AN: Our heroes just can't get a break. Could this be the end? Have K& K finally met their match?

Enjoy!

-Razz

########

Another Fine Mess

Chapter 25 – Lab Rats

####

"Your progress, Arbitrator."

The voice sounded beaten and defeated, startling Trajha out of his usual scathing thoughts of his superior, and he fumbled through his reply. "I…I believe that I have found him, Elder, but I wanted to wait for further confirmation before informing you. I do not wish to celebrate prematurely."

The Elder's breathing could be heard through the connection. "You are not certain?"

"No, Elder, not yet. But I will be shortly."

"Very well. Contact me this time tomorrow."

"Yes, Elder Ne'hak."

The connection ended and Trajha leaned back with a groan. His limbs were stiff from sitting for hours, but he could not find the will to move. After orbiting the planet repeatedly, he still could find no trace of the human and Firstborn, nor determine why the security shield was working when the tracking system was obviously offline. He knew that it would be prudent to inform the Monitors. They could alert the Council to launch an investigation, but the interference would undoubtedly disrupt his hunt. The Arbitrator growled.

"Why is your brother such a nuisance?" He snorted lightly at the thought of an answer from his friend, and then heaved out of the seat reluctantly. "Enough of this. They are not going anywhere." Wearily, Trajha headed to his chambers for a rest, hoping his thoughts will be clearer after some sleep.

####

Rudy Wilkins grunted out a curse at the passing mercenary, whose shoulder had collided with his own, but continued into the lift without challenging him. The soldiers-for-hire were nothing more than thugs in his mind, and he refused to give them the satisfaction of a fight. It had taken a while to reach this level of calm, as he was known to have a fierce temper, but after long talks with Kirkpatrick and many sleepless nights he'd finally gotten a grip on his attitude. The unexpected beating from Jones had helped, or at least, his explanation after the fact. If that hulking beast could keep his cool, Rudy could too.

The elevator opened to maintenance level, and he was immediately blasted by a wailing guitar. Speaking of Jones…that doesn't sound good at all. The tune was familiar; Jones had composed it three years ago when they thought that Kayla was dead. He'd played it for months, not offering insight to help them play along, only mourning the loss of their friend. Rudy supposed it had helped the man keep his composure, since he didn't crack like most of them. Aside from the beat down in the mess, Jones was the only one who hadn't been in an altercation with the mercenaries.

Wilkins put on his headgear and quickly slipped into the cargo bay, trying to minimize the noise that escaped. He was the last to arrive; Franz and Kirkpatrick were setting up their kits while Jones sat on a crate, his eyes closed as his fingers danced across the strings. Rudy nodded to the others and then set about the task of plugging in his keyboards.

"So…anyone know what's going on?" His headset crackled.

"Ask Brian. He saw her."

Rudy dropped a wire and turned to the medic. "You did!? Is it really her?"

Kirkpatrick's shoulders slumped, and he reluctantly nodded but said nothing, further igniting Rudy's curiosity. "I was on patrol when it happened, so I missed everything. Is she ok? Did she recognize you? What happened?"

Brian slammed a fist on his amp. "Give it a rest, would you?"

Jones stopped in mid-twang, and then started to play a different tune, one he didn't have to think about. "At 1830 hours we detected a ship landing. Two life forms emerged and we tracked them, a large creature and a smaller one. They were hunting the bugs on the surface. Maxwell insisted on capture instead of destruction, so that's what we did, and here they are."

Rudy absorbed the limited information, questions forming faster than he could ask them. "But why is she with one of those hunters? They've tried to kill us every chance they can get. That one monster 8 months ago nearly destroyed the base. What, is she its pet or something?"

Jones growled through the feed. "Watch your mouth, boy. You know Kayla, maybe not as well as the rest of us, but well enough to know that she'd never be anyone's pet."

"I meant nothing by it, just asking. Jeez."

Franz piped in with a crash of his cymbals. "Rumor has it she's fucking that thing. Sick."

Brian whirled around, knocking his bass from the stand. "Shut your fucking hole, Joey, or I'll shut it for you! You've got a lot of nerve talking about the Sarge like that, after everything she's done for you…for all of us! You'd still be licking the boots of Major Briggs if not for her, so just shut up!"

Jones tried to keep the peace. "Guys…we're all on the same side. We need to figure out how to help her. Kayla was always the brains of the operation, but now it's our turn."

"I just can't imagine why anyone would want to get it on with a crab-faced freak like that."

Kirkpatrick lunged for the soldier, and only the drum kit saved Franz from his rage. Wilkins and Jones quickly pulled him back. "What the hell has gotten into you, Bri?" "Chill, bro. You know Joey's just a prick."

Kirkpatrick held Franz's gaze with a hard glare. "You don't know a goddamn thing, Joey! They're beside themselves with this! They tried to cross-breed our species before. You remember Betty Abelforth, right? They said she caught some illness and died…they fucking lied! They tried to breed her with those things and she slit her own throat. Now they have Kayla, and for whatever reason they believe that they can use her for the same purpose. Whether she was or wasn't before, they'll use her against her will…rape her for science, you fucker! It doesn't matter whether we like it or not…it's KAYLA! We can't let it happen! So keep your weak-assed, ignorant ideas to yourself."

They fell silent with this revelation. Betty had been one of the administrative staff, one of the few to escape Jurnada with them. She'd also been the focus of Franz's secret crush before she died. Joey's ire dwindled and he hung his head.

"Betty…really, man? I…they wouldn't do…shit." He sheepishly met Brian's furious gaze. "I'm sorry, bro. I…I didn't know."

"You wouldn't, would you? But I get to know all of this sick shit because I'm the new fucking medic! You think I want to know how many times they impregnated her? You think I'm ok imagining Kayla in Betty's place? I've seen the files…I know what they're going to do to her…"

"Ok, Brian. That's enough." Jones' low baritone eased into the medic's fury. "We're not gonna let that happen."

He released Kirkpatrick with a pat on the back, and then picked up his guitar from the floor. As he resumed his seat Rudy voiced the unsaid question. "How?"

They watched their de facto leader for a sign of hope, but after a moment Leonard shook his head. "I don't know. Not yet, but we'll think of something."

####

"Inject the sedative."

"Yes, doctor."

"Are the assays prepared?"

"Yes, the reagents have been added in sequence, though we are still having a problem with P387."

"Set it aside; we'll test it later." Dr. Fabien handed the data pad to the technician and turned to the stasis tank. Their newest specimen was suspended in a cylindrical tube of liquid that was equal parts hydration and immobilization. A customized mask covered its unusual mouth while heavy titanium shackles bound its hands and feet. A thick titanium band encircled its waist holding it fast to the rear of the tank, and a thin line of green marked where it had dug into the creature's skin during its brief struggles. A low growl had emitted from the creature while it stared out of its prison, but as the sedative took effect the sound diminished.

"Alright, bring him out."

The technicians stepped back to allow room for the large gurney and equally robust security guards to reach the tank. The fluid drained quickly and the creature slumped against its restraints. Activating a keypad on the side of the tank, the security guards quickly caught the hunter when the bands retracted and lowered it to the collapsible gurney. Strapping it down with more metal bands, they stepped back to await instruction.

Fabien circled the gurney and a small smile ticked the corner of his mouth. "We'll start with the standard samples to compare with the others. Once that is finished, I want a complete DNA assessment as well as the synaptic mapping." He waited for their acknowledgment before continuing. "All of these creatures have a resistance to our sedatives, and this one apparently more-so. Until we can make a stronger dosage we need to work fast. Re-inject it once per hour so that it doesn't regain motor function."

The scientists nodded and quickly got to work, wheeling the creature into the examination bay with the security guards hot on their heels. Fabien watched until the door closed and then left the lab, his mind already jumping to his other subject. A human with a hunter. I would never have believed it – short of slavery – but this adds delicious possibility to our research. Galactic Military will be begging me for these results…and will pay me handsomely for them.

He slipped into his office and tapped the comm. by the door. "Maxwell, come to my office."

"On my way."

Sinking into the chair behind his desk, he opened the personnel file of Sergeant Victor.

- Sergeant Kayla Elvia Victor

- Born: August 23, 2255

- Assigned September 8, 2273: First Infantry Regiment – Reassigned

- Assigned April 10, 2278: Second Rescue Recovery Regiment

- Promotion to Sergeant, November 12, 2279

- AWOL: Unaccounted for as of June 5, 2283

Note: Wanted for questioning regarding the disappearance of Dr. Paul Fabien, Dr. Rita Umbel, and Dr. Nigel Rogers.

