- And the story continues! Oh look, here's some plot.
Chapter 10: A Father's burden
The hive's undisputed ruler sits in his throne, contemplating the recent incursions by the rival Xeno queen over the last few weeks. In that time, her warriors have become unusually more daring, and the unique variants that command the assaults more calculating and vicious. And if those hostilities to his growing kingdom weren't bad enough, then the follow factions that have joined the fray are.
The local colony some few miles to the West has recruited a ragtag team of colonial marines to deal with the recent stream of Xenomorph attacks. Atlas worries that these human forces may stumble upon his home in the midst of the rising chaos. This would be more enemies than a small hive like his could handle, but some news from his Yautja queen proves otherwise.
Kai told him that while she was out on a hunting endeavor, her wrist gauntlet picked up unrestricted radio chatter from her race. She has deduced that an unknown Clanship is parked in orbit and has chosen this world for a rite of passage ritual for their unblooded hunters. This Chiva is likely the result of the rival hive's noticeable size increase being detected by the Elders of that ship and the surrounding forest deemed worthy for these trials. Kai says that a Chiva doesn't last very long, but the unblooded hunters participating won't return until they have a worthy trophy, Xenomorph or better.
A human military presence seeking to eradicate all traces of bug activity, a bitter Xeno queen hungering for vengeance against Red, and now Yautja youngsters seeking honor in what will be an inevitable bloodbath? Atlas could not be any more stressed out if he wanted.
A deep sigh escapes the brooding monarch, his gaze lingering to his occupied lap where his daughter sits. His little purple hatchling doesn't whine, nor does she beg for his attention. She is quite satisfied with her current position on her father's thigh. It's a rare sight for any of his children to be so relaxed and complacent. For Mauve, sharing in his warmth is enough to make her docile, if just for a few moments.
She soon returns to her usual antics and puts both her little palms to his bare chest. She feels the retained muscle mass from his Novus body, making him appear even leaner than previously. And though none of his children had ever seen their father inhabiting this human form, they recognized him by smell and sound. His scent is comforting, Mauve sniffs him from abdomen to pectorals, making tiny rumbles of affection. But her father's visage is unchanging in its distraught and methodical appearance.
That simply won't do and thus, Mauve throws one of her tantrums specifically geared towards Atlas. She snuggles herself tightly to his body and begins wriggling while emitting short intervals of high pitched hisses. Her father's eyes blink unsteadily as if broken from some trance.
'Fa! Fa!'
"Hmm? What's wrong Mauve?"
'Fa? Fa!' His babe's mental cries reaching his mind like a blaring alarm.
"Alright already, just one and that's it! Make sure this stays between you and me, got it?"
Atlas knows he shouldn't spoil her too much, but denying any of his children is beyond him. His hands carry her upwards where Mauve latches her own small tetradactyl mitts onto his cheeks. She plants an innocent smooch on his lips as her father proceeds to laugh it off. He grins at his princess, who returns his smile with elated rumbles. Atlas wishes that these moments of peace would last forever and that he could live a simple life with his queens and children. But not even in his own home can he find solace from the turmoil.
While his women have all ventured off on their own assignments, the young king is left to tend to his brood. Red and Brunhilde have gone to infiltrate the rival hive and retrieve the components to reactivate Scion. An extra pair of big, strong mechanical hands would be nice to have considering how hostile this planet just became. As for Kai, she has gone off to scout the whereabouts of the colonial marines. She told Atlas that the Chiva will most likely commence within the follow night and she wishes to know the location of one enemy before the next few arrive.
Atlas hears the call of his other children and carries Mauve back to her siblings. They tumble about, sprawled on a resin nest constructed by the crimson matriarch in a separate room within the royal chamber. The many elated clicks and shrill cries of his young fill the small space as his presence becomes known to them.
He settles himself on the floor, crossing his legs and releasing his largest Novamorph into the pit of toddler mayhem. Atlas is a bit overwhelmed at the amount of tiny hands worshipping him, making sure his children understand their boundaries. His simple loincloth was discarded in favor of a larger animal hide tassel, concealing his endowment from their oblivious and innocent gazes. He lifts them to his waiting lips, one by one, and bestows his tender love to each of his little attention-hogs. All but one babe however, does not receive their father's blessing.
