Chapter 11

For a long moment Lilith gazed upon the creature that had gestated within her, using her as a source of both genes and nutrients before violently erupting from her chest. The Queen was right; he was perfect. She struggled to understand her feelings for the creature, conflicted as they were, and was surprised to find that foremost among them was love.

Love was not unfamiliar to Lilith. First there had been Reggie, who had created her, taught her, and looked out always for her best interests. And later she had fallen in love with Jude, who had welcomed her advances despite the risks, who was willing to give up everything for the chance to take her as his mate. But in both of these cases, her love had manifested itself as an intense thrill of physical attraction. And Lilith felt no desire to have sex with this drone, despite his flawless form and massive, ribbed shaft. At first this confused her; after all, he possessed every attribute that had attracted her to the others of his kind, so why was she not drawn to him as a mate?

Suddenly it made sense. He was her offspring! In a strange but very real sense, her own child! The instant she realized this, Lilith was flooded with a sense of ecstatic fulfillment more powerful than anything she had ever experienced. She stepped forward and embraced her son, shrieking joyfully. The pain and terror that his entry into the world had caused her was not forgotten, but it seemed now such a small price to pay. If she had it to do over she would change nothing, except that she would willingly, even eagerly, accept the facehugger's seed down her throat!

Not long before, Lilith had believed herself at the brink of inescapable death, but now she was more alive than she had ever dreamed possible. Something had awakened within her, and she finally understood the reason for her existence. She looked up at the Queen.

"I… I want to do it again!"

The Queen stared at Lilith in fascination. This was the first time that any creature had survived the birth of one of Her children. Such a thing was completely unknown to Her kind; the implications were almost beyond Her imagining.

And now, this Lilith was offering her body to create another drone.

The desires of a host were generally not something that the Queen gave much consideration. All other forms of life existed as prey and breeding vessels for Her children, and it was rare for such creatures to accept their true purpose. But Lilith was clearly something special. She had been able to challenge the Queen Herself in combat as an equal, and possessed abilities that defied belief; abilities now passed down to the hive's newest drone. That Lilith should submit herself willingly as a host for more of the Queen's progeny was a matter of incredible good fortune!

The Queen was unable to hold back her curiosity.

"Your way of thinking has changed," She said. "What has caused this?" Lilith's eyes returned to the drone that had grown in her chest cavity.

"Him. He's… I just… I could never even have imagined! Does he have a name?"

"I have decided to call him Azazel."

"Azazel? But that's…"

"I have seen into your mind. It is full of many things that are foreign to me; things that come from the humans, as well as from elsewhere. I found this name there, so the name comes from you just as Azazel himself does."

Lilith nodded, and caressed Azazel's dome. He hissed affectionately.

"He's the most wonderful thing I've ever laid eyes on," she said, "and I… I want to make more like him."

"Yes. All of My drones are wonderful, but Azazel is exceptional," said the Queen. "He is the future of My kind, and will sire many eggs upon Me."

At this, Azazel screeched excitedly and slid his dome eagerly along the Queen's body. It appeared that he had inherited his host's considerable libido. Lilith smiled. It was only right that her son should mate with this magnificent creature, and pass their shared genes down to future generations.

"Yes, Azazel, I look forward to that as well," the Queen murmured, "but now is not the time. The hive is under attack. Several of my children have been lost to the humans and their… weapons. The others have cornered the humans deep within this structure. I must decide whether to kill the intruders now, or risk taking them alive to replenish our numbers."

The mention of killing humans startled Lilith out of her reverie.

Intruders? Oh no, the marines that had accompanied her! They must have come in after her when she failed in her mission!

"Wait!" she cried in alarm. The Queen turned Her head toward Lilith, clearly nonplussed by her outburst. Lilith was unsure what to say or do now. She knew that the aliens were killers, of course, and that there was no chance for peace between the two races. The Queen Herself had said as much. But no matter how much she wanted to help breed more drones like Azazel, could Lilith really abandon her human friends to their deaths?

And what of the consequences? If she allowed things to play out as they were, she knew it would end in disaster for the xenomorphs as well as the humans. She might not be able to prevent the bloodshed, but she could perhaps delay it, at least until she could figure out what to do next.

"Listen to me, this is very important," Lilith began. "The humans you have trapped are only a small part of a much larger group. When they don't return, more of them will come."

"Let them come," said the Queen. "The hive needs more hosts."

"You don't understand," said Lilith impatiently. "Ordinary humans, like the ones lined up on the walls outside your chamber? We call those civilians, and for the most part they're easy prey." She shuddered slightly to hear herself say that out loud. "But marines, like the ones your drones are facing right now, are another thing altogether. They're warriors, killers, every bit as much as Your drones. They're well organized, armed with weapons that can kill at a distance, and they have the advantage in numbers.

"Until now, the marines have been holding back because I was supposed to kill You myself. When I don't return, they'll attack in full force, and believe me when I say that they will exterminate each and every one of you." The Queen took a long moment to absorb this information. Perhaps She had underestimated the humans after all.

"What do you propose?" She finally asked.

Lilith considered the possibilities open to them. She looked around the room, thought over the initial parameters of her mission, and considered what she knew. Slowly, an idea began to form.

"First, I'll need to see if I can repair any of those explosives."

"I'm running low on ammo!" Burbank shouted.

"I'm out!" Newhouse answered, looking nervously around.

"Catch!" Taylor threw a fresh clip to each of them. She was unable to fathom the aliens' tactics. Earlier, her team had managed to kill a number of the creatures, and eventually forced them to turn tail. For a while, the marines had made good time on their way through the installation. Then, when they had approached the hallway up ahead, they found themselves under attack once again.

But unlike the first encounter, where the aliens had attacked in full force, they were now behaving in a much more cautious manner. They darted in and out of sight, striking quickly with their teeth and claws, then disappearing into the walls. For the most part, the marines had been able to avoid taking serious injuries. All of them were bleeding, but none of their wounds would be immediately fatal.

Taylor wanted to believe that was a good sign, that all the close combat training had been worth the effort, but she knew better than that. The creatures wanted them alive, to infect with their parasitic young. And although her team had managed to stay in one piece, they had failed to inflict any casualties on the aliens.

"They're wearing us down!" she called. "Fall back!"

As they withdrew from the intersection, Verne got a solid shot off on one of the drones, blowing its head apart in a spray of chitin and acid. Unfortunately, he hadn't accounted for the close proximity, and part of the splash caught him square in the face.

None of the others had ever heard Verne scream before; it was a primal, sonorous roar that shook the halls. And despite all their training and experience in dealing with death and horror, the sound chilled them to the bone.

O'Neil took his place in covering their retreat, while Burbank and Newhouse put his arms over their shoulders, guiding him swiftly away from slashing claws and snapping teeth. O'Neil opened fire on the aliens, and landed two hits on the closest of them, but they only served to enrage the creature. In response, it whipped its tail forward, the scythe-like barb piercing her left thigh.

"Fuck!" she yelled, falling backwards. Olivia grabbed O'Neil by the collar of her fatigues and dragged her backward with one hand, using the other to lay down frantic cover fire.

Then, as quickly as the attack had started, it stopped. The aliens that had been right on top of them were gone. For now, the fighting had ceased.

"What the hell? They had us!" exclaimed Burbank. "It doesn't make sense!" Taylor was uneasy as well. Why hadn't the xenomorphs pressed their advantage?

"What's Verne's condition?" she asked.

"The burns are pretty deep," answered Newhouse. "Right eye's useless. The left one… might be salvageable. I don't know."

"Goddammit," Taylor muttered. "O'Neil, what about you? Hey! O'Neil, are you with me?"

"I'm… I'm okay," O'Neil answered. "Hurt like a bitch before, but now it's gone kinda numb. I don't think I could walk on it though."

"I don't know what's going on," said Burbank, "but those things could attack again at any time. No way we're making it past them in this condition, and we're pretty exposed if we stay put. I say we find a room and barricade ourselves inside."

"For whatever it's worth, I think he's right," said Olivia. "I'm not happy about it, but we're pretty fucked for choices." Taylor nodded.

"Yeah, we need a secure place to tend to the wounded. They're going to need serious medical attention, but we can at least try to get them stabilized in the meantime. Burbank, help Verne walk. Newhouse, keep that flamethrower ready. Olivia, can you carry O'Neil?"

"Affirmative."

"All right. Work backwards and look for a defensible location. I'll keep trying the com and see if I can get a signal past the interference."

Eventually, they found a lab that had reinforced doors and heavy tables to stack against them. Several vents opened into the room, but all of them were too narrow for a xenomorph to fit through, and the walls were reinforced nanosteel.

"If I have to use any more grenades, at least the ceiling should stay put," said Burbank.

"Don't even fucking joke," O'Neil mumbled. She was laid out on one of the tables, thigh wrapped and no longer bleeding.

It had been quiet for some time now. For whatever reason, the aliens had not pursued them. Perhaps when their population dropped below a certain point, they adopted a more defensive posture. If so, their primary objective would be to keep anything from getting near the Queen.

Taylor had briefly been able to get a com signal through the interference. It wasn't strong enough to establish communication, but with any luck base camp should at least have their location. She sighed and looked over at Taylor.

"How is it?"

"Feeling's starting to come back. I wish it wasn't," O'Neil answered. Meanwhile, Newhouse was shining a pen light into Verne's left eye.

"You see anything?" he asked.

"Nope," said Verne.

"Well, I'm not sure but I think I'm seeing some pupil contraction. So it's at least trying to work. I think. Fuck." Newhouse put the light away and stood up. "Where's our goddamn backup anyway?"

"Relax, they'll be here," said Taylor. "Could be a lot worse, you know. The aliens could be pounding on that door right now."

"You did not just fucking say that!" moaned O'Neil.

"Superstitious much?"

Just as Taylor started to chuckle, the room was shaken by an explosion, followed by a quick chain of four others. Those who were able stood and readied their weapons.

"I… think that came from the Queen's chamber," said Olivia.

"What was that? Artillery?" Burbank asked.

"Don't know," said Taylor. "Didn't sound like it, but I can't be sure."

"Should we send someone to go take a look?" asked Newhouse.

"Did you just volunteer?" Taylor responded.

"Right. Help me move these tables."

Together they pulled the tables back into the room, then opened the doors just far enough to look through. Newhouse stuck his head through the space between them, along with his flashlight.

"Do you see anything?" asked Olivia.

"Not yet," Newhouse answered. "Wait. Something's moving."

"What do you mean by 'something'?" Taylor demanded.

"Well, Sarge, it's dark. And there's a lot of smoke from the explosion. Hang on, it's…" he paused. "Well now that's kinda different."

"Out of the way," Taylor said, pushing past him. A figure was coming toward them through the smoke, holding something over its head.

"Don't shoot, it's me!"