He opened the attached files to see numerous letters of accommodation and images of her exploits – A note from the President of the Galactic Federation for exemplary service (That's not the old man's signature); An image of her shaking hands with General Irwin as she received an award for valor (She looks like she wants to throw up); he laughed out loud at the next image, of Sergeant Victor and several soldiers being reprimanded by Lieutenant Grady – they were covered in what looked like oatmeal.

Fabien sat back chuckling. "I look forward to working with you, Sergeant. This will be a rare treat." Opening the testing schedule he added a footnote – 'Do not sedate unless the subject becomes violent.'

####

Maxwell watched through the observation window as the guards secured their prisoner to a gurney. The room was usually used as an operation theater, but since the station had never been equipped with an interrogation room, Dr. Fabian had agreed to let him use it to greet their newest guest.

He'd heard stories about this woman, from both her former team and former employers. He assumed she'd be broken by now after being a prisoner of the hunters for so long, but as Jones pulled the hood from her head he realized that it might not be so easy to read her.

She was healthier than he would have believed. Her muscle definition, while not bulky, was quite obvious, as though she'd been in strenuous training since her disappearance. Her file images had shown a woman in decent shape, but her current appearance bordered on body sculpting. No pet or prisoner should look like they'd been injected with protein, in his opinion.

He watched her eyes dart around the room while she tested the restraints. Her military training showed in her calculated assessment of the room, but there was a degree of calm he did not count on. He expected a more vigorous attempt at freedom, but after a few tugs of hands and feet, she simply relaxed her limbs and focused on the two-way glass partition. He knew that she couldn't see him, but it seemed as though she knew where he was standing. After another minute of staring, she confirmed his suspicion.

"I know you're back there. Afraid of a woman bound to a bed, coward?"

Maxwell smiled and straightened his shirt. This should be interesting. He entered through the side door and chuckled lightly. "Feeling feisty, sergeant?"

She said nothing, her gaze hardening while she studied him. The mercenary pulled a stool to the side of the gurney and opened a folder across her stomach. Kayla flinched involuntarily, and her fingers curled into fists when he started leafing through the papers. He picked up a small sheet of paper and held it in front of her eyes, revealing her recruitment photo.

"Dr. Fabien gave me a copy. Thought I should get to know the equipment, as it were." He turned the photo and studied it with a crooked smile. "Not bad, for a grunt. Trying to look like a rough and tough soldier, huh?"

Kayla suppressed a cringe at the condescension in his voice. He glanced between her and the image for several minutes before finally dropping it back in the file. He flipped through several pages before stopping and resting his elbows on the side of the gurney. His sleeve-covered arms were an unwelcome presence against her side that she tried to ignore.

"You've had quite a career, Sergeant. After a rough start you wound up becoming one of the corps most decorated female soldiers. Well, for a field grunt. You didn't take the high road like most of your kind." He glanced up to gauge her reaction, only to see her staring at the ceiling while stretching her neck. The movement was almost imperceptible, but the message of his insignificance was quite clear. He cleared his throat but she ignored him.

"It seems that all of that recognition came to an end about five years ago. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Kayla's neck cracked as she leveled her gaze on him. Her eyes burned with contempt, and she glanced him over in disgust before returning her attention to the ceiling. Maxwell lunged forward to block her view, and met a cold, unaffected gaze. He frowned and resumed his seat.

"You know, Sergeant, we could make things very difficult for you. I asked a simple question. You should simply cooperate."

"And you should simply brush your teeth."

Maxwell's eyes snapped to hers and he frowned. She smirked, having won the joust fair and square, and then resumed her study of the ceiling. The mercenary bristled at her attitude, but then stood up straight and crossed to the vid panel on the side wall. Punching in a code, he accessed a file and the screen sputtered to life. He returned to the gurney, standing just to the side so that seeing him would mean seeing the screen.

She ignored him for another minute before wondering at his silence, and her neck cracked again as she leveled her gaze on him. Maxwell smiled and stepped aside, and her eyes widened. He'd brought up the security feed of the lab, and its current subject. The scowl on her face disappeared, and after brief horror crossed her features, she leveled rage-filed eyes on him.

"Shall I tell you what they have planned for your friend? If you cooperate, they might be persuaded to leave him mostly undamaged."

