DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. I do not own Alien/Aliens or the materials associated with the film/novels franchise. What I do own is this story in part or whole, the plot and set-up of the plot, and original characters that came with it.

The Captor, the Captive and the Captivated
1-1: Incognito

Year 2094, September 15
(Private) Weyland-Yutani Corporation Deep-Space Research and Development facility, Arizona, United States

To my dismay, I've spent the last five months at the Weyland-Yutani's facility doing nothing but meagre and redundant things (if anything, I'm closer to growing my hair past my chest!).

I'm no closer to confirming why or how Julian has been distant with me nor have I made up my mind about whether I should be going on the Covenant at all. But I have been working closely with the rest of its crew.

When I first got here, Karine was the first to approach me; she handed me $100 and she did it in front of her husband too. He was desperate for an explanation, but it was amusing to keep it a secret from him. I did promise that the money will go into the local county's Church fund and he literally just "thanked Jesus". Captain Branson, however, has been a naughtiest rascal of all of them; he made damn sure that I was the only person to ever get the most workout than the rest of them, despite knowing that I wasn't going to join them.

Yes, I've had to do much of the endurance training because of him. I've even arranged my ketogenic diet to suit it and in doing so, shed over 10 pounds of fat to make way for muscles—though I was already at the safe range of BMI level before.

It seems that Tennessee Faris (the future pilot of the colonisation ship) was the only one who doesn't understand the whole idea of 'maintaining good fitness' (or the purpose of simply keeping good, healthy shape) for the sake of space travel. He's been telling me one of his jokes about it; "I haven't been losing weight but soon enough, doll, weight's gonna lose me!" I knew that he was referring to zero gravity in space and that makes me smile whenever I feel a little depressed about my own personal mission here.

In fact, the more I spent time with this motley crew, the more attached I became to each one of them. Their charming personalities are starting to grow on me and it's highly persuasive.

While I was preparing for a life-long mission out of space anyway, there's still a kind of gravity that lets my heart sink deeper into Earth at the same time. I feel defunct now that my mother has died; she would make these choices so much easier to choose from, regardless of the dire sacrifices or substantial reward to be had. It is at this constantly conflicting junctures of thinking that I truly feel the loss of her presence. It's affecting me in ways where I set lose my thoughts more recklessly nowadays and when I do, the world fades into nothing but white noise. It almost seems as if I was still in mourning, as if she'd only just died.

Now I've settled into thinking that I was nothing but a tree in the middle of a glorious hurricane with winds trying to separate me from my roots.

My head is no doubt with the Covenant, but not my heart.

"This machine is way too big to be a normal cold storage unit!" I start to the sound of the mechanics going through the metal panels and steel bars in front of me; one of them is inspecting the rivets, nuts and bolts of the machine that they had just installed. He laughs, "But it's still pretty impressive!"

I need to stop spacing off.

"It's not just cold storage. This serves as a life support machine for the embryos, but also a cryopod just as well," I explain.

"How did you manage to create this?"

"Oh, it wasn't me. It was my mother and her team's invention. I had no part in it!"

He studies me for a second.

I study him back. His name is Rico Hernandez and he's much smaller, shorter than me—that makes it easier for him to squeeze between machines, I suppose! He's tanned, but his round face is nearly smudged altogether in grease and motor oil (not that he seemed to mind!). And that filthy emerald green jumper isn't flattering on him, too.

As he snickered, he wipes his face with his sleeve; "Oh, I get it!" he's laughing even louder now, "You're just the middleman then!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nah, I's just wonderin' why I didn't recognise you before… You're only here to send this thing off, right? You're not actually going to spend almost 20 years in space just to get somewhere?"

I wonder what gave me away?

"Yes," I cross my arms to my chest, "I'm just a middleman—woman. I'm sending this baby into space so I could have fun here on Earth."

He doesn't react to my teasing—I think because my face doesn't look like joking, I suppose.

"R-right… Let me just make sure all the wires and pipes are connected properly before I leave you to it," and he resumes work immediately.

Whenever I watch the people here go off to work like this, with barely time to spend on chit chats, you can actually feel time ticking away.

Everyone is extremely pressured to complete the ship on schedule for its first in-orbit flight; the last ship that meant such a great deal to the Weyland Industries – named Prometheus – was completed within a year and everyone wanted to top that score. But this is a bigger ship (and probably with an even bigger mission!) after all. Not only that, because of my last minute addition, I've had to go through every single check-up of my machine's installation for fear that it will render my mission – no, our mission – hopeless.

In any case, today is supposed to be the final check-up—the ship's AI system has been delayed long enough and it's now rearing too close to the in-orbit flight test. That's why I'm just as excited as everyone else to see this ship hovering in space. But at the same time, I'm frightened of any possible ill-prospect that might come with it now that my machine is installed.

So I have been actively watching these workers fuss around with my machine.

I lean against one of the steel casing of the galley in the ship's embryonic cryo-chamber with Hernandez and his men working, and start to ponder on something. Then I check the time.

Half–past three.

"Aren't you curious at all about the cargo?" I ask him suddenly.

"It's prolly just a bunch of babies, right?"

I don't think he's right to call it 'just a bunch of babies'. They're so much more than that—animals or humans!

"They're mostly consisted of extinct species of animals, but they are some common farm animals too," I reply with furrowed eyebrows.

"Even fishes?"

"What do you think?" I sigh as I continue to watch him like a hawk. "I can't possibly be sending turtles and not have the food they need to create a stable ecosystem!"

"How can you know if the turtle doesn't already have food there?"

I shrug. "I can't."

He shrugs back and proceeds to smirk as he tightens some bolts.

"There is such a thing called faith and preparation, you know," I somehow feel the need to influence him. "I can only assume that there must be corals there because on Earth corals are ancient and this planet is old enough to produce them. I can only hope that it has housed some animals—fishes or not. If we introduce turtles to it for example, we're not sure if the fishes there – if there is any – would be edible for the turtles. It's much safer to bring the typical fish prey just in case it doesn't suit the turtle. All things considered, it is better that we maintain whatever bio-diversity the planet currently has for its lifeforms."

"So it doesn't make sense to me to bring these animals—what if they become extinct there too?"

"At the moment, we are aware that the extinction of these particular animals are due to human intervention. This planet doesn't have humans – obviously – so we could actually start over with these species over there."

"Then why do you need to bring the species that are quarry for the animals?"

"If what you mean is that you want them to adapt to the surroundings there, well, I didn't say that that wasn't possible!"

He snorts.

"We simply have to try this out so that we'll know for sure. If all we had were untested theories, we'd all have a degree!"

He smiles a little. "I do have a degree!"

"I know. The executives told me that no mechanics or technicians here are without a degree in electrical engineering."

He laughs at that. "And here I thought you're lecturing me because you think I'm beneath you!"

"Nonsense!" I look at my watch and smile back. "I was simply testing you!"

"You got some place to be?"

"No, but I'm wondering when we'll get this over with…"

"This is one of the last items on our to-do list. But give us an hour or so! We'll need to do another check-up with it before the system goes online—since this baby alters the ship's design!" he twists his arm strongly all of the sudden and makes a face. "Why don't you just go around and check things out?"

I nod.

After I'm sure he's done the oxygen supply pipes, I start to wander off in the almost-complete ship.

It's a quarter to four now and my stomach is squirming.

Ever since my arrival at the facility, I have taken to studying the ship's blueprints and maps for hours on end. So I know exactly where I needed to go next.

I stare hesitantly at the door before me. It was labelled R-8-1.

I've always liked the number eight—even more so now because it looks like the infinity symbol and this is a ship heading off to space. I've had to flash my ID card on the sensor by the door's side, considering the system is still offline, and the metallic door slides open smoothly.

The room reminds me a lot of the photos from the first space hotel on Luna. It's essentially a suite room with an attached toilet (no shower or bath since there is already a common facility allocated elsewhere), a bed, a wardrobe/drawer (hidden beneath the TV screen), a wall mounted table and an armchair by a hexagon-shaped window (which would be framing breath-taking views of space soon enough!). Every furniture is functional. It's all of the same grey colour too—just different shades for different angles or things. It could even be mistaken for a luxurious prison for all I care.

I've noticed that the bed was a queen size—this is supposed to be a couple's room after all. If Julian is going on his own, he's going to have plenty of space.

I chuckle at that.

As I pace around the room, I laugh about it.

Then I sit on the armchair. Still laughing.

Till I feel tears dripping down my cheeks.

I sigh.

The truth is, I'd always prefer to think he would be suffering and miserable if he goes with this anyway. But the present reality conflicts with me.

I know he'll have someone with him, someone I always knew he has always loved, someone meant for someone like him. Her existence in this plane called life will always make me realise how much of a mistake this marriage was. Sometimes I feel like I was the one he cheated with and not on. In an essence, I still believe that very much…

Rowena is the only girl on his mind and the only reason why he never married her was because his family refuses to acknowledge her (don't ask me why they still hold on to such dated traditions—perhaps it's the British aristocracy talking!). She was Julian's childhood friend—inseparable, I'm told. They've hooked up before, but his parents didn't encourage it. They didn't like her not for any bad attitude or habitual quirks, but rather for her profession of routinely harassing and criticising other people (in other words, she's a journalist).

If it hadn't been for her work, she'd fit the bill for his wife: witty, rich and tall and gorgeous. She has legs stretching on for miles and the elongated curvatures that would rival a primal insect (okay, I admit that was harsh!). Her luscious blonde hair matches his own, but her green eyes are always striking like Neptune on the cusp of Jupiter. Something about her wonderful olive skin makes most men thinks it's spelt the same way as 'caramel', too.

She's my exact opposite.

Like I said, I was the one who proposed, but it wasn't for some pathetic, one-sided romantic gesture.

Both of us needed each other's help.

Hastings Ltd has been pressured by Weyland Industries back then to acquire at least one scientific branch to add to its mainly construction backbone in order for there to be a viable partnership between them. My mother was pressured by Weyland Industries because they wanted to acquire her conservation technology (particularly regarding the method to obtaining DNA from old animal bones and to maintaining cellular integrity of these DNA in her special machine).

Weyland had been hounding my mother to sell since the day she broke the news of the creation of her machine (and the successful reintegration of the extinct animals into the wild), but she didn't want to join Weyland just yet. By joining her company with Hastings Ltd however, she killed two birds with one stone—she got Weyland off her back and yet gained a big partner in the corporate world without sacrificing a limb.

Just before she died though, she revealed that she refused to join Weyland only because she wanted to make sure that she joined the giant corporation with a perfected creation—she was never one who does work halfway or half-arsed. She wanted to be recognised for perfection every time. I suppose she and Mr Weyland have that in common.

Once the company is merged together, it was easy for Julian to win his parents' hearts by marrying me—if only they know that I was the one who proposed, not him. I suppose he was a coward then and he still is now.

I clench my fists on the edge of the armrests.

It seems all the females in my family are doomed to marry miserable men! Would girls like Rowena be having it easy? In fact, she stayed single since she broke up with Julian in high school. God, she could've had anyone! Why can't she have suffered the same way I have?

Who am I kidding? I will never wish my misery upon someone else…

I startle to the sound of my watch's alarm. It was now a quarter past four.

I get up from the chair and give the room one last look. To think I was never planning on leaving Earth despite all of this. To think I would be none the wiser. To think I'll be letting Julian get away with it… What in Hell was I thinking?

As I walk out, I choose to pass by the cryosleep hall again and find that Hernandez is still checking on my machine. But I tell him that I was still touring the ship and leave him to work.

I look up to the ceiling as I exit. It really does look like the inside of a building!

This is where Rowena and 1,999 other people will be hung in cryopods, awaiting to greet a new planet by the time they wake up from cryosleep.

I only found out about her joining the ship when a friend of mine, Erika Sugimoto, who has been running Yutani Corporation's scientific development division, showed me a list full of the colonists' details. For obvious security reasons, the list revealed no names, but it stated the gender, age, nationality, place of birth and profession (or rather, qualification) of all the colonists. Rowena was the only 25 year old journalist who I know was British but was born in Mali.

I knew instinctively then that she was definitely the one Julian has been seeing behind my back—the pieces of the puzzle falls into place so perfectly. I suppose it helps him a lot to cheat with her that we only ever slept together on the first night of our wedding.

I trace my hands along each empty cryopods and sigh. Then I go there.

Julian and I have our own parts to play in each other's life—for this purpose, we had to look like the perfect young couple. As a terraformist, he goes off to check equipment with Captain Branson's wife nearly all day long. As a man, he goes off to the mess hall nearly all night long—alcohol is restricted to several ounces, but gambling is not. As it is, it was very hard for him to squeeze some time off to see me or to see his 'girlfriend'.

With eyes everywhere, he had to be very discreet.

But he hadn't considered just how easy it would be for me to trace his footsteps. I found out his hidden schedule because I mimicked him in every way; I asked everyone how to be discreet about doing something (had to come up with a lie: that I had a fetish that needed release! Hilarious!) and where would be the best place to do it. Of course, he probably tells them he wants extra booze or a cigarette maybe. And it helps that everyone in different parts of the ship's construction have different break times, too—that's about the only time he's got to see her.

So these workers have been telling me that the terraforming bay (where all the vehicles and equipment are due to be stowed) has no monitoring system—only the hanger bay where it opens to has. There is even a resting area in it that is also soundproof. Sounds like the perfect place to cheat your wife in, isn't it?

