[39 years ago]
Lance dragged a woman by her hair through corridors, while an alarm echoed in the above floors.
Gagged with a belt, 2 broken ribs, an eye swollen shut. Dr. Dahle moaned away, desperate. She was pleading, Lance knew.
But for that woman, the Girl had no sympathy. No compassion. No mercy.
The Doctor (head of the department and leader of the Hybridization program, sadistic in scientist disguise) was trying to appeal to the Blacks Ops Agent human side - a side Dahle had a hand in bleeding dry.
The Girl had no idea what she was going to find once she got to the Hunter's enclosure. But Dahle had all but begged for the Girl to come back - it was bound to be bad.
And oh boy, bad held no weight to describe the horror that took her once they passed the emergencial membrane that isolated the Hunter's unlit enclosure.
The smell of alien blood - his blood - was overwhelming.
Lance kicked Dahle's knee hard enough to make walking an excruciating endeavor and crossed the room. The computer with mainframe access was placed in a desk in the far corner of that room, and the Girl connected a small device there, opening yet another channel for Breacher. She turned the lights there on, squinting with the sudden assault of the lights on her eyes.
You motherfucker, you think I can't see tou trying to escape…
Lance marched back, straight to Dahle, who started to panic. She dragged the woman closer to the operating table that held the Yautja. The Girl threw the woman to the floor, kicked her face, and with a fluid movement draw the pistol and shot the scientist's knee.
"Huuunnngghnnn", came a loud, gagged moan of pain.
But Lance couldn't care less for the woman's pain. The Hunter reacted badly, fighting against his restraints, fucking up even more his injuried body. The Girl felt a pang of guilt.
Of course, he doesn't know it's me. And even if he knew…
Lance had Oiled her whole body to mask her scent ( she had hybrids to deal with later), and was dressed in full special agent armor and garments: which included a helmet and mask covering the lower half of her face, which she promptly removed.
"Shh, shhh…"
That brought the Hunter to a halt. Even so Lance didn't try to reach and touch him, as she would have.
(As she had done so many times)
Still pointing a gun to Dahle, she raised her other hand high, showing the palm. A clear sign of non aggressive intent.
"Hey, it's me", came the voice of the Girl.
Please, please… it's me. Can you recognize me?
The Girl stepped closer to his head, after his eyes fixed on her face. He was still now, thankfully, because they didn't had much time. Her mind went straight into combat-medic-and-field-surgeon mode.
"Fuck me, what did they do… ", her voice sounded pained.
The Girl choked, looked back at the Doctor, who now tried to scramble away. Lance let her carry on, until it was a good 10 feet away from them. Raised her hun and shot the other leg. A third shot went straight to the left foot.
"If I hear you moving, I will amputate one of your legs with my fucking gun, you fucking monster".
Desperate moaning-and-crying ensued.
On Lance's left wrist, an alarm went off in her gauntlet, beeping twice.
"Goddammit."
The Cradle was maneuvering, the dropship with her team would soon leave the deck.
She looked back to the Hunter.
"I'm releasing you."
And she went about that task with a practiced precision that got him off his mechanical restraints in less than 2 minutes. The neural inhibitor, responsible for cutting the Hunter's control and awareness of his body were still engaged though.
"Your arm?", Lance had to ask.
She never expected an answer from him - the Hunter had never uttered a single word to her. But she could read some of his reactions by now. Depending on his response, she would choose her next move.
" Take. Off." He snarled. It was hard to engage with his vocal skills after years of refusing to do it. Those words came out more growls than clean sound.
The Girl blinked, clearly shocked. She didn't had time to over analyze it, however. Their time was running out.
And a well-armored-and-armed Girl went for a shelf blindly - so used she was with everything in that room - and came with two boxes.
She retrieved a syringe, four flasks and focused on work.
"Fuck me, the controls for your inhibitors are fried." And she dove behind his head. She would need to adjust them manually.
"I will cut your body awareness to amputate your arm" the Girl warned without preamble.
Next thing, she was garroting his left forearm, two inches below the elbow.
" This will hold off local pain after the procedure", she explained, showing him the syringe, stabbing him next.
"Off!" He gestured with his head to his upper arm.
"No! Above your elbow is salvageable. You will need it."
The Hunter didn't fight her on that. Maybe it was the relief he felt once he saw her. The trust he had in her.
How can you still trust me, you idiot…
The Girl steadied herself for the next part. It would be easy work - and he wouldn't feel anything anyway.
In no time she had sawed it off, clean and fast. (It looked more like butcher work than a proper amputation).
"Fuck me, I never felt so happy about my Field Surgeon training" Lance mumbled and went to retrieve the necessary stuff to protect the stomp and dress it properly.
"Quiet!" He snarled a warning, while she went about patching him up. That facility had been heavily guarded and the Yautja was probably worried about the security personnel.
"The guards are dead", she explained "and the facility is locked down".
The Hunter inhaled deeply, snarling when she started to clip the incisions in his upper arm.
Clack, clack, clack.
"There was no skin salvageable to cover the cut", the Girl mumbled. She took a gel and a plaster from the smaller box. He knew those. She had used a good number on him.
She dressed the stub with all the care her haste allowed. Jabbed him twice, with different syringes that she retrieved from the same box.
"That should keep infections at bay."
And she dove down, under the operation table, to unplug the neural inhibitors. That was when she saw Dahle still trying to slither her way out.
"Stay the fuck down, bitch, I can see you crawling", she yelled to Dahle.
Not that the Doctor could move very fast with both legs shot, and a useless foot. Yet, Lance idn't want her out of sight
"Don't stand fast, please. You might pass out", the Girl said to the Hunter, once his inhibitors were disabled.
Lance esses him contracting his muscles, testing his control over his own body. And sat up.
The Hunter was free.
Lance climbed over the table. Beside him. She reached behind herself, opened a side zipper on her harnesses and pulled something out.
"I don't know if this one is yours. The other two individuals who were captured with you are dead. They disassembled two of those masks…" She explained while handing him the bio-mask. "… and preserved the third. I hope you can use it".
As luck would have it, no, it was not his, but he didn't bother to tell her.
Lance retrieