The next morning, Akkan woke up from the little nap he had taken on the soft bed. It permitted him to lie on his back, because it was so soft, it didn't disturb his dorsal tubes. The room mostly had been quiet, only sometimes Paul had muttered something in his sleep.

He had moved, and sweated a lot, Akkan smelled it. Now in the light of the room, he looked like he was already dead. His skin was pale, even his lips were pale. There was a sickly smell about the bandage which was drenched in yellow ooze from the wound.

What had happened? Akkan did not know. He was worried, worried as Paul did not react to his mental screaming. He even roared at the human, spit landing on his sweaty face, but there was no reaction.

Mentally squealing with rage, he ran against the wall in the room, thundering his head against it again and again in frustration.

There was nothing he could do. They needed the doctor guy. But he couldn't really run out, he didn't even know where to go. Besides that, he could not ever talk to the doctor human.

He couldn't even answer back at Weyland, not that he'd try anyway. There had to be something he could do.

Growling in frustration, he lashed at a small table, tearing it apart in rage. What could he do?

He clawed the wall angrily, and then stopped, as someone knocked on the door.

Akkan hissed defensively, and jumped in front of Paul, who was still lying helplessly in the bed. He would defend his mate, no matter what the cost.

The door hissed open, and a familiar scent wafted in.

Weyland

Of all humans, Akkan was glad to see Weyland in the door. After all, he could trust Weyland to a point.

"Akkan? Where's –"

Weyland's lips thinned as he saw Paul's unconscious, pale form on the bed. "What's wrong?"

Akkan tried to gesture at his shoulder, but Weyland just stared at him, and marched past the Xenomorph, to Paul. He stared at him, and then turned to the Xeno "His wound is infected. He needs a doctor. Can I take him with me?"

The Xeno, hissing aggressively, shook his head. So much he trusted Weyland, he would not let Paul out of his eyesight. Not everyone on this ship was as friendly as the human.

"All right. And I doubt the doctor will like you in his ward."

Weyland muttered to himself. "I can get him to come here, if you promise to hide. Don't squeal, don't shriek and don't attack. I know it's hard trusting me, but if the doc tries anything funny, I'll be here too."

Akkan growled, but grudgingly, being fully aware that Weyland was talking sense, started to crunch himself into a metal locker, being careful to keep his instincts peeled. Weyland marched out of the room, and for some time, nothing happened.

Then, three voices closed in on the room. Weyland, and two other people. The door swung open, and Weyland entered with two people in tow.

"Here he is. His wound is infected."

The doctor bent over him, and started to take off the bandage. "Who is he?"

"He's Dr. Paul Cromwell, who was originally imprisoned on this ship."

The doctor had removed the bandage to reveal a blotchy, yellowish wound. Akkan winced at the sight, and almost stormed out to protect his mate, but managed to contain himself. "The wound is infected. Probably due to ingress of dirt. Why wasn't it cleaned and inspected daily?"
"Because he was imprisoned on your ship, without medical care and attention."

"The wound needs to be cleaned, decontaminated, and then re-sealed. It's been sewed shut, by hand, and it would be advisable if we taped it shut."

"Can you do this here? In this bed?"

The doctor looked at Weyland "I could, why should we do it though? We can transport him to sick bay-"

"We are not transporting him. That's final."

"Suit yourself" the doctor muttered, and left again, his assistant was staying in the room.

He bent over, and prepared to inject Paul with something, probably tranquilizers again.
Weyland put his hand on the assistant's arm. "Take this one. It's local anaesthetics, it'll be kinder to his system"

He offered him a different syringe, and took the one the assistant was holding "Hey, give that back!"

Weyland ignored him, and the assistant went on injecting the stuff, which smelled horrible to Akkan's nose, and proceeded to extract something from the wound. Sticky, sick-smelling ooze came out of the wound, and Akkan started to get scared. Maybe it was far worse for Paul than he had thought? He wasn't really aware of human physiology. But he had to wait, and that was worse. He didn't know if the assistant was doing anything good or bad to his mate.

His gloved hands were stained, and the doctor returned to the room, with a bag and a few instruments.

"How's the wound?"

"Bad. Quite infected. It will need to be cleaned, and then re-sealed."
"Very well. Give me the disinfectant."

The doctors started to work, in rapid, controlled moves, cleaning the wound, removing the yellow build-up, and then, with a fearsome sound, they started sealing it up again. It wasn't a huge wound, and the medics did not take long.

Weyland looked over their shoulders, taking care that they did not hurt Paul. Akkan wished he could be the one watching over his mate, but he wouldn't know what to watch out for. Besides people were afraid of him. Afraid of what he was.

And he did not want to disturb the doctor's work. They had to do their work properly, no matter how much he hated the humans on this ship. Paul's well-being was more important.

Silently, he stayed inside the cupboard, watching, listening, but not moving.

