King's Consort

by Queen of the Red Skittle

Four years ago Sealink was captured as a hunter's slave, and now life continues in the Hive. Until she discovers a human settlement, that is.

A.N: I own nothing expect my OCs.

A.N#2: Spruced this fic up again 09.22.18. Needed to give this fic some loving.

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King's Consort

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A young woman leaned on a sun-warmed boulder in a wide, empty clearing. She was naked, her body covered in white scars. She was unremarkable to look at, neither short nor tall, her dark eyes elsewhere as she stared off. Her black hair stirred in a breeze before falling again on her bare shoulders. Her name was Sealink.

Four years ago a yautja named Dauncha captured her and brought her to his homeworld, where he transformed her into a practiced killer. She had escaped, along with the companion she called Damon. Before her capture she had been just Sealink, a human living among a small Hive of Xenomorphs. Now she was Sealink, Xenomorph Queen encased in human flesh. Telekinesis was hers. The ability to reach out to the other members was hers. Her eyes and hair were as black as a Queen's comb, her stare as faraway as a monarch's.

A creature as hideous and cadaverous as a nightmare appeared by the girl's side. Its eyeless, nightmarish head peered unerringly at her. Exposed ligaments gave its jaws a ghastly leer, as if it were smiling at some macabre joke.

It approached the unmoving girl. When it came within reach, the girl reached up with a steady hand and began to caress the black carapace. Sealink smiled. It was a tiny, unnoticed twitch. The praetorian in her hand was young. Sealink called him Zizar.

Sealink, the Xenomorph said. He opened and closed in a parody of speech, though the word appeared in her head. Sealink remembered when the praetorian, a defender of the Hive, had been nothing but a slimy chestbuster, still covered in traumatic birth-blood. When the yautja captured her Zizar had been a young, a soft version of the creature he would become. And here he was now four years later, beautiful and sleek.

"How goes the patrols? Anything to report?" she asked.

There were some interesting deer movements by the northern bank, Zizar said. He prattled on for a bit about new vegetation and changes in fauna, his voice gliding over mundane details. Sealink listened with half an ear, eyes elsewhere, teeth worrying lower lip. She perked only when the praetorian said, Kaylon and I passed by the human settlement, just as you said we should.

Sealink leaned forward, her black eyes unblinking. "And?" she said. Her stomach, unsettled all morning, began to twist.

Zizar, sensing the girl's change in demeanor, sat on his haunches like a monstrous canine. When Kaylon and I went by, we didn't sense any of them. Not a one. Kaylon thinks 'They are content to scheme by their own dwellings than intrude ours.'

Sealink passed her tongue over her upper lip and fell silent. Her stomach churned, refusing to settle. Zizar fidgeted. We did well, right, Sealink? We didn't do anything wrong.

The girl hissed. She lifted a hand and waved it in the air, as if to dislodge an annoying gnat. "You did fine, Zizar, you and Kaylon both. Go on, now. I've some thinking to do."

Zizar rose and, hearing nothing else, began to pad away. The praetorian maintained a sedate stride for only a few moments before leaping away in exuberance. Sealink watched him go. She knew her Hive wasn't like the other Hives. Her humanity was part of the equation. She was sure of it.

Again, my humanity is to thank for warping their natures, she thought. Her brow furrowed again, and her renewed pensiveness descended on her thoughts. Maybe I shouldn't worry, she thought. I mean, if the patrols show up nothing, and the humans aren't attacking, then why do I feel like this?

I can hear you thinking from here, Sealink, a voice in the background said, mellow and growing larger.

Sealink didn't turn to face this new Xenomorph, but lifted her arms up to touch the underside of the jaw overhanging her head. Every nick and scar were familiar to her and some of the cloud dispersed. It was Damon. He had been Sealink's most favorite praetorian before the late Queen's passing, but now he was Xenomorph King, Sealink's monarchial counterpart. He was massive now, twice as large as a normal praetorian. He bore two branching horns upon his brow and displayed an ornate, regal crest, similar to a pure Xenomorph Queen's. A pair of secondary arms graced his skeletal chest, which now moved to caress Sealink's face in a clumsy attempt at comfort. The fingers were hard and cold as they touched her upturned cheek. Cold breath fanned her face, sending her skin erupting in gooseflesh despite the warmth of the summer day.

"Damon," Sealink said. "I haven't seen you all day."

I was dreaming, the monstrous creature said, the hands touching the girl's face gentle. I was in a place—a little like a cage the yautja kept me in, but not. I felt neither fear, nor surprise. It stretched in all directions, but it contained a fullness I have never encountered, as if all of eternity was curled next to me. I did not want to move. I was content.

"Sounds like a good dream," Sealink murmured, as if to herself.

The King moved above her. It was, as dreams sometimes are. But what about you, Sealink? You seem troubled. What did the patrols have to say about the human settlement?

Sealink made a thick sound through her nose. She moved out of Damon's ministrations and stood in front of her second half. "That's just it. Zizar told me he and Kaylon went by and sensed nothing. Absolutely nothing. But I swear they're up to something. I can feel it." She fell into a thin silence, until she said, "I almost wish Zizar hadn't chanced upon the humans last month. It would've spared me the extra worry. I would be content, like you in your dreams."

When the Xenomorph King spoke, his tone was still, like dead water. Why worry so much? he asked. Ever since your knowledge of them, they have dominated your thoughts. Why maintain vigil on the humans?

Sealink shook her head. She understand dimly why she felt such a suspicion towards the people whom she shared appearance. Mentally she was a Queen, but physically she was human, and somewhere deep in her flesh were echoes of foreign desires and urges not part of a Xenomorph psyche. She sometimes woke from a dream gasping, a dampness between her legs. Or sometimes she fantasized about meeting a human male, and how they would interact. These visions—thoughts, dreams—frightened her. They were supposed to have no hold of her, yet did.

This fact left a tiny, bitter, unmovable taste in her mouth. She also didn't trust humans because she knew their nature yearned for destruction and war. Hadn't the late Queen told her that?

I'm capable of the same things because some part of me will always be human, Sealink thought to herself. But how say this to a Xenomorph, who had no knowledge of human nature? Common drones and praetorians viewed humans as hosts for their children, nothing more.

"I just don't like it," Sealink said at last. "They're planning something. I feel it."

Planning what?

Again Sealink shook her head, and this time she hissed in frustration, frustrated she couldn't come up with a better answer, frustrated why such a horrible sense of oppression loomed over her. The human settlement harbored a secret, and she was going to root it out.

The great head bent down. With the delicateness of fawn the Xenomorph nuzzled Sealink.

I won't be your opponent, he said. If you think we should watch these humans, then we'll watch. But know we won't be able to stay here forever. Soon we will exhaust the food supplies in the area.

Sealink bowed into Damon's embrace. Her lids fluttered under a wave of fatigue. She felt the Xenomorph hiss into her hair. You should rest. Sleeping would do well for your head, and perhaps give you the answers you are looking for.

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.s.

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At last night covered the forest in a shroud of inky darkness. She rode on Damon's back, silent and preoccupied. This was going to be the third night in the row at the settlement, and hopefully Sealink would discover something. Of what? Sealink bared her teeth in frustration. Why couldn't she put a finger on it? Underneath her, Damon's muscles rippled like liquid steel. It had been against her wishes that he'd come, but the King had insisted. He strode now as some prehistoric creature, both ponderous in mass and silent in intent. Without turning his head, he said, Relax, Sealink. You're going to need your strength.

Sealink drew a deep breath and released it. She looked up without meaning to, desperate to distract herself from her own mind. A blanket of stars glittered overhead, cold and vast. The girl drew the deer hide blanket closer around her shoulders and shivered. Somewhere out there was the yautja homeworld, hot and blood-soaked.

Would they ever find her again? She didn't know. When she had killed her old captor and all of his hunting party, she had been sure she had killed the secret to her planet. The only ship which had gone to her planet was hidden away beneath a shroud of fallen trees. She shivered again and had to look away from the galaxies overhead. Damon was quiet beneath her, his sure feet taking her towards her obsession. Sealink contemplated her partner beneath her, frowning.

"What are you thinking about, Damon?" she asked, trying to take her mind off the approaching task.

How beautiful you are, he said.

"I'm not beautiful. I'm ugly, in a human body."

Damon made an odd sound beneath her, a mixture of a kettle's hiss and a rock cracking in two. Human body you may possess, but your soul is beautiful.

"Some part of me will always be human, so some part of me will always be ugly."

A bird who hates its wings will never learn to fly, the Xenomorph King, perhaps the only one of his kind in the universe, said. Neither he nor Sealink said anything else for a long time. The world slid by in quiet shadows, the forest subdued and withdrawn. Sealink had remembered how she had yearned for her forest when she was on the yautja homeworld, how safe it made her feel. Now it filled her with a vague discomfort, an unshakeable foreboding.

A surge of bitterness went out to the humans. I hate them, she thought. The familiar comfort of hatred, nurtured by her time with the yautja, cooled her belly. If there was one thing she knew humans were capable of, deep within their skin, Sealink knew, it was their love for hatred. Her triumph was bittersweet.

At long last Damon drooped, lowering his body to the ground so Sealink could slide off. They were at the settlement. Already the scent of grease and metal assaulted her senses. Bright lights, glaring and cold in nature, peered out at random intervals. Sealink wordlessly began to walk toward the lights, but was stopped by a gentle rumble from Damon.

You are Xenomorph. You are human. You are the Queen's daughter . . . and the consort to a King. Be proud, my love. Know that.

Sealink bent her head and the fierce visage bent down to meet her. For the third night in a row the two of them spent a moment feeling each other's breath on their face, listening to the internal rhythm of the other. Sealink slipped into Damon's essence with the skill of practice and relished, for a moment, the sensation of being fully Xenomorph. Her massive chest drew in air and exhaled dust. Her horns branched out like a bull's and her crest curved back like an expansive crown. In a heartbeat she focused her attention. Beyond the cover of the trees she sensed the human settlement like a malaise wind. A frown pulled at her being, and Sealink opened her eyes. She was back in her own soft, human flesh. She looked up at the Xenomorph King, her insides cold.

Good hunt, Damon said, and Sealink slunk off.

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.s.

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Sealink wrinkled her nose at the metallic smell hanging over the air and ducked lower in the bushes. She was not thirty feet away and cover was becoming sparse. She rested on the balls of her feet, hardly stirring leaf or twig. Her heart was thunder in her ears.

The settlement was nothing spectacular: on earlier raids for hosts Sealink had discovered most of the buildings were empty shells carrying only the barest materials for survival. Nothing but a strange metal shells. Others were the humans' sleeping lairs, while one was where they all ate. The settlement was shaped in a circle, the more important buildings in the centre. Sealink roughly made an estimate of about three hundred souls living there.

What were they doing? Sealink knew in her gut there was more to the equation. Couldn't the humans stay on their own native homeworld? An image of ants came to her mind, which she instantly shook away. She hated ants, with their mindless conformity and terrifying efficiency.

