Moving in the dense brush was a hazy silhouette. One could discern eight legs leaving depressions in the dirt. Its target was some yards away, making his way to a short-lived freedom from Maximus. SPARTAN had tasked this Arachnica with tracking the traitor Robert Koening from the facility. They were aware of the uncanny exit he had used, the sewer duct that opened up into the natural waterfall in the plateau, but there was no fear of it ever being used to get back in. No fauna was intelligent enough to exploit such a weakness, let alone know where it is. To the outward observer, there was nothing there but a waterfall.
Koening reached a clearing in the trees. In the middle of the clearing, under what looked like some tree branches and bushes that were plastic-looking and did not look local to the area, was a tarp with a typical forest biome pattern covering something hard and straight-lined. He grinned and took off the tarp, revealing his getaway vehicle. It was an older legacy model Blackbird shuttle with a military grade stealth suite and radar canceling paint. The spy began his preparations, opening the hatch into the surprisingly roomy ship.
He did not, however, notice the gold laser dot trained on his back. The drone in the underbrush was given the order to terminate. It readied its underslung gauss rifle...
A roar broke the silence, followed by a high-pitched report. The Arachnica's shot went wide, hitting just to the right of Robert's head, the depleted uranium spike sticking deeply into the ship's hull. Koening's eyes went wide as he realized he just narrowly missed a meeting with his maker. He turned around to see a commotion in the brush between two large beings, though one was partly obscured by a cloaking field that was beginning to short out. Then, they tumbled out into the clearing: the heavy Arachnica drone locked in mortal struggle with a very large xenomorph praetorian. The xenomorph had the advantage, having flipped the drone onto its back, which was attempting to futilely shoot from its position.
Robert Koening screamed and scrambled into his ship, promptly closing the hatch behind him. Moments later the ship purred into life, its thrusters beginning to become red hot.
The drone lashed out with one of its heavier legs, tripping the praetorian. It flipped right-side up and chittered, reloading its gauss rifle and flechette cannon. She jumped back to her feet and charged at the drone again. It fired, spraying metal shards and a single spike into her chest. The shards stuck into her carapace, the gauss round embedding itself into her shoulder. She screeched, then spun around with the momentum of the spike to bring her tail to bear. The blade slashed across the drone's head, opening up circuitry and electronics.
The Arachnica recoiled, its head split in two. It went into death throes, servos working in a disjointed fashion as the robot died similar to the animal it bore a resemblance to. The praetorian brought its foot up and down hard on the drone's head, thoroughly crushing it, and bellowed in victory. She started towards the human craft.
The forest quieted at the sound of Koening's shuttle took off and zoomed into the sky. She looked up and watched as it grew smaller by the second. The human was gone for good.
The praetorian surveyed her wounds. Most of them were already dissolved by her acidic blood, but she brushed away the shards that had not. The metal barb was another matter, however: it was not being eaten away quickly enough. The problem was that it was stuck in a heavily armored section, where there was no pressurized layer of blood ready to burst out and cover a foe. She grabbed and attempted to yank it out, but hissed loudly in pain; the spike did not want to come out the way it had came. She grit her teeth, resolving to do the only sensible thing.
Her screech echoed through the forest when she forced the spike all the way through her shoulder and out the other side.
/ / / /
Within Koening's ship lay many compartments. Most were filled with food, supplies, tools for industrial espionage, but a few held a more morbid cargo. Kept in a state of stasis by bands encircling them, there lay seven flesh colored pods with four closed petals. Some function was triggered as the shuttle had been activated, and the bands injected one last concoction of pharmaceuticals designed to keep the eggs in a state of hibernation for a short while.
Inside, tiny lives began to stir, dimly aware that a host was nearby. But for now, they would sleep.
/ / / /
He felt better now. His body had ceased burning, which had subsided into a dull ache. Now, he was hungry more than anything. He did not know it, but he had not eaten anything solid for well over a month. The last thing that might even constitute a meal was the soup of intravenous vitamins, minerals, and medicine he was fed in the medtank directly after being woken up from the hypersleep capsule. He did not know how long ago it was now that he had eaten, but for certain the hunger in the pit of his stomach told him it was now time to eat.
Tyver looked around at his surroundings. In the corner he had decided to nap in, there was that water fountain with its incessant dripping. He had examined the trough, finding that the source of the water actually came from under it, then wondered why there would that constant drip-drop-drip-dropping from the ceiling. Annoyed, he had spat at the offending hole in the wall. He had then wondered as the clear spittle had hardened into a black resin, sealing the leak. How he had done this, he did not know. Perhaps some latent instinctual process was activated. Regardless, it was pretty cool while the novelty lasted.
Looking towards the other sides of the large box he was in, there was a great multi-tiered structure with many openings in it. Tyver imagined it was for playing in, maybe. The ceiling was bare, though there were what looked to be hatches that would open here and there. In the opposite corner of the chamber was a huge door, and seemed to be the only way in or out of here, but on a second look-over he noticed that were actually many smaller doors in other walls. If he had to guess though, the huge door would be the main way in or out of here. He was not sure of the lighting though, since his vision was no longer through human eyes; it was dark as midnight, yet at the same time bright as noon day. It was a curious phenomenon that he would later relate to his friends as being a boon and a curse since one never knew the time just from looking at the sky, night and day no longer holding much meaning.