I was lucky that Erika has shown me access to her office/laboratory too. She was a classmate – roommate, actually – from Oxford University, back when she studied nano-biology and we grew close very easily (she's bisexual, so I'm not sure if the attraction was physical!). She was glad to see me in this facility and tried to talk me through into going with Julian on this mission. Amongst other things, she even showed me a prototype of a listening device and it was just too fortuitous for me to ignore. I sneaked one out of her office and placed it in the break room yesterday. As long as I'm within 20 meters proximity with the device, I can listen to it via an earpod.

Now I have to find a good hiding spot while everyone in the terraforming bay goes off for a 30 minutes break.

I spot a small opening between two piping structure outside the room and sit there in the dark.

Waiting. Expecting.

Time is ticking. It's almost five now.

Julian must be doing this today. He should already be here by now—he sees her at intervals during the week. The last time I suspected he saw her was two days ago. They were due to see each other again.

I can't believe I actually want this.

Just when it was close to the end of break time, I hear the sound of laughter through the earpod. It's a she.

"Hold on!"

I hear the sound of the door closing and a click, then a buzzing—the blinds closing.

"I'm sure you don't want anyone to catch us."

"Yes, thank you, peaches!"

Ew. Thank God we had never gotten close enough to establish nicknames for one another.

"Where were you just now?" Julian complains.

"I was—at the seminar—with the rest of the—colonists."

The kissing sounds just keeps on coming (pun not intended!).

"Uh-huh. Well, go on, then. Get naked."

"Strip me."

I bite my lip. That's right—Rowena was always the sexy one. The one who could demand attention whenever she so pleases!

I continue to ignore the sounds of suckling and moaning.

"Mmm. You taste like heaven…"

"And do you miss heaven?"

"Mmm. Terribly!"

"Naughty boy! You're already stiff!"

"Been holding back too long! Come on, we haven't got much time! I need to be inside you!"

"Alright, married man! Put it in!"

That was perhaps too much. What a bitch!

I feel my heart rip.

"Ah, yes! Oh, fuck yes!"

"Say you love me, Julian!"

"Rowena, you know I've always loved you!"

"Ha-Harder! Go on! Come!"

I throw the earpod across the bay where it bounces off a control panel and rolls along the metal floor. My vision is blurred. My heartbeat is quickening.

But I need to know this. I need to face this.

With drenched cheeks, I get up to collect the earpod back. I give them a few seconds before putting it back on.

"I still don't think this is fair to your wife, darling."

"She'll be fine."

"I know that… she's much stronger than I'll ever be."

"How do you mean?"

"She always finishes what she starts—no matter how badly it makes her feel. She's never half-arsed about it. Always diligent and efficient."

Julian doesn't say a word, but a kiss resounds.

"But you're the one that I want."

"Well, let's not forget I'm not the one your family wants."

"Once we're off this planet, their opinion matters no more."

"Are you going to divorce her?"

"Not here, not now. I need to do it off-planet. That way neither of us – or any of us – would get the blame."

Rowena finds that funny. "So you'll blame space?"

"I blame the stars."

I hold back a sob.

"Be kind to her. She's not actually a bad person," she sounds so sincere I almost sympathised. "And I'm not one who's proud to become a homewrecker!"

"You're not! Neither is she! My home is just… already wrecked as it is."

Oh, boo-hoo, Julian! Blame it on your parents—why don't you?

"Well then, I'd like to think she is just at the wrong place and time."

Julian says nothing to that.

That's when I start to crouch in a corner and cry. I don't think of anything else but just the need to let my emotions run wild for that moment alone.

Then I wait once again.

I hear them whisper about an overdue tour of the ship, but they still leave the room separately. Once they are gone long enough and as I gain several odd looks from the workers (for my reddened and swollen face, no doubt!), I retrieve the listening device.

As I walk through the ship's hull and decks, I wipe my face frequently with the end of my sleeves. Now it was wet through and through.

Suddenly I remembered.

"But where will I go now?" the fear of bumping into them made me squirm deeper into my heart.

There is one place they won't ever go.

I head straight for it.

Author's Notes: Finally. This scene was longer than I expected it to be, but there is a reason for it. I needed to establish Aine's relationship with her husband and develop her "work before all else" attitude in life.

I changed the rating to M just in case (for cussing and sexual references lol!). Please let me know what you think, alright?

June 7 - Final edits included! Fixed syntax and some small plot bolts. lol