The doctor had closed the wound, and now was bandaging Paul again.

"Mr. Weyland, let him rest, inspect the wound daily, make sure it won't go septic again."

"I will advise him on that once his fever lessens and he wakes up."

The doctor looked at Weyland: "His system had to take a lot of abuse recently."

Weyland frowned "That's not down to me. You were the ones who imprisoned him, and abused him."

"Don't look at me! I'm just a medical android."

The doctor and his assistant departed, and Akkan almost tore the cupboards door from his hinges.

He bounded over to Paul, and brushed the human's cheek.

It was hot, but there was no sick smell to him anymore. Blood had stained the bandage already, but it was clean, red blood.

He turned over to Weyland and hissed at him thankfully.

"Listen, Akkan. You take good care of him. I have matters to attend to, right now. Matters of great importance. The only thing that you have to know is that you have to keep Paul safe, and away from the clutches of our enemies agents. That means nobody enters or leaves this room except me."

Akkan growled, and Weyland exited the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

The xeno did a quick patrol around the room, and, after making sure Paul was securely blanketed, he curled up on the bed next to him, being careful to stay awake, and stay aware, so nobody would hurt his mate whilst he slept.

He had to get better. He just had to. Akkan didn't know what to do without Paul. Paul was the only thing he was interested in right now. Not only from the view of his survival, but also from a different, deeper point of view.

Paul was his mate. Xenomorphs didn't get the chance to mate often. Only the strongest warrior, one of the praetorians, was permitted to mate with the queen.

Yet, it was not overly uncommon for two male or female xenos to mate, even for life. It was tolerated, as it posed no threat to the queen's rule over the hive.

But once a xenomorph had mated, it was for life. One would not let go of the other.

Akkan was not intending to let go of Paul, not ever, and he hoped Paul would feel the same.

Sitting on the bed, he wondered how exactly they could physically mate.

What they had done before was nice, but it didn't fill him. It wasn't enough.

He thought of some things he would like to do, and suddenly felt something poking the bed.

He was getting hard, thinking of what they could do together.

Softly, he turned on his back, and started to take his hardness into his talon.

Touching himself, he growled softly in happiness.

Weyland had secured a communicator, and was dispatching a written communication.

He was writing to an old friend of his, who was working as a freelance journalist. His name was Keith Harrington, and he lived in a remote village in the north of Scotland, for his retirement. Keith had worked with his father on numerous occasions.

And now Keith was the one person who knew how to hide a live xenomorph.

He started to input a message:

W: Hello Keith! How's it going?

It took not long for Keith to answer

K: Hello Frederic! How's your old man?

W: I don't really have time to chat about that. This connection is not that secure.

K: Oh. What do you want?

W: I need you to meet me at a set of coordinates, with your truck.

K: What is it?

W: It is complicated. I will tell you once you meet me in person.

K: Okay. When and where?

W: In four days' time. Follow the road in front of your house for 75 miles, then turn right, after exactly 5 miles, you turn left again, then go ahead for another mile. That's the spot.

K: Cryptic!

W: The connection isn't secure.

K: Okay. Is it just you? Or are there other associates.

W: Three. Darken the windows of your truck.

K: Very well. I still need a time.

W: In four days' time, around 3 A.M, on the designated spot.

K: Very well. Anything else?

W: Don't tell anyone. Not even your wife. In fact, delete this communication right away.

K: Is everything okay? You're definitely afraid of something.

W: Nothing is okay. Take care. Take real care. Nobody is safe

-COMMUNICATION TERMINATED-

Keith would help them. But Captain Ulridge would tell their opponent everything he knew. Up until now, they were unaware of his newest meddling in their plan. But once the extraction ship was close enough to earth, they would be informed, even by them severing all contact to the main base. Then they would have to be fast, and Weyland would have to be on the bridge. Nobody here was on their side, but the Xenomorph would be enough to make them listen and do exactly what he wanted them to.

He was unsure what to do with both Paul and Akkan.

He wanted to leave Paul with Keith, and take Akkan with him to the centre of the action. Paul would only hinder them, but he knew that Akkan would never leave Paul behind. They were some sort of Item now, and Weyland knew better than to get between a Xeno and his mate of choice. The creature was, in hand-to-hand combat still much faster and much more deadly than him. It was a born fighter, maybe not focused, but still deadly.

They had to go to the Weyland-Yutani HQ, all three of them. And Paul had to use a gun, whenever he wanted or not.

The scientist had uses. He was smart, brilliant even. He might be able to deduce something, or even hack the HQ's computer mainframe.

He doubted it though. He doubted the scientist would last long enough mentally to be able to enjoy the safe retreat he had promised. He wasn't even sure if the scientist would actually survive their quest.

Yes, it was a quest. A quest to return the king to the throne.

And it was all that mattered.