Kayla lurched on the gurney, the restraints making her attempts futile. She let out a low growl, surprising him with its human yet very predatory tone. He leaned back and retrieved the file as it slid toward the floor.

"Well, Sergeant? We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Personally, I like the hard way. It lets me do my job. But I'm not without a small sense of decency. Why make more trouble for yourself?"

The marine trembled from head to toe, a flush rising beneath her skin. Her dark eyes drilled into him, and then she took a deep breath and relaxed, a small smile curling her lips.

"I'm going to kill you."

Maxwell laughed a the empty threat, fully confident that this filly would be broken in no time. "As you wish, my lady. The hard way it is."

He rose and left the room without a word. In the corridor he nodded to the waiting guards, Jones and Reyes. "Take her back to the pit." He glanced at the door and shook his head. "Bitch is crazy, but she'll be fun to break."

The guards nodded silently and entered the room. The prisoner turned to them but Jones quickly covered her head with the hood. Releasing the restraints, they hauled her to her feet and cuffed her hands behind her back. Reyes held the door while Jones led her out, his fingers digging into her arm until she winced. Nodding for Reyes to lead the way, he silently apologized for the pain. Years ago she'd taken a shot in the arm that would have killed him, and the wound was always a sensitive spot. As they reached the lift he squeezed it again.

They quickly crossed between the cells of hissing aliens, shoving her into the pit and closing the heavy door. The screech of metal always made like music to the bugs, and their frenzy increased, driving the guards back to the lift at a run. Reyes exited on level five, while Jones continued to control. He entered the security office and quickly opened the feed in her cell. Switching to night vision he found her in a corner of the cell rubbing her arm. Hopeful, he zoomed in until her glowing face filled the screen.

She was smiling.

####

"Dr. Kirkpatrick to Dr. Fabien."

The researcher grumbled as he turned from the observation window. The medic had been calling for the past fifteen minutes, and Fabien was tired of the interruptions. He tapped the comm. on the wall.

"I am very busy, 'Doctor'. What is it?"

"Just letting you know that I finished compiling the scans. They are in the database under…"

Fabien spun toward the panel and his jaw dropped, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Are you a complete imbecile, Kirkpatrick? I told you to bring them to me at once! Now do so!" He heard the medic fumbling with something over the comm..

"Sorry, Doctor. I thought you didn't want to be disturbed. Those were your orders. I'll bring them right up."

The link went dead and Fabien moaned in frustration, clenching his eyes shut while his hands shook at his sides. Idiots…they are all idiots! He noticed a lull in sound from the lab, and allowed it to draw him back into focus. As he turned back to the window he noted that they were preparing the synaptic beacon for injection. Their previous results with this test had led to incredible finds and even more questions, and he wanted to give it his full attention. Pushing the infuriating former-marine to the back of his mind, he raised a hand to the intercom again.

"Ok, let's get it right this time. This test is as important as it is difficult. Make sure the bands are secure."

####

Brian closed the link and let out the breath he'd been holding, only to cough when Wilkins slapped him on the back.

"Great job, Doc!"

Kirkpatrick turned around ready to remind him of surveillance, but Wilkins was halfway to the door.

"I feel like a million bucks. I appreciate your help!" He turned and winked before leaving the infirmary, rolling his apparently healed shoulder as he went.

Kirkpatrick shook off his panic and grabbed the data pad before following. It had been Rudy's idea for him to try to get information from the lab. He was to be a bug up Fabien's ass as much as possible under the guise of ambition, but keep his eyes open for Kayla or the alien, any rescue possibilities, and what Fabien was up to. He'd argued that Jones was in a better position, but Leonard argued that he was too deep to start asking questions. He'd be hard pressed enough to keep Maxwell from suspecting anything. Brian shuddered and took several deep breaths while on the lift.

He'd always been the quiet one. He held his own in a fight and backed up the team, but Kayla and Jones were the ones who usually had the ideas and went with the risky plans. He'd always been on lookout while Franz and Wilkins shot up everything. The elevator stopped on research level, and he squared his shoulders as the doors opened. I can do this. He hurried to Lab 5 and impatiently waited for security to give him access. The guard called Dr. Fabien repeatedly before finally getting an answer, and Kirkpatrick hid his laughter at the doctor's agitation when he was granted entry.