Atlas scans the litter to rest his piercing blue eyes on the sulking form of his son sitting away from the group. His gold scales almost shimmer under the organic light of the ceiling, his sniveling pout shifts into a startled flinch at his father's touch.
Those tiny sapphires of his look up to meet Atlas while his little hands desperately grasp towards him. If he knows his children well, then Tesh was most likely bullied out of the group by his big sisters. The two females, Uryi and Ghid seem to really enjoy pushing their runt of a brother around and making him bawl at every possible occasion. And though Kai might approve of this behavior, Atlas does not. He moves over to the duo struggling for dominance amongst one another as usual and drops to his knees to meet them halfway. The moment they have their father watching them again, the emerald scaled sisters scramble to his legs.
Their overjoyed expressions as they each sit on a thigh and nuzzle against him, are impossible to resist. Atlas strokes their smooth foreheads, his fingers gliding through their growing dreadlocks. The spitting image of Kai is so painfully obvious to the point that disciplining them is unthinkable. He lets out a lengthy sigh and scoots the youngsters off his legs. They resume their battle for supremacy.
Atlas then notices that Tesh is no longer where he last saw him and turns around. He sees the little Yautja clinging to Mauve for comfort, who is less than pleased but makes no visible attempt to get away. His other three miniature replicas of Red are standing inquisitively at the edge of their circular pen. Atlas doesn't make much of their behavior at first, and dismisses it as something natural. Still though, he gets a gut feeling that demands a quick investigation.
The young hive king steps just a few feet past the entrance of the royal chamber and peers into the dimly lit tunnel. He stares at the impressive row of pillars and then to the many other, newly constructed passageways. His eyes seem fixated on the ceiling channel leading to the main entryway under the massive Great wood. Looking deeply at the small beams of light that manage to penetrate his underground domain, he sees a flicker in their constant shining.
"I'm probably just imagining things."
After his self-noted comment, the dutiful father hears a drop in his children's voices. An uneasy feeling makes his stomach curl and his spine tingle. His children never go silent like that. He rushes back to them and finds a bizarre and disturbing scene.
Huddle together and without so much as a peep, both sets of his offspring amass in one large group. They embrace one another as he can see the slightest shivers of their individual forms. Atlas rushes back to the carved, oval entry and witnesses his nightmare crawl into reality. That ebony, clawed hand grasping the rim of the ceiling tunnel and ushering an equally dark snout with gleaming incisors.
A Xenomorph, a rival drone pokes its smooth dome into the enormous main foyer of his subterranean kingdom. It sniffs the air before releasing an echoing screeching, supported by a prolonged hiss. Atlas is already cowering behind the doorway, his heart thumping and his skin forming droplets of cold sweat. He quietly creeps back to his brood, knowing that drone will catch their scent eventually. But Red has prepared him for such a situation and his gaze lands on a child-sized hole at the far left of the separate baby room.
He snatches what he can carry, a mere three babes at a time and hauls his precious cargo through the four-meter long tunnel. Being only three feet high however, the journey back and forth is mind-rackingly frustrating. The first trip saves Tesh, Mauve and one member of the cherry trio. The second is unbearably horrid, as he must leave one of his scarlet daughters alone while he takes Uryi, Ghid and a second unnamed Novus sibling. Upon crawling back to rescue his last child, he spots the salivating Xeno drone perched atop his throne and staring right back at both of them. If Atlas tries to rescue her, he may end up dying along with his child and leaving the rest of his hatchlings to an uncertain fate. If he were to abandon her, then him and his other children could have a chance. Atlas narrows his choice down in the few seconds he had to contemplate his options and dives forward.
The drone is faster and leaps onto the hatchling to slash at his torso, forcing Atlas back from the searing pain in his chest. A notable laceration stings across his pectorals as the warm blood from his body streaks along his abdomen. He grips the wound and stumbles back to the small tunnel; the drone does not give chase? It reaches low, picking up the bawling Novus and turns around to flee.
"N-no! God damn it, no! Bastard!" Atlas reels from the agony, the adrenaline urging his body to pursue the kidnapper.
