Cottonmouth Bridge
"This was a shambles," barked the hologram. "In, out, capture a few bugs, no casualties."
"Who's that?" whispered Kadr.
"Alexei Olin, commander of the Cottonmouth," replied Tybrin.
"But sir..." the unfortunate officer said. "It got us another bug. She got facehugged, not killed. We still benefit."
"That's not the point!" roared Olin. "I gave you strict orders – keep the scientists safe! Especially Ashley Ryltan!"
Vandros winced. "That's why he's so worked up. Ashley was his fiancé."
Tybrin fiddled with the controls, and the hologram went into fast-forward. "I'm trying to find information specifically on this 'Splinter'... ah, here's the next reference."
The new recording showed Olin and white-coated figure. "You wanted to see me?" grunted Olin.
White-coat nodded. "We've been monitoring Miss Ryltan and found something odd with the embryo." He pointed to a screen. "What do you see?"
Kadr frowned. "Can you focus on the screen?"
Tybrin pressed several controls, and a separate hologram showing the screen appeared. A bioscan of a half-grown chestburster was visible.
"A parasite," said Olin snidely. "What about it?" The screen zoomed in on the chestburster's head. He peered at the screen, and then gasped.
"I know, it goes against everything we know about xenomorphs," the scientist continued. "But there's no doubt. That's an eye. We've scanned it, and aside from the usual acidity of the flesh, it's remarkably human in structure. At this early stage of development, it's hard to tell more... but you can see that this is no ordinary drone."
"Any theories?" asked Olin, abruptly fascinated.
"Yes," White-coat said, tapping several controls. "Compare these two DNA sequences." The bioscan was replaced by said sequences. "This sequence has several sections missing. It's from a normal xenomorph – of course, the actual creatures don't have this. It's a projection based on the structure generated by the 'chestburster virus' injected by a facehugger. The virus integrates sections of host DNA to complete the sequence. Now look at this one."
Olin nodded. "There's more missing."
"Normally about one percent is missing from the sequence, with more open to being replaced depending on the qualities of the host DNA. This second sequence is extrapolated from remnants extracted from the facehugger that implanted Miss Ryltan. There's nearly ten percent missing, and when we scanned the chestburster, we found that it is nearly twenty-five percent human. Only the eye has shown through, but when it matures, we may find many more differences."
Olin nodded slowly. "How did this occur? Is this a natural part of the local xenomorphs, do you think?"
"To some extent. I suspect that it is a mutation; a genetic aberration. I don't think that she's unique, but I suspect that it is a very rare anomaly. Whether it is an aspect of only these xenomorphs, or could occur with any of the species, I'm not sure." White-coat paused. "There is something else. Normally the host has awoken by this time. Miss Ryltan has not, and if the predictions are correct, she will never wake up. She's slipping deeper into a coma-like state, and we're not sure why."
"Oh, Ashley..." murmured Olin. "Keep me informed."
Tybrin played with the controls again. "It doesn't look like there are any recordings about the drone for a while, just a few reports. Listen to this: 'Miss Ryltan did not awaken even when the chestburster emerged; indeed, there was no mental activity to suggest that she even felt it.'"
"Unusual," said Kadr darkly. He'd seen too many fellow soldiers 'giving birth' to the next generation of the enemy to have much time for such dry observations.
"Here's the next entry," said Vandros. "'Subject E-01 has demonstrated Beta-like telepathic capabilities. Mr. Olin's presence requested.'"
Tybrin flicked the controls, and a new hologram appeared, this one of the holding cells. Aggressive snarls from the drones instantly filled the bridge. The image was focused on the end cell, where a familiar figure was visible. Olin stood in front of the transparent cell door, with several armed soldiers and a couple of scientists.
"You wanted to see me?" said Olin coldly. "My scientists have informed me that you're no ordinary drone. As far as I'm concerned, you're just another test subject, one that hatched from someone I was very... close to."
Text scrolled along the bottom of the hologram, evidently a transcript of the drone's words. I'm sorry. I couldn't choose who brought me into the world. But she's not dead.
Olin laughed. "Oh?"
She lives on in me. Your scientists have told me all about how I'm not normal, how I took more qualities than normal from my host. But it's not just physical qualities... I have memories as well. My form is different, my mind is different, but on some level, I am Ashley Ryltan.
Olin looked piercingly at the drone. "Prove it."
You met her... me... two years, three months and seven days ago. The twenty-third of October. We had been assigned to oversee the effectiveness of a new type of ammunition being produced by one of Mortech's contractors. On the twenty-fifth, you found the courage to ask me out. On the twenty-eighth... would you like me to go on?
Olin was breathing hard. "No," he said softly. "It's really you, isn't it..."
Yes.
Tybrin paused the recording. "That's it for the high-priority information. Beyond that, we'll have to strain through the recordings manually."
"But what happened to the Cottonmouth?" asked Kadr impatiently. "That's what's important."
Tybrin gave him a grim look. "We don't know."