Sealink drew closer. She was now twenty feet from the nearest building. She cocked her head, listening for any footsteps. Nothing. The pair of guards which normally patrolled the area were absent. Sealink always left them alone. They carried guns. She wondered if a yautja gave the guns to the humans, but shook the idea away. No yautja would freely give another species weapons. The humans must've designed them themselves.

However her feelings were towards their weapons, killing the guards themselves would be of no use to her. It would only arouse the other humans' suspicions and make spying difficult.

Sealink circled about the encampment, shying away from bursts of laughter and talking within a metal den. Pale white light spilled from inside. Tantalizing smells issued from the den: meat, perhaps grilling over a fire. The girl sunk low as two large males appeared from an entrance, each of them sporting a gun. They passed by the girl's hiding place without a glance, conversing in low voices. Sealink cursed. Of all the lessons she had with the old Queen, she had not taught her the human tongue. It was like jelly to her ears.

Sealink left the cover of the bushes and followed the two guards. She ghosted behind them on quiet feet, sweat beading her brow despite the cool air. I can escape into the forest if they discover me, the small, clinical part of her said. If they follow, I'll kill one, or both. Her eyes never left the backs of the two humans in front of her. They hadn't ceased their chatter, and appeared to have entered a heated debate from their rising volume.

Sealink chose that moment to duck behind metal cylinder held flush to another metal shelter. A window of light beamed over her head. The two humans continued on, oblivious. The girl waited for them to disappear before peeking into the window. An acrid stink of chemicals made her eyes smart and nose sting. She withdrew for a moment, gagging. Then she returned again for another look. Her eyes widened.

It was as if looking upon a yautja weapons room. The entire metal shell was filled with rows upon rows of guns. There were enough to arm many handfuls of humans, several times over. Sealink forgot herself and stood upright, mind struggling to comprehend the vast amounts of killing power. She had seen what one human gun could do. What if all of these were employed at the same time? Her little Hive would be no match if the humans chose to attack. There was enough here for an army.

Sealink jerked at a sudden shouting. She froze. It were the two guards from before, their faces flushed and frowning, their mouths wide. One of them was shouldering his gun. Sealink watched them for another moment before fleeing as fast as she could into the forest. A tree trunk exploded by her head. She ducked as splinters rained over her hair. She swerved deeper into the obscuring cover of the woods, her legs powering her to greater speeds, until at last the dying shouts were meaningless.

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.s.

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"I knew it. They were up to something." Sealink stood in front of the three Xenomorphs present: Kaylon, Zaphara, and Damon. They formed her council. A still, small voice said to her, In a real Hive there would be no council, but Sealink shook the tiny voice with considerable annoyance. It was morning: the sun had barely reached the top of the trees, dying them bright gold. Mist rose from the lake, muting all sounds. Sealink had little patience for nature's beauty.

Great bags hung beneath her eyes as she regarded her family. Both praetorian and drone were seated as canines, hissing softly as they respired. The Xenomorph King rested on the ground like a giant sphinx, his haunches curled and his front arms laid out in front.

This cannot be a good sign, Zaphara said. If it is true of what you say, then we must act.

Must we? the seasoned praetorian asked. Three hundred against the Hive—three of us nothing but younglings still while the rest rather young. Even Zizar hasn't reached his full height.

Sealink nodded. "True. It would be reckless to attack them now."

Damon wrinkled his lips over silver teeth. We don't know if they mean to attack us.

Why wouldn't they? We steal their kin for hosts, Zaphara said, shifting on her haunches. Her ribbed tail curled, unfurled. Its knife-tip gouged a rift in the dirt.

Is that enough to lead them into war with us? Kaylon asked.

But that still doesn't change the fact that we do take their lives, the senior drone said.

"I don't like it," Sealink said. "True, we would take a few for hosts. But is that the true cause? I would really like to know how to treat this. That's why I summoned you all." Sealink shifted to hide her discomfort. She was young, and it showed. She wished the late Queen was present, if only to turn over the reins of leadership for a little while.

Damon spoke again. All what you saw was a room of these guns. Is this enough to panic?

She said she saw one room of these things, Kaylon said. There could be more.

If that is the case, we should act now, Zaphara said.

Are you foolish? Kaylon said. His lips peeled over even teeth as his hissed. Three hundred humans versus our little Hive.

At this, Damon said, To 'act' may not mean 'to attack,' Kaylon. Perhaps Zaphara means we should leave.

"Leave?" Sealink said. "Leave where?" A moment of silence passed over the group. Sealink knew their thoughts without having to enter their essences: moving beyond the parameters of their territory would mean war of a different kind. If we stray but a little, she thought, we run risk of going into another Hive's territory.

She knew there were several others on the planet. An uneasy truce between the Hives made it possible for tense coexistence, but little more. Xenomorphs were not meant to mingle with other Hives. They would attack a foreign Xenomorph, just as bees from one colony treated other hives as aggressors. And these humans are taking up room, she thought. If she tried to move further north, where the rest of her territory lay, it would be too cold to survive for her.

What if the humans aren't going to attack us because we use them as hosts? Kaylon asked. What if they are going to attack to drive us out?

There was a moment of silence before Zaphara said, Impossible. This land is big. Why would they want to drive us out?

"The Queen once told me humans are exploring, hungry creatures," Sealink said before Kaylon could retort. But it was a Queen had never told her much about humans, save for how they were good hosts. No. She knew this because she knew herself. "They want more land. They are not satisfied with what they already have, probably. And even if they do drive us out of this one place, they would still hunt us down to get more land. Or, they want to get rid of us to create a safe path for exploration."

Even if that happens, they would run into the other Hives, Damon said. There is only a small amount of 'safety' for them on this planet.

Another silence, more somber then the last, fell upon them. Even the King Xenomorph appeared to brood as his great cold fingers dug long furrows in the ground. Sealink struggled to ignore the increasing pressure for her to come up with a solution. Her cheeks began to heat. She instantly regretted calling the council half-cocked. Then something made the girl pause.

"What did you say, Damon?" she asked.

Damon repeated himself. Sealink hissed in triumph. "That's it! We just let them destroy themselves."

Kaylon shifted. When he spoke, his voice was cautious. How do you propose we do that, Queen?

"We infiltrate them," Sealink said, "like any other Hive." She took in a deep breath to settle the rising sense of excitement building within her. "The way a Hive is built is for the Queen to produce eggs and use the surrounding creatures as hosts, right? Over the years we have been stealing the hosts we need. But what if we do the opposite? What if we let the implanters go to the humans? Granted, it'll be tricky. We'll need to get close enough for them to—"

Wait, Sealink, Damon said. His focus on her was sharp and narrow. What are you saying?

"I want to infiltrate the human settlement to use them as hosts on a mass-scale," Sealink said. "Instead of stealing one or two humans, we use all of them. How do you think other Queens do it? We do this, and let the hatched children kill the humans."

Kaylon and Zaphara clacked their jaws and crouched low to the ground. Damon never moved.

You would sacrifice sentient children? His words were colourless. Sealink could feel his focus burning her. She shrugged it off.

"I know a way of throttling sentience," Sealink said coolly. "The Xenomorphs born would have basic urges, nothing more."

It's a good plan, Zaphara said. Better sacrifice true drones than the sentient members we have already.

But how do you plan to execute it, Queen? Kaylon said. You reproduce with live parasites. Without the safety of the egg-casing, they cannot survive for long without a host nearby.

Sealink bowed her head. It was true she could not produce the eggs a normal Queen could, but somehow the previous Queen had given her another trait to compensate. Whenever it was needed, Sealink vomited an implanter, tiny compared to a normal one hatched from an egg. It would in turn rapidly grow to standard size before latching itself to the host. She shivered as she remembered the tiny legs crawling up her gullet.

"I'll infiltrate the humans and impregnate them with as many as I can," Sealink said. "The humans won't know what hit them. They'll be too busy trying to figure out what happened when the drones finish them off."

A heavy rumble came from within Damon's chest. And how do you plan to accomplish that?

"I'll let them capture me."

The silence followed had Zaphara and Kaylon cringing away from the King. Sealink didn't back down. Damon bared silver teeth and in a voice coated with ice, said:

Leave us.

Zaphara and Kaylon both bowed before their Queen and King and fled, leaving Damon and Sealink alone. The girl didn't look away from her counterpart. She waited for him to speak his piece, but as a silence drew on to breaking edge, she had enough.

"We can't leave this place because of the truce between the Hives. Also, we can't leave because our territory extends only northward—we would freeze to death in winter. We can't stay because the humans would most likely attack us to obtain more territory. As Kaylon said, three hundred against fourteen is unlucky," Sealink said. "What more would you want from me, Damon? I am Queen. I must do this to save my Hive."

The risk is too great, Damon said.

"Damn the risks," Sealink said. She began to pace, unable to stay still any longer. The mist from the lake was long gone. A small wind had picked up and covered the surface of the water with small waves. Their lapping sounds on the tiny, sandy shore were like bells. The great black head of the King drew back. His lips peeled back and remained there, as if grinning at some private jest, or grimacing at a foul taste.

It will be dangerous.

Sealink barked in laughter. "I didn't survive the yautja to have a few humans scare me," she said. "Why wouldn't they accept me? I look like them. Wasn't it you who said I should accept all the aspects of myself?"

Accept, Damon said, face still a fearsome leer. Not simply use.

Sealink snorted. She ran a hand through grimy hair. She looked away. "I have to do this. And you know it."

Damon's jaws yawned wide enough to swallow a passing bird. The resulting snap had Sealink tense.

I may not like it, the Xenomorph said, but you are right. There is no other alternative. However, be warned, my Sealink. Humans are not all what they seem.

Sealink grunted. "So now you're the expert on humans?" She regretted her words, but pride kept the apology silent.

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.s.

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Sealink woke up around midday. She rose from her makeshift bed of leaves and animal furs and made her way to the lake. Several of the drones were already there, lounging in the sun, their chitin glinting in the sunlight. Their elongated skulls followed Sealink's trek as she went to the river's edge and leapt in. In an instant her world became quiet and murky. The girl kicked her legs to gain distance. She swam until her lungs began to burn. She sputtered to the surface, kicking out with her strong legs, treading water.

She swam further out. She swam until she her arms began to ache, then went back to shore. She rose from the lake and went to the food stockpile. She ate her fill of nuts and berries slowly, water still dripping from damp hair. Thoughts were slow to come. She went to the lakeside and began to circle it, trudging through the water and letting the thin reeds slap at her shins. It wasn't until a tickling feeling along the back of her neck did Sealink stiffen. She instantly stretched her awareness. She hissed when she found the source.

"Zizar, you rouge."

Finally sensed me. The young praetorian stepped in front of her. His body dwarfed the girl's. His jaws clacked in the air as he turned his head this way and that. Sealink reached out and stroked the ligaments in the jaw line without much thought, her sudden burst of annoyance cooling. She casually toyed with the idea of slipping into Zizar's essence, but decided against it. She had never merged with the youthful praetorian's being before.

"Walk with me?" she asked.

The Xenomorph fell into stride next to Sealink, his steps slow so Sealink could keep up. Despite his youth his shoulder blade came up to his companion's chest, his head rising a head taller than Sealink's. Sealink draped an arm through his shoulder spikes, lost in thought. For once, Zizar didn't interrupt his Queen but kept walking, silent as well. They walked until a point of the lake where there was a sandy beach. Sealink left Zizar's side and waded further in. The young praetorian waited on the edge of the water, resting on his side like a dog. He didn't move when Sealink went to him, finished with her swim.

May I ask a question?

Sealink eyed Zizar. "What's all this politeness? Kaylon rubbing off on you?"

There was a hesitation. Sealink . . . are you going attack the humans?

"What? Where'd you hear that?" asked Sealink. She inwardly frowned. She thought she made it clear to Kaylon and Zaphara the meeting last morning was to be secret. She knew Damon wouldn't speak out of turn.

No one told me. I assumed it because you always went to the humans place and this time you held a secret meeting. So. Is it true?

A smile ghosted over her face. It wasn't a pleasant one. Humans and their battles, she thought. Even I am doomed to pursue it. Was that why I had obsessed over the human settlement so much? "Yes."

Why?

Sealink shrugged, trying not to show her discomfort. She had thought keeping the rest of Hive oblivious would keep them calm.

"You're asking things a bit sensitive in nature, Zizar," Sealink said.

The Xenomorph hissed. But it somehow concerns me, so I want you to explain.

Sealink stared, mouth agape. When she finally understood what the praetorian had said, Zizar had as well. The praetorian instantly flattened himself to the sand, a queer whining sound emitting deep within his chest. An odd tremor took over him. When he spoke, his voice was expressionless.

Forgive me, Queen. This praetorian spoke out of turn.

Sealink shivered. "Stop it, Zizar," she said, and the Xenomorph's tremors stilled. Zizar rose, warbling softly.

I don't know what came over me, the Xenomorph said, voice lost. His jaws clacked. His lips writhed. Sorry about that, Sealink. I'll leave now.

Sealink reached out and put a hand on the cool neck. "Don't leave. You just took me off guard."

Zizar lowered his head. Sealink rubbed it, feeling the minute scars and nicks littered throughout the black surface. She leaned in close. Her distorted reflection peered back, muted and washed-out. There was no reason, no thought. In a tiny move Sealink covered the distance between them and pressed her lips on the curving surface. It was like kissing a metallic hull, except this metal was organic and cool.

The coolness shouldn't have surprised her but it did, and she withdrew after a second had passed. Sealink felt her blood rush to her cheeks and she passed a hand over her lips in a vaguely scrubbing way. When she looked up again she saw the young praetorian had pulled back. His head wove slowly in the air, jaws creaking open and snapping shut.

Sealink got up. A wind moved through and hit her wet body, causing a crop of gooseflesh to ripple across her skin. She didn't look at Zizar.

"You're right," she said. "I have to tell the others, but not now."

Tell them what? Zizar spoke lowly, as if to himself. But Sealink heard him, and knew he didn't deserve more secrets.

"By nature humans are greedy creatures, and will want more territory once they've grown tired of their current living conditions. Once they do, the only way to get it is to kill us or drive us out. I won't allow that." She paused. "When the time is right, I'm going to let them capture me. When they do, I will infect the humans form the inside out."

The young praetorian flinched, tail digging in the sand. Sealink made herself ignore it. The breeze came back, this time with enough force to make Sealink wish for a deerskin towel. She began walking away, towards the camp. Zizar followed, his typical bounce absent. The girl put a wet arm around the black neck. She didn't have the heart to slip in her friend's essence to understand how he felt, nor did she want to encourage his questioning nature. But before she could become too relieved in Zizar's unusually subdued nature, his voice slipped into her mind. She hadn't heard him use her nickname in years.

Se, how did you understand the humans so well?

But Sealink knew he knew.

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.s.

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Sealink gazed out across the clearing from the giant boulder, watching a mock scuffle between Kaylon and Zizar down below. It was slowly approaching dusk, the late afternoon light creeping across the pock-marked ground. Kaylon was larger than the younger praetorian, and more seasoned, but the smaller Xenomorph was quick. Zizar darted to avoid punishment, skidding moments out of the way of a cuff. The two broke off and circles, shoulder spikes bristling, humanlike forearms bracing in the soil. Saliva dripped from the small, clenched mouths.

Sealink closed her eyes. Slipping in Kaylon's essence was like slipping in a meat glove, constrictive yet comforting, a womb of sorts. She could feel the praetorian acknowledge her presence. She shook her head. It was long and black now, elegant in design. Her tail cut the air. Her saliva fell to the forest floor. She could see Zizar before her in sound and distance, a pale mass on her radar. When she leapt, she leapt as a Xenomorph.

Zizar darted out of the way of her strike and lashed one of his own. Sealink shouldered it and allowed the feint to get her closer. Using her superior heft she collided with the smaller praetorian. She collapsed with him to the ground, where her weight kept him pinned. Zizar struggled a few more times, spitting and screeing, before clicking in surrender. Sealink panted above him, teeth bared in a savage grin.

Get off me, Kaylon, Zizar said.

Guess again, Sealink said.

The young praetorian had a bare moment of confusion before Sealink slipped away from Kaylon's essence. Her eyes opened and she was back in her human body, far above the mock-fray. Kaylon moved off of Zizar, who remained on the ground for a moment more before flipping upright. Both praetorians turned their heads in her direction. Sealink waved back.

When are you going to tell the others your plan?

Sealink glanced behind her. It was Damon. The massive Xenomorph King lay behind her. The head moved in slow, ponderous sweeps as he regarded her.

Sealink shrugged and looked away. "Should I?"

The movements stilled. Do you think should?

"I don't know. A part of me doesn't." She regarded Zizar, now entreating with a tolerant drone to engage in a scuffle. She ran a hand through her hair. "And another does."

They deserve it, at least that much. There is a chance you might not survive, Damon said.

Sealink turned on him. "You think I don't know that? Of course I know I might die. This might not work."

Yet you're willing to let your fate remain a secret among your Hive? Damon's long fingers on his primary hands, black against the warm glow of the granite, twitched. Sealink watched them, transfixed. Their smallest length was the size of her entire forearm. For some reason they were joined in twos at the knuckles, giving the appearance of two fingers and a thumb, instead of four and a thumb.

"I don't like goodbyes," Sealink said, but knew it was a poor excuse. She knew she hated the feeling of abandoning her people, and the uncertainty of returning. Her initial capture four years ago smacked of it. And now, on the cusp of the biggest decision of her life, all she could think about was the image of her people watching her leave, alien emotions wisping behind their black carapaces. Would they be judging her? Did they judge her the first time she chose to go with the yautja?

You are forgetting they trust you. As Queen, you must make decisions best suited for their continuation. His cold breath fanned her face as he bent his head to her. I fear for you, but I trust. Trust your people as well, Sealink, and they will follow you to whatever end we have in store.

Sealink felt herself smile. It was nothing more than a crinkle of the eyes, but something deeper relaxed, as if a cold glove released its grip around her heart. She got up and embraced her soul's counterpart, wrapping her summer-tanned arms around the dome of her inexplicable love.

I love you, she thought, warmth filling her to the brim. A deep, chest-vibrating rumble echoed in her bones, and she received the only answer she would ever require. And later that day, when afternoon turned to dusk, when she stood in front of the small Hive of Xenomorphs, she stood tall and composed. She said what was needed, and felt the acceptance like leaves drifting on her skin in autumn, one by one falling in place. Only from a certain young praetorian did she feel something other than acceptance, but there was no time to deal with a willful youth.

Then she slipped into the forest, and was gone.

.

.s.

.

Her feet knew the way by heart as she headed towards the human settlement. Her heart was a live thing in her chest but she refused to succumb to it, dealing instead with what she would do once she was indoctrinated. She knew she would have to sacrifice any children she brought to the world. Her heart hardened and quickened at the same time. The hunt was on, the chase, the uncertainty of success, the breathlessness.

She loathed to admit it but she missed this, this visceral pool of emotions so reminiscent of her time with the yautja. Memories of the gladiatorial fights, where she was pitted against captured Xenomorphs, found fire in her mind. She knew she was entering a far larger arena, where the enemies were more numerous and deadly than any drone or praetorian she had fought. Life and death, victory and defeat: it was all the same, only this time there were no yautja, only her. She was the hunter, and if she could, she would leave no survivors.

Sealink slipped through the bushes, almost in the harsh, artificial light. She could feel the blood pulse in her ears. She swallowed, steadied herself, and walked into view.

It took several moments before the first human saw her. He brought his gun to arm and shouted. Another human came running, and repeated his companion. Sealink watched at more and more humans poured out of the metal settlements, most holding guns. She clenched her jaw, but refused to cower. Then one human came out different from the rest. She was female. She wore all white. She made repeated sounds, sharp and clipped, and kept motioning at her companions. One by one the others lowered the guns, all except two, the original guards who saw her. Sealink ignored them. She fastened eyes with the female. A man, also in white, approached the woman. The two of them exchanged muted words. The woman seemed adamant about her position. Sealink watched as the rest of the guards backed away until only the original two remained. The woman beckoned Sealink. Sealink did, and before she knew it she was headed towards through a door.

She took one last look at the forest beyond the lights, then was gone.

.

.s.

.

The guards matched her step for step as the small party followed the woman. Sealink tried to ignore the way the two guards followed her. She could feel them staring. The hair on the back of her neck raised and she told herself they were not her subjects to snarl away. She was no longer Xenomorph. Now she was just Sealink, a meek, unassuming human female.

The woman dressed all in white strode ahead, leading Sealink deeper in the human complex. The male companion besides her was chattering something, the words quick and low. The girl didn't try to decider what they were saying. She didn't speak their tongue. Ironic, she thought, that the yautja's tongue is more familiar to me than my own flesh-kin. Her heart hardened. Both are my enemies. What does it matter if I know their tongue or not?

The corridors were long and gray, as if made by one smooth stone, cold beneath her bare feet. They reminded her of a burrowing lemming and its underground tunnels. When she reached out to touch the surface one of the guards clicked his gun. Sealink glanced over her shoulder. He offered her a cheeky smile, but his gray eyes were like the wildcats of the forest: predatory, a hunter's.

Suddenly Sealink didn't like the two guards so close behind her, especially this one. She looked away and kept walking. At last the woman and her companion stopped at a door. Sealink walked up, guards still close. The woman chattered something at her. Sealink looked on.

The woman smiled when she saw Sealink wasn't going to answer. She nodded over Sealink's head. The girl twitched as the two guards, in unison, stepped back. It struck her that these two guards may've shared the same birthmother. They're brothers, she thought. Then she entered the room.

The room's whiteness struck her first. Nothing in nature was this white, unless it was the white pelt of the wild krageera of the north. The setup automatically reminded her of Dauncha's medical lair. There were two rows of three medium-sized tables, each covered in a white layer. There were black screens and strange white boxes clinging to the walls. An odd smell prevailed throughout the room, crisp and sterile.

Sealink wrinkled her nose at it. The woman beckoned her to one such table. Sealink braced her shoulders and went to her, despite hiding a shudder of intense dislike. After gladiatorial fights Dauncha or his Head Trainer Ra'ka would heal her with blue-coloured gels and odorless creams. Why would the humans want to 'heal' her? Maybe to see if I'm healthy, she thought, and brushed aside a tendril of unease. She was committed. There was no going back.

Through gestures and mimes, the woman made Sealink lay down on a table. Still making reassuring noises, the woman brought down an overhead panel that made it impossible for the girl to sit up. Before Sealink could think of escaping, a metallic whine filled her ears and a band of light fled down her body. The girl squealed and rolled off the table. She hit the floor on all fours, but the band of light, whatever it was, had already disappeared.

Sealink patted herself down. She felt no different. She looked up, prepared to offer a sheepish grin, when the expression of the woman's face stopped her. It didn't take an immense cultural gape to recognize acute confusion. Sealink forced herself to stay placid despite the rising of her heartbeat. She glanced at the two brothers. They both had left the door, their faces likened to predators caught on the scent of blood. Sealink contemplated but immediately shook the urge to wipe the insolence of their faces. She couldn't ruin this, despite her growing urge to kill the brothers.

The woman in white waved the guards way. The more verbose of the guards responded in a drawl before retreating back to the door. Sealink watched the humans, both repulsed and fascinated. At one time she belonged to a society similar to this one. She spoke like them, acted like them, loved like them. She knew she had a birthmother who could've been very similar to the woman in white. But that past was no longer part of Sealink. She was Xenomorph Queen. She could admire the humans, study them, even pretend to habituate with them, but the end result would remain the same: she would be responsible for their destruction. Any fantasy she might have living with them would be foolish.

She couldn't allow her fascination with the people who appeared like her to cloud her judgment. Humans were dangerous. She knew that personally, if her own impulses and actions weren't proof enough. She was the sacrifice to prevent harm to her family. Even the child brewing inside her was a sacrifice. The coldness, bred in her during her time with the yautja, calmed her fluttering heart, but it was a chilled comfort.

When the woman beckoned her, Sealink went over. She was given a pile of white clothing to wear. It was soft in her arms. She shamelessly stripped out of her deerskin wrap and, with the woman's help, slipped into the human garments. The girl was then led out of the medical room. The two guards took up their positions behind her, a bare step away.

The walk felt shorter, for no sooner had Sealink left the room she was introduced to another. The woman opened the door with a small white card and gestured Sealink to enter. A crick of unease had the girl peering in, but no further. A rumbling chatter from one of the brothers produced a jaundiced glare from the woman. The male quieted down after a nudge from his companion.

Sealink sniffed, then slipped into the room. It was the same gray, uniformed stone as outside. It was much smaller than the medical one. A huge black screen dominated the far side of the room. There was a small bed and a table with a device that when touched produced a cool light. There was one grated air vent.

The blackness of the far wall seemed to stare at her. It reminded her of the darkness of Damon's exoskeleton with its glints and shine. She walked to it as if in a dream and touched its smooth surface. Her reflection stared back, her irises pools of depthless ink. She reached up and brushed her face. Her reflection mirrored her. Out of the corner of her vision the woman and the two guards retreated. The door closed, and Sealink took in a deep breath to steady herself, wishing for the comfort of her King, and the expanse of the forest.

.

.s.

.

"I've never seen anything like it."

Dr. Susan Whiteread glanced over to her partner, Dr. Robin Leftwich. The small lab at junction 23A-6 was quiet, save for the perpetual humming of the medical equipment. The greenish glow of her watch said it was 2300hrs. She rubbed her hand over her eyes and wished for some late-night bacon.

"What is it?" she asked.

Leftwich's awe never wavered. "This! Come see this, Susan. It's incredible."

"But shouldn't we have gotten the results for at least another day," Susan said.

"The Colonel wanted a rush on it. It's not everyday we get a new visitor, especially not with figures like these," Leftwich said.

Susan heaved herself up from her chair to make her way over. She knew what he was referring to, and had been quite eager to see the results. Instantly she thought about the young woman who appeared earlier that night. Acted as if she'd never seen another person before. Her behavior was so strange. It reminded Susan of her brother's wolf-dog hybrid back in Chicago: clearly animalistic, clearly intelligent.

Susan's instincts screamed different! She wasn't alone. Everyone who was there remarked on the girl's inability, or unwillingness, to make even the smallest of sounds. Her face was like stone, but her eyes—so dark, Susan thought—had sharpened at the click of the guns. She had nothing on but an odd animal covering, as if she were a prehistoric Cro-Magnon.

It's like out of those stories I read, she thought. Unreal. The Company said there were no other settlers on this planet, yet now one shows up on our doorstep? This doesn't make sense. And she appears like she's been living out there for a time. Seemed healthy and cognitive enough. She reached Leftwich's side and bent down to see the computer monitor. Her eyes widened.

"What . . .?" she said.

"I double and triple-checked," Leftwich said, voice breathless. "But the neuroimage doesn't lie—these figures are off the charts. Her brain capacity outstrips anything I've seen."

"Wait." Susan peered closer. She pointed at the frontal lobe, clearly splattered with red and orange regions. "Doesn't this formation look familiar?"

"Familiar?" Leftwich squinted and readjusted his glasses.

"Pull up X349's chart."

Leftwich stopped. The glow of the monitor bathed him in red light and saturated the shadows of his face. Susan suddenly felt very alone.

"Just do it," she said.

Leftwich regarded her for a moment, then with a little shrug began typing into the computer a code that brought up another, older neuroimage. Susan leaned back and crossed her arms. The same field of red stared back the two scientists. Leftwich rubbed his mouth.

After a long while he said, "There must be a mistake."

Susan shook her head. "You said it yourself the results were accurate." She laughed a little. The quiet room seemed to glare at her, reproving. "If you would've seen her react at the scanner, I doubt she'd let me put her through it a second time."

Leftwich grunted. "There was something else I wanted to show you." The awe had simmered and was subdued, serious.

Susan took this as a bad sign and braced herself. Suddenly she was glad she put the girl in isolation room three. She looked over Leftwich's shoulder again and ignored the subtle scent of spiced cologne. The room turned green as the results of the girl's body scan appeared. Her eyes darted throughout the information, searching for the cancer, the deformity, the poison. It was only when her partner pointed it out did she notice it. She narrowed her eyes into slits.

"Can you enlarge it?" she asked.

Wordlessly Leftwich did. Susan's lip curled and nose wrinkled before she could control it. "The hell?"

There, on the screen, was an image of a tiny spider-thing in the girl's esophagus.

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.s.

.

The implanter tickled the lining of her throat. Sealink sat on the edge of her bed. Her eyes were closed. She clasped her hands in front of her and controlled her breathing. She was inside her mind, deep inside the universe of darkness and stars. She knew each bright star by heart, each constellation by name. But it was none of these which she was interested in. It was the tiny dot, no more than a whisper, that she honed in on.

It was the new child in her throat, still but a seed to be implanted. Sealink hovered about the speck, admiring her own creation with loving eyes. She stretched out her fingers and cupped it. Its minute light brightened her face. Then she closed her hands and the light blotted out. She began to squeeze. It lasted no more than a second, but it was enough. She felt the tinny snap, as if she cracked a dried fishbone. She retreated, the speck's light dimmer.

Sealink reopened her eyes. The warm universe of darks and warm lights were gone. The gray room stared back at her, uniform and filled with angles. She had only a moment before she heaved and retched in the hand. She felt the slimy, skeletal fingers before she saw her creation. It fitted in the palm of her hand and was the size and weight of a baby canary. Its body was a greenish gray and the legs were yellow-tan. Its tail was no more than a suggestion. Tick-like, it squirmed in Sealink's hand, perhaps sensing its mother. Sealink thought it was beautiful.

Sealink put the implanter in the pocket of her clothes and dragged the chair over to the air duct. On tiptoe, she squeezed the tiny child through the grating. Within moments it was gone, its skittering heard for the briefest of seconds. Then it was gone, and Sealink yearned for its company.

Sealink had barely gotten down from her chair and back on the bed when the door opened. It was a different person. A man. The wisps of his white hair were like cobwebs, his cheekbones stretched over-tight on high bones. His eyes glittered from within sunken sockets. His mouth was puckered and thin. Behind him was a young woman, her skin black. Sealink couldn't stop staring. Was something wrong with her? There were two guards at the door, but they were different from the first two that had accompanied Sealink, for which she was relieved. The brothers' identical aura of danger sat ill with her. These current stone-faced brutes did little to her.

A hot smell brought her attention back to the old man and the young woman. In her hands was a plate full of what could only be food. When it was presented to her, Sealink dove in, smelling everything before eating it. She had never tasted anything like it. It was gummy and hot, with a pastel, slightly sweet taste. There were metallic objects next to the plate, which Sealink ignored. Even before the brownish paste could cool she was finished and licking her fingers. A horrible cloying filled her mouth and suddenly she yearned for water. She almost hissed with thanks when the young black-skinned woman offered a tall glass of water. Sealink gulped it down without a second thought.

A few moments later a heavy fog rolled over. Sealink tried to shake the sudden exhaustion and tried to stand up, but couldn't feel her legs. She saw all dark even before she crashed to the floor.

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.s.

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"What do you mean, 'It isn't there anymore'?"

Dr. Susan Whiteread's stomach was in a knot and she didn't know why, let alone explain it to Leftwich and the other scientists in her triage. She knew he tried to understand, his eyes bright and willing, eager as a puppy's, but blank. When told about the anomaly in the girl's scan, a hypothesis came up that she was some sort of indigenous alien. That was ruled out. Her labwork showed she was human. Physically, at least, for the most part. Her beta- and delta waves were quite different, more akin to something for more sinister.

One of the scientists, a new recruit from three months ago, suggested she was from another human colony the Company had sent over. Judging the girl's approximate age, that would have to have been about twenty, twenty-three years ago. The mystery thickened when Company records reported a previously attempted civilian colony around the same time. Reports showed it never worked, its reason classified. Susan had already filed a claim to see the manifest of the failed colony.

"See for yourself," Demikhov said. "Whatever you and Dr. Leftwich saw, it's gone."

Susan looked at the scan. The recruit was right. The spider-like creature originally in the girls' throat was gone. She eyed the sleeping girl on the table. Her body was covered in scars, long scratches and scrapes. She was almost white with them. What type of life had she had? And I've never seen hair as dark as hers, she didn't even have brown highlights under the intense fluorescent lights.

"Dr. Whiteread? What do you think we should do?" It was Leftwich, once again pulling her out of her thoughts. He was leaning towards her, brow furrowed.

"Keep her in isolation," Susan said, "until we know fully what's up with the girl. Let's take all the tests we can before she wakes up, then put her back in the surveillance room."

"And the odd neuroimage readings?" It was Demikhov.

"Keep an eye on it until we can come up with something conclusive," she said.

"I thought it was pretty conclusive." Demikhov stared at Susan. "The girl and that Internecivus raptus, X349, shared almost the same brainwave."

Susan felt all eyes on her. Though she wanted to snort it off and say scientists don't rely on wild imagination, she knew she couldn't ignore her own niggling instincts and glaring data.

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.s.

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Sealink woke to a pounding in her head and knew she had been drugged. She slowly rose into a sitting position. She was in her room on her bed, as if she had fallen asleep and woken up there. She was no fool. The humans were suspicious of something. Perhaps, like the wild canine of the forest, humans could sense when one wasn't quite like them, and destroy it.

I need to hurry, she thought. Time was drawing near. She concentrated on producing another implanter. It would take a few hours, which passed with bone-numbing boredom. Sealink found herself pacing, just as she had done in captivity among the yautja. Soon the tap-tap of the child tickled the soft lining of her throat. As she had done with the first, she throttled the seed's sentience within the implanter. She vomited it, and slipped it in her pocket. It was simple business to drag up the chair and release the child through the air vent.

"Go," she murmured.

She had just barely put the chair back when the door opened. Sealink snapped her head up and instantly narrowed her eyes in displeasure. She curled her lip as the brothers entered. The more serious one of the two leveled his gun at her and, in clear gestures, motioned her to the corner of the room. Sealink remained where she was. The guard's eyes narrowed, a frown marring the smooth features of his face.

He made the gun click and took out what was inside the chamber. It was ferocious needle, similar in shade and size to something Dauncha would've owned. On the end was a bright red pompom. The guard held it up to her. Sealink eyed the razor point. The brother, after another moment, refitted the dart and leveled the muzzle at her. The other brother rumbled in obvious laughter and directed something at his kin. The other didn't respond but maintained eye contact with Sealink. She knew she didn't want that needle and whatever-was-in-it near her and, nursing her pride, went to the corner indicated. The other brother continued to chuckle and said something. At last the other replied, his words short.

Sealink watched as the insolent one took the chair she had used to reach the air duct and did exactly the same thing. He then shined a light through the grating and peered in.

Sealink felt alternatively hot and cold. How could they've possibly known? She had been alone! Unless . . . She didn't look at the black screen, the device the same colour as a human's pupil. Her actions had never been secret to being with. Too late, she thought, her heart sick in her chest. She felt faint. I've started your destruction. It'll only be a matter of time. She kept her chin high as the guard descended from the chair, obviously empty-handed.

He chattered something in a tiny wire, then rumbled something at his brother. Then they left Sealink alone, but not alone. Her heart refused to slow. Every movement and gesture felt watched, as if she were a bug for the humans to watch. Or a Xenomorph, a creature to be feared and observed. A ferocious grin spread across her face. Good. I'm glad they didn't accept me, she thought. They sensed something was different. It's solid proof I never or ever will be fully human. She braced her shoulders and lowered her head. Let them come.

.

.s.

.

Susan Whiteread regretted her decision to become a Company scientist simply for the fact the coffee sucked. She grimaced the oil down, wondering why for the hundredth time she swopped her cushy but mundane job back on Earth for this one of adventure, danger, and bad coffee. Now here she was, digging into Company photos of dead or missing colonists. She had been doing it for two hours now.

The mess hall, a surprisingly good place to do work, was about as dead as her coffee's flavor. Being on the upper level of the colony meant less people, but Susan didn't mind the stillness. It reminded her of the youth in the Midwest, when all around her would be swaying stalks of corn for miles and miles. Feeling alone sometimes was healthy, she thought. But being this tired wasn't.

She didn't know why the appearance of this girl made her this worked up. Perhaps it was the ominous feeling she had for her. Perhaps it was the possibility of a breakthrough with X349. Or perhaps she wanted to understand this strange, foreign girl, from one human being to another. There were so few humans in the universe. What were the odds this one would land on her doorstep millions of miles away from Earth?

Susan was about to call it a night—or morning, as her watch informed her, when a picture caught her eye. It had been on the bottom of her pile, and an accidental brush of the arm exposed it. Susan picked it up. It was a normal, cut-and-dry Company employee shot, but the facial structure was so familiar Susan thought she had met her a few hours before. Spitting image, she thought faintly. The hair was blonde in the picture, but perhaps the woman's hair was dyed. In a blur of activity she searched for the second accompanying photo. Then she found it. There was no doubt in her mind it was the mysterious girl's father. I see where she gets that chin, Susan thought. She felt as if she had run and won a marathon. A stupid grin sprawled over her face. Paper-clipping the two and discarding the rest, she prepared to stand.

She never saw the creature from above.

.

.s.

.

Sealink at the first turn of the doorknob stood up. The woman—the same one from the first encounter, smiled at her from the doorway. Her face was paler than usual and her hair mussed, but she still beckoned at Sealink with her usual vitality. Sealink let out a silent breath of air. She had fully expected twenty guards and their guns. Of course they won't mess up a clean room, she thought. They'll kill me where they normally kill enemies. Taking another deep breath, she followed the woman out and tried not to grimace at her least favorite guards. One winked at her.

The woman wasn't wearing her white coat. For some reason that struck Sealink as odd and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. When the woman led her into an unfamiliar room, Sealink was nearly bristling with wariness. The smell of food doubled her distrust. But no bloody floors, no rows of guards and their guns. It was just a long room with many gray tables, the ceiling low.

The woman glanced over and, without thinking, touched Sealink's arm. Sealink froze. She looked down at the hand on her bare shoulder. The touch was warm. The skin of the palm was slightly callused. Sealink could see the indents of the knuckle joints, the tiny pores, the minute crisscrossing of wrinkles, so different yet so familiar. The moment lasted for only a moment. The woman withdrew as if bit, checks flushing, leaving Sealink standing frozen with a mark of fading warmth on her shoulder.

The woman moved away, heading towards a table with a single tan rectangle on the entire gray length. A deliberate cough from one of the brothers woke Sealink with a start. She quickly went to where the woman sat and copied her. A foot existed between them. The woman opened the tan rectangle and took two smaller, white sheets. She slid them in front of the girl.

At first Sealink stared at them without seeing. There were small scribbles and lines throughout them, which Sealink ignored. But something else arrested her attention. I'm looking at a reflection, she thought. She bent her face down to get a closer looker. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the woman wincing and rubbing her chest.

The face staring back at her from the table recaptured her attention. It was Sealink but not Sealink, the features in the black and white reflection just wrong enough to assure Sealink it wasn't herself staring back. In the other reflection it was a little less, but still there. But the similarities were too hard to ignore. With quiet fingers she brushed the woman's face on the sheet, an odd lump in her throat.

A wet, gasping sound pulled Sealink away and she looked up in time to get a face-full of blood over her. The woman's dying shriek mingled with the squealing cries of the newborn Xenomorph. It poked out between the ribs not five inches away from Sealink, its flesh a mucus yellow, its teeth blunt. It squealed and wriggled to get free from its traumatic womb.

Sealink leap over the table as shouts filled the room. She dashed toward a set of doors as cries and explosive chatter rippled from the guns. She bolted through the double doors just as the gunfire grew deafeningly quiet. The sound of thundering footsteps urged Sealink on. A shot of adrenaline shivered through her as, unheeding of the startled cry of a worker human, she pulled out a knife from a wooden box. She crouched down as the doors swung open. The guard took a step in before Sealink plunged the knife to the hilt in his thigh.

The brother howled in pain. He fell backwards, clutching his leg, blood bubbling out and soaking his hands. Sealink darted past and almost ran into the second brother. Only years of constant habit and ingrained instincts allowed Sealink to twist out of reach. She backed away, staring at the brother who wore a thunderous expression on his face. He shouted something at his kin, who roared back.

Sealink started running, only to find herself out-paced. She dropped to her stomach to avoid a whistling blow overhead. She was back in the gladiatorial fights. Every sound amplified, every move slow. She twisted and lashed a foot. She felt the connection of her foot and his knee vibrate through her. The leg buckled and Sealink rolled to avoid another grab. She hissed at him. The man rolled as well and mirrored her crouched stance. The look reminded her of the yautja Ra'ka's, just before he beat her until unconsciousness. She felt herself coiling. She knew there was no chance of her outrunning him. She lifted her chin in frenzy. At least I gave my child a chance, she thought. I won't go down quietly.

She launched herself at him, arms outstretched. Within moments she met iron force. She found one of her wrists locked in the vice-like grip. Sealink snarled, wriggling to get free. Something silver flashed. A cold band wrapped around her wrist where the hand was. She took a moment to stare, uncomprehending. Then she saw the chain, and understood. She darted in and bit the fleshy web between his thumb and forefinger.

She bit with all of her strength and heard her enemy bark with pain. A stunning clout had her reeling back, but only for a moment before, pain-maddened, Sealink went for his eyes with clawed hands. She drew bloody lines in his face. Her world became dark as he threw his jacket over her head. She gave a Xenomorph scream when she found herself unable to move as his body crushed her to the ground. She lashed and kicked without focus, but the superior weight was relentless. Her other hand was caught in a bruising pressure and forced behind her back. By now Sealink was heaving for fresh oxygen. Her struggles lessened. Never, not even amongst the yautja, had she hated her human body as she did now.

The jacket lifted away. Sealink glared murder at him.

"Damn you," she said. Then a prick of pain, and all went dark.

.

.s.

.

Sealink groaned, rolled onto her side and vomited the little in her stomach. She remained there, hovering over the pile of sick, eyes squeezed shut against the glaring lights. Her head felt as if a yautja's blade was lodged inside it. Eventually she felt stable enough to sit back. The floor was smooth beneath her and the wall, cold. She cracked an eye open, then wished she didn't. Instantly she was transported back in the Dauncha's cell and walls of glass. Even the size was reminiscent of the cell she slept in.

She wiped the sick from her mouth and spat off to the side. She still had tried blood splashed on her face and clothes. An experimental scratch did nothing to remove the stains. She sucked on her teeth, forcing herself to think. I'm still alive. If they wanted to kill me, they would've. I'm alive for a reason. She brooded. Her head was clearing and her future was becoming more and more ominous. Among the yautja, their intentions were clear. The humans . . .

She closed her eyes.

Damon? Damon, can you hear me?

The silence of her mind seemed so empty in the bare moments she strained for an answer.

Sealink?

Sealink honed onto the bright star that was the Xenomorph King. Damon. Thank the All Mother. I thought I couldn't reach you.