Any notion of following disappears when two more Xenomorphs come into view and prompt Atlas to retreat. They hiss and screech into the tunnel, but all in vain as their bodies are too large to enter. The wounded king just slouches against a wall in the little room, cursing himself and clutching his head in sorrow. His children are now restless, sobbing and whimpering. He then looks to around and sees a doorway that wasn't there the last time he inspected this safe room several weeks ago. It carries on into a long and dark corridor where the faintest glow of sunlight can be seen at the end.
The thought then occurs to him. What if one those drones finds the entrance to this exit as well? He can' just wait around to be cornered, nor will he allow any more of his children to be taken. And while it grieves him immensely to lose a daughter, he is relieved the drone didn't outright kill her. Atlas needs to make sure their exit is secured and gives his unruly brood one last glance before leaving them.
The carved hall is longer than it looked and what he thought would be a short jog, turns into a tiring trek. He notices the walls and floor growing damp with moisture and soon hears the sound of running water. Atlas comes out just behind the waterfall at the small pool, a ray of light from a crack in the cascading stream. Without giving it any rationality, the crying from his stolen child sends him rushing into the open. He splashes into the aqua oasis and swims to the river bank's edge, dripping his way onto solid ground. The noise travels from the main entrance, but what can he possibly do if he does catch the drone? Atlas has no clue just how many invaders have come and if there are any unique variants aiding in this sudden siege. But to knowingly allow one of them to make off with his hatchling would be a guilt he would never live down.
Dashing into the forest, he follows the panicked, telepathic wavelengths of her frightened voice. They lead him to a dense part of the woods not too far off from his hive. The area was heavily coated in small ferns and bush, flowers resembling tulips sprouted in almost every corner and the trees themselves did well to break the sunlight into scattered rays.
Then came the shattering branches and loud shriek typical of a fallen Xenomorph. The crash rang just some few meters beyond his sight over in the thick greenery. Atlas clung to the bark of a nearby tree and eyed the surrounding area for any other drones, but came up empty. All that remained was the contorted corpse of the once lively bug and the spear that did the creature in. He ignored the weapon and body, heading straight for his bawling hatchling. His child ceased her constant trembling as her father approached, thankful to see no harm had come to her delicate form.
Their peaceful reunion became short lived when Atlas recognized the weapon embedded in the drone's chest as a Combistick. A deadly tool employed by Yautja, but his huntress no longer had access to these weapons aside from her Plasma Caster. This Combistick belonged to a stranger, a stranger that revealed themselves from the trees. Two more Predators came out of hiding and descended onto ground level with heavy thuds. The kicked-up dirt from landing feet first made their presence more foreboding and their drawn weapons making their intentions known.
They lacked the usual apparel, perhaps because they were unblooded? Still the trio seemed formidable, each one of them easily dwarfing Atlas at vary heights of 7 to 8-feet tall. None of them possessed Bio-masks nor a wrist gauntlet, but at least one of them had a strange looking, serrated short sword. The brawnier of the bunch held a mace or a flail, Atlas was unsure since Kai rarely went in depth on her people's technology or armaments. The third and final hunter at the very front had no weapon in its clawed mitts and he assumed it must be the tossed Combistick. Atlas has no issue with the young hunter retrieving his weapon and claiming his trophy, but his hatchling being ensnared in the rival bug's dead grip might prove difficult.
He races forward to the carcass, the lead hunter jogging near as well. The unblooded Yautja were informed by their superiors of the human colony and thus, seeing Atlas isn't what shocks this young male. It's the small human's actions that are baffling. He and his fellow brethren were told the evolved primates would prove cowardly at the mere sight of his kind. This half naked individual is huddling over his prized kill, but why? Does he wish to steal his trophy? The young hunter's thoughts halt at that possibility alone and lets out a loud war cry to frighten him off.
Atlas isn't confident in his rough Yautja tongue, his speech is broken and his knowledge limited. It may be his only hope as though these young hunters are not Bad Bloods, he cannot be certain of their honorable code to hunting exclusively worthy prey.
"Peace! Peace! No, hunt?"
The young hunter looks to his allies with a confused expression. "The human speaks our tongue? Why does it ask for peace? We are not hunting it?"
"No matter how it knows, it must be trying to distract you." The more muscular male holding the spiked mace answers. "Perhaps skinning it will make a good warning for others. They may interfere with our trials."