His stomach rumbled. The boy-turned-xeno sighed as he sat on his haunches next to the water trough. Then, a light turned on. He could see the rays coming from the source as if they were from a candle in a dark room. It was coming from the center of the room, on top of the jungle gym. It was a deep purple color with accents of blue as it shimmered. Tyver stood up and began to walk towards it. He had to climb over and under and through various obstacles to reach his target.
As he approached the light on top of the structure, it began blinking in the shape of a hand. He wondered at it for a moment, then placed hid hand over the light. A loud buzz sounded, and two slats in the wall across from him opened up, each revealing a large robotic arm pushing the contents into his room. One had a generous portion of bloody red meat that had been cut up and served. The other revealed a frightened deer-like creature that, at first sight of Tyver, released a high-pitched whine and bounded into the structure to hide.
At the flight of the quarry, something in Tyver's brain was triggered. He dropped down into a crouch, sniffed deeply, and saw the outline of where the beast lay cowering, some three levels below. His electromagnetic sense had been unlocked, the human consciousness now taking advantage of his alien body. He shook his head a couple times, rubbing where he guessed his temple might have been. He tried to clear the image of the deer from his vision, but failed. He could still smell it. He began to salivate a generous amount. Tyver instead looked at the platter of meat, then pushed off the platform with energy he did not know he had. In three bounds, he was tearing into the meat, the fact that it was raw not registering in his mind. The taste was sublime.
His famine dispelled but not quite abolished, he turned his eyes toward the tube in which the deer creature hid, hoping to not be noticed. With a screeching roar, Tyver set upon the beast and sank his teeth into its neck, savoring the lifeblood as it filled his maw.
/ / / /
Darkarlov watched the feed of the grisly business that the boy had engaged in from his control desk. The killer instinct of the xenomorph was quite apparent. It had translated from the Serum they had used to transform him. Now the question was whether other inherent traits were also present.
Ben was allowed to participate in the batteries of tests that were planned to evaluate the subject's intelligence, reasoning skills, and if his humanity was still intact. It was a rare opportunity to be away from the confines of his quarters or on the now defunct track in which new participants were subjected to the Serum. He was relishing every moment of his newfound freedom, and the authority he had over the project that they were running.
It appeared that the young praetorian had finished his meal. He began stalking back towards the water trough, presumably to wash up.
"Run the light program," the Professor said to a technician below him. He then pressed the button for the intercom to the Box, as the other Maximus employees were calling the holding cell that the boy-turned-xeno resided within. "Congratulations. You have survived a terrifying ordeal that has claimed the lives of numerous others. But now the real challenge will be proving to us that you're still in there."
The xenomorph stopped and cocked his head at the sound, listening.
"We are going to conduct a simple test involving the same kind of light as the one you just activated. The game is simple: find each light and turn them on in the sequence of the rainbow." He got to the water and began to clean himself of the gore.
"Start whenever ready." At this, multiple lights lit up at the same time at points across the Box. The response? The boy slunk into one of the tubes within the jungle gym and promptly fell asleep.
Darkarlov sighed. He took his finger off the intercom.
"Perhaps we should let him contact us. Can you set up that hologram display over by where he is sleeping? Right there, next to the water. There we go. First thing he should see upon waking up. Assuming he still knows his letters, we'll be able to communicate."
The Professor felt happy for the first time in two years. He finally had some meaningful work to do. Perhaps now death would not be the highlight of his day while the young person in the Box still lived.
/ / / /
Jessica Helial found her husband sitting at the living room table of their small quarters, head buried in hands. When the hiss of the sliding door announced her arrival into their humble abode, he sniffed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands.
"Hello love," Marrek said with a slight smile, standing up.
"Hullo," Jessica replied back. She came over to him and kissed him, embracing him in a tight hug. "You're supposed to be in bed," she said into his shoulder.
"I know, I know. I had to get up and move around."
She broke the hug and looked up into his face. "That didn't look like moving around there on the table."
Marrek paused and looked far away in that moment. "I was thinking about the last mission, with that freighter." He looked at his wife. "Seventeen. There were seventeen of them." A tear fell from the corner of his eye. "We didn't have to. Why? Why did we sign up for this?"
Jessica wiped away the tear with her thumb, a knowing sorrow marking her visage as she stared into her conflicted husband's face. "Come on. Let's get you back to bed. I've got another painkiller for you."
They made their way back to the bedroom, and she administered the medicine. In a few short minutes Marrek was asleep once again. Jessica sighed, and then went to the holoscreen in the front room to read reports from the day.
One in particular caught her eye. It was a notice asking for volunteers to head the new forward outpost Maximus intended to set up in the mountain range twelve miles away. One would have nearly the same luxuries they enjoyed on base, it would seem: a matter processor; slightly smaller barracks with a full armory; cafeteria unit with the same kind of food fabricator at the main installation; vehicle bay; and a drone bay. Not to mention the large volume of scientific equipment to be placed into the laboratory. It seemed like a pretty good deal.
Then she noticed the fine text towards the end of the notice. "The local xenomorph hive is located within a two mile radius of the proposed facility. Hazard pay is available and your Maximus insurance can be upgraded to provide for any potentiality."
Jessica sighed and flipped through some more reports before retiring for the evening. Four o'clock in the morning came early.