Where are you? It was truly Damon, his voice rich and sonorous. It was sharp with tension.

The humans captured me. I'm in one of their cells.

The silence stretched. Sealink waited, miserable. She brought her essence close to his and let him envelop her in the warmth of his being. She was back to her capture during the last month, seeking solace when their physical bodies were apart. She basked in his familiarity.

I'll think of a way to get you out, Sealink, Damon said.

Don't. Don't risk yourself. Your priority is the survival of the Hive, Sealink said.

Damon's growl rumbled all around her. If you think I'll give up on you—

Her instincts screamed at her danger and she snapped her eyes open. A row of white-coated humans stared through the glass. She rose slowly to her feet.

They were four of them, all males, all varying ages. She recognized two of them, one from the first encounter, and second the same one who gave her the poisoned food. His pale eyes regarded her without spark. They reminded her of the peeled ones of the old yautja Te-kn'ha, and in that instant hated him more than the two brothers. She wanted to rip his mouth off and feed him his tongue.

Sealink turned away and sat in the far corner. Inside her heart she couldn't ignore the shiver of dread. If time with the yautja changed her for the worse, what would the humans do?

Outside the glass Leftwich stared at the reason Susan was dead. He glanced over. He knew the arrival of Yeoman, Chief Scientist to the Brigadier General meant the military had taken interest. Leftwich didn't like the man. He once saw Yeoman feed a poison cube to a dog simply to test the potency. His pale gaze had watched everything. From then on he avoided the CS, not that it really mattered. Their circles hardly crossed. Until now.

"When did she appear?" Yeoman asked.

"Three days," Leftwich said, when none of the other two would speak up.

Yeoman hm'd. Leftwich would've felt sorry for the strange girl, had it not been Susan's blood staining her face and clothes.

"If you need help with anything," Leftwich said to Yeoman, "let me know. I've been around the girl. She trusts me." This wasn't true. He saw her maybe twice. Susan was the one who had forged a connection, and had died because of it. He hoped Yeoman didn't know that. All his worries of being caught lying were for naught as the advisor nodded.

"Good, good. It would make the process easier . . ." The CS trailed off.

"Dr. Robin Leftwich, access level C."

Yeoman's mouth twitched. "Leftwich. Walk with me."

.

.s.

.

Darkness. Some place confined. Cool fingers tested the strength of the metal. Sealink turned her head and tasted the air and found it metallic. She wrinkled her black lips and hissed quietly. In her gray vision of sound and distances she saw two other humans searching for their missing comrade, the same one who covered her maw in warm blood. She messaged the essence entwined with hers. Kill, she said. She felt the body around her tense and coil.

Sealink opened her eyes and lifted them to the empty walls of the cell. She didn't know how long she'd been here, the passage of time was faceless. She lost count of how many times she fell hungry and was satisfied. There were no air ducts or any place accessible. Any form of escape she saw was through a slit in the front glass wall, which men in gray handed her colourless, tasteless mush. Each of the men had to enter with a small white card, and never once offered Sealink an opportunity. She had no other choice but to wait and hope a human would eventually make a mistake. She waited for what the humans would do to her. She had no illusions it would be unpleasant. She was responsible for at least one death. She should've been killed by now.

A flicker of movement in her peripheral vision turned her head. She recognized the man. He had been with the woman at her first inoculation. The white coat was absent. His hands were empty. He crouched at the glass wall, eyes hidden behind reflective glasses on his face. At first Sealink ignored him. He wasn't the one who brought her food. What was his purpose?

At last curiosity began to gnaw on her. As the man continued to remain in the crouched position, not moving, not making any chatter sounds. Images of the yautja child during her capture simmered in her mind. Maybe he's just curious, she thought. It would make sense. She herself was subjugated to the unshakable urge to know. The woman's touch on her shoulder before she died conflicted her. Before I die, she thought, maybe I can learn a little bit about my human side. What would it hurt?

At last Sealink looked over at the man. She hadn't fully noticed him before. He was younger than she had first thought, his hair dark brown. The great vein in his neck pulsed in a steady beat. She saw his expression flit briefly across his face before falling back to careful neutrality. She walked to the glass wall. She was so close her breath fogged the glass. She saw his throat work.

The moment lasted a moment longer when the man pulled something from one of his pockets. It was long and white. Sealink watched as he pushed it through the feeding slot. Sealink took it. It crinkled in her hands. A fold appeared. The young woman peeled back the white wrapping and found the inner layer a dark brown.

She glanced at the man, who nodded his head in encouragement. Sealink stared at him hard. The throat worked again, but he didn't look away. Sealink sniffed at the bar, and pulled back at the strangely pleasing aroma. She took a bite and gasped at the sweetness. The rest of the bar disappeared quickly and soon Sealink was licking her fingers, looking for more. The man smiled. The sweetness lingered on her lips as she found herself matching his smile.

.

.s.

.

The man visited often, and Sealink found herself looking forward to it, if only to break the monotony. The dark bar of sweetness was first of many small, delightful gifts. There were other foods, sizzling with spices, creamy in flavor, that had Sealink mewing in delight. Several times he brought her liquid colours in jars, which had her puzzled at first. When he showed her how to use them, Sealink still wondered what was the point. One time he brought her a live animal, a baby from its development. It was a cat, but none of the wild ones she had seen. It was bright orange and mewed as it clambered over her arms.

One visit the man brought a needle. Sealink wouldn't come to the flap. The man brought out a bar of sweet and held it to her. Sealink stared at the man coolly. Did he think she was some animal to be trained? Her brow furrowed. Was all the niceness been nothing but a ploy to get her trust? Sealink was surprised at the dull pressure of betrayal.

But even as she bared her teeth like a Xenomorph, a nagging feeling slipped through her mind. Why act so stubborn? With the yautja, she would've been beaten senseless if she disobeyed. Should she bite the hand that fed her? So far she hadn't been harmed. Why not listen to the small request? Then a thought slipped in her mind, and suddenly her way free became clear. So, want to use my trust? All right. This can go both ways, she thought. You'll find you're not the only one good at deceit.

With infinitesimal slowness, Sealink slunk to the flap. The man held himself still as she slid her arm through the opening. His gaze met hers, and when she didn't look away, he placed the silver needle to her blue vein and let it bite her.

.

.s.

.

A gout of blood splashed the walls. She could hear someone screaming, and reached with her claws to tear the throat out. Another wave of high-pressurized blood splattered across her mouth in a warm torrent. The screams echoed off the walls and died. The clomping of more footsteps signaled the approach of more prey. She peeled black lips from silver teeth and hissed in the darkness. Her side ached from where one of the humans' bullets punched through her chitin. Her acidic blood oozed off her exoskeleton and hissed whenever it hit the ground. She hunkered down, using the deep shadows as cover. The humans were coming closer, closer—

Sealink shook herself awake. The man was there, dressed in white. With him were four other humans, guards. Sealink hid her rising heartbeat behind a placid mask of trust as she recognized one of them as one of the brothers. He was the one who had tricked and captured her.

Next time, I'll kill you, Sealink promised herself as the man beckoned her towards the front door. Sealink did as she was told as the glass door slid wide. She walked through at the man's encouragement. The click of the guns cracked over the quiet. The man offered the young woman a half-smile and a shrug. Sealink smiled back.

The man led Sealink down the corridor, away from the infernal cage. The four guards flanked her, leaving her no option of space in case she wanted to break free. She could feel the sizzle of the brother's stare on the back of her neck the entire way. Her bare feet slapped against the metal grating of the floor as the man led her into a large, white room. Another one of the black screens adorned the nearest wall. Sealink pretended to ignore its black, unblinking gaze. Another glass wall, darkened, filled the far end. The guards spread out, two covering the only exit from the room, while the other two flanked the walls.

The man beckoned Sealink over to a white table. On it were strange little things, like white circles connected with a series of clear tubes to a boxy machine. These the man picked up and, after another tight smile, he placed on her forehead. One other he placed just above her heart. Sealink shook off the shudder of revulsion at the suction-cup sensations.

The man beckoned her towards the darkened glass. She noticed the sudden shine of sweat on his brow. The guards themselves held themselves were as expressive as wood posts, except the brother. His gaze never left her. Sealink resisted the urge to bare her teeth at him and hiss.

Sealink turned her head in time to see the lights suddenly flood the once-dark section. Her eyes widened and she was leaping back before her mind could comprehend what she was doing, her battle instincts taking over as the black shape collided against the glass. She crouched, awed, as a scream echoed throughout the room. The encaged Xenomorph scrabbled at the surface of its cage, ropes of saliva splattering over the glass. It threw itself over and over, the struts holding the wall shuddering with each collision.

Sealink held a hand over her mouth as she slowly rose to her feet. The Xenomorph was a haggard, wasted sight. Its black armor was dull and flaked at the edges. Its claws were blunt and broken, its teeth yellow. Even the knife-like ending on its tail was broken and bent. It walked with a prominent limp and a sway in its shambling. By its sheer size, it was a praetorian, mad and hateful beyond recognition.

Sealink watched it circle without pattern, its pacing eerily reminiscent of her own particular inability to sit still while caged. What could drive this being to such madness? As the young woman stared at the restless, compulsive behavior, she understood, and learned this praetorian hadn't been captured recently. How long have you been prisoner? she thought as she drew closer to the wall. She saw her future, should she remain captive. The praetorian hissed and warbled, drool running like water from its yellowed maw. Its agitated jerks began to quiet.

Sealink felt herself moving closer, until her nose touched the cold glass. Her breath fogged the surface. She could feel the praetorian's attention like a freezing weight. All other sensations faded away until her universe consisted of herself and it. She placed a hand on the glass. Her breathing slowed. Her eyes widened. Then closed.

She touched minds.

Sealink gasped at the very agony. She was doused in a stream of freezing water, or a pit of a thousand knives. There was no order, no pattern, just one wave of agony after another. As she tore away she heard the remnants of a final thought, the echo of one last order:

Kill.

Sealink snapped out of her mind and found herself on her back, staring at the white ceiling. The Xenomorph was screeing, but to her it sounded like weeping. The man was hovering over her, mouth moving, but all she heard was the resounding Xenomorph cry.

.

.s.

.

Yeoman didn't look at Leftwich as the man walked in the cinderblock office and said, "That was quite a connection the two of them shared."

Leftwich coughed. "How did—?"

"Please. You think I wasn't there? I wouldn't have missed it for the world." The pale eyes gleamed. "The girl trusts you, I see. Your words were true."

"Of course," Leftwich said.

Yeoman smiled, a dry, cracked smile that had the younger man wish he wasn't alone. He coughed again and tried to avoid picking at his tightening collar. It had been a fluke that the girl decided to trust him, and though he kept giving her chocolate and kittens, he still sensed not all of the girl trusted him. It had surprised him she allowed him to draw her blood willingly, after the reaction he remembered Susan telling him. His heart clenched at the thought of his dead friend. He gritted his teeth. They could've been more. He was sure of it. If only that stupid whore from the woods hadn't killed her, he may've had a good thing with Susan.