He'd never been into Lab 5. It was the largest of seven, and used exclusively for Fabien's alien studies. He wondered briefly at the size of the access hatch, picturing immobilized bugs or hunters passing through it, and paused in the entryway to take in the enormous lab. The room was rivaled in size only by the motor pool, but the amount of equipment vastly diminished the impression. Along the wall to his right were shelves of specimen containers. The closest held what looked like an eyeless snake, and he realized it was a tongue from the aliens. Suppressing a shudder he quickly panned across the tables of computers, reagents, analyzers and scientists puttering with them. He spotted the observation room on the right, but his gaze was drawn back to a large examination platform in the center of the room. Several lights and two large and complicated looking probes dangled over it from the ceiling, one currently removing a syringe from the hunter strapped to the platform.

Brian took several steps toward Dr. Fabien, but could not tear his eyes away from the creature. IVs and electrodes protruded from its arms, legs and torso, and it was bound securely to the platform by heavy metal bands across its waist and securing its wrists and ankles. The platform was at a slight angle, and he could just see the creatures hooded eyes watching him. He turned to the door and knocked lightly before entering. Fabien stood watching the proceedings through the glass, and Kirkpatrick hoped his hesitation hadn't been noticed.

"The results, Dr. Fabien."

Fabien's hand opened from under his crossed arms, and Kirkpatrick handed him the pad. "Next time, pay attention to instruction. I am too busy to have to deal with incompetence." His eyes never left the lab as he nodded dismissal.

Brian gave a short submissive bow anyway. "I'll be in the infirmary if you need anything else, sir. I'm eager to help in any way I can. These creatures are fascinating and…"

"That will be all, Doctor."

The medic stifled a snort and quickly made his exit. He heard a grunt from the platform and hazarded another glance at the alien as his crossed the room. Deeply set amber eyes watched him even as a technician administered an injection to its throat. Its body twitched, and the gaze narrowed but never left him.

Jesus, they didn't even sedate him.

There was a strange understanding in that gaze, almost questioning, and Brian felt both ashamed and vulnerable under its weight. He thought of the boys, of Kayla-mother-sister-boss, and smiled in spite of himself. On a whim he clumsily knocked a pen from his pocket. It clattered to the ground unnoticed in the murmur of activity, and as he bent to pick it up he met and held the hunter's gaze. Once certain that he had its attention, he gave a subtle nod and very brief wink. With the technicians between him and the observation window, he hoped that Fabien hadn't noticed the gesture. Rising quickly he turned toward the door, but not before he caught subtle movement on the hunter's strange face.

It winked back.

####

Kh'aan relaxed his limbs and gave up trying to break free. The scientists may not have rendered him unconscious, but whatever they injected him with left his mind and limbs heavy and numb. He was frustrated from being so incapacitated, but no amount of struggle would grant him freedom. He was reluctant to admit that once again he was helpless. Instead, he pondered the male who'd just left, and the odd glimmer of hope he provided.

I know that gesture. Kayla has used it frequently, both in jest and as silent communication. I cannot imagine a reason to be so stealthy with a joke, so he must have had a reason. Why would he try to communicate with me? It could be a trick. I am already a prisoner; that would make no sense. What did he mean? Could we have an ally here? If these are indeed the same oomans, perhaps they were friends to Kayla. Perhaps they will try to help her.

Fire lanced suddenly down his limbs making his fingers and arms twitch, and he fought down reaction to their torture. A scientist leaned over him from the top of the platform, this one female, and he saw a sharp probe in her hand. A band crossed his vision further restricting his head, and moments later the probe drew dangerously close to his eye. Kh'aan weakly tried to turn his head but the attempt was futile, and as cold metal pierced his eye he cried out in silent plea.

Paya, please help us!

####

Maxwell sat in his office contemplating the images of Sergeant Victor. He owed her a lot, if he was willing to admit it. Had she not disappeared after the destruction of Jurnada, he and his team would have had a vastly different experience when they tracked down the rogue scientists. When the call went out that Galactic Military wanted them apprehended, he jumped at the chance, seeing the biggest paycheck of his career in flashing lights. A flat 10 million credits would have been a glorious take, but the situation turned out not to be so. With the loss of their commander, the existing squad was fractured and useless. It would have been easy to waltz through them and apprehend his target. But after arriving he found out that the military had no intention of paying the full bounty, and then the scientists offered a better deal. His 1/6th of the original cut was nothing compared to a steady income of 3 million per year, and it didn't take much thought to blow off the military bounty.

