Mau-Nis? What is wrong? You look as if someone has claimed you did not truly earn your blooding. What is it?¡± Mau-Nis turns to Glotis, his gray eyes wide in their sockets. ¡°Your brother¡­Elder Glandis¡­Has chosen an heir.¡± ¡°Oh no. From the looks of it¡­He has chosen poorly. Not N-Vorl? Surely, it can¡¯t be that bad?¡± Mau-Nis swallows before answering. ¡°No¡­In fact, it is very good.¡± Xeno Hell: Chronicles of the Unblooded Part 2A: N-Vorls Quest For Blood (Decisions) N-Vorl marches through the halls of his native habitat, a fierce scowl frozen to his yautja face. Several females, gathered at the entrance to a large chamber, shrink back as he approaches. One pair of eyes watches N-Vorl more keenly as he stalks past. Baileinakh stares at N-Vorl''s back with something between pride and sadness. If only he wasn''t so angry all the time. But with the odds stacked so greatly against him, who can blame him? Entering an elaborately decorated room, N-Vorl crosses to the expansive window overlooking the square. Nine enormous statues flank the window--four on one side; five on the other. Symbols of N-Vorl''s brave ancestors throughout the ages. The statue of N''bril, N-Vorl''s soon-to-be disgraced father, draws his attention and his ire. Even when posing for a statue, N-bril had opted for a less than respectable pose--his mandibles flaring and claws raised in silent aggression. To N-Vorl, the statue has more the look of a violent rogue than a respectable elder. He should have known his father would never be elder, and planned accordingly. Despite his father''s age, and experience in battle, the title was always destined to go to Glandis--his uncle. No way, the council forgives N''bril for this act. To kill the son of another elder is to dishonor his sacred line. No yautja forgives that. The sound of soft footsteps reaches N-Vorl''s sensitive ears and he glances over one shoulder. Mother. N-Vorl struggles to put on his most convincing smile. He turns to his mother and offers her his hands, palms up. "Mother," N-Vorl says in a deep whisper. Slebyra takes her son''s hands in her own. She gazes up at him with solemn eyes. "It is done. As Mahtyu lays dying...They have stripped N''bril of his birthright. He can no longer be elder...Of any clan. Despite the evidence in his favor...And despite the testimony of many others. The title will pass to Glandis and his line. N-Vorl absently squeezes his mother''s hands and then dials back his wrath. He grimaces and tilts his head by way of apology. "As they always wished it," he adds. Releasing his mother''s hands, N-Vorl turns back to the large window. He watches the throng of yautja hunters, cultivators, merchants, and scientists milling about below. An elderly hunter, with broken tusks and one leg, lies in a gutter--his hand out for even a crumb of food. Such a lowly place for a brave warrior to fall. Will that be his father''s fate? Or his?If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. N-Vorl observes as a young, attractive female offers the old hunter a bowl. The hunter takes the bowl and hungrily drinks the libations within. The female takes her bowl and nods respectfully--before hurrying away. A family member? A daughter? A past lover? Whatever her reasons, the female''s compassion stirs N-Vorl''s heart. His mind quickly shifts elsewhere. "N-Vorl? Did you hear me?" Slebyra calls. "I did not," N-Vorl says, pivoting to view his mother. "I said...All is not lost. Wiryil spoke on your father''s behalf. Despite the death of her son...She begged the council to show compassion. She does not wish to continue the bad blood between our clan and the Yrkig. N''bril will not be exiled. He will be given a role as Master Cultivator. So that honor may still be found in our line." Slebyra lightly touches N-Vorl''s face. "I do not believe they came to this decision lightly. To suddenly choose Glandis, when Mahtyu had made clear his choice, might have caused discontent within our clan. They are hoping that by showing mercy, they can avoid such a result. Either way, a portion of the clan will remain with your father upon this habitat. The rest will join with Glandis. The move is voluntary. Every yautja will choose for themselves where they will go for the foreseeable future. I hope...You will stay. For a time. I know the time of your blooding approaches...But I do not like the look in your father''s eye. He has not said much since the tribunal ended. I would never wish to see you toil in vain...Or give up what is dear to you. However, if you stay...At least until we can be sure all is well. Or, until I am...," Slebyra glances down at the floor, thoughts of her own mortality eating away at her resolve. Tears spring to her orangish eyes and she slowly raises them to meet the vibrant green ones of her only son. "Until I am no more...," Slebyra continues. N-Vorl draws in his mandibles and reaches for his mother. Embracing her tightly, N-Vorl breathes in her matronly scent. Memories of when he was a childling flash through his mind. How many times had Slebyra held him in this same way? And now, the disease of quick aging ravages his mother''s body--making her frail and her bones brittle. The life of a yautja can often be thousands of cycles. Yet, Slebyra is barely a tenth of that--death approaching faster than a vildif can run. N-Vorl presses his cheek against the hair at the top of his mother''s head. He breathes in deeply and slowly released the breath. "I will stay, Mother. For a time. But I must do what a hunter must do. I am a yautja." "I understand, N-Vorl," Slebyra says. Separating from N-Vorl, Slebyra kisses her son''s cheek. Her expression changes from one of sorrow--to one of knowing. "I am sure.... Baileinakh will be happy to hear this. She has already given your father her commitment to stay. I think she knows you...As well as I do. N-Vorl''s eyes grow wide and his tusks twitch. Baileinakh. Xeno Hell: Chronicles of the Unblooded Part 2B: NVorls Quest