"Well, our mentors did not mention on how to proceed with humans. They only said that we might come across them. What do you say, Zhe'gu?"
To this, the feminine Yautja with the jagged sword clicks in response. "It is not suitable prey, killing it would be pointless Tur-jte. Take the serpent's head and let us leave. There are more in the area, more heads to be taken."
The stronger Yautja shrugs and says nothing more. The speckled, sand colored one called Tur-jte, turns his attention to the human once more. It clutches something in its arms, something alive and wriggling. A Chestburster? No, the human would be dead and the tiny serpent fleeing at their scent. Whatever it is, the smell has a linger odor akin to the prey they hunt.
"Human. Do you understand me, or were you mocking our tongue?"
Atlas strains his face in an attempt to decipher and come up with something quick. "Yes?"
"What is in your hands? It smells strongly like one of these serpents."
It's hopeless, Atlas hasn't got a clue as to what the warrior is asking and remains silent.
"Wait, you… you smell like one as well! What is the meaning of this, are you harboring one inside you? Human? Speak!"
Unhappy with his silence, Tur-jte steps over his kill and recovers his spear. The blonde, shaggy haired human doesn't bother to flee and simply hides the pinkish creature in his arms. Annoyed and curious of the strange scent, he demands Atlas hand over the thing in his embrace. Atlas drops to his knees and shouts at the tan hunter in his native language. Tur-jte doesn't need to be versed in the human's vernacular to understand a threat when he hears one.
For a lowly human to speak to him in such a manner is audacious, he takes one look back at his companions before lunging at Atlas and stealing what he's got. He hoists in the air what he can only describe as some abominable hybrid, unlike anything he or his comrades have seen. The tiny spawn screams in pain and squirms helplessly in his strong grasp. Tur-jte looks at the diminutive freak of nature, it possesses the traits of the serpents they hunt but also displays other physical abnormalities that he can't quite understand. There's a lack of visible armaments, no claws, no bladed tail or even lashing out of its pharyngeal tongue. One could mistakenly conclude that this creature poses no threat at first glance. But so does a recently birthed serpent from its host, relatively harmless by a Yautja's standards.
Tur-jte wonders if taking this aberrant back to the Clanship for inspection would garner him any more honor than the heads he's already collected. His decision is put on hold when a barrage of pitiful attacks to his abdomen makes him stare down his assailant. The small human who barely reaches his chest is attempting to aggravate him? Then obviously, some discipline is in order.
The hunter nonchalantly sends a palm low to shove the young human away, not expecting much of any resistance from the juvenile. Tur-jte takes a second to process his hand jabbing the air as a frim chop gets the back of his left knee. The smack forces his leg to bend and thus, has him kneeling. Atlas climbs the seven-foot-tall warrior's back and guides his knee cap into the Yautja's armpit. The whole ordeal is swifter than Tur-jte could have ever expected from a little human and the precise strike on his arm causes him to release the sniveling hatchling.
Atlas catches his Novamorph daughter and holds her tightly to his chest, cooing and speaking gently to the weeping babe. He is too busy tending to his youngling to notice how red with rage he's made the male Yautja. Tur-jte hears the snicker of his female companion and sees the disapproving frown of his other ally. The little human will pay with his life. He rushes Atlas with a steadfast zeal of murderous intent, fists clenched and blood pumping.
Tur-jte is stopped, almost frightened by the sudden roar and hulking green mass that bursts from the forest foliage. The newcomer is another Yautja, an older, larger and far more intimidating individual than any of them. She ceases her throaty growling to steady her flaring mandibles.
"Touch the human, and it will be the last thing you ever do!"
"Who are you, and what are you doing on this planet?" Tur-jte tries to brush off her threat, careful to not let his rattled voice betray his nervous body's intentions. "You are not from our Clanship, nor are you one of our teachers. What business do you have here?"
"My business is my own, younglings. Now begone if you value your lives."
The unblooded male steps forward as his companions look agitated.
"Tell me something, Elder. What is that human to you? Why does it carry that monstrosity in its arms, cradling it like a child?"
"This human is my slave, the aberrant is its pet. We found it while hunting the serpent's nest in the area. And judging by the heads you three have gathered, I am certain you are all well acquainted with the myriad of genetic deviants that are spawning forth."