Had she remained, we'd have had a fight on our hands. Good thing she got lost. Now to keep her that way.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "Enter."

Jones stepped in with a nod and handed him a data pad. "Today's recon, boss."

Taking the data, he scanned it while Jones stood silently. Maxwell was still unsure of the man's loyalty, and after a moment put down the pad. "Have a seat, Leonard."

Jones flinched, unused to Maxwell addressing him by his given name, and then sank into the chair opposite the metal desk. "What's on your mind, boss?"

Maxwell studied him silently before answering. "Sergeant Kayla Elvia Victor." He watched Jones for a reaction but couldn't read his stone features.

"What about her?"

He leaned back and propped his feet on the desk. "You were on the same team once, for a number of years."

Jones shrugged. "Long time ago. Old news."

"Really? From your files I'd have thought you were close. Ten years is a long time to just call it 'old news'." He willed the man to show some emotion, but Jones only shrugged again.

"I enlisted to serve, not to make friends. We were part of the same unit, that's all."

"That's all?" His eyes narrowed.

Jones leaned forward in the chair. "Look, I know what you're getting at and you've got nothing to worry about. When she disappeared she was pronounced dead. The grunt that I served with is dead. That chick you found…that's not who I knew. Shacking up with an alien? Kayla would have rather died. I don't know who that woman in the pit is, and I couldn't care less about her."

Maxwell listened while watching Jones for any sign of deceit. He seemed genuinely offended by the female's apparent indiscretion with the hunter, but the mercenary was not easily fooled. He made a mental note to watch his second closely.

"Yes, well…I was just curious. That will be all for now."

Jones stood and nodded curtly. "I'll be in Control, boss."

Maxwell nodded as the door hissed shut. Don't play games with me, Jones.

####

As soon as the door shut, Jones let out a heavy breath. To say such things about Kayla nearly broke him, but he knew that he had to stay off Maxwell's radar. If he was a religious man he would have prayed for forgiveness. Instead, he steeled his resolve to set the Sarge and her alien friend free.

####

Kayla grunted through another set of push-ups. The exercise was draining on her limited energy, but it was also the only thing keeping her relatively sane.

"38"

A drop of sweat fell from her brow, and its low splat on the floor was unusually loud in the silence. The Hard Meat quietly hissed outside of her prison, presumably communicating with each other. The sound reminded her of radio static, but she was thankful that their infernal screeching had finally stopped.

"46"

Maxwell, you arrogant prick! I'll show you 'very difficult'!

She ground her teeth in annoyance, instead shifting her thoughts to the dull ache in her arm.

Jones. It had to be. Ground his thumb right into the scar; didn't even have to find it. It had to be Jones. But why is he working for that scumbag?! Like he's got a choice. It's like he was letting me know it was him, but why?

"57"

When they'd been caught, she'd never even thought of the possibility of her squad being there. It was as though her mind had written them off for dead just like they had for her. But I know Brian's voice. That was him when they were testing me. Brian was testing me! What the fuck!? He probably didn't have a choice either. Then are Joey and Rudy here too? Dammit, I abandoned the team! Get over it. It makes no difference now. I'm trapped and Kh'aan is being dissected.

"Kh'aan…"

Her arms lost their strength and she collapsed in a heap. The dim outline of the slit in the door held her gaze but she didn't really see it. Instead, the past three years (was it really 3?) flashed through her mind – wormholes and food fights, slimy ponds and beautiful waterfalls – and a single tear ran down her cheek to dampen the floor.

It's not fair! Why are we made to suffer? Just kill us! Let us die if that's what you want! Why prolong this if we're meant for hell?

Despair reared its ugly head, invading her thoughts until she felt suffocated by it. She curled up on the floor ready to give the tears full reign, but the soldier in her refused to bow – not now, not after all that they'd been through. Kayla ground her teeth and slammed a fist on the floor.

"No way! No FUCKING WAY!"

Her voice held more strength than she felt, and was loud enough to reignite the broken-glass Hard Meat symphony. She listened until her skull began to ache, and then smiled into the dark. Heaving back into position, she started the workout again and added her own touch to the alien orchestra.

"One – motherfuckers..."