For Blood (Baileinakh) Baileinakh and several cultivators are working side by side, plucking healthy chruksh flowers from a long row of pink and purple trees. N''bril, trying desperately to appear committed to his new post and duties, strolls by the group of young cultivators. The disgraced leader''s arms are crossed behind his back and he wears a stern expression. Baileinakh flashes N-Vorl''s father a toothy yautja grin and nods respectfully. N''bril takes in her pleasant smile and appearance without much reaction. He strides past silently, headed for the habitat''s liquid processing facilities. N-Vorl will be there. In the processing laboratory, N-Vorl stands straight-backed in front of a tall machine resembling a scrawny pyramid. A test tube of light purple liquid is held between two clawed fingers of his right hand. He presses a rectangular button on the side of the anorexic pyramid and a thin metallic arm ropes out. The robotic arm slowly inches forward, until it is hovering above the test tube in N-Vorl''s hand. After a brief moment, several drops of a pale yellow liquid drip from the end, mixing with the purple liquid in the test tube. N-Vorl releases a deep sigh, watching the liquid change from light purple to almost crimson. Finally. "N-Vorl?" N''bril''s voice calls loudly from the lab''s entrance. N-Vorl rolls his green eyes and presses another button on the chuf''trhat machine. The robotic arm retracts into the machine as easily as it uncoiled from it. "Yes, Father! I am here," N-Vorl answers in a deep voice. N-Vorl hastily places a plug into the test tube in his hand, and shoves the tube inside a pouch on his belt. N''bril approaches his son with slight hesitance. Their relationship has been less than satisfactory, since the clan''s untimely split--and his own unspeakable shame. As a descendant of proud and mighty hunters, N''bril can understand his son''s hatred toward him. By staying behind, N-Vorl has abandoned all of his warrior dreams. No wonder, he is so angry. No wonder, he cannot see that he is losing the one thing he had hoped to keep close. Baileinakh. "You''ve been spending far too much time in the labs, N-Vorl. Your mother and I were hoping that you would have your evening meal with us. She has prepared the meat of the Vetlik. She knows it is your favorite. She hopes to bribe you from Baileinakh''s side. I told her it was a lost cause. But that I would try anyway." N''bril finishes the last of his statement with an uneasy chuckle. N-Vorl does not even look at his father. He pretends to examine the row of test tubes and chruksh samples spread across the table in front of him. "I have only begun to analyze the latest batch of Elixirs for Elder-Apparent Eflirus'' shipment. He wants 4,000 vials for his battle on Edros Planet. I do not have time, Father. Perhaps, when I have finished. Another day." N''bril acknowledges N-Vorl''s blatant lie with a silent head nod. He says nothing as he turns and exits the lab. N-Vorl''s heart hammers in his chest and he retrieves the test tube from the pouch on his belt. He stares at the liquid within, an angry expression altering his visage. - - "N-Vorl...Where are you? Stop playing games," Baileinakh says in a strained voice. Hiking up the bottom of her flowing pink cultivator''s robe, she makes her way through the densely packed chruksh trees. It won''t be long before the trees will need to be cut back again. Like the ooman planet called bamboo, chruksh trees grow at a rapid rate, their limbs intertwining within days instead of the weeks it takes most plants to grow.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Reaching a clearing, at the garden''s center, Baileinakh places a slender hand on her shapely hips. She narrows her hazel eyes and glancea around knowingly. A rustling noise behind her, tells Baileinakh everything she needs to know. She is prepared to turn just as N-Vorl''s hands covers her eyes. "Who dares take away my sight?" Baileinakh repeats the usual joke. N-Vorl lowers his mouth to beside his lover''s ear and whispers softly. "Who dares...Indeed?" Baileinakh spins to face N-Vorl. He drops his hands to her shoulders and she places her hands on his waist. "I have brought you something," N-Vorl says. He uses one hand to reach into his belt. Retrieving a test tube of red liquid, he smiles wolfishly at Baileinakh. She shakes her head in mock disapproval. "One of these days, N-Vorl--" Baileinakh begins to say. "You always say that. But it will never happen, my love. I am the Master Cultivator''s son. They would not dare accuse me. And I have no plans to tell them. It is only one of a test batch. No harm done." Baileinakh takes the offered elixir and chuckles softly. She offers N-Vorl a wolfish grin. "You do realize...The elixir should be purple? Not red? What have you done to it, N-Vorl?" "Anything which will keep you by my side, Baileinakh," N-Vorl quips. "N-Vorl?!" "I simply altered the formula so that it is closer to what our ancestor''s would have partaken of. I have done nothing which will change the original intent or cause harm. I find that I like this color better. It is like the flowing blood of an ooman." "Oh really, N-Vorl. Your hatred of the oomans is quite...Disturbing. In all of your previous travels...You''ve never even met one. The stories the others tell may be exaggerated. I find hating an entire species to be...Well... Nevermind. I imagine they would feel the same about us." N-Vorl cups Baileinakh''s face while pressing their foreheads together. "I have upset you?" "No...I mean...I know you''re hurting, N-Vorl. I know you wish to hunt again...Like the others. But this obsession many males, of our kind, have with trophies and killing...Bothers me greatly. It''s why I chose to stay on with your father as a cultivator. I jumped at the opportunity because I wanted to be surrounded by beauty and death. Not the constant barrage of war jargon, and preparations for battle. I am happy to no longer