Another Fine Mess

Chapter 26 – Chained Melody

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AN: To all who are still out there: Thanks for waiting and sorry…though there are only so many times you can say sorry for the same darned thing. To save you the hassle of going back a story or two, I've provided the following recap:

Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away…or not…a soldier and a Yautja squared off in a fight to the death. They fought valiantly and ruthlessly, but it was all for naught, and the two – a male hunter of royal lineage and a female marine of the highest caliber– found themselves trapped together. A frozen cave, prejudicial alien family members and one honor quest later, and 'trapped' became 'On-The-Run'. As time passed our two unlikely companions tolerated each other, built a rapport, and grew to become friends. The universe continued to plot against them, but solidarity in unity made them strong enough to bear the onslaught. Good Samaritans, twisted brothers, and a living nebula later, and our heroes faced their toughest challenge yet – isolation. Marooned on a travelling gas bubble, they overcame many differences and discovered several new ones, and their friendship strengthened. But just as it seemed that the sun had finally risen for our lost mariners, with it came more destruction and despair than they'd previously faced. The seas burned, the skies boiled, a bond solidified into granite, and a brother lost his mind. It seemed that there would be no peace for our friends.

Fate, on the other hand, had different plans for them. Strange magical planets, emotional baggage and alcoholic confessions, oh my! Pursuing Arbitrators kept them on their toes, a planet of hormonally charged females kept them on edge, and an evil queen nearly kept them down for the count. But K&K would not be thwarted.

Enemies vanquished, allies acquired, and ship repaired, our two took to the skies again in their endless hunt for freedom from oppression. Along the way they (FINALLY) discovered each other, and granite bonds hardened to steel, never to be broken again. What a glorious thing, yes? Well, it would have been if not for the unusually precise drift of their ship into the Corridor of the Elders – a region of restricted space meant only for the High Elder and Firstborn of each generation. How did they get here? What do they do now? And why is one of the planets occupied?

Which brings us to 'now' now…everything that happens now is happening now. We can't go back to then because we missed it just now. Then will be now soon.

On with the show.

-Captain "gorram frelling muse is a piece of fracking dren" Razz

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"Good morning! It is zero-six-hundred on Thursday, August 28th and time to start the day. Announcements: Departmental budget projections are due to Accounting by Friday; Motor Pool staff report for inspection at zero-seven-thirty; Cafeteria two will remain closed until further notice - all staff are to use cafeteria one; Today is Dr. Richardson's 54th birthday - Happy Birthday, Dr. Richardson; Maintenance team report to exhaust port 217 for repairs…again. Today's external temperature…"

Arbitrator Nix silenced the transmission and engaged his cloak, leaning quietly back into the shadows as the human engineers came out of the access tunnel.

Where is the little one with the crude language? He was most amusing.

"This is all Dillard's fault"

"Yeah, if he'd just kept his trap shut and held the seal, it wouldn't have busted again. But no! He's gotta keep mouthing off and…"

"Shut up, Vince. You're the one mouthing off!"

"How the hell did it bust open again? That sealant could hold a freighter upside down on a flag pole."

"One word, man: Dillard."

Nix stifled a snort and held perfectly still as the technicians gathered directly in front of him. He'd been testing their materials and their resolve, and was pleased that not only were they stumped by his repeated breach of the hatch, but they were growing agitated with each other and their repairs were suffering as a result.

The technicians set to work repairing the hatch, a simple metal square with a single-hinge. Nix had been repeatedly cutting through the sealant around the hinge, leaving minute gouges that would disrupt the seal of the door. Their adhesive materials were functioning properly, but much to his amusement they had yet to discover the real reason the hatch would not close properly. Once more should be enough to weaken the metal permanently, and then I will go exploring. The technicians finished their work, still missing the raised lump of metal inhibiting the hinge, and headed back to the main doors. Amused, Nix leaned forward and slipped his wristblades beneath the hinge, popping it loose slightly again. Bring ooman-Dillard back with you. I enjoy hearing that soft meat complain.

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The impact of the drop ship jarred Trajha's skull. No matter how many times he used the small projectile rocket, he always felt as though his bones were knocked out of alignment. He twisted his neck until it popped softly, and then punched the hatch release. Immediately the pod was flooded with water, and he swam as quickly as possible to the surface. He'd chosen to land a drop ship in the waters surrounding the island rather than risk his ship being spotted on approach. Without knowing how much the humans had compromised the planet's security system, he was unsure if his ship would remain undetected, and he did not want to lose his only means of escape.

He slogged out of the ocean with a muffled hiss. The water felt slick and oily against his skin, and it seemed to leach any warmth from his body regardless of the thermal mesh. Activating his scanner, he turned back to the water and studied his surroundings thoroughly. Several electrical signals were approaching from the open sea, but he also noticed that they seemed to be coming from beneath his feet.