"Yes, we have encountered some rather unusual sub-species from that hive. But why do you allow your slave such a privilege, knowing what it will develop into?"
Kai tells Tur-jte that's on a need-to-know basis. She asks if that's all he wants, casually bring back her offer of pummeling him and his buddies in bloody pulps.
"No. I think you have sated our curiosity, for now. We shall take our leave."
Tur-jte turns his back on the bizarre trio to regroup with his own three companions as they head for a rendezvous localized north of the forest. On the way there, he remarks to his two allies of the unusual scent he picked up from the older female. His more physically imposing friend also notes that he detected some mixed signals, that the unknown Yautja reeked of human. Their own female comrade Zhe-gu, adds in that it seemed strange for a slave to utilize close range combat techniques with such accurate precision. As if the other Yautja had been training the little human. That brings a thought to Tur-jte's mind that he promptly shares with his friends.
"How strange. I used to know an Elite who kept a human female as a slave back at the Clanship. He too taught her how to fight, right before I caught him mating with her. We should report this to our Elders. For all we know, she could be an escapee. A Bad-Blood."
"Oh fuck! Red! These fuckers are fucking everywhere!" Brunhilde screams while unloading two rounds from her triple barrel hand-cannon. The former scientist had been lucky enough to come across more ammunition from some security staff skeletons.
'Yes, it appears that loathsome wretch has been busy.' The genderless, and burly figured Red replies while tossing the broken corpse of an acid spitting variant.
"C'mon, I got the parts we need for Scion! Let's bounce!"
'What?'
"Let's leave…"
'Oh.'
Brunhilde secures the large backpack containing the necessary components to revitalize their automaton and books it with Red clearing the path ahead. Her massive crimson bodyguard crushes a foolhardy drone with a devastating shoulder bash before stumbling into a brutal fist pound on the crawling blue carapace of a warrior class. The orange-haired human sidekick leaps over the remains and turns back to pop off a few rounds at their tailgaters. She puts her eyes front to see the cafeteria door entrance, barred with furniture and other miscellaneous items.
"Shit its sealed tight! Red, maybe we can-"
Red smashes through like the unstoppable pain train that she is.
"Or you know, just plow through it."
Beyond the doors lies a multitude of overturned rows of cafeteria tables and more bones of unlucky Weyland Yutani staff. Brunhilde can't help but wonder at the sight of so many bodies in one place. Either the bugs have been gathering them over the years, or they all died waiting for rescue that never came. She steps on some tattered remains and recognizes the clearance card on one individual. The worn piece of green plastic could come in handy should they ever stumble upon any level five zones inaccessible to a former level four researcher like herself. Standard protocol would imply that her superiors purged all vital data regarding any secret information, but it never hurts to check.
She stows the card in her backpack and moves near Red as warrior bugs pour in from all around. From the vents and over the cafeteria kitchen counter, the blue and brown glossy armor of Xenomorphs close in. Brunhilde lets some rounds rip through the crowd while being forced back into her companion. The massive aberrant tells the human to duck just as a sizable portion of the horde rushes them. Red twirls on one foot, swinging her thick bladed tail tip in a wide circle around herself. Brunhilde flinches on the floor from the sheer gust of power. Ten dead Xenos won't be enough to push the swarm back, but it did halt their progress.
Red takes the opportunity to pick up the recovering woman in arms and uses her strong legs to jump over the disorientated horde. She swipes her tail at a few more bugs blocking her path, shielding her human from the splashing acid of gutted Xenos. They crash through another barricade as the echoing shrieks and hisses of their pursuers stay hot on their trail. Red spies the exit, a shattered window of the third floor that they retrieved the parts from. She prepares to leap out when a world rocking impact sends her body exploding through a doorway. Brunhilde is tossed forward, nearly plummeting to her death as she hangs off the window's ledge.
"Red! Red! I'm g-gonna fall! Do something!"
'I am coming Brunhilde, just hold on.'