hear casters exploding random targets...At almost all hours of the day. I enjoy our walks in the garden...Instead of watching you hurl sticks at charging Vildif beasts." N-Vorl remains quiet, allowing Baileinakh to vent her frustrations. She stares up into his face. "Our clan is already so much less than it was. Wars and disease...Death and infighting...Has already weakened us. Now this...Your father''s fall from grace. The clan has been split yet again. You''re a cultivator. Yet, like many others...You still talk of war and killing. And trophies. Mostly, about killing oomans. You''re projecting, N-Vorl. Because you are angry. I don''t know...If I can stand it anymore." N-Vorl''s face falls as he struggles to absorb Baileinakh''s angry words. "What are you saying, Baileinakh? Do you no longer love me?" Baileinakh''s eyes widen and she grips one of N-Vorl''s hands in both of her slender ones. "I''m not saying that! I just think...You need to make a choice. Are you a cultivator...Or are you a warrior? Right now, you''re neither. And I can''t stand to see what it is doing to you. I think you should approach Elder Glandis again. Ask to join his battle group. Get your blooding...And this desire for trophies...Out of your system. It is long overdue. Then...We''ll figure out where that leads us. Sometimes, you can be two things at once. Sometimes, not. You have the makings of a great warrior, N-Vorl. I''m not sure...If that''s what I love about you. I suppose...We''ll see." N-Vorl brings Baileinakh''s hands to his mouth and kisses them. He nods and turns to leave. Baileinakh''s voice halts him. "Where are you going? Do you not want to see what response your enlivened elixir will elicit?" N-Vorl''s smile returns to his face. He slowly turns to peer at Baileinakh--just as she finishes downing the last few drops of crimson fluid from the test tube. Baileinakh tosses the tube into the nearby brush and opens her arms wide. N-Vorl needs no more invitation than that. He is upon the beckoning female in only seconds. Rubbing his left cheek against Baileinakh''s, N-Vorl inhales her scent. Yes. He has made the right choice. Baileinakh''s breathing slows as the elixir begins having an effect. N-Vorl caresses her back through the material of her robe. When he senses that she is near readiness, he stoops and picks her up. Heading for their favorite spot, near the statue of his deceased grandfather, N-Vorl whispers softly into Baileinakh ''s ear. Xeno Hell: Chronicles of the Unblooded Part 2C: N-Vorls Quest For Blood (Prove Yourself Worthy) Part 3 Spenoeres- Hunt Planet 538 Elder Glandis¡¯ cleansing squad is preparing to travel down to the overrun hunt planet. Nine of the Fihgi Clan¡¯s sturdiest hunters have been chosen for the task. Three teams of three, each responsible for exterminating the dangerous black serpents within their assigned area. N-Vorl flexes his hands in anticipation of the hunt, his first after many cycles of a season as an Apprentice Cultivator. Worry seizes N-Vorl¡¯s mind, and he absently runs a hand over his combistick. He can only hope that his time as a cultivator has not softened his reflexes. As if sensing N-Vorl¡¯s inner turmoil, Hunt Leader Luusen saunters arrogantly into the weapons storage bay. His eyes immediately fall on N-Vorl. A snide smirk alters the hunt leader¡¯s already monstrous countenance. The jagged white edges of a scar above Luusen¡¯s right eye open like a tiny mouth trying to breathe. ¡°Well¡­Well,¡± Luusen exclaims in a mocking tone. ¡°The son of the Master Cultivator¡­Tamer of chruksh. I never thought I¡¯d see you on a hunt. Did procuring the elders¡¯ elixirs become too much for you? Do you want for death?¡± Behind Luusen, Curzu and Kiryzif¡ªthe other members of Luusen¡¯s team¡ªgrunt or snicker loudly. This team is unusual, made up of three true-blood brothers. Of enormous stock and sturdy build; they dwarf even N-Vorl. This does not deter N-Vorl from speaking his mind. Only halfway turning his head to look at Luusen, N-Vorl offers the hunt leader a snide grin of his own. ¡°I may be a cultivator, Luusen¡­,¡± N-Vorl says in a low voice. ¡°But by the eye of the universe¡­.I swear an oath that you will be dead not long after the hunt begins.¡± Curzu and Kiryzif glance over at Luusen with bulging eyes, only half-believing that N-Vorl would dare insult their brother¡ªa hunt leader, no less. Luusen¡¯s eyes narrow menacingly and he places a large hand on one hip. ¡°Oh¡­So now you are a seer? Then, why could you not foresee your father¡¯s shameful downfall?¡± Anger and wrath travels through N-Vorl like an untamed wildfire. His hand flies to his combistick without any thought of the consequences. Only Elder Glandis'' booming voice stays N-Vorl¡¯s hand. ¡°You will be still!¡± Elder Glandis peers around the room, taking in every member of his contingent. Glandis¡¯ green eyes linger on N-Vorl, and the combistick gripped in his hand¡ªbut not yet drawn. N-Vorl slowly, and ashamedly, removes his hand from his weapon. Every head in the room bows in deference to the approaching elder. ¡°We are all of the Fihgi clan. Whether we are cultivator¡­.¡± At this, Elder Glandis narrows his eyes in N-Vorl¡¯s direction. He then turns his hawkish gaze on Hunt Leader Luusen. ¡°...Or hunter. The same blood runs through many of us. You will remember who the true enemy is. And it is not your hunter brethren.¡± Elder Glandis sweeps the right side of his robe with a clawed hand, placing the same hand on his large hip. All seriousness is wiped from the patriarch¡¯s face in a moment, replaced by a viral energy of excitement. ¡°Let the hunt begin!