Apologies for the very late chapter, but there was much writer's block to overcome, and many days spent feeling like a potato. Hopefully the next chapter won't take two months to get out, but for now, enjoy eleven thousand words of exposition (chapters will get more exciting soon, I promise).
His heart was racing, his breathing coming short as he kept his eyes clenched shut.
"Come on," he urged himself, his voice barely a whisper under his breath. "It's not that bad." A deep, shuddering inhale, and a whoosh of released air. He opened his eyes, and was met with the near-darkness. His nerves refused to settle despite how calm he willed himself to be. Thick, hard resin coated every surface in sight, bar a bed and set of closet doors. The solitary light fixture had been carelessly smeared over, likely on accident, meaning that its comforting rays were dimmed by the viscous, yet surprisingly-transparent substance.
He took slow, even breaths as he gazed around himself, trying to absorb the intricacies and swirling patterns which he had no clue as to whether they were intentional or not. Ripples which made the walls look like a frozen waterfall merged into swirls and spirals, spiny rib-like patterns and structures which were akin to fossils embedded into the walls.
Movement. In the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but gasp sharply and whip his head in its direction. Nothing in sight. Just the light playing tricks on him. A nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him no, that was never the case. That's just what they wanted you to think. A shiver ran down his spine, and he found himself with his eyes closed again. If anyone were to walk in on him, it would look like he was meditating as he sat cross-legged in the centre of the room, controlling his breathing and keeping his eyes shut to stave off the shadows which lurked in every corner, driving fear into even the most hardened of souls. "See?" he muttered to himself. "Fine. Everything's fine. Resin can't hurt you."
A few minutes passed, and he was suddenly aware that he probably should have opened his eyes by now for another try. It just felt so comforting having them closed, shutting off all the unsightly goo that had ruined or ended thousands, perhaps even millions, of lives. Maybe even more, nobody could be sure. A soft squelch demanded his attention, and his eyes snapped open once more, heart rate reaching a crescendo at the unexpected noise. He suppressed the urge to turn, and instead held a furious debate in his head, desperately trying to convince himself he hadn't heard anything. Another squelch, closer, behind him. It was counter-productive, but he squeezed his eyes shut again, before realising he couldn't deny the noise's existence anymore. A wave of hot air hit the back of his neck, and he leapt to his feet, backing up. A pitch black doorway met his gaze, but not another living creature could be seen.
He continued turning slowly, scanning the room – including the ceiling, unlike most other idiots who fell prey to deadly alien creatures – and jerked to a halt, his breath hitching. A human body, dangling limp, plastered to the wall by thick strips, hole punched straight through their chest. He tried to move away, to backpedal, to do anything except stare in horror, but found himself unable to move.
Literally. Panicking, he glanced around himself, desperately tugging at his feet as the resin seeped from the ground and encased his ankles, slowly creeping its way up his body. His gaze jerked towards the dark doorway as he suddenly felt an overpowering presence beyond it, in the all-encompassing darkness. He needed to run, he needed to get the hell out of here, but the resin kept crawling up his body, encasing him, stopping him from moving. The presence was getting closer, becoming more powerful, striking greater and greater fear into the human's mind. Just when it reached the doorway, barely out of sight, he woke up.
Jake bolted upright, drenched in sweat and shaking fearfully. He quickly brought his legs about himself and scrambled out the door, away from the suffocating atmosphere the resin brought. He leaned against the bedroom door, panting off the stress in the welcoming light of his living room. He must have fallen asleep while he was squeezing his eyes shut like a dumbass, he reasoned. And it was all because of those damned nightmares, keeping him up at night while his mind was vulnerable, lacking the security blanket of Advena's comforting presence.
He decided to have a shower, change into his PT uniform, and head down to the training arena to do some exercise. However, on his way out, he nabbed his phone and had a change of plans. Three new messages from an impatient Tyler awaited him.
0747
Tyler: Something came up, need to talk. Meet me at Carl's Café in the next fifteen minutes.
0811
Tyler: Hurry the hell up.
0820
Tyler: Fuck it. If you ever decide to get your lazy ass out of bed and do anything meaningful with your sad life, I'll be with Jeica, Bunker 03, Comms Centre.
Jake checked the time and cursed under his breath; that had been half an hour ago. He quickly changed into his armour and set a brisk pace through town, towards bunker three in an effort to catch his friends before they finished with whatever this important business was.
He quickly jogged down the bustling concrete underground halls, having to ask directions a couple of times on the way over, as nobody seemed to have an absolute idea where the comms room was. But despite all odds, he finally found the place, having to perform a double-take at the sloppily-written sign plastered to the door. It seemed this room had very recently been repurposed, which would explain why it was so hard to get directions to. Jake slipped inside, the door swishing aside almost silently, so quiet that the occupants of the room didn't notice his entry.
"I said one pin, Jeica. This is a nine pin."
"What the hell do you mean? They're all one pin!"
"Jeica, do you know what a pin is?"
"Yeah, it's the little sticky-outy thing on the end of the cable."
"What? No. No, that's the housing. The pins are inside. Turn the cable so you're looking into it. See the little metal prongs inside? Those are pins."
"Ohhh. Okay. I've got a six pin here."
"Then put it down for God's sake. I want a one pin." Jake stepped around a few metal shelving units, which consisted of four sleek steel poles supporting several sheets of thin metal as the shelves, allowing easy access to the messes of wires and electrical equipment stored upon them. They looked like server racks, if he had to guess, and they were in complete disarray.
"Okay, got a one pin here," Jeica reported. Jake spotted her holding out a lengthy cable to Tyler, who was lying on his back, upper half hidden from view by a cluttered desk with a small computer atop it. Coils of wires stuck out of the computer and spilled onto the floor, down where Tyler's head and hands were hard at work, appearing only to accept the offered cable before returning to the task at hand.
"Make sure to keep all the ones I'm plugging in aside; we don't want them to get mixed in with the spare stuff," Tyler advised her, voice slightly muffled by his position. He suddenly pushed himself out from underneath the desk with an "ugh" of disapproval. "No Sal. You're – stop! You're going to break something! Rotate the – okay, let me." Tyler blinked the disorientation from his eyes and suddenly noticed Jake's presence, staring at the duo in bemusement.
"Ah, hello Jacob. Had some trouble getting out of bed, did we?" Tyler asked in a strangely forced tone.
"About bloody time. Jesus, I thought you soldiers were supposed to be all prompt and timely and shit," Tyler grumbled telepathically. Noticing his confusion, 'Tyler' pointed towards the ceiling, where Sal was dangling haphazardly, one arm free in order to fuss with some wires which led into the roof, most likely through the ground beyond and onto the surface. With some trouble, Jake suddenly realised they had body-swapped. That would explain the strained way Tyler's body was speaking, as the Xeno probably wasn't fully confident with human vocal control.
"I wasn't sleeping," Jake argued. "I was busy. Uh, had a… 'job' to do… for a friend."
"Right, right. As you were then. Don't mind us, we're only fixing this colony's lack of basic encrypted communications. It's no wonder your soldiers abuse high-priority military equipment; there's no low-priority tech for the low-class to use. Pretty shitty thing to do, really. People want to talk to their families; tell them they're okay, but the only long-range communications are either a sure-fire way to get us found and killed due to vastly under-protected channels, or command priority lines. I swear, if I wasn't gay, people would be praising me as the second coming of Jesus; this trash heap of a colony is an absolute mess."
Sal's body paused for a second, running a critical eye over his handiwork. "Alright, done." And with barely a flutter of the eyelids to give it away, Tyler was back in his own body.
"How do you do that?" Jake demanded. "Switch so seamlessly, I mean. When Advena and I body-switch, we're stumbling around and almost collapsing."
"Maybe your stupidity clogs the link," Tyler quipped without missing a beat. Jake couldn't help but crack a grin, for once not frustrated with his friend's attitude; without his biting tone and snarky mannerisms, all that was left was friendly teasing, which was oddly comforting. Tyler's expression suddenly turned thoughtful as he picked up the 'one-pin' cable from the floor and plugged it into one of the server racks. Tinkering ensued, but that wasn't the cause for Tyler's wandering mind. "There's also some bad news, I'm afraid. Inevitable news, but frustrating, because there's a chance it could have been avoided, had a certain group of reckless rebels used a little foresight."
"Oh spare me the pleasantries," Jake drawled, rolling his eyes. Tyler cracked a small smirk despite the situation, cranking a wrench to secure the cable before speaking again.
"The Wey-Yu recovered Reveles Station's black box," he explained, still not taking his eyes off his machine as he took readings from its display. "I've been discreetly monitoring their chatter from my ship – er, house – computer, and they're well aware of your rebel status. No survivors, fortunately, so whatever data they could pull from the box and monthly reports are all they have. On another note, I've also been monitoring outbound chatter from the colony, and stumbled across something, uh, interesting."
Tyler finally paused in his work to make eye contact, letting his arms flop to his sides, spanner and all. "Someone used a secure military channel to post some porn on the web, and tried to cover it up. Poorly."
"Excuse me?" Jake guffawed.
"Yeah, and not just your average porn either. One of your soldiers filmed herself doing a Xeno. I could have easily sniped it down before it got a single view, but I hesitated. The Corporation already knows we're out here, and they already know the Advena Project was a success in all areas except candidacy, so it wasn't exactly harming us by being out there. So I left it, and man has it blown up in the past few hours."
"Blown up?" Jake repeated, demanding elaboration.
"Yeah, I went to show Jeica the video so she could identify the soldier, and between then and this morning, it's gone viral. Massive debates as to whether it's genuine or not, hippies resurfacing with their pro-interspecial spiel and lots of horny peeps touching themselves shamelessly. This could honestly help the Xenos, as unlikely as that seems. It'll certainly make people think twice."
"You probably should have sniped that video," Jake mused with a frown. "It's a small world here; soon everyone on the colony will know about her. She'll be humiliated." Tyler simply shrugged and turned back to his work, testing all the wires were properly secured so he could move on.
"The act is its own punishment. She knew what she was doing, she knows the risks – and let's not get into the fact that nobody here seems to want my help except for like, five or six people."
"And what about tracing?" Jake demanded. "Can't the Wey-Yu trace the video back to here?" Tyler waved him off.
"As I said, she used a military channel. The first thing I did coming here was check over the comms, and they are – surprisingly – up to par. Which means the only way we could be traced is by visual clues in the video itself, which I've already searched for. Jeica don't touch that!"
"You didn't plug it in properly!" Jeica protested.
"That's because we do that later. If we plug it in now, we could fry the system. I only put it there so we knew where it went." Jeica scoffed and carefully put the cable back where she'd found it, and Tyler gave a satisfied nod at his handiwork on the device he had been tinkering with. "That does it for basic functions. We just need to add in the encryption system, net capability, and then hook it up to the dish."
Jeica grunted as she hoisted herself up onto a sealed metal crate, undoubtedly full of parts they would need later, and took an uncomfortable seat upon it.
"While we're all here, and in good moods," Jeica began, shooting a glare at Tyler at the last part, "there's something I'd like to discuss. Our first mission as members of the Resistance."
"There's still much to do before we should even be considering that," Tyler pointed out sceptically, pulling a box off one of the shelving units and turning it over in his hands. "Not least of all the initiation."
"The initiation?" Jeica echoed with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah, every new member has to be screened, interviewed, tested then assigned to a faction. They're not really used to dealing with hundreds of new arrivals all at once, usually a dozen is about as high as it gets."
"That would take a very long time," Jake agreed, especially considering the limited amount of manpower the Resistance had at their disposal.
"What was that about factions?" Jeica demanded, rewinding them a bit, and ignoring Jake completely.
"Factions," Tyler stated. "They would be equivalent to… a company, or even a battalion, and are headed by lieutenants, because military ranking systems make some peoples' heads hurt. Silly really, if you ask me. You know they only have a select few ranks, right? They have private: your average grunt, corporal: leader of a fireteam, sergeant: leader of operations, lieutenant: leader of sergeants, and general: leader of lieutenants. Each lieutenant has a banner and faction name to identify them, and most privates have at least some say in which faction they join, as different lieutenants have different methods of leadership."
"Well, I gotta hand it to the Resistance; that's a lot more organised than most rebellions. It's probably how they've lasted so long," Jake commented. "Do ex-military members keep their ranks?"
"Do they!" Tyler scoffed. "Most get promoted to leadership roles, as even a private seems like a sergeant when pitted next to a farmer with a shotgun. I imagine the Resistance is beyond pleased with you lot arriving, with a decently-outfitted ship to boot, no less. And Jeica here is the nice, diamond-encrusted icing on the cake. High-ranking, special ops veteran soldier? It's Christmas come early for the Resistance."
"I take it not many soldiers sign up for the Resistance?" Jake hazarded, earning himself an eye roll from the scientist, as if that should have been blatantly obvious.
"Well, duh. People join the military to fight rebels, that's kind of the whole point of the military's existence right now. These people hate rebels so much they would put their life on the line to end them. The only reason you got so many people to follow you is because you weren't acting under a group; most of these people probably thought you were going to start your own thing, separate from the terrorists who plague our society or whatever. That and some of these people joined after I told them they could either do so or explode with their ship. That's not exactly an impressive or long-term incentive to stay."
"You think we're going to lose all of our fighting force?" Jeica asked hesitantly.
"No, nothing that dramatic. You'll keep at least some – a quarter, more depending on how you handle things. For now, enjoy the peace. Nobody's really sure exactly what's going on, what with the Xenos and the coup and everything. People are too confused to up and leave at the moment, but if you want to do anything meaningful, you're going to have to break it to them at some point. Just, have a plan on how to do it first."
Tyler turned away and hunched over the small laptop which was set up on a metal desk nearby, frowning and muttering to himself as he mulled over the information on the screen. The two humans knew better than to interrupt him, and so it was a couple of minutes later when he next spoke. "All tangents aside, the initiation. Parker will be able to vouch for you, and you'll no doubt pass their screening, so you'll have to make a choice: lieutenant, or general. As a general, you won't have any direct command over people, you'll be directing efforts and colonies from a safe location – that is to say, not here; you'll have to leave in favour of more secure housing. You'd have to retire from your military career and become somewhat of a paper-pusher. A crucial job, but one which you despise, yes?"
"You got that right," Jeica confirmed with a steely nod.
"Being a lieutenant would pretty much comprise of what you're already doing; advising other efforts, communicating with other lieutenants and organising missions. Joining in on operations is discouraged, but nobody except a general can tell you not to. Lieutenants generally command a colony, too, so you'll also have the responsibility of the local civilian workforce. Just don't think that gives you any power over me," Tyler added as an afterthought, tapping a few keys on the laptop to signal he was done.
"But you would have to listen to me," Jeica informed him with a sly smirk, teasingly. "Unless you want to be kicked out of the Resistance." Tyler shot her smug grin right back at her, not even gracing her by fully turning around as he opted to cast the expression over his shoulder.
"I'm what you call a rogue element," he explained. "I don't want to be here, but you need me to be here. I don't have to join the Resistance because you'll all worship my feet in order to get me to get shit done for you. You can certainly make suggestions, but your orders don't mean diddly-squat in the grand scheme of things. I'm my own man, so you can either let me do my thing, or watch me leave."
Jeica crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him, a clear expression of annoyance written across her face, which caused Tyler to laugh and return to his work. "And you're not denying it, so you know it's true. Good. I can work with that. Now, being the nice rogue element I am, I can take care of all the paperwork, so all you have to do is deal with that dirtbag Parker and put in the appeal to the generals."
"Is that actually a thing?" Jake inquired curiously. "A rogue element I mean. Or are you just being you again?"
"There's a folder on the table over there, you see it?" Tyler demanded as he took a seat before the laptop.
"Yeah, I see it. Is this one of those rogue element things?"
"No idiot, that's a DNS gateway reference sheet. Give it here." Jake sighed and handed the scientist the cardboard folder and watched as Tyler fished out the aforementioned piece of paper. He pulled up a multitude of dialogue boxes on the screen and placed the paper upright alongside the computer so he could glance between the two. As he continued his work, he spoke up again. "And yes, rogue elements are real things – usually used by big corporations to do shady business. Rogue elements are people like specialty engineers, mercenaries, hackers, smugglers and freelance scientists such as myself. Basically they'll work for you so long as you give them what they want, namely money, but they're not interested in long-term employment or loyalty. I can't speak for all my freelancing friends out there, but I myself find the strings attached approach to be irritating, to say the least. Too many restrictions, rules, preferences and idiots to deal with. People end up getting in my way and acting as if I should do things I don't believe are right simply because they told me to."
"Well, it's certainly nice to have you cooperating for a change," Jeica admitted. "You're a surprisingly deep well of information. But we have a lot to do. Jacob, if you're going to be a sergeant, or leader of operations, serving under me, you're going to need a bit more leadership experience under your belt. Here, I've got a little to-do list; get all these jobs done and report back to me." Jeica held out a slip of paper to the sergeant in question, and Jake grudgingly accepted the offered list.
"Yes ma'am," he sighed. He made awkward eye contact with her for a moment, and she slowly raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. "Oh, you mean now? But, don't you need my –"
"No," Tyler dismissed him, waving him off with one arm. "I only wanted you to help me move all the equipment in here, which you slept through. Having you around any longer would only distract me, as I doubt anyone on this rock knows the first thing about this equipment but me." He graced Jeica with a half-turn to face her. "And you can go ahead and talk to Parker; I have things covered here."
"Sure thing 'Mister Cool Rogue Element Little Junior Badass of the Resistance'," Jeica drawled sarcastically, sliding off of her perch and stretching. "I was getting sick of this dingy room anyway. Not that being around Parker is much of an improvement." Jake watched her saunter out of the room and held the slip of paper up before himself.
Investigate strange Xeno – Visit Marlene for info
Find out who's growing Cloud-9, arrest them. Known buyers: Pvt. Yamu, Cpl. Karm, Pvt. Leen
Talk to Elder Verah about potential Hive locations
Find out who amateur pornstar is, sort them out
Buy more Jerky
Jake sighed, long and slow, his face sinking into his palm. He was certain that Jeica had just dumped her chores on him under the pretence of training. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem, but the scrawled notes were reminders rather than instructions, leaving many details to be desired. For example, he had no idea who Marlene or Elder Verah were, and he wasn't familiar enough with the local militia to identify the woman in the video, nor could he identify the Cloud-9 buyers.
Speaking of which, he had no idea where the Cloud-9 could have even come from. As far as he knew, the alien drug couldn't grow on planets such as the one he was on. He glanced up for a moment, realising he had a scientist and a techie, all in one, right in front of him.
"Hey Tyler, what would it take to grow some Cloud-9 here?" he asked hesitantly.
"Jacob, I had no idea," Tyler guffawed in mock-horror.
"Not for me asshat, someone's growing it and I need something to narrow my search down."
"Normally I would say I had no idea just so I could watch you scamper around," Tyler confessed, "but I hate narcotics, so I'll throw you a bone on this one. Cloud-9 is refined from a plant which is native to acidic, low-atmosphere planets. Hydrochloric acid is a fan-favourite for fertilising the soil, so you could start by tracking down any shipments of that. There'll also be U.V. lamps in operation, and protein paste is often used to mimic their bug-based diet. Other than that, depending on the size of the operation, it could be made in someone's basement or a massive greenhouse, so there's not really much help to be found in terms of location."
"Thanks. Guess I'm off to the spaceport to view some cargo manifests," Jake announced.
"Well, hurry up and do it already then," Tyler barked, keeping up his hot streak of neglecting common conversational courtesy and keeping his eyes on his work. "No need to make a song and dance of it." Jake rolled his eyes at the sass and merely strode out the door, giving the to-do list a reaffirming glance as he did so. There's no way any of the soldiers who had come in with him had set up a drug cartel in such a small amount of time, which meant it was run by colonists who he had no jurisdiction over. With that in mind, he veered away from the bunker's exit and instead headed for the armoury, just in case. Picking out a standard pistol sidearm and slipping it into his hip holster, he deemed himself ready for worst-case scenario and made for the outside world. Even with all the training and experience on his side, he still found himself craving Advena's presence, as no idiot would dare pick a fight with him and his alien companion.
Shaking off the feeling, he reassured himself by deciding it was good to keep up the habit of operating solo, as he may not always have Advena with him to back him up. They could end up parting ways to tackle multiple objectives, or perhaps he could end up in a mission which demanded he mingle with a crowd, which Advena would be unable to do.
Soon enough, he found himself stepping through the automatic glass doors of the spaceport's post office. The attendant was resting with her feet up on the desk, face buried behind a space-race magazine. He cleared his throat to gain her attention, as she was far too engrossed with her reading.
"Excuse me ma'am," he implored politely. The glossy paper flopped down to reveal a rather young woman who couldn't be over nineteen. "I need to see the cargo manifest."
"You need permission from the boss for that," she told him nonchalantly.
"Lieutenant Smith sent me."
"Lieutenant Smith isn't in charge here. Sorry, can't help you." And with that, she flicked her magazine back up with an effortless twitch of her hands.
"It's kinda important," Jake insisted, stepping closer to the desk.
"So's keeping my job. There's nothing I can do for you buddy."
"Look," Jake growled, beginning to get annoyed, "I –" He was cut off when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, short and repeated. Someone was calling him, and nobody knew his number bar his friends and important contacts. "I have to take this." He fished out the ringing device, keeping half an eye on the attendant at all times so as to maintain his irritated glare, and hit the answer button without even checking the ID. "Y'ello?"
"Hey Jake, you still at the spaceport?" Tyler asked from the other end. "I forgot to pick up a package this morning. Thought you might as well fetch it while you're out there."
"Yeah, I'm still here. The manifest was a bust; attendant won't budge. Any other ideas on how to track down this dangerous drug lord who's sullying this colony's good people?" Jake asked, making sure to redouble his glaring efforts with every stressed word, but the attendant remained unmoved. An irritated sigh through the receiver, and Jake knew it was because Tyler cared more about his package than the comparatively-trivial affairs of the colony.
"If you know any names of buyers, you could always squeeze them for info and do a good old-fashioned set-up; pose as a buyer or something, catch the seller, find out who's supplying them."
"Sounds like a job for a policeman. Does this place even have policemen?"
"I doubt it. A place this size probably has a security team of about twelve members, at most. Though considering this is a Resistance stronghold, it's more likely the colonists themselves will pick up arms should the need to defend their home arise. So no, no police force to back you up here. Fortunately, that means you don't need a warrant to storm any buildings. Also, you have an entire battalion of recently-arrived ex-Weyland soldiers on your side. So, you know, don't forget about that."
"Ah, good idea. Thanks Tyler, you're a lifesaver."
"Hey! I'm not doing this for free! Bring me that damned package, okay?" Tyler's voice was replaced by the dial tone as the young scientist abruptly hung up. He would need a little time to think on his next move, but in the meantime, he could probably track down Elder Verah through the Xenos who milled about through the small colony. But first…
"Uh, yeah, I need to pick up one package for a Mister Tyler Doelle?"
~~~~~~~~~~()~~~~~~~~~~
"Uh, this is most strange…" Elder Verah hissed uncertainly. "I was expecting you to be more… female. Unless, are you a trendgender?"
"Transgender," Jake corrected her with a weary sigh, "and no, I'm a dude."
"Strange… You are Lieutenant Smith, are you not?"
"No, I'm her lackey, Sergeant Jacob Harlor, at your service. She says you wanted to speak about some potential Hive locations?"
"Indeed. I was hoping for a human of a more prestigious rank, but so be it. I have a few ideas as to where a good home for us would be, and find myself in need of some outsider input. Right this way." Jake took a moment to stand and stare in awe at the massive Praetorian as she turned slowly. He was glad for the space they had on the outskirts of town, as the ten-foot-tall tower of muscle and spines screamed accident-prone. However, Verah handled herself with as much grace as any other Xenomorph he'd seen, albeit slower, surprising him greatly. Her huge tail that could undoubtedly take out a small truck swept powerfully across the ground, kicking up dust clouds as she completed her turn, her massive, crested head turning to cast a glance at her tiny human companion to ensure he was ready to follow. "Do not fret about keeping up with me; I have to pick a careful pace through the forest in order to preserve the trees."
Jake couldn't help but snort amusedly at the mental image of her accidentally swaying her hips midway through her gait and smacking a tree halfway across the forest, though he supposed due to her subspecies' nature, it was far more likely she was referring to the fact that her only speed move was a head-on charge which would turn her head into a miniature bulldozer. Or maybe a full-sized bulldozer; she was pretty big.
They began their trek, and Jake found himself surprised yet again when Verah's steps didn't shake the planet to its very core. Other than the whump of noise which came from every step, her kind's natural grace kept her light enough on her feet not to create tremors in the soil. Though he supposed if she really wanted to, she could do a bit of stomping and scare the crap out of anything in a hundred-mile radius.
As they walked, Jake found himself wondering what it would be like to be a Host to one of the intimidating creatures. And inevitably, he wondered how in the hell you'd have sex with something like that. Would she even feel it? One thing was for certain; he sure didn't envy the guy who was going to be Bonded to the Queen, if they ever found a suitable candidate. Finally, Jake decided he might as well toss a couple of questions her way while they were still picking their way through the forest.
"Is it tough being so bi – uh, so high in stature?" he asked curiously. Verah let out a deep, rumbling, stuttering hiss of a chuckle at his mid-sentence slip-up.
"There is no need to dance around the point. I am rather large, especially compared to such a little creature as yourself. To answer your question, however, yes, it is quite tough being so high in stature. Namely, I have trouble fitting into human structures. I spent most of the trip over here in the hangar, as it is one of the few rooms I can fit comfortably in. Now, thankfully, I can be outside. Though it is saddening to know I can never interact with humans as the others can."
"Can't you, um, what do you call it? Respawn? Hatch as a different Xenomorph?" Verah shook her head sadly.
"It is rather difficult and time-consuming to encase a Praetorian in preparation for a 'respawn' as you so aptly put it. Not to mention that such an act would be selfish; Hives need Praetorians as their guards, protectors, overseers and back-up Queens. If everyone were to back away from the position in favour of fitting inside houses and having intercourse with humans, then there would be nobody to fill the role, and our Hive would suffer."
"Back-up Queens?" Jake echoed. "You mean you're fit for Queenliness?" Verah shook her mighty head grimly.
"No. Some Praetorians are, but not all. Regardless of the fact that Praetorians need not Royal Jelly to transform into a Queen, I am unfit for the position."
"Damn, you got my hopes up. For a second there, I thought part of this new life was going to be easy – or not a complete nightmare at the very least." Verah chuckled again at that comment, slowing her powerful strides to sniff the air.
"You are funny, Sergeant Jacob. I can see why Advena likes you."
"I hear that a lot," Jake admitted, "but it really doesn't seem that way right now."
"Oh hush, she is just upset. Besides, she would have returned to you by now if not for Mozart's counsel."
"What? Why that sneaky little –"
"Peace, Jacob. He is not wrong to advise her as such. Ever since you became a telepath Advena has been there, guiding, tampering. This is healthy enough if you are willing to form a Dependant Bond, but a couple in your line of work would not want such a thing, I think. Taking little breaks from one another over the next little while will fortify your minds as individuals, thus creating an Independent Bond, which you will find much use for."
"I would just like you to know, there are so many things about this telepathy business to remember, that my head hurts sometimes."
"Such is life now," Verah chortled. "Perhaps it would assist you if I explained the terms. A Dependant Bond brings the two closer and makes them stronger when they are together. However, it also makes it hard to separate individual thought, and minds can become cluttered at times. It is also possible to develop crippling dependency, where having the Bond severed will have physical effects on the bodies of the Bonded." Jake remembered the feeling of desperation he had felt when Advena had first walked out on him, cutting off their Bond. With a grimace, he realised he could have been very close to such a stage before the argument. "An Independent Bond, on the other hand, while less streamlined in terms of telepathic communications, will develop stronger mental defences in the individuals and will keep them from being harmed by negative side effects."
"Eh, still," Jake muttered, calm now, but still unenthused, "Mozart does seem to have a very low opinion of Advena and I."
"He is scared of Advena, and has adopted a bit of Tyler's philosophy, such is why he is a pacifist now. Before meeting that odd human, Mozart was quite happy to slaughter anybody with ill intent. Much has changed over the years, and I have experienced it all, but nothing has had such an impact on us as you humans."
"Ah, so you're thinking some of Tyler's attitude has rubbed off on him?" Jake guessed. Verah graced him with a nod, and drew to a halt at the edge of a small crescent-shaped clearing. Across the sunny patch of grass stood the gaping and jagged entrance to a rocky cave.
"This is my personal preference. It is close to the human Hive, surrounded by resources, almost pre-constructed for us and quite expansive. I believe all that is required is a coat of resin to make this a perfect Hive."
"It does seem very practical," Jake agreed.
"Do you wish to view the interior?"
"No," Jake answered flatly, a little too quickly. Verah gave him an odd look, probably expecting some kind of explanation or excuse, but Jake merely fixed his eyes on a large leaf lamely.
"I see…" Verah muttered, but Jake doubted she truly understood, which was fine by him. "Is there… something wrong with it?" Jake gritted his teeth, not stupid enough not to realise what she was doing. Time for a counter-attack which he was sure even Tyler would have to be proud of.
"No, it's perfect. But you already know that. Chances are you had already decided to build your Hive here long before contacting Jeica, so why are we really here?"
"It is true," Verah admitted, her body losing its tension so she could lie down upon the ground comfortably. "Receiving approval from a human was secondary to what I truly desire. I sought out Jeica because she is the Queen of your Hive, and thus it stood to reason she would be able to help me. The truth is, I am concerned for our fragile alliance. The Xenomorphs who are Bonded are perfectly happy to frolic with their humans, but the un-Bonded feel neglected. Without a Queen, they cannot… 'respawn', was it? And therefore, they cannot Bond. I am worried that if we do not make a move to find a Queen and some royal jelly soon, something terrible could happen. Jealousy is a powerful thing, especially when something so significant to our species as Bonding comes into question."
Jake placed a comforting hand on her crested head, giving it a long, lavishing stroke in the way he knew Advena loved. Verah visibly relaxed and purred lightly at the touch, a wisp of sadness permeating the air like a scented candle. Clearly she was no exception, and despite her talk of duty, she longed for a human to call her own.
"I promise you, we're working on it right now," Jake soothed her. "We just need access to the right resources and information before we can launch the mission. You just worry about getting this Hive built, yeah? Before you know it, I'll be back delivering some royal jelly right to your doorstep." Verah's lips parted into a relatively-small smile and slowly she shifted her legs back underneath her, allowing her to stand once more.
"You are correct. We cannot accept a Queen until we prepare her a Hive. I shall remind the un-Bondeds of this, and perhaps the Hive's construction will keep them busy enough to keep the jealousy at bay. Thank you, Jacob."
~~~~~~~~~~()~~~~~~~~~~
Jake ticked 'Talk to Elder Verah' off his list and glanced over his other chores. He still had no idea who Marlene was, so that would have to wait. He was at a loss as to how to track down the drug dealers, so that was on hold for now, which only left finding the amateur pornstar. He could ask around and see if anyone recognised her face from the video, but that would be humiliating for her, and might cause people to look at him unfavourably, which would be counter-productive anyway. This left him with the exact same problem he was already having with the drug scandal; he needed to track down people he didn't know without making a scene of it.
"Damn it Jeica," he sighed to himself. If this wasn't her glorified grocery list, Jake might have accredited it to challenging him, thus making him prove himself worthy for a rank in the Resistance, but in reality he knew the real reasons for his suffering were much less productive. He bit his lip in thought, and a realisation dawned on him. Tyler was already snooping through all the colony's more secure cyberspace, what would be stopping him from helping Jake track people down? Aside from the obvious, of course. It was worth a shot, however, and Jake fished out his phone.
"Jacob," Tyler greeted neutrally. Quiet tapping could be heard like the feverish ticking of a clock, suggesting he was still working on whatever it was he needed to do to encrypt their communications.
"You busy at the moment?"
"That's a stupid question. Of course I'm busy; I'm always busy. The question is, is what I'm busy with important enough to trump whatever you want me to be busy with?"
"Uh… yeah, sure. I need help tracking some people down, can you do it?"
"I could, theoretically, but it'll take a while. The colony's not too good with security like that. I can't run facial scans because there are hardly any cameras about, and there aren't enough automated systems to reliably expect a ping in an interaction log. But if it's soldiers you're looking for, that'll make things just a little easier."
"I need to track down our resident porn star, Private Yamu, Corporal Karm, and Private Leem. You get all that?" Jake asked, still staring down at the list of names in his hand as if the answer would pop up at any moment beside them. He heard Tyler typing at a much different tempo than before, and so could only guess he was on to it.
"Isn't this supposed to be your job?"
"It's my job to deal with them, finding them is fair game. Besides, I'm supposed to be proving my leadership skills or whatever. Doing everything alone isn't very leader-like."
"And getting others to do your work for you is. Are you starting to see why I'm not into the whole 'having a superior officer' thing?"
"I never had a problem understanding it, I just don't happen to believe going independent is right for me. I'm not the smartest guy and I have my flaws. I'm not afraid to admit I need the help of others at times, and having a CO fits the bill."
"And 'Vena, of course. You need her to keep you out of trouble."
"I find she generally gets me into it."
"Fair enough. I've got a hit on our pornstar wannabe; her name is Amelia Farlon. God bless whoever has taken on the hellish task of administration, she's currently written down as the lead training grounds overseer. She should be there any time the sun's shining and meals aren't being eaten. As for the others, I've got their profiles, but I'm going to have to do a bit more digging to track them down. Remind me to find whoever's taking the time to actually organise this fuckfest so I can give them a gift basket or something. Tyler out."
The line went dead, and Jake slipped his phone into his pocket. He was liking this, to say the least. Even if Tyler was still being a condescending prick most of the time, he was helping them, and that would prove invaluable, especially considering his previous position in the Welyand-Yutani program, and his apparently-extensive knowledge about… well, everything.
Jake promptly arrived at the hill which overlooked the large, flat, grass-less area which made up the training grounds, colloquially referred to as the 'arena'. A few trees dotted the area, usually accompanied by bench seats in their limited shade to provide a reprieve from the baking heat. There was little activity in the area – mostly marines touching up on their marksmanship, or colonists being given basic tips to improve on their pseudo-training, alongside the occasional Xenomorph, observing the activities and even being so bold as to take part, though the latter was only the case in one or two spots.
On the far end of the dry, cracked ground, a small modern building which could only be called a glorified shack stood with blinds pulled down within the windows in a feeble attempt to keep the sun out. It was situated near the large sheds which housed equipment, which meant it was most likely the administration building. Jake hazarded a guess and decided he would find this Amelia there. He made his way down the hill and strode across the hard ground, nodding greeting to the marines who offered him casual salutes, and knocked on the small building's door.
The unassuming wood panel creaked open, revealing the tall woman who had made the video, dressed smartly in her uniform. Her Warrant Officer's uniform. Jake gulped nervously, his previous plans of how to approach the matter thrown to the wind at the revelation. She outranked him. That complicated things. He'd been hoping he could do the typical 'stern CO' act, bark a couple of orders with a little intimidation thrown into the mix and be done with it.
"Good afternoon Sergeant Harlor," Amelia greeted him, looking slightly bemused as to why he suddenly seemed so uncertain, but retaining her cool exterior. She looked very nonchalant for somebody who had just recently filmed herself having sex with an alien and abused military equipment.
"Uh… hey… Ma'am…" Jake managed to blurt out. He sighed and recomposed himself, remembering Tyler's words. There were technically no ranks involved here. A more 'human' approach might have been the better option from the get go anyway. "Look, can I come in for a minute? I need to talk to you, and it might be best if it's in private." Amelia's expression immediately sobered, and she stepped aside to allow him within. She knew what was up. He placed himself inside the small office-like area which was reminiscent of the temporary offices construction sites employed, and waited until the door had clicked shut before speaking, hands clasped firmly behind his back so as to prevent fidgeting.
She didn't make any moves to offer excuses or apologies, which either meant she was keeping her cards close to her chest, or she knew it was futile. "I'm going to make this clear: we're not part of the military anymore, so this isn't soldier to soldier, this is person to person. It also means you haven't broken any rules," Jake began, calmly, maintaining enough eye contact to be sincere, but not enough to make either of them uncomfortable. Amelia let out a small huff of relief. "That being said, any in-or-out-bound communications carry a significant risk with them, but there was nothing in your video which could lead the Wey-Yu to our door, which I imagine was purposeful, so we let that one slide. Just remember that while there won't be any court-marshals or other formal action against you to my knowledge, your actions do have consequences to everyone on this colony, not least of all yourself. I don't mean to intrude on your personal life but, remember that you are on a planet with one small colony where soon enough everybody will know everybody's face. If word spreads… I just really hope you thought this through."
"I appreciate your concern," Amelia told him politely, "but I don't regret it. I was actually thinking of trying to improve the Xenos' image. Porn seemed as good a place as any to start."
"Well, you certainly got the galaxy's attention," Jake assured her with a chuckle. "And, to be honest with you, maybe you're on to something. Maybe we should start broadcasting photos, videos and the likes of us interacting with the Xenos. Even if it means we give Weyland an easier time accessing them, at least we'll stop the slaughter."
"Stop one, make another worse. Still, the Xenos deserve better. We made these mistakes, we let Weyland rise to power, so we should deal with the consequences, not them." Jake made to commend her words, but was interrupted by the buzz of his phone. He gave an apologetic smile and quickly brought it up to his face.
"Tyler. Tell me you have good news."
"There wasn't much to work with, shaky leads at best, so I ditched the names and hacked the spaceport instead. I figured these guys were the aforementioned buyers?"
"Yeah, they were the buyers alright. So, you found the drugs themselves?" Amelia frowned at the mention of drugs, suddenly curious.
"Well, not exactly. These guys are thorough; if they got supplies from the outside, they wiped all records of it. So I fell back to the next best thing and brought up the colony schematics, scouted out a few potential locations. My money's on the terraformer shed. It's big enough for decent production rate, has all the resources needed to grow plants, and draws in quite the amount of energy from the power grid, despite this planet having never needed terraforming. If it's not drugs, it's something shady."
From what little Jake knew of colony procedures, he could agree with Tyler on those points. Terraforming was a strong word for the 'shed', which was really more of a warehouse-factory hybrid. The building was used for creating necessary components for planting Earthen flora, in case the planet was too barren or if there were no viable food sources. With a few added components, you could theoretically grow anything from any environment in there, including the infamous plant used to make Cloud-9.
"Alright, I'll check it out. Thanks Tyler."
"Just… be careful, okay? I have too few people who can put aside my sexuality and actually listen to me as it is. Not to mention Advena will be devastated if you get killed."
"I'll grab a really big gun, just for you," Jake promised, smirking despite knowing he'd probably just set himself back by jibing at the man's sincerity. Worth it. Tyler sighed, seemed to consider saying something else, then hung up.
"Sounds pretty serious," Amelia commented concernedly.
"What, taking down a drug operation manned by potentially-armed gangsters? All in a day's work nowadays."
"You have a plan?"
"Check the place out, if there's drugs in there, arrest everyone and destroy everything."
"Hm," was all Amelia had to say about that plan. Obviously she didn't think much of it. "How about this: you check the place out, and if there's drugs in there, you radio me for backup. We'll then storm the building, arrest anyone inside, and confiscate everything."
"Can't say no to a deal like that. Our best guess is the terraformer shed, so standby somewhere nearby. How much backup are we talking?"
"As many marines as I can gather from the training grounds. We have both live and training rounds here by the way, so you can take your pick and save yourself the trouble of a trip to the armoury if you like." Jake thanked her, and promptly made way for the neighbouring shed. A quick conversation with the clerk had him checking out an M4RA Battle Rifle. While certainly not his first choice of weaponry, it was far superior to the Pulse Rifle in the circumstances. Not that he hoped to use it, but that was another plus; Pulse Rifles lacked a certain intimidation factor which the Battle Rifle aced. Any rookie can pick up an M14A and go to town, but when you have a Battle Rifle in your face, you know it's time to put your gun down.
As Jake made his way off the training grounds, his phone buzzed once more, and a quick glance confirmed it was a message from Tyler, consisting solely of a map of the colony, a sloppy red circle drawn around a rather large building towards the centre. He smirked, loving this new Tyler he'd received, and pocketed the device with a better idea of where he was headed. The jog was long, as the training grounds were effectively on the very edge of town, but Jake had been vigilant on maintaining his body with daily drills, so he barely broke a sweat even in the high heat of the planet's summer by the time he reached his destination.
The building was fairly nondescript; typical Weyland-Yutani manufacturing, it was efficient, steel and easily movable. The buildings in its line were pre-made, basically folding out like cardboard boxes with thick windows that weren't quite glass, as they were slightly polarised and more durable. It reminded Jacob of the boatshed he had destroyed alongside Tyler mere days ago, albeit a colder, more clinical version. Jake chewed his lip as he eyed the high windows, situated near the ceiling so as to allow light in, but block the interior from view. It was as if the Wey-Yu intended for it to be used as Tyler suspected it was, but then again, the Corporation was notorious for its shady operations, so that could very well be the case.
If Advena were with him, he could have gotten her to make quick work of scrambling up the smooth, steel walls and peeking in through the window, but as he was, he didn't have that advantage, and thus had to devise a different method. He glanced around the area thoughtfully, taking note of his surroundings. A few buildings stood rather close to the shed, varying in height, and some boarded off with neat planks of wood sealing the doors and windows where necessary. He supposed these were the preliminary buildings which would aid in the early days of colony construction, quickly becoming obsolete once better facilities were built. Under normal circumstances, the materials would be repurposed, but in this case it would have been far more trouble than it was worth, as there were copious amounts of building materials in the surrounding nature.
The boards looked to be bolted on with industrial bolts however, which meant he couldn't exactly break in and see if he could spot something through one of the building's windows – else what would be the point in boarding it up in the first place, he supposed. As he continued to stare, his gaze seemed to sharpen on its own, picking out random details he shouldn't have cared about. Two-inch gaps between boards, durable metal bars which would have attached to the delivering ship's cargo arm and gaps where the steel plating had peeled off over time became blatantly obvious.
Jake glanced between the ruined building before him and the terraformer shed's window, suddenly pondering how if he could get up to the third story window, he could lean out and take a peek into the target structure. He recalled not so long ago that he had been in Advena's body, trying to climb up his room's wall on the Reveles Station, and that his alien companion had fed him some of her instincts to assist him. It seemed the skills didn't leave him as he left her body. With a grin, he jogged towards the building and jumped the first foot of the climb, fingers catching the edge of a warped steel plate.
Persistent training schedule finally paying off, he began swinging himself gently with one arm whilst outstretching the other, working up his momentum until he could launch himself up towards the second story window, giving his hands a painful jolt when he grabbed one of the boards which sealed it. From there, it was a simple matter to haul himself up to the cargo rail and shimmy across it until he was below his target window, where he used the boards covering that one as a ladder. With a self-satisfied smirk of accomplishment, he leaned out with one hand anchoring him to the building and peered through the glass of the terraformer shed.
He didn't know whether to be nervous or relieved to find that beyond the high catwalks which lined the upper interior, grow beds and life-support systems for dozens upon dozens of Cloud-9 plants were being maintained by shady individuals clad in a mix between lab gear and gardening clothes. It didn't look particularly busy at that moment, but even so he spied facilities which were obviously used for chemical creation being worked by the experts, most likely to create the perfect acidic fertiliser.
"The fuck are you doing?" Jake startled at the harsh voice, and nearly fell out of his dangerous position, before jerking his gaze towards the ground. A crate had been discarded on the ground nearby to a man in dirty overalls who had obviously been carrying it into the shed. Rather than answer, Jake reeled himself in and slipped his radio out of his vest.
"Uh, Amelia? Now would be an excellent time for that back-up," he uttered. Several of the workers within the shed had come out at the commotion, shedding their lab equipment as they were pointed in his direction. A glint of steel caught the sun as one of the workers decided he'd seen too much and drew their weapon, leaving Jake to a split-second decision. He pulled himself in as close to the wall as he could get and tensed himself against the cool steel, before launching himself like a spring and tucking his head behind his arms as he sailed into the not-quite-glass window with a tremendous crash.
He thumped painfully onto the metal catwalk beyond, barely able to catch sight of the workers outside rushing back in to find him in his dazed state.
Then on the other side of the structure, the gargantuan loading doors exploded inwards, sending forth a billowing sea of smoke within. Likewise, grey clouds erupted from behind the gunmen who had just dashed back inside, sealing off both exits with gas which had anyone caught within coughing and watery-eyed. Flashes of blue light lit up the clouds like a miniature thunderstorm, sending out bright streaks which struck the drug-den's occupants one-by-one with pinpoint accuracy – though that wasn't too high praise, considering how frozen with shock or smoke they were.
Dark shapes emerged from the grey fog, neon blue strips of visors becoming visible as they neared the thinning edges, finally revealing two fireteams dressed smartly in USCM uniform, training guns leading their every move.
"Clear one," the leader of the first pack announced, waving their hand above their head in a reaffirming motion.
"Clear two," the other leader responded in kind.
"Visors off, cuffs out. Great job team; clean sweep," Amelia congratulated them, pulling her helmet off to unleash her short hair. She scanned the area for a moment, before catching sight of Jake as he gingerly slipped down a ladder, thumping onto the floor below. "That's hardly proper breach-and-clear procedure, Mister Harlor," she chided him with a clearly-amused smirk.
"That's Sergeant until I get my arm blown off, thank you very much," Jake retorted. "I had to improvise."
"Improvise," she scoffed sceptically, outstretching a small device towards him. He cocked his head in confusion as he accepted his radio handset from her, having not realised he'd dropped it in his tumble. That would explain why he hadn't gotten an answer from her earlier. She used the same arm to thump his shoulder playfully moments before sauntering off towards where her soldiers were dragging dazed and unconscious workers into a neat group.
Now with a moment to himself, Jake quickly patted his body down, plucking a small shard of not-quite-glass from his wrist and shaking some pieces from his boot, but was otherwise relieved to find himself unharmed; he imagined Advena would have up and left him if he managed to get himself gravely injured yet again in such a short amount of time; he hadn't even gotten the bandage off his shoulder yet from the wild animal attack a few days ago.
"Let me go you stupid bitch! You can't do this!" one of the prisoners spat spitefully as Amelia forced him onto his knees with his arm twisted behind his back. One of her marines handed her a zip tie, which she expertly tightened around the man's wrists.
"You're under arrest for the growing, possession and distribution of drugs," she told him matter-of-factly.
"On whose authority?"
"Lieutenant Smith's, commander of this colony," a familiar, female's voice announced. Jeica appeared in the doorway, head held high with pride and a self-satisfied smirk gracing her lips. "Good job Sergeant."
"Thanks," Jake grunted, popping his shoulder painfully. "That was quick."
"Well, there's still work to be done before I can start sending my militia out on missions – namely I need to recruit people for said militia – but this colony is now mine to control, within the confines of the Resistance ideals of course."
"And the Resistance trusts you, just like that?"
"Well, I was already helping some local lieutenants with Parker via our long-range comms, so between that and the fact that I'm a ranking military officer, the generals were pretty happy to have me on board." She suddenly twitched as she remembered something and fished out her radio. "Uh, yeah, negative on the fire. Situation is under control. Thanks Tyler."
"He saw smoke and assumed I'd set fire to the place?" Jake snorted
"You're surprised he did?" Jeica shot back. Jake shrugged in defeat; that was fair. "Though, between you and me, I think he's warming up to ya. He certainly seems to be enjoying himself, barking orders from a chair in a cosy room far away from the action. Given enough time, he might even abandon this 'Rogue Element' bullshit and join the hierarchy."
"Oh, and our favourite porn star might be worth talking to at some point; she seems to have some sense about her." Jeica gave him a doubting expression, to which he rolled his eyes. "Trust me; just have a chat with her. While I don't believe she had the purest of intentions in mind when she made the video, she has some pretty good excuses for it. As you can see, the drug operation is all sorted out, Verah actually didn't need any help, she just wanted a heart-to-heart and I didn't know what flavour you wanted, so I just bought all three." Jeica frowned in confusion, which only mounted when Jake pulled three bags of beef jerky from his chestplate and pressed them into her hands, along with the slip of paper with the to-do list on it. "Now I'm exhausted and sore all over, so I'm heading home. Adios, Lieutenant." Before Jeica could blush sheepishly, Jake saluted her tiredly and hobbled for the door.
The moment he entered his home, he collapsed onto the couch, squirming from side to side so he could access his armour and yank it off, leaving it in a heap to deal with later. As strong as he wanted to act, he was losing sleep, and it needed to stop or he wouldn't be able to do his job. He sighed as his last piece of armour flopped into the pile and massaged his temples warily. Despite his apprehension, he fell asleep fast.
When his eyes fluttered open, he was paralysed once more, this time his back was pressed against the hard, unforgiving wall, his limbs all plastered to its surface by uncompromising resin. He was facing the doorway, where the pitch blackness swallowed all hope and joy, staring at him menacingly in such a way as he knew it wanted to swallow him up too. He felt the familiar tickle of thick goo creeping up his calf, aiming to encase him fully as his heart rate ramped up a notch. An oppressive presence exerted itself in the darkness beyond the doorway. He felt it drawing closer once more, bringing nothing but maddening panic to his mind as he began struggling against his bonds, desperately trying to tug even a single arm free – but to no avail.
The presence crept ever nearer, and Jake knew that it – whatever it was – was the embodiment of death itself. Maybe a Xenomorph? Maybe not. He never felt scared around Xenomorphs, so why this? What could possibly be lurking where the light couldn't exist? His heart was trying to hammer itself out of his chest, fear gripping his very being. The presence was lingering just at the edge of his vision, keeping out of sight as it reared up to pounce. As it leapt towards him, before he could catch a glimpse of it, his eyes shot open. He was still pinned, a presence lingered in his mind, and a blurry, dark shape loomed above him.
He cried out in terror and desperately threw the weight aside, surprising himself when he managed to topple the creature alongside a squeal of surprise. He thumped painfully onto the floor, but didn't waste a second in rolling to his feet and bringing his fists up to bear.
When finally his breathing slowed and his vision adjusted itself to the darkness, he let out a shaky breath and relaxed. Advena picked herself up off the floor, hissing disdainfully to herself, but no anger bled through into their Bond. The presence – he could feel Advena's mind again; he'd almost forgotten what that was like. But she was there, reconnected, and when she found her feet, she gazed at him with a mental expression of concern.
"Jacob?" she prompted hesitantly. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," he grumbled, rubbing a tired eye with the back of his hand.
"You…" she started, before trailing off. She didn't really know how to breach the subject delicately, but it certainly made a few pieces fit together in her mind.
"Are being betrayed by my own mind?" he finished before her, flopping back onto the couch. "Yeah. It doesn't make any bloody sense, but it's there."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Would you have listened?"
"Probably not," Advena admitted guiltily. She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly for a moment, then grimaced and sat down next to her lover. "It's… nothing to be ashamed of," she reassured him, hesitant as if expecting him to bite her at any moment. "Everyone is afraid of something, and often it's irrational. Some are afraid of bugs, even. Bugs! Being afraid of Xenomorph Hives is probably an excellent survival instinct – well, was, up until a couple of months ago." Jake didn't say anything, and Advena gave him a mental prod, just to make sure he was still awake. He had lost an unhealthy amount of sleep over this. "How about tomorrow we destroy that stuff in the bedroom and maybe your nightmares will go away?"
"No, Advena, we can't; you worked so hard on that…" Jake protested with about as much energy as a sack of potatoes.
"Your health means more to me than a bunch of glorified dried saliva. If you don't want to help me, I'll just take it down by myself." Advena sternly pushed Jake down onto the couch so he was lying on his side and curled her body around him protectively, smiling warmly at the way he interlocked his hand with the large, black one which was draped over his stomach. She had missed this, and felt like an idiot for listening to Mozart, of all people. Screw tactical advantages; if war meant she couldn't enjoy her companion after decades of being alone, then she would kidnap Jake and take him somewhere far away, where war couldn't touch them anymore.
Jake, for his part, knew that determined strain of mental emotion; Advena wouldn't budge on this one, so he'd better let it slide for his sake. Not that he was in any position to argue any points at that moment anyway. Finally, with Advena's watchful presence, he could fall asleep, undisturbed by the plague of nightmares.