####

Fabien winced as the creature finally roared in pain. He noticed early on that it was trying to retain some dignity, but their tests were invasive, and he required minimal anesthesia in order to get accurate readings of its physiology and chemistry. Or so he told the technicians. It was necessary to test the endurance of the hunter species, in order to develop adequate defense against them. He remembered his awe when the creatures had stormed the base on Jurnada. The barrage of pulse fire seemed to have no effect but to anger them, and only thousands of volts of electricity were effective in bringing them down. They'd basically had to charge every grate and panel around the beasts to gather enough voltage, which would make portable modes impossible to handle. He was determined to find another way to kill them. Of course, this delayed his Xenomorph research, but it would keep until this problem was solved.

The creature convulsed on the table, inadvertently ripping out one of its shackles. Several alarms sounded at once and the team within the lab started a panicked rush for the door. Pulled from his thoughts, Fabien entered the lab from the observation room.

"Doctor, be careful! It's breaking free!"

He gave the technician a withering glance before removing a syringe from the cooling unit. Stepping over to the bed he swiftly injected the struggling creature in its neck. A weak growl escaped its mouth, and then it went limp and its eyes closed. Fabien dropped the syringe on a tray and turned toward the team.

"You are professionals. Act like it."

The technicians nodded shamefully, and Fabien returned to his post. I am surrounded by children.

####

Across the star system a vessel maintained orbit around the first planet. Arbitrator Nix darted between his console and a control panel at the rear of the control room, waiting for a sign that his efforts would succeed. After a few more minutes he grunted in satisfaction; he'd successfully hacked into the human computer system. Dh'len would be envious.

Though not as technically inclined as his fellow Arbitrator, Nix was smart enough to see the value in learning a trick or two. He might not be able to scan the surface, but he'd learned to back-trace a signal, as well as access less complicated systems. Since the humans were using Yautja technology to shield their base, hacking in was nearly elementary.

Once certain that his intrusion wasn't detected, he sat down and began to browse through the network. He took note of the security measures, but also studied the layout and power distribution. The multiple levels would make infiltration difficult, but the central tube that housed their lift and atmospheric systems had an exhaust port on the exterior of the building. If he could gain access undetected, it was the perfect route into and out of the facility.

An alarm sounded on his console, and the scanners revealed a ship passing within his range. Nix growled and immediately powered down his ship. The last thing he needed was for Trajha to find him. The console blinked and went dark just as the sensors detected a scan, and Nix subconsciously held his breath. He monitored with his wrist computer since the power output would not be detected, and only resumed breathing when the scan ended. He watched until the ship passed the second planet, and then reactivated his systems.

Frustrated, Trajha, or simply paranoid?

####

Trajha hissed and pounded a fist on his console. He'd wasted valuable time hunting for a sensor echo in the system, and couldn't pin point it. It had been interfering with his scans for the better part of a day, causing a catch every time he tried to scan the surface, and he finally altered course to find it. Faced with the futility of the search, he growled and headed back to the last planet.

He was at a loss how to proceed. The facility, while primitive, was a veritable fortress. One external hatch permitted all access, large and small, and was heavily guarded. He wished he could see into the building, but could only catch glimpses when the shield dropped. He studied the images for a weakness and found several, but without thorough scanning he could not tell if they were viable points of entry. More frustrating was the thought of having to rescue the infuriating Firstborn. In his mind, torture-to-death by humans was an adequate punishment, and the Council would be smart to leave him there. But when Trajha finally informed Elder Ne'hak of Kh'aan's capture (without revealing where), Ne'hak insisted that Trajha retrieve him. The Arbitrator grunted.

"If this rescue does not kill me…"

He shook off his thoughts and watched the planet approach. Cetanu guide me. There must be a way in there. I just need to find it.

####

Sleepy eyes stared into the feed. "You would dare wake me?"

"I have no choice. He has been found, but not retrieved."

"Where?"

"The Corridor of the Elders."

Silence extended for nearly a minute. "Pauk."

"What do you suggest that we do?"

"You will do nothing. I will see to this."

"But…very well. Keep me informed."

The link closed and after a yawn another was opened.

"Come to my chamber at once. I have a task for you."

"I am on my way."

After another breath, a third link opened, tired eyes meeting an equally haggard face.

"To what do I owe this honor?"

"We have a problem, and I require your cooperation."

"I am at your disposal."

The link closed and another yawn escaped. Glorious Paya, you vex me with your odd sense of humor.

####