¡± - - N-Vorl storms down a darkened corridor. One of many which makes up the labyrinth of Yultimavo. Loud screeches from the deadly black serpents¡ªthe keinde amedha¡ªfill the corridor. Though blood flows freely from several gashes along N-Vorl¡¯s face, neck, and chest; he refuses to give in to the pain. An acid burn, made by the dripping talon of a serpent beast, showcases the symbol of his clan on N-Vorl¡¯s left temple. The mark is only visible when the tired warrior turns his head quickly¡ªbeaded braids whipping every which way. A serpent scrambles along the wall and launches itself at N-Vorl. His plasmacaster aims and catches the dreaded beast midflight. The creature is hurled up and back, acidic blood spraying away from N-Vorl. A second black serpent scurries up and onto a nearby pillar. The beast hisses at N-Vorl and its secondary mouth is briefly visible, the lips of the creature curling with hatred. N-Vorl does not give the creature time to plan a move. Gripping a large blade on his hip, N-Vorl yanks it free and hurls it at the beast. As the blade spins midair, it opens to reveal two more serrated tips. N-Vorl¡¯s aim is perfect, slicing the top of the serpent¡¯s head clean off. The yellow network of nerves and tissues pulsates, acidic blood running down the black carapace of the beast. It screeches and lurches forward. Only to fall in a heap. N-Vorl approaches the downed beast as if it is the most natural thing to do in the world. He kneels beside corpse and ejects his wrist blades. He severs what is left of the serpent beast¡¯s head before sawing off the spiny tall and removing its secondary mouth. Spraying his wrist blades with another layer of neutralizing aerosol, he does the same for his trophies. Climbing to his feet, N-Vorl attaches the dead serpent¡¯s tail and smaller mouth to his implement belt. He cocks his head to one side and listens for the sound of talons scraping against stone or metal. All is silent, save for a few isolated screeches some distance away. No doubt dangerous fun for his fellow hunters to enjoy. N-Vorl turns a corner and nearly trips over a large corpse sprawled across the ground. This corpse is not one of the dreaded black beasts. It is that of one of N-Vorl¡¯s hunter brethren¡ªHunt Leader Luusen. The deceased leader¡¯s body is badly mutilated; most of the yautja¡¯s head is gone and part of his left arm. A large hole in Luusen¡¯s chest indicates the point where a serpent¡¯s spiny tail entered his bloodied torso. N-Vorl drops to a crouch and removes Luusen¡¯s combistick from the hunt leader¡¯s stiffened right hand. He will no longer need it. Standing up once again, N-Vorl peers down the darkened corridor, in the direction of the loud screeches. The queen. He will deal with her next. - - Curzu and Kiryzif quietly stalk the labyrinth, plasmacasters angled and combisticks gripped in tightly clenched fists. A wound on the side of Kiryzif¡¯s head speaks of a near miss with a serpent¡¯s secondary mouth. Had Curzu not been there, to propel the beast backward with his netgun, Kiryzif would surely be dead. They have seen no sign of Luusen since a much larger black beast injured the hunt leader and carried him off. If Luusen were able, he would have returned by now. He is most likely dead, or infected with the Wirik¡ªdreaded offspring of the serpent queen. This knowledge settles coldly in the remaining brothers¡¯ hearts, and they move forward with an abundance of caution. Both brothers are unprepared when N-Vorl rounds the corner, combistick drawn and shoulder cannon angling. Curzu¡¯s observant gaze falls to the second combistick attached to N-Vorl¡¯s belt. The youngest of the brothers, Curzu gnashes his teeth and takes on a battle stance. ¡°Luusen¡¯s battle stick¡­.How did you come about it?¡± Curzu growls in a deep voice. ¡°Did you lie in wait for him, while he was weakened by the serpent¡¯s tail?¡±Stolen story; please report. N-Vorl steps closer to the two brothers, causing Kiryzif to growl deep in his throat. Raising one hand, N-Vorl shakes his head in a negative fashion. ¡°Before we landed on this planet....I warned Luusen that he would be dead not long after the hunt began. His arrogance made him doubt my words. I only took from him what is owed me. I swore an oath by the eye of the universe. His battle stick....Now belongs to me. We can stand here arguing about it¡­.Or we can kill the serpent mother together. Either way, we may never leave Yultimavo alive. Let us follow the words of our elder¡­And destroy the true enemy.¡± Curzu is still angered by the idea of Luusen¡¯s combistick hanging from N-Vorl¡¯s belt¡ªlike a prized trophy. However, Kiryzif finds truth in N-Vorl¡¯s words. He nods compliantly. ¡°Let us kill the serpent mother,¡± Kiryzif utters in a low voice. ¡°Do you know where she is, N-Vorl?¡± N-Vorl only smiles. - - Loud screeches echo through the queen¡¯s antechamber as chaos breaks out near the entrance. Plasmacaster fire shears limbs off of scrambling xenos, as the four yautja warriors drop their cloaks and storm into the chamber. Binyolsir, the largest of the warrior group, charges madly forward. The giant hunter¡¯s body is completely covered with various pieces of shiny armored skin--taken from his serpent foes. The other yautja are also armored in black or brown carapace, the stolen skins helping to hide their presence from even the serpents¡¯ eerie powers of sight. Kiryzif and Curzu focus their attacks on any approaching serpents, while Binyolsir clears a path for N-Vorl. A path to the queen. N-Vorl aids Binyolsir in his task as much as possible, firing at enemies, and taking down others with his combistick. At one point, N-Vorl rips free Luusen¡¯s combistick from his implement belt and fights with a combination of both. Before long, only a small cluster of xenos is all that stands between N-Vorl and the cursed serpent mother. Along Binyolsir¡¯s body, cracks and gouges are evident in his carapace armor, where teeth and talons attempted to rip skin from bone¡ªonly to be met with the skins of their serpent brethren. Binyolsir nods to N-Vorl once, and motions for Luusen¡¯s combistick. N-Vorl reluctantly hands it over. How can he deny one who is willing to die for him? For them all? Gnashing his mouthparts, and flaring his mandibles, N-Vorl lets out an eardrum bursting roar. The