"What do you mean?"
Vandros walked over to an alcove in the bridge, and pulled the door open. The computer core was revealed, and with it, the damage. "Apparently it got caught in the crossfire," she said. "Carbine fire and acid melting has erased about half the data, including all the most recent stuff. We've got no way of knowing what happened. Apart from the fact that one of the drones is no longer a problem." She indicated a massive hole in the floor and the limp black tail poking up from it.
"Wonderful," snarled Kadr. He reached for his radio and clicked it on. "Holding area, how's the drone?"
"She's fine, sir," the radio crackled. "Gone a bit quiet."
"She?" Kadr growled. "It's an it, soldier."
"Not if ya check her undercarriage, sir, if you get my meaning..." The soldier sniggered faintly.
Kadr raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're getting the hots for a bug. Keep me informed, unless the answer to that question was yes, in which case I don't want to know. Kadr out." He clicked off the radio.
The radio clicked again almost immediately. "Team one here, sir. We've finished our sweep of the corridors. We've found plenty of dead bodies, and it looks like the airlock has been cycled. It's possible that they managed to blow some bugs out into space."
Kadr glanced at the limp tail in the computer alcove. "Copy, team one. Keep patrolling just in case, but that might be all of them dealt with. Keep me informed. Kadr out."
"Sounds like your catchphrase," said Vandros.
"Does, doesn't it? I'm going to report to Avermann. Keep me informed."
Cottonmouth Holding Area
"...Kadr out."
The mercenary clicked the radio off and turned to look at his charge again.
She was the same as ever, curled up cat-like in a corner of the cell. As though feeling his gaze, an eye opened and observed him back.
A chill ran down the soldier's spine. There was none of the submissive terror in there that he had seen when they'd first entered the cellblock. It had been replaced by easy confidence, as though she was in complete control.
The other eye opened and she uncurled from her foetal position. Lips parted, and a thin snake-like tongue flicked out as she watched him intently.
It was startling how human she looked, the soldier thought vaguely. "What are you looking at?" he growled, the stare beginning to unnerve him.
The hybrid made no response, but prowled to the front of the cell, almost seeming to flow rather than walk. Still those dark, iridescent green eyes bored into him.
The radio clicked. "Sound off, people," crackled the sergeant. "Can't have anyone going missing without us knowing."
The soldier responded when it came to his name, and turned back to the cell.
She was back in her corner, as though she'd never moved.
Had he imagined it? This place was dark enough, and the threat of rogue bugs could set anyone on edge.
He watched her for several minutes, but this time there was no response from the apparently sleeping xenomorph.
Must've imagined it.
But the memory of those cool, calculating eyes sent a shiver down his spine.
"Sir..." said Kadr, summoning up all his experience of dealing with Mortech, "I really wouldn't recommend it."
Avermann looked at Kadr as though he were a particularly interesting beetle. "Why not, lieutenant?" he said. The scientist coughed abruptly, and pulled out an inhaler from the depths of his coat before sucking on it noisily.
"Sir, one of the xenomorphs is confirmed dead, but there could still be one out there," said Kadr, waiting for another coughing fit to subside. Wonder if those drugs actually do anything? He always sounds worse after using them. "With the recent computer records lost, there's no way of being sure short of going over the entire ship. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that that's not a small job. With only twenty men, covering something the size of the Cottonmouth and being sure that nothing has slipped past us isn't really possible. What I'm saying, sir, is that I can't guarantee your safety. Those two xenomorphs apparently wiped out the entire crew single-handed. We can keep the Seeker secure, but I wouldn't like to make any promises about the Cottonmouth."
"I understand your... concerns," said Avermann. "However... you have all of the advantages here. The unfortunate men of the Cottonmouth were evidently... caught off guard. You know that there might still be a xenomorph out there, and have the firepower to handle it. I think that the dangers are not excessive. Besides, as I said, I am curious about this live specimen."
Kadr nodded unhappily. He knew from personal experience that sometimes, in a restricted space like a ship, all the weaponry in the world couldn't stop a fast drone before it did real damage.
"Do you have any... theories about what happened to the ship?" said Avermann.
Kadr hesitated, then shook his head. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before. Too convenient. Nearly thirty drones killed off in their cells, then two escape without a scratch on the cell doors? Gunfire everywhere, but the only hits are around the place they initially escaped from? Dead bodies in big clumps? Cottonmouth is a much larger vessel than the Seeker, they had a bigger complement of soldiers, weapons and security systems."
"But you do... have a theory," said Avermann pointedly.
"I would prefer to get some more information before I make wild guesses, sir," replied Kadr stoicly.
Avermann gave him a piercing look, and Kadr suddenly saw not a blustering, stubborn old scientist, but a razor-sharp middle-aged businessman. Appearances are important among the supercompanies, he thought.
The façade slid into place again and Avermann nodded. "I'm sure you know best, lieutenant. Now, I believe we have a ship to visit?"