Trajha switched spectrums and noted numerous darkened hollows beneath the shoreline, as though the island was pocked with underwater caverns. Not wasting another minute, he broke into a run across the craggy landscape following the signal from the human facility. If he was lucky he would lose the Hard Meat before they reached the surface. If he was very lucky, they would follow and provide a welcome distraction for the oomans while he abducted their prisoners.

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As the changing shifts bustled through the corridors, Dr. Fabien carved a path through the swarm to the lab. Having barely slept the night before, he was eager to announce the next steps in their research. He refused to make the same mistakes a fourth time.

'Forewarned is forearmed'. I will not lose another battle if I have the knowledge to succeed.

He entered the empty lab and a frown creased his otherwise smooth face. Where the hell are they? We are on the verge of the greatest creation in the history of mankind, and they stop for breakfast! He marched over to the vid-screen opposite the observation room and opened the results of their previous test subjects. The images of 3 hunters filled the screens, their chest cavities gaping, mutilated features slack in death. He swore under his breath as the scope of such scientific and financial loss flooded his memory, and his jaw clenched.

We will not make the same mistake again.

A gurgle reached his ears, and he glanced over his shoulder at the glass partition separating the lab from the holding tanks. The hunter was awake; his eyes traveleled between Fabien and the screens, and a fierce stream of bubbles escaped the mask over its face. It struggled, as evidenced by a slight ripple along the restraints, but was too securely held to do more than squirm. Fabien smiled and pointed to the screen, then turned the pointing finger on the hunter.

"You see! The future, my boy! You'll get your turn, don't worry!"

He laughed lightly, knowing that the creature couldn't hear him, but was still startled to hear the faint but fierce rumble of a growl. Ignoring the chill that raced down his spine, he turned gratefully to the door as the technicians slowly ambled into the lab. They paused in mid-sips of their synthetic coffee and stared at him with wide eyes. Usually Fabien was not seen in the lab until well after 10 am; to see him so early meant trouble. A few quickly threw away their plastifoam cups and hurried to their stations, but the rest could only stare incredulously. Reveling in their fearful regard, he raised his hands in triumphant welcome.

"It is about time you got here! We have much work to do this day, much to do! Get to your stations! Time will not be wasted!"

Of the four standing in the doorway, only one seemed to hear his voice and move toward their desk. Like animals in the light of an oncoming car, the other three muttered to each other and continued to sip their coffee. Fabien's good mood began to fade rapidly, and he took two steps toward them.

"Are you daft? Is there too much wax in your ears, or have you forgotten to charge your brains? GET TO YOUR STATIONS, NOW!"

The woman in the middle, a veteran to his staff but eternally insufferable in her necessity, rolled her eyes and turned lazily toward her station. "I haven't started before 7:30 in ten years, I'm not about to start now. You can just cool your jets, Doc."

Fabien's cool snapped. He'd been holding back his temper toward her insubordination for as many years, and now, at the ass end of space on the edge of the dawn of a new era, he was not about to take any more from her. His long strides caught her short ones halfway across the floor, and he gripped her wrist so tight that the crack of her bones echoed in the room. She briefly cried out in pain and shock, but he gripped her jaw and squeezed until her pursed lips were white from the pressure.

"Are you quite finished, Agatha? Because if not, I can see to it personally that you take part in our next round of testing. I have had to deal with your disruptive, resistant attitude for ALL of your 10 years with this organization, and my ability to tolerate it has peaked. This is my base, my laboratory, my world, you insufferable wench. You will get to work when I say, and you will not STOP until I say, even if you are on the edge of death. Do you understand?"

Her expression of indignant retort faded, the furrow between her brows disappearing as her eyes widened. They all were familiar with Dr. Fabien's 'King of the Mountain' attitude, but never had he resorted to physical means of persuasion. Though she'd always been one to make the world wait for her and bow to her wishes, at this moment she chose restraint and the words squeaked from her squashed mouth.

"Y…yes, Doctor. I'm sorry."

"As well you should be. Now!" He released her and turned to the other technicians, his voice echoing from the high ceiling. "We have an opportunity here, an opportunity to avoid past mistakes and finally achieve the results we have been carefully planning for."

The technicians eased forward, their eyes wary and coffee now cold. He gestured to the vid screens and continued. "You see on the screens the results of our last hybridization tests. As you are well aware, all of the test subjects died upon impregnation due to diminished systemic function and weakened immune response. We will never have a viable experimental model if we cannot have even one subject survive to produce a hybrid. Therefore…"

He opened a second image, this one of their current test subject, immobilized in his tank but staring intently at the vid monitor simultaneously filming and displaying him. "It is in our best interests, ladies and gentlemen, to forego all preliminary testing on this subject, and proceed directly to implantation protocols as quickly as possible."

One of the neuro-technicians raised a hand before rising to his feet. "But Dr. Fabien, we must have the preliminary data to ensure accurate readings from the implantation." The young man stepped toward him nervously, glancing over his shoulder for support before continuing. "We must have the control group set; you are well aware of the standard protocol for formulating an experimental model based on…"

Fabien stepped forward attempting to soften his features. This technician had shown great potential and loyalty thus far, and he did not want to distance the young man from a promising future. "Any other time, Stuart, I would agree that we must follow protocol to the letter. However, it is this very protocol that has ruined our experiments time and again. After so much probing, scanning and invasive testing, even the bodies of these formidable creatures can be weakened." He rested a hand on the tech's shoulder and forced an uncharacteristic smile. "It is imperative that this subject survives the implantation. It will do us no good to have to keep him on artificial respiration like the others, only to still-birth a hybrid. We need a living specimen."

"In other words, Stuart," Agatha rose from a seat cradling her newly wrapped wrist. "If Dr. Fabien wants to proceed without proper preparation, it is his lab, his world, his…

A shot rang out in the room, deafening the technicians for a brief moment, and Agatha dropped to the ground with a light thud. The very air in the room seemed to hold itself for a brief moment, and then all eyes trailed to the door, where Oliver Maxwell and Leonard Jones stood silently. Maxwell holstered the weapon.

"The spiders are ready for you, Doc. They're being delivered to the holding tanks now. You want us to bring her up?"

Fabien's smile cooled, his eyes leaving the body on the floor to glance at the screen. "No, not yet. I have plans for her friend first. Once we are ready here, take her to Observation Room 6 and bring up the lab monitors. I'd like her to see this first hand."

Maxwell nodded and slipped out of the door. His second held the door to admit two maintenance workers, who gathered up the body and quickly removed it from the lab. Fabien glanced around the lab in satisfaction; the other technicians could barely tear their eyes from Agatha, but when they noticed his gaze they quickly turned to their work. Never doubt my resolve, lest you experience it personally. He tapped a command into the computer console and watched the creature in its tank. Your time is near, alien hunter.

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Kh'aan glared through the tank at the humans in the lab. The way that they looked back and forth between his prison and the doctor made him nervous, especially after the female was killed. The report of that shot had removed all remnants of the sedative they'd been pumping into him, and he struggled in vain to get out of the restraints before they noticed that he was lucid. The images on the screens in the room, though blurry, told a story that turned his blood to ice. He'd recognized the distinctive skin pattern of Omak, one of his oldest friends who'd been lost on Jurnada, with his chest torn open from what appeared to be the surgical removal of a hard meat. At once he'd felt renewed shame for abandoning his fellow hunters that day. Even if he'd wound up a fifth dead hunter on the screen, at least he might have saved the dignity of his friends.

His thoughts were interrupted by as the outer door opened, and an armed guard stepped into the room ahead of a male technician pushing a wheeled cart. Kh'aan choked on a gasp; on the cart were two cylindrical containers, roughly twice the size of his head, and within each one was a living face-hugger. The creatures fidgeted in their tanks as the cart rolled across the floor, but to his surprise they seemed to focus on him as they passed his tank, the legs and disgusting tongue-like appendage facing him as the tank moved. He winced at the thought of the creatures 'seeing' him, and at once wondered why there were two. Realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

Kayla! NO! I must get out of this! They may take me, but I will not let them use her as a host! I swear it!

Suddenly the armed guard stepped into his view. "Getting antsy, freak? S'ok…things are gonna get mighty interesting when they let these bad boys out. One for you, one for your little bitch!"

Kh'aan snarled and wrenched against his restraints fruitlessly. "When I get out of here, pray to your gods that I do not find you, or I will eat your innards while you live to watch!"

"Is that thing talking to me?"

"Get away from the tank, you moron! You mercs weren't here when the big grey one nearly broke out. Those things are stronger than god. Don't be stupid."

The guard sneered and leaned closer. "Eh, he don't scare me. Just a crab-faced lizard on dope, ain't ya, freak?"

They placed the cart against the far wall and left the room, but Kh'aan no longer noticed them. Ban'eu? He would never be taken without a fight. No wonder he 'broke out'. Did they perform these horrible experiments on him as well? His honor would not have accepted such a fate. Ban'eu…my friend. Forgive me for abandoning you. Perhaps fate has brought me to this place, to where you died prisoners of mad scientists, to complete the circle of destiny that I broke by…

A cloud of bubbles escaped the mask as he sighed in frustration. His upbringing made him feel cowardly and dishonorable in the face of his actions on the ice planet, but by the same count, he'd found Kayla on that desolate world. He could not feel any remorse for his actions regarding her in those first few weeks, even though he'd turned his back on his team. Another snort of bubbles obscured his vision and he shook his head within the confines of the restraints. It was pointless to berate himself over the past; there was no way to bring his comrades back. The only thing that he could do was avenge their deaths.

His tusks twitched slightly as his eyes settled on the image of Omak. And I will, brothers, if it is the last thing that I do.

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*Screeeeeeech!*

"Hold its tail, dammit! Don't act like you've never done this before, people! Careful now!"

Kayla huddled against the door of her cell trying to peer out of the little slit without being seen. Six people stood in the corridor with a large cage of what looked like plex, and were attempting to wrangle one of the creatures into it. The beast appeared to be a juvenile, since it was not quite as tall as the guards, but its strength was already incredible. She winced when one of the guards was thrown into her door by the strength of its tail, and the female voice piped up again to bark orders. She couldn't tell which of the guards was female due to their layers of protective clothing, but the voice bellowed again.

"Goddammit, Murray! Can't you get through one day without breaking yourself? Somebody get him out of the way! Grab the damn tail, you fools! It's got a mind of its own! You guys are hopeless!"

She snickered under her breath and hazarded another peek out of the door. The young alien – 'bugs' the guards were calling them – was crammed into the plex cage, and they were pushing it toward the elevator. The bugs on either side of the corridor attacked their cells with abandon, screeching loud enough to cause ringing in her ears, but their fury was pointless. The little brother of their prisoner hive disappeared into the lift, and moments later their screams tapered off to quiet hissing. Kayla wondered idly where they were taking the creature, and winced at the possibilities that flowed through her mind.

She'd been left in 'the pit' for what felt like a full day, and though she hoped they'd lost interest in her, she knew it would not be the case. She tried to remember Kh'aan's description of the creatures – their lifecycle and habits – but kept coming back to the 'impregnation'. She winced at the thought of carrying around an alien insect. Will they try that with me? With Kh'aan? Who am I kidding, that's why he's in a lab while I'm trapped in a cell. I bet they tried it with all of his friends too. Bastards! I won't let them do it! They'll have to kill me! I swear they'll have to KILL ME!

The marine hopped to her feet, hiking up the slouching scrubs pants as she started to pace around the cell. Even the first pair of pants she'd worn in over a year wasn't enough to stifle her anger. Her mind raced with all of the information she was rapidly learning about this species, from the creatures as well as the humans. Listening to them from within her cell was akin to being trapped in a zoo with the attractions. She was surprised to feel traces of empathy, and couldn't quell them no matter how much their eyeless faces and hissing double-jaws terrified her. The conversation with Kh'aan, from nearly a lifetime ago, repeated through her mind - "They breed within hosts, right? That sounds messy. And acid for blood? How do you kill them without getting killed?" Kayla groaned and stopped her pacing, slipping to the floor opposite the door. She had no idea how to get out of this predicament, and after so long without Kh'aan, she was starting to wonder if she'd ever see him again – intact…alive. She pounded the back of her head against the wall, and the symphony renewed in earnest. Frustrated, the marine started to pound her fists on the floor and screech along with them, fighting to keep the welling tears from escaping her eyes.

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Jones hurried to the infirmary, his imposing build, stern expression and determined stride clearing the path as he walked. His expression would have stopped the heart of a lion, but inside he was on the verge of a breakdown. Not enough time! They'll pop him by tomorrow morning at the latest! She won't be far behind and we can't lose either or we lose them both. DAMMIT! No time! He stormed into the infirmary and marched right into Dr. Kirkpatrick's face. Brian raised a foot to step back, but Leonard grabbed him by the arms.

"What the fuck was that, Doc? That injection nearly put Wilkins to sleep! I've told you before not to cross me!" He leaned in close and Kirkpatrick cringed, but could not escape the whispered snarl. "They're gonna do it! Tomorrow if not tonight! We've gotta do something now!"

Kirkpatrick's breath caught in his throat, and he easily read the panic in Jones' eyes. The imposing soldier released Brian's arms and stepped back, the snarl sounding more like a choke. "Don't fuck with me, little man! Just keep on saying 'yes sir', and maybe I'll let you off the hook."

Brian read the plea in his eyes – HELP! – and nodded while planting a frightened expression on his face. "Yes sir! I'm sorry sir! It won't happen again…sir!"

"Don't get smart with me, medic!" Jones whirled around and marched swiftly out of the infirmary, but Kirkpatrick noticed a scrap of paper fall on the floor behind him. He picked up a stack of data pads from the counter and clumsily dropped one, picking up the paper with it. Turning his back to the cameras, he smoothed out the crumpled scrap.

Tell the boys! We move tonight!

Brian took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and then shoved the scrap into the medical incinerator. The time was upon them, and they still didn't have a plan.

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