nearby serpents screech in answer, before surging forward. N-Vorl does not wait to see what will happen. He aims his netgun at the queen¡¯s enormous head crest and fires. Unlike with other netguns, N-Vorl has modified his gun to also eject a grappling hook and chain. Gripping his weapon tightly, N-Vorl travels upward, propelled toward the queen by the tremendous force released. Leaving two converging serpents spitting and hissing below. The nethook punches through the upper portion of the queen¡¯s broad crest and she screeches loudly, tossing her head to one side. N-Vorl swings wildly, at the end of the chain, but does not let go. He expertly begins to climb, as the chain draws back in. The queen continues to toss her head, snapping her gargantuan teeth and hissing. More than once, she attempts to angle her head in such a way that N-Vorl will fall into the side of her mouth. Each time, N-Vorl manages to escape her jaws by only a hair. Growing desperate, the queen uses her own tail to jab at him. She ends up with several bleeding wounds for her troubles. She bellows with every failed attempt. N-Vorl seems to be in many places at once; dodging, stabbing, climbing, and strategically firing his plasmacaster¡ªtenderizing the hard meat. Acid drips fall on his hands and legs from the queen¡¯s bleeding wounds, but he ignores them. Their pain is nothing compared to what she will do if she catches him between her fearsome teeth. Finally reaching a favorable spot, at the top of the queen¡¯s head, N-Vorl plants his feet and roars loudly a second time. The queen answers him with a loud screech¡ªa call for aid from her scurrying children below. There is no time for a rescue. N-Vorl plunges his combistick as far into the queen¡¯s head as it can go. The serpent mother lets out a shrill bellow and tosses her head back. N-Vorl, moving to escape a large gout of acid, nearly slips off of her head. The netchain in one hand, he uses a foot to stomp his combistick further into the queen¡¯s ginormous cranium. Her teeth gnash and she shakes her head slowly from side to side. The secondary mouth slides out of her maul¡ªthe outer lips of her larger mouth curled in agony and disbelief. After a moment, she is still. Her large body held stationary by the vile ovipositor and clear membranes connecting her to the walls and ceiling. N-Vorl cautiously crosses the distance from one side of her head to the other and peaks over. The noise of plasmacaster fire has lessened. Only two warriors are left standing¡ªbleeding and fighting against the remaining horde of serpents in the antechamber. N-Vorl¡¯s heart drops when he is unable to find Binyolsir. In a far corner, Curzu and Kiryzif continue to fire upon their foes. From his vantage point atop the queen¡¯s head, N-Vorl attempts to even the odds. - - By the time the battle in the antechamber is finally over, the warriors¡¯ plasmacasters are red-hot from firing. N-Vorl rips free his nethook from the queen¡¯s crest and makes his way to the ground. A few meters away from the serpent mother¡¯s hulking corpse, N-Vorl finds Binyolsir. The brave warrior is still alive¡ªbarely. A severed serpent tail sticking up through his ribcage. Green blood completely covers Binyolsir¡¯s torso. He will not have long to live. N-Vorl drops down to a crouch and touches his hunt brother¡¯s shoulder. Binyolsir forces his eyes to open and stares up at his childhood friend. ¡°You made it,¡± Binyolsir says between a wet cough. ¡°You killed the serpent mother. Not bad for a cultivator¡¯s son!¡± Though N-Vorl is aware that Binyolsir is only teasing, the joke makes him recoil inside. Will he ever be rid of his father¡¯s shame? Maybe. Maybe after word of this battle has spread. And after he takes Baileinakh as his mate. Then, the others will see. ¡°Yes,¡± N-Vorl manages to say. ¡°She is dead.¡± Binyolsir raises a hand and N-Vorl grips it firmly. Binyolsir¡¯s body trembles and his eyes briefly flutter shut. It won¡¯t be long now. ¡°Why did you not come with us, N-Vorl?¡± Binyolsir inquires. ¡°Why did you not join with Elder Glandis when the clan was split? You were always one of the best fighters during training. Why did you choose to be a cultivator¡­.When you could have been a great warrior? I know, you will be still.¡± N-Vorl lowers his head and looks away. When he turns his head back, Binyolsir¡¯s eyes are lifeless and empty. N-Vorl places the back of his hand against Binyolsir¡¯s forehead in mourning. He glances up to find Curzu and Kiryzif staring in his direction. Climbing to his feet, N-Vorl opens his wrist device and inputs the detonation sequence. He marches back to the queen and shoves the device into her partially opened maul. When N-Vorl takes off running, Curzu and Kiryzif are not far behind. 7 Seasons Later Home Upon arriving home, N-Vorl is met by a throng of excited and gaping yautja¡ªold and young, male and female, cultivator and hunter alike. Several females eye N-Vorl favorably, one female offering him an elixir of sloso and utiy¡ªa powerful and intoxicating drink for times of mating. N-Vorl takes any offered gifts, and offers many greetings, but his eyes search the crowd for only one face. Baileinakh. When his eyes do not find the one he seeks, N-Vorl pulls a fellow cultivator aside. ¡°Ghylri¡­.Have you seen Baileinakh?¡± ¡°Last I saw, she was in the nursery,¡± Ghylri says. ¡°She was performing some tests on the latest crop.¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± N-Vorl exclaims. Slapping Ghylri¡¯s right shoulder, N-Vorl rushes toward the plant nursery. He only stops when Ghylri calls to him. ¡°Congratulations on the hunt, N-Vorl! Now, you are a true warrior! Never forget that!¡± N-Vorl nods agreeably and hurries off. - - N-Vorl rips free a sprig of chruksh and removes everything but the flower. With a wide grin, he heads for his favorite spot. The place where he and Baileinakh made known their passion¡ªthe marble bench in the heart of the nursery, beneath the gaze of his famed grandfather. Parting the leaves, his heart does a frantic leap. Standing a few yards away is Baileinakh, but she is not alone. She is in the arms of a fellow yautja¡ªa fellow cultivator. N-Vorl¡¯s eyes narrow and his mouthparts work as if he is masticating the very image before him¡ªtrying to digest its meaning. He slowly begins to back away, the truth becoming clear. Baileinakh seems to sense his presence and glances up. Baileinakh¡¯s eyes widen and she releases her grip on her lover. She shrugs loose and races towards the retreating N-Vorl. ¡°N-Vorl¡­.Wait! You don¡¯t understand. It¡¯s not what you think!¡± Baileinakh pleads uselessly. N-Vorl keeps his voice level as he addresses her. His green eyes are another story, revealing pain deeper than any he would ever think to speak aloud. ¡°I understand perfectly, Baileinakh! It is not that you do not wish to be mated to a cultivator. It is that you do not wish to be mated to this cultivator. You should have told me before I went to Yultimavo. I would have remained with my uncle¡¯s contingent. Maybe¡­.It is not too late.¡± Turning on his heels, N-Vorl practically marches away from Baileinakh. He will seek out his mother and father¡ªbefore returning to Elder Glandis¡¯ flagship. Xeno Hell: Chronicles of the Unblooded Part 2D: N-Vorls Quest For Blood (Shame) Sometime later Aboard Yutvru Habitat-Elder Glandis'' Dominion A thin guard, thin by yautja standards, exits the door to Elder Glandis¡¯ meeting chamber and motions N-Vorl inside. Exhaling deeply, N-Vorl strides semi-confidently towards the other yautja and the room beyond. He has never been particularly close to Elder Glandis¡ªhis uncle. The shame brought about by N¡¯bril¡¯s fall from grace seems to have exacerbated the already existing rift between elder and nephew. Glandis shows very little patience when dealing with him. A nagging suspicion at the back of N-Vorl¡¯s mind is that his uncle fears he will try to seize power. Perhaps through a covert and violent coup. Such uprisings are not new to the yautja. In fact, many in the FihgI Clan are transplants from the Nilyautha Clan. Absorbed into the Fihgi after several cycles of war with other clans diminished both of their numbers. Not only would a coup be reckless, it would be utterly impossible for N-Vorl to pull off. After several cycles of a season serving as a cultivator, N-Vorl has lost any standing amongst his hunter brothers and sisters. Even after the victory at Yultimavo, many yautja still refuse to meet his eye. Females seem especially confused, both wanting and simultaneously being revolted by him. N-Vorl strolls to just in front of the grand table at the center of Glandis¡¯ wide and elaborate meeting chamber. N-Vorl bows his head respectfully and keeps his head low as he glances up at his leader. ¡°Esteemed Elder, I wish to have an audience with you,¡± N-Vorl explains in a strong but deferential tone. ¡°As I have been told,¡± Glandis intones, a bitter tinge to his words. ¡°What has brought you to my chamber, youngblood? Speak it. I have more pressing matters to attend to.¡± N-Vorl straightens up and eyes his warrior uncle with hardened eyes. The tall guard from the entrance comes to stand beside Elder Glandis. He watches N-Vorl with narrowed gray eyes. N-Vorl feels as if he has seen this hunter before, searching his mind for the exact time. ¡°Elder, I have been on Yutvru for nearly four seasons now. I left behind my family¡ªand my lover...So that I might join your battle contingent. I have waited patiently for word on your decision. I only come to you now¡­To ask this of you again.¡± The guard beside Elder Glandis leans and whispers into his leader¡¯s ear. Glandis¡¯ brow knits, but otherwise, he shows no other reaction to what is said. Peering across the large table at N-Vorl, Elder Glandis offers his nephew a snide smirk. ¡°Are you a childling, N-Vorl?¡± Elder Glandis questions mockingly. In the far right corner, Curzu chuffs loudly. Kiryzif, in the opposite corner, simply crosses his arms over his barrel chest and glowers in N-Vorl¡¯s direction. The guard at Elder Glandis¡¯ side merely smiles. N-Vorl¡¯s blood runs cold in his veins and he inhales sharply. ¡°No, Elder¡­I am not!¡± N-Vorl answers as forcefully as he dares. ¡°Good!¡± Elder Glandis replies coldly. ¡°Leaving behind one¡¯s family¡­.Is almost nearly a fact of life. We hunters must do it every time we go out to battle the enemy. Leaving your family does not qualify you to serve in my battle group. Even with one such as yours.¡± Curzu chuffs a second time and the guard by Elder Glandis¡¯ side shoots him a smoldering look. This shuts the instigating hunter up and he repositions himself to stand a little straighter. Elder Glandis continues his tirade in a level tone, mockery dripping off of every syllable. ¡°And as for your lover, N-Vorl¡­Did she not love another?¡± At this, even the guard beside Elder Glandis drops his gaze. N-Vorl tries his best to appear nonplussed. ¡°Yes, Elder!¡± ¡°And why was that?¡± Glandis presses, glorifying in N-Vorl¡¯s misery. ¡°She¡­She could not see past my father¡¯s shame,¡± N-Vorl admits, clenching a fist behind his back. ¡°She no longer viewed me as a true yautja¡­For casting off my warrior creed in loyalty to my father¡­And to her. She wanted one who could be true¡­One who was not split by indecision.¡± Elder Glandis leans forward, pressing his elbows onto the surface of the metal table and intertwining the fingers of both hands. ¡°Then, why should I see anything different?¡± N-Vorl¡¯s body begins to quake with growing agitation and anger. The yautja beside Elder Glandis; whom N-Vorl suspects is the famed Nilyauthan hunter, Mau-Nis, watches him with marked attention. ¡°What of Yultimavo? Did I not defeat a serpent queen? Did I not bring glory to you, honored uncle? And to our clan?¡± Unclasping his fingers, Elder Glandis slams a large fist upon the table. N-Vorl¡¯s mouth clamps shut and he stands erect, eyes searching his uncle¡¯s angry face. ¡°Yultimavo? And did you defeat this serpent queen¡­All by yourself?