She homes in on the culprit, an enormous behemoth of a Xenomorph. Its head built like a battering ram and wide enough to obscure its entire body. The quadrupedal beast bellows a roar before charging again, the small office Red's been launched into gives her no space to sidestep. Instead, the crimson mass disappears from the bull Xeno's view. A sharp pain strikes the snarling brute from behind as Red had jumped down from the ceiling and sliced his meaty tail-spear clean off. She doesn't give the raging Xeno time to charge, taking the fatter barb and jamming it into the sturdy skull of the bull. Just as she had assumed, the tail combined with her strength was powerful enough to puncture its thick head. The blood gushing beast plants a foot back before collapsing dead.
"Red! I-I'm slipping! I'm falling! Oh Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu… eh? I'm not dead?" Brunhilde stops hollering to see Red's four-fingered hand grasping her wrist.
'Now we can, how you say, blow this joint? Correct?'
"Y-yeah, yeah let's go."
Red climbs and hops down from the facility's exterior with Brunhilde clinging to her torso. The shockwave from her landing sends some guarding drones tumbling as the pair makes their hasty retreat back into the forest.
Believing to have run a safe distance from the rival hive, Red releases the strain of her ambiguous form. That rigid chest Brunhilde was enjoying becomes soft and expands till her view is shrouded in a pillowy darkness. Red's hips and thighs widen as her butt balloons with weight and womanly shape. Her overall muscle mass thickens with gentle flesh, mouth swelling into a puckered maw ready for smooching. Her inner attack tongue loses its incisors and it too engorges in a mini set of plump lips. That graceful trot of hers is now a ground quaking jog that sends her curvy figure wobbling.
A muffled cry and panicking set of flailing arms below her draws her attention down. Brunhilde is desperately fighting for her life as Red was clutching her strongly to her right breast that smothers the woman's entire head. The motherly Novus pauses to push around her meaty bosom till she finds a frowning ginger-haired, fair skinned woman scowling with a mouthful of titty. Brunhilde spits out the fat rosy nipple from her lips, a glob of warm milk already on her tongue.
She swallows and says "Mmmnn, not bad? Red! You trying to kill me? I thought I was a goner!"
'Forgive me Brunhilde, my mind was elsewhere.'
"Well we're almost there, so don't worry. Also, put me down. I don't wanna get a concussion with these things bouncing all over the place!"
'Now you are just being rude.'
Brunhilde is back on her own two feet as they make the journey back to their home. On the way there, they encounter some Xenomorph carcasses, all without heads or decapitated to a certain extent. The young unblooded Yautja have traveled far since beginning their rite of passage hunt, yet Red can't pick up any unfamiliar scents. The rest of the trip is quiet, with only the forest speaking.
When they reach the clearing where the den entrance to the hive resides, Red is instantly on alert at the sight of three bug bodies so close to home. She races down the tunnel without a word to Brunhilde who struggles to keep up.
Touching the resin coated floor of her domain, her instinct leads the anxious mother to the main chamber. Her conscious is soothed as she steps in. There sitting on his throne, is her small mate tending to some of their children. Atlas holds in his arms, Uryi, Ghid, and Mauve, all dozing off with full bellies. It has become apparent to their parents that the largest offspring have established themselves at the forefront of the pecking order. The three females are snuggled together in their father's lap, occasionally twitching a limb or squirming against one another.
Red asks the little ruler where the rest of the batch is, and he manages to wriggle an arm free and points behind the throne. The colossal queen tells him of their success with their mission, inquiring if he had any trouble watching the brood alone.
"I had some surprise guests, but nothing I couldn't handle till Kai showed up. If she hadn't come when she did, then I'm not sure what would've happened." The young human drearily states.
'It is alright, Atlas. I sense that all of our hatchlings are safe and that is what matters most.' Red leans forward to press her lips on his own, pausing at the bandaged wrappings around his pectorals. 'You are hurt?'
"Oh this? It's just scratch, nothing to worry about. Now, how's about helping Kai back there? She's got four hungry mouths to feed and could use an extra set of hands. And maybe an extra set of boobs too."
'Right away, my king.'
Red saunters out of view, her tail caressing his chin while she passes. Having stood up to those unblooded hunters and protected his children from invading drones, Atlas won't be getting any sleep tonight. His queens will make sure of that.
Endnote: Maybe I didn't specify enough, but Brunhilde's firearm is the same one she picked up from the very first part and later used in the following chapter two.