"Think about the implications," Yeoman was saying. "A human—yes, we know she's human—able to communicate with the devil."

"She seemed hurt."

Yeoman waved a hand. "Immaterial. All what matters is that the neuroimages, at the exact moment of contact, were identical."

Leftwich licked dry lips. "I'm assuming you want to communicate with X349, sir?"

The CS leveled a look that had the younger man redden.

"Communicate? To what end? Use your head, Leftwich. The dear General wants us to find ways on how to control them, not how to communicate with Internecivus raptus. What would be the use? To find out they have rights and feelings?" Yeoman tch'd. "No. We won't communicate with the devils. They're machines, biomechanical creatures of perfection, built to destroy. We'll find out how the girl gets in contact with them easily. We have all the neuroimages that we need."

Leftwich cleared his throat. "And how, sir, do we plan on learning how the girl does what she does?"

Yeoman glanced at Leftwich and shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? We cut her brain open."

.

.s.

.

Sealink stood in front of the insane praetorian, rubbing her mouth slowly with one hand. The praetorian hissed through the glass, thick and sibilant. At the indiscernible cue, Sealink began to walk in one direction. The Xenomorph followed, the gray shoulder struts swaying as it matched her pace. When they reached the end of the wall Sealink turned and together they made their slow way to the other end, each their heads turned to the other. All the while, the young woman thought of how she could use this to her advantage.

She was still reeling from the fact she could make contact with Xenomorph outside her own Hive. She also reeled from the amount of pain their brief connections caused her. It was if her forehead was immersed in a tub of iced water, the freezing pressure enough to make her eyes explode. Over the past couple of visits, for there had been several, Sealink felt she was developing a rhythm of coping with the praetorian.

She glanced askew at the man in the white coat. His eyes were on the machine she was attached to, on his white rectangle. Soon, she decided, it would all end. Her two sons were already wracking up a count of bodies. Every time she slipped into their essences she felt them gorged on the bodies they had fed upon. The wounds they received from the guns were more numerous, but not fatal yet. They still could take down more humans. Surely by now they've put a dent in the human population. Should Damon and the Hive be forced to attack, the odds would be more level.

She steeled herself, then closed her eyes. The band of cold tightened around her forehead. She controlled her breathing. I am Queen. Who are you?

The essence writhed like a worm at the end of a hook. Praetorian.

When were you captured?

Praetorian.

You're not alone anymore. Report what you know.

Praetorian.

The Xenomorph twisted. Its essence was diseased. You've been alone for so long, she thought, more to herself than it, as it leaned into her presence as a starving dog does for affection. These humans did something to you. Did tests, used their needles and their gels. Mother warned me of this. She sobered. She doubted she could control the Xenomorph for long, not with the mental pain the connection inflicted. Could she even control it?

She dipped back into the icy void. The essence all around didn't fit like a glove but like a flaccid sack, frayed and worn to bare ligaments. It bucked and squirmed, but Sealink sunk her claws and wouldn't let go. She shivered under the freezing pressure. She saw her human body from the other side of the glass, eyes closed and chest rising in bare increments. The humans chattered without pause, huddling over the boxy machine. Sealink ignored all that. She forced the Xenomorph to look all around it. There were no discernible air ducts or places of escape. There was only the one food flap. It wouldn't fit even her neck through. She hissed in displeasure.

Sealink returned to her body, a tight, ringing pressure between her ears. She held a hand to her head and hissed for the pain of it. When the man went to her side, face overshadowed, she smiled at him. He didn't smile back. He began to pull the suction cups from her body.

Sealink let him, though wondered why he was frowning. He wouldn't look at her as he led her back to her cell. When she stepped through, he didn't give her the customary bar of sweet. Maybe he's growing tired of his game of Trust, Sealink thought. She shook away the diminishing pressure of betrayal. The time's drawing close. I need to escape from this place, if only to regroup with Damon to issue another attack. I will see the end of these creatures.

.

.s.

.

She was surrounded. She could sense her brother near her, sinking his tail in the soft jelly of the human's belly. Her own wounds shrieked fire from the human's guns. Blood sizzled as it struck the concrete below her fingers. It was hard to move her right side. Kill them all, she said, and the body around her tensed. There were more shouts coming. The air vents she had been using to move around were blocked; the only way to move was forward. She bared her teeth and hissed. Her brother lifted his head from the dismembered carcass and hissed back. The two of them were already launching themselves at the humans when they appeared through the hatch.

An explosive tatt-tatt-tatt punched through most of the wall and several in her chest. She screamed in pain, her cry mingling with the shrieks of agony under her rain of acidic blood. To safety! she said. Her brother was dead, shuddering under the death throes. She leapt past them and found herself in a hallway. Her gray vision told of a vast expanse in front of her.

She slowed down. It was hard to move. Her breath struggled to move in her throat. She slunk towards the ledge. She called again in echolocation, and screeched as the image became clear. She fell back in terror, despite the body twisting to meet the other humans running towards her. She turned to see a gun leveled at her before pain ripped through her.

Sealink gasped awake. She rolled onto her side and vomited everything in her stomach. Something clear dripped off her nose. She brushed her wet cheeks dry with the back of her hand and dry-heaved the remaining contents. She pressed her face to the cold glass, still gulping air, staring ahead.

She was too late, for she had seen what her son had before he died: the truth. The human settlement above ground made up but the smallest portion. The rest of the humans lived underground in one giant underground catacomb. From her height Sealink and echolocation vision she had seen the little shapes of the humans as they wandered about, walking about on the little catwalks and cement trails. It was too late. No Hive could conquer them, especially not her own. She began to chuckle and spat a bile-tasting wad of spit. Well, at least I found the secret I was looking for, she thought bitterly.

She hardly stirred when the door slid open. She glanced over and saw her customary man, with four other guards. She lifted her lip at the sixth human lurking in the background: it was the old human, his skin stretched tight over cadaverous cheekbones.

Sealink rose to her feet and refused to come nearer, despite the man's entreaties. She stared at the old man, hating him. She watched as he bared his white teeth in a smile and spoke words to the younger man. A decision seemed to be made, for the man stepped out of the cell and too the side. One of the guards—not the laconic brother, though he was there—went in. Sealink began to hiss as he leveled the gun at her. So, this is it, she thought. You're finished with me. She dodged in time to avoid a brightly-tufted pompom. She was already launching herself at the guard when he brought it up to arm again.

She tackled him with the force of a hundred thirty pounds. Both fell to the floor. Sealink tried to get up when an iron hand gripped her upper arm. It was the brother. The needle was in her flesh before she could snap his neck. She shook him off with a violent twist and lurched forward. She took two steps and keeled over, her legs dead for all they moved. She screamed and bit as the rest of her body refused to move.

Her head lolled as a human stuffed a gag in her mouth. She felt her body being lifted and placed on a cold steel board. Unable to turn her head, she stared at the ceiling. She heard the human boots clank against the metal grating that made the floor. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and cooled in sticky trails. It was too late to call for Damon. By the time he could find her, she would probably be already dead.

But not too late for another Xenomorph, she thought. She stopped trying to fight her paralyzed body and slumped. She closed her eyes.

The head-in-icewater sensation was back, but she grimaced through it. She forced herself to the glass wall. She brought her knife-tail up and held her own arm out. The essence writhed and fought, but Sealink's grip was too strong. As she brought the knife whistling down on her arm they both screamed in pain as the hand as dismembered from the arm.

Hissing blood spurted from the open wound and splashed all over the glass. Within seconds noxious fumes filled the room as the glass disintegrated. Humans were shouting, but Sealink paid them no heed. One opened fire with his gun, but Sealink forced the body into liquid swiftness. The human's head rolled off the shoulders and hit the floor with a meaty thud. Sealink began to run. Agony throbbed where her hand used to be.

She exploded into the room where her body was held captive. She laid there, comatose for all she moved, pale and white. All of the humans pulled away from her as Sealink screeched. She threw her stump in an arc and watched as droplets hit several humans. Screaming filled the room as bodies fell writhing on the floor. She slapped one gun away and crunched the man's skull between her diseased jaws.

She twisted and saw in her gray vision of sound the old man. She leered at him and strode up to his frozen form. For a moment they stared at each other. The man's lips moved to mouth a single word, his eyes wide, before Sealink stuck her stump in his face.

The man's face melted and ran like wax. When he fell, he didn't rise. Sealink stood over her enemy, salivating.

She had little time. She moved to where her body lay on the table, careful not to bring her wounds near it. She brought her muzzle down to inspect the slow rise and fall of the chest. As gently as a lioness with her cub, she cradled her limp body up. It hardly weighed in her arm. On hind legs, Sealink went to the air duct and tore off the grating. Then, with equal gentleness, she placed her body into the hole and slid it as far as it would go.

A single sound had Sealink whirling. She was ducking just as the rattle of gunfire exploded where she had once stood. Forcing the aged body forward, she backhanded the human. It sailed across the room and landed in a crumpled head. Sealink stomped towards it. By some miracle it was still alive, and had moved itself in a sitting position. Sealink stopped in front of it and stood, blood and slime dripping from her wounds.

It was the brother. He stared up at her, expression stone for all it showed. Blood dripped from a head wound. Sealink's black lips writhed in her smile as she, with her unblemished hand, reached down and picked him up by the front of his shirt. He dangled, feet unmoving, one hand on her arm. His touch was warm on her cool exoskeleton.

She hissed in his face. His expression didn't change, but his grip on her arm tightened. I'll kill you now, she thought, but as the moments ticked by, she continued to hold him. She bared her fangs. The man stared as if already dead, though the pounding vein in his neck ruining the illusion. She covered her teeth and, with slow movements, placed him back on the ground. His right leg crumbled but he remained upright, holding onto the wall for support. She backed away, head lowered, gurgling. The essence around her writhed and yearned towards the human, but she forced it still. She could hear the human's heartbeat slow from its panicked tempo. She didn't move when the other humans burst in the room and opened fired.

Sealink jerked awake in her own human body and stifled the scream of agony before it could rip free. She spent a moment curled in shivering pain as wave after wave of aftershock rolled over her. When she could at last move she peeked over the curve of her shoulder. Through the grating she saw the Xenomorph's nerveless hand twitch and grasp at nothing as its body shuddered into stillness. Acidic blood leaked from its muzzle and front of its skull.

Sealink began the slow, painful crawl deep into the air ducts. Soon she was stumbling in the dark, the metallic ring of her knees hitting the surface. Several times she stopped to dry-retch. Her vision swam. Have to find a way out, she thought. Need to get to Damon. But it would do little good calling for the Xenomorph King's aid. Possessing the mad praetorian's body took more out of her than she thought. She kept following the air duct, hopefully in the direction of the forest. Crawling on her knees and elbows, Sealink made her way through, listening to the sounds coming up from lighted sections below her. When at last she found a grating that lead out, she punched through it and slipped down.

The young woman slunk along the halls, each way identical to each other. Every time she saw a person she hid behind a door or a indent in the wall. Her heart hammered in her chest. She wished for a weapon, something, anything. Sweat dripped into her eyes and down her neck in oily trails. Noises made her twitch and crouch. Several times she thought herself seen and braced herself for cries of alarm. But each time passed without discovery, and Sealink moved on. It wasn't until the clud clud clud of guards' footsteps did Sealink began to whirl around for a place to escape. Two expanses of white walls stretched before her, not an air duct in sight. She crouched in the hallway, baring her teeth, muscles coiling.

A hand fell on her shoulder. Sealink jumped. She recognized the man who gave her sweet things. He put a hand to his lips and made a sharp shh noise. Sealink quieted. She rose from her crouch, eying him. The man's hair was disheveled. Sweat shone off his forehead. He made come, hurry motions with his hands. Sealink found her feet moving after him as he led her into an unseen niche in the wall. With her at his back he stood in the gap. Sealink crouched by his feet and glanced out between the spaces and shrunk away as the guards went by. A moment passed, then another. At last they were alone. The man moved away. Sealink climbed to her feet and looked down the corridor. Its emptiness yawned.

She turned slowly to the man. She could smell his sweat. He leaned in. His face was gentle, his mouth soft. Her gaze darted and her throat worked. It wasn't until the glint of the silver needle did her instincts scream. His hand reached out and caught her upper arm in its vice-like grip. Sealink's eyes widened and she fell back with a startled cry.

The two of them fell to the floor. As he straddled her chest and forced her arms above her head she began to screech. The man grinned down at her, wolflike. The needle in his free hand glinted with death as he brought it down to the tender underside of her arm. As she stared at him to spit, a black shade flew over her and crashed into the man. Sealink stared as Zizar rolled the man onto back and ripped his stomach open. The man's shrill cries echoed up and down the halls. Even when the cries fell away Zizar continued to maul and tear.

Sealink stumbled to her feet. "Zizar!"

Zizar jerked away from the body. A bit of purple intestine hung from a jaw. He was large, nearly as large as Kaylon, his shoulder struts bristling. His exoskeleton gleamed dark against the starkness of the human stone. Sealink wanted to laugh and cry. Her mouth split wide as the praetorian crawled towards her. Sealink caught up his head in her arms and embraced as hard as she could. His cold carapace was tacky with blood. When she pulled away, blood covered her front.

"Zizar, how—"

Are you hurt? Did that beast hurt you?

Sealink shook her head. "No. You killed him in time."

Good, the Xenomorph said. His voice rung with pride. Now we go. We have to rendezvous with Kaylon.

A movement flickered over the praetorian's shoulder. "Zizar, behind you!"

The young praetorian turned. A figure stepped out through a door, its weapon out in front of it. Sealink's eyes widened. It was a young human male, its mouth drawn back in a fierce grimace. Zizar snarled. Bracing his rear legs, the praetorian lurched forward.

"Zizar, no—!"

She heard the explosion before she saw it. Zizar's head snapped back as a chunk of slick, hard carapace blew away. A gout of acidic blood spurted on the walls and floor, sizzling away the stones into diseased shapes. The praetorian slammed to his side and lay on the ground, stunned. Sealink stared, open mouthed. She watched, dumbfounded, as Zizar pitched to his feet, half of his face blown off. He tried to hiss but it came out bubbly and broken. It rose into such a terrible cry Sealink clapped her hands to her ears. The banshee cry rose higher and higher until the praetorian suddenly cut his body up an air vent and left her and the boy alone. The girl reeled.

"What have you done?" Sealink lurched forward. The young human continued to stare at Sealink, face confused. He slowly brought up his gun. Sealink held her arms out, curling her lip, spitting curses. But just as the boy went to take a step Kaylon appeared. The great tail slashed, slicing him down the middle. The human toppled over, the hot jelly of his organs gushing everywhere. Sealink watched everything as if from above her body. She didn't move as Kaylon rushed toward her.

Queen, are you hurt?

For the second time in five minutes, Sealink shook her head. "No," she croaked.

Zizar will follow upward to the surface, he said. Quickly, on my back.

Sealink steeled her heart and wiped her face with the back of her hand. With a little jump she climbed on the Xenomorph's back and straddle him right between his four shoulder spikes. Without another word Kaylon leapt over the cooling remains of the boy. Sealink huddled close to the praetorian's slick exoskeleton as they clambered up the air duct. The black of the tunnel compressed down all around her and she shut her eyes tight, allowing Kaylon the decisions of escape. At one point the thuwmp-thuwmp-thwump of a fan could be heard, but she felt Kaylon move on, and the sound soon became nothing but a dream.

.

.s.

.

A young woman stood in a wide, empty clearing. She was naked, her body covered in white scars. She was unremarkable to look at, neither short nor tall, her dark eyes elsewhere as she stared off. Her hair stirred in a breeze before falling again on her bare shoulders. Her name was Sealink. Her eyes and hair were as black as a Queen's comb, her stare as faraway as a monarch's. Several shadows moved from the spaces between the trees and into the cool warmth of the autumn day. Some of the trees' leaves had already begun their seasonal show of colours. Soon bright reds and oranges would deck the landscape. Even the air began to take on the spicy smell of dying leaves.

This is a beautiful area, the young woman thought. It stayed with her as the black cadaverous creatures formed a semi-circle around her. As the sat as still as statues, she could sense their coiling anticipation.

She cleared her throat in an already silent clearing. "I went in the human settlement," she said. She looked at each of them. "There is no hope for us. We must leave this planet."

At this Zaphara, the senior drone, hissed. But how? We already thought about leaving this place but disregarded it.

"Not just leave here, Zaphara. Leave entirely," Sealink replied.

How, Queen? We ourselves do not possess any human crafts of such ability, Kaylon said.

We don't. But the yautja do, Damon rumbled. He bared his massive teeth. Sunlight glinted off his carapace in blue waves. How could we forget about the fateful capture four years past and our return in the yautja craft?

"We bring our Hive into the ship and leave here for good. Take provisions what we can. As soon as possible. Then leave," Sealink said.

What about the humans, Queen? pointed again Kaylon, shifting his weight on his haunches.

Sealink looked at each of them and took a deep breath. She shook her head and hissed. "Let the humans have this planet—for help or harm, they are the rulers of it now. We must make our way through the stars, and hope for safe passage. Zaphara: you will be in charge of collecting provisions. Have the drones hunt when can be hunted. Kaylon: when they're done make sure they all make it to the ship. Damon will show you the way."

The Xenomorph shifted and hissed, but all bowed their elongated skulls. Saliva dripped from open maws, and all Sealink could think about was rain.

She watched as all left as silently as they came, their shoulder struts swaying with their gaits. She knew all of them by heart, and felt her own tighten as she noticed one of them absent. Zizar, she thought. She didn't look up as Damon's shadow fell across her. His cold breath fanned her face as he sucked in air and exhaled dust. She reached up and touched the exposed ligaments, so familiar in her hand.

So exile is ours, Damon said. Spoken like a true Queen.

She grunted. "Do you know how long it's been since I've wanted to hear that, Damon?"

You just weren't able to hear it, Damon said.

Sealink moved back in the sun. Her legs began the first motions of pacing before she jerked to a stop, shuddering. She ran a shaky hand through her hair and shook herself. When she spoke again her voice soft, as if to herself. "It was ugly in there, Damon. At first I thought it was good, but everything wasn't as they seemed. Their kindness was double-edged. What was sweet . . ." She touched her lips and shook herself. She grunted. "I've spent too much time with them. It's nothing. I'll just forget about it—"

You will never forget. Damon rose above her, a looming black presence. His horns blotted out the sun. Just as your capture with the yautja shaped you who are, your time with your flesh-kin will remain forever.

Sealink said nothing.

Damon moved closer. You should go see Zizar.

Sealink's heart squeezed. "How bad?" she said at last.

Bad.

Sealink nodded, as if to herself, lost in thought and quiet. Damon didn't break it, and King and Queen watched out across the clearing to what had been the Hive's home for months. The crystal waters rippled. Its slightly fishy scent lingered on the wind. This was a good world, she suddenly thought. Her birthmother, the same one from the photo she saw, once lived amongst these trees. My true mother, Sealink thought, and found herself shifting, restless.

She grew up here, along with the colony of humans, before the Xenomorph took her as their own. Should she tell Damon about it? She decided it was a secret too precious to give up. She would bury the knowledge, but never forget. She thought of the woman who died, who alone had shown her true altruism. She bared her teeth.

"I'll meet up with you," she said.

Damon clacked his jaws. Know the way?

"I'll find it."

Very well.

The Xenomorph King, perhaps the only of his kind, padded away, body swinging with each step. Sealink watched him leave, unable to quell the tiniest twinge of envy. When he was gone she moved towards the woods, and was soon engulfed. Sunlight streamed down between the branches above her. Chickadees darted and sang, invisible. The fresh smell of forest loam was thick in her nose, but not thick enough to hide the sharp tang of acidic blood.

She pushed away the layers of bushes and her breath felt knocked out of her as she gazed upon her friend.

"Oh, Zizar."

Infection had settled in and begun to swell inside the hard carapace. Acidic blood continued to leak out of the half-mashed face into the young warrior's jaw and into his mouth. It smelt bland and yellow, like the horrific suppurating wound. Zizar twitched as minute spasms gripped him. He moaned through his clenched teeth, a low and hissing sound. He looked around blindly at the hushed sound of his name.

He can't see, Sealink thought. She had to swallow the thick lump in her throat as she saw Zizar try to stand. His hind legs did little more than quiver. The image of the late Queen, bloated with disease and wasting away, rose to her mind. Must she always be at the final moments? Damon sees me as a survivor, she thought, but what's the point when all of my family dies?

Se? Is that you? Zizar asked. He turned his terrible face. Sealink jerked at her pet name, the name Zizar never managed to shake off.

"I'm here, Zizar," she said as she knelt down in front of the Xenomorph, not risking burning off her hand with so much putrid acidic blood. She looked away for a moment.

Did I fight well? he asked. Drool leaked from his mouth. A slick puddle surrounded him.

"Yes. Like a true praetorian," she said. "You saved my life. I should be in your position now, or dead already. Kaylon's so proud of you, Zizar. He said he could've done no better." Her voice broke at the end and she had to swallow tightly.

I hurt all over. He paused, one of his hind legs shaking. His breath began to wheeze between his teeth. I couldn't kill the human.

"Enough of that, Zizar. You should, you should rest now."

Yes. Rest. Zizar struggled to get up. Sealink continued to watch over her friend, still too numb to cry.

Se?

Her mouth twitched. "You still call me that?"

Always, murmured Zizar as he settled his head in the soft moss. You've always . . .

Then he died.

.

.

.

-fin-