¡± Glandis growls in a deep, cryptic tone. N-Vorl releases a sigh and slightly lowers his gaze. The plan to defeat the serpent queen of yultimavo had been a good one. His plan. But at every turn, it has backfired. It is not unheard of for yautja to hunt as a team. However, rumors that N-Vorl may have murdered Hunt Leader Luusen began to circulate soon after their glorious victory. Probably, stoked by Curzu or Kiryzif. N-Vorl''s ingenious battle plan had quickly spiraled into a conspiracy to cover an assumed misdeed. ¡°No, Elder! I did not.¡± ¡°Did you not defeat the serpent mother with the aid of a team?¡± ¡°Yes, Elder.¡± ¡°If memory serves me¡­It was Luusen¡¯s battle stick which helped you to slay many serpents. And Binyolsir¡¯s plan to use the hard meat¡¯s skin to disrupt their vision. Am I correct, youngblood?¡± ¡°You are correct, Elder,¡± N-Vorl says, sinking further and further into self-recrimination. ¡°Without the aid of Curzu and Kiryzif¡­You would be as dead as Luusen!¡± Elder Glandis roars. ¡°You are not the warrior you believe yourself to be! Binyolsir¡­.Was one of my best hunters. There will never be another such as him. You will not be given a place in my battle group until you have earned it. Or until I have a need for one such as you. I will say no more on the matter.¡± N-Vorl lowers his head in deference and backs away a few steps. Raising his head, N-Vorl manages to catch the eye of Elder Glandis¡¯ second-in-command. The thin guard is still watching him with suspicion. Nodding to the guard as well, N-Vorl turns on his heels and marches away. Behind him, Elder Glandis speaks in a hushed tone. ¡°What do you think, Mau-Nis?¡± ¡°I think there may be trouble,¡± Mau-Nis replies. ¡°He should be watched very carefully.¡± N-Vorl¡¯s chest tightens and his mandibles flare open. He exits Glandis¡¯ meeting chamber in an unspeakable rage.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. - - Many cycles later N-Vorl stands silent guard in front of the entrance to the weapons storage wing of Elder Glandis¡¯ expansive habitat. A male hunter and his female companion are approaching at a slow gait. N-Vorl smiles wistfully as he recognizes them both. The male hunter, P¡¯taal, received his blooding on the Isle of Ravaar¡¯nak¡ªa former rogue prison settlement. From what N-Vorl has heard, P¡¯taal slay more than three dozen ghkivu hybrids with only his caster and combistick. No small feat. The ghkivu is normally found only in watery places. However, on the Isle of Ravaar¡¯nak, ghkivu hybrids have evolved to live on both land and water¡ªafter many seasons of their ancestors serving as hosts for the dreaded black serpents. Plasmacasters are nearly useless underwater. If a ghkivu is able to drag a hunter into the depths, it is almost an assured death. The female hunter, Yuljunu, is one N-Vorl has had his eye on for many seasons now. A guard in Glandis¡¯ contingent, Yuljunu is fierce¡ªbut extremely female. Her scent is truly intoxicating, sometimes causing N-Vorl to feel dizzy and lose focus. He is certain that is why P¡¯taal is never far from Yuljunu¡¯s side. What are big brother¡¯s for? Well, half-brother. ¡°Hello, Yuljunu!¡± N-Vorl says as the two hunters approach. N-Vorl offers Yuljunu his kindest smile. Yuljunu returns his smile with a wide grin, her sharpened teeth glistening in the light. ¡°Hello, N-Vorl! Weapons today? Not Research and Development? My how you move around!¡± Yuljunu gently teases. N-Vorl can¡¯t help but notice the tense expression on P¡¯taal¡¯s face as Yuljunu walks over to N-Vorl and offers him her hand palm up. N-Vorl takes Yuljunu¡¯s hand and lightly kisses her palm. ¡°Yes,¡± N-Vorl says, giving Yuljunu a sly glance. ¡°The elder likes to keep me busy. If I were not¡­I might find other things to do.¡± Yuljunu laughs loudly, but P¡¯taal bristles. N-Vorl decides it might be better to tone down his antics. He releases Yuljuna¡¯s hand and takes a step back. ¡°We are going to the hall for evening meal,¡± Yuljunu says, a grin tugging at her mouthparts. ¡°You will join us¡­Once you are relieved here?¡± N-Vorl glances askance at P¡¯taal before offering his reply, mandibles spreading wide. ¡°Of course.¡± Yuljunu nods and strolls away. P¡¯taal follows behind her at a steady pace. He only glances over his shoulder once, to glower at N-Vorl. But once, is enough. N-Vorl returns P¡¯taal¡¯s ire with a wide grin. - - The Eating Hall N-Vorl enters the expansive dining hall and searches for P¡¯taal and Yuljunu. He finds them at a small circular table near the back of the enormous room. N-Vorl heads for the table as if there are wings on his feet. In his state of mental elation, N-Vorl does not see the large warrior intersecting his path, until he nearly plows into him. Both hunters stand absolutely still, sizing each other up. It is the second warrior who finally breaks the silence and shifts his gaze. ¡°Watch where you are walking, cultivator!¡± the second warrior bellows. N-Vorl remains silent. Stepping closer into the other hunter¡¯s personal space, N-Vorl lightly touches Luusen¡¯s combistick on his belt. The offending hunter¡¯s eyes wander to where N-Vorl¡¯s hand is resting and his brow creases. ¡°Are you threatening me, cultivator¡¯s son? I am a member of Elder Glandis¡¯ elite battle group. One of his blood-sworn protectors. There are severe punishments for such transgressions.¡± N-Vorl exhales deeply and blinks both eyes in a bored fashion. He peers over at Yuljunu, who has risen from her spot at the table, observing the disagreement from afar. ¡°I have no need to threaten you,¡± N-Vorl growls. ¡°Your fear is evident in the fact that you cannot even look me in the eye.¡± The second yautja growls and bares his teeth in a sign of aggression. N-Vorl merely smiles. As the other hunter angrily ejects his wrist blade, two more appear at his neck. Surprised, the warrior turns to see who has dared draw down on him. Yuljunu fixes the bewildered hunter with a hateful stare. ¡°What do you think you are doing, Kradha?¡± Yuljunu challenges the much larger hunter. ¡°You may be one of Elder Glandis¡¯ chosen¡­But N-Vorl is still the blood kin of an elder. Your actions bring shame.¡± Kradha looks as if he wishes to speak, but decides against it. He shoots N-Vorl one final glare before going about his business. Yuljunu turns to N-Vorl and retracts her wrist blade. ¡°You should be more careful, N-Vorl!¡± she teases. ¡°Come, let us eat.¡± - - 23 days later Yuljunu leans out over the balcony of the great hall. Yautja of all shapes, sizes, ages, titles, and ranks mill about the square below. There is one face which Yuljunu continually searches for, but cannot find. A pair of hands covers Yuljunu¡¯s eyes and she issues a tiny gasp. N-Vorl does his best to disguise his voice. ¡°Who dares to shut the eyes of the mighty Yuljunu?¡± N-Vorl says. He chuckles softly, nearly giving himself away. ¡°Who would dare? I know of only one?¡± Yuljunu responds with a growing smile. N-Vorl removes his hands from Yuljunu¡¯s eyes and reaches for her right hand. He spins her gently to face him. Cupping the left side of Yuljunu¡¯s face, N-Vorl offers the fierce female his biggest smile. ¡°Where is P¡¯taal? So that he may protect you from my accursed wiles?¡± Yuljunu¡¯s eyes flutter briefly shut as she bursts into laughter. She lightly brushes a hand down N-Vorl''s back. ¡°He is in training for another hunt. As you should be, N-Vorl!¡± ¡°Aha. But I have already completed my training for today. I¡¯m an early riser. I had hoped to catch you alone.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Yuljunu utters, suddenly weary. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°So that I may give you this!¡± N-Vorl reaches into a pouch on his implement belt and removes a small vial. Inside the vial is a pale purple liquid. He places it into the center of Yuljunu¡¯s left hand. She inspects the liquid inside, by holding it up to the light. She lowers the vial and twists her mouth into a questioning grimace. ¡°What is it?¡± ¡°Essence of chruksh,¡± N-Vorl says confidently. Yuljunu¡¯s brow creases and she shakes her head disapprovingly. ¡°As a cultivator¡­Uh¡­Former cultivator,¡± Yuljunu says, faltering. ¡°I would expect you to know that Chruskh Elixir is red¡­.Not purple.¡± ¡°No¡­You are remembering the way it has been for many cycles of a season...The way it was in the beginning¡­When our kind first discovered its uses. Have you not read the ancient texts? The vial I have given to you¡­I simply tweaked the formula to be more in line with what our kind was used to mere cycles ago. It was I who altered the 4,000 vials sent to Elder-Apparent Eflirus¡­Not long after the clan¡¯s split. He requested it should remain that way. And others have followed suit. Such was the strength and potency of the elixirs I created. With his victory at Edros, I unwittingly gained an ally,¡± N-Vorl replies cryptically. Yuljunu stares at the vial a second longer, and then places it gently in a compartment on her belt. N-Vorl watches her hands as they go to her hips. His eyes take in every inch of her form from head to toe. The skirt and sleeveless garment under Yuljunu¡¯s mesh suit do little to hide her natural suppleness. How he would love to make many descendants with this female warrior. ¡°Come, let us sit,¡± Yuljunu says, pointing to a stone bench a few yards away. N-Vorl follows his intended lover to the bench. He allows her to sit before dropping down on the other end. There is an awkward silence as each hunter searches for the right thing to say. They begin speaking at almost the exact same time. N-Vorl clamps his mouth shut and nods for Yuljunu to go first. ¡°I was told you are returning to your home. To see your mother¡­And your father,¡± Yuljunu says in a quiet voice. ¡°It is just to visit, I hope.¡± N-Vorl¡¯s heart leaps in his chest and he once again takes Yuljunu¡¯s hand, emboldened by her openness. ¡°Yes. My mother has fallen gravely ill, and so have many others. They need my knowledge of the chruksh¡­And other potions¡­In order to combat their affliction and keep up production. I will return as soon as I am able.¡± ¡°You mean¡­You are not going back¡­For her?¡± Yuljunu says, a touch of envy in her voice. ¡°Baileinakh and I are a thing of the past,¡± N-Vorl proclaims. ¡°I am looking to the future.¡± Cupping Yuljunu¡¯s face in both of his large hands, N-Vorl brushes his cheek against hers. A tremor courses Yuljunu¡¯s body and she closes her eyes tightly. N-Vorl repeats the action. He lowers his right hand to the small of Yuljunu¡¯s back. Yuljunu¡¯s eyes shoot open and she withdraws, shaking her head energetically. ¡°No, N-Vorl! There is something I must tell you!¡± Every liter of N-Vorl¡¯s blood suddenly turns cold. He has heard such an objection before. Yuljunu¡¯s eyes search N-Vorl¡¯s face. ¡°Don¡¯t be angry with me, N-Vorl! It has nothing to do with you. It is only your timing,¡± Yuljunu insists. ¡°It was Curzu who brought me news that you were leaving. He suggested that maybe¡­You would elect to stay with your family. To take up cultivating again. He swore an oath of mating to me. When he returns from his next hunt¡­If he returns¡­We are to be mated. I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m so sorry, N-Vorl. I would never have agreed, if I did not believe you were leaving.¡± Rage courses through N-Vorl and he rises to his feet. Yuljunu stands up with him. Fear seizes her and she reaches out to grasp N-Vorl¡¯s right hand. ¡°Please, N-Vorl! Do not do anything foolish! Do not prove them right¡­That the son is no different than the father. Let Curzu go on his hunt. By the eye of the universe, we must let everything take its course. You must not make a move against Curzu. Or you both will be lost to me.¡± Seeing the truth in Yuljunu¡¯s words, N-Vorl kisses his intended lover¡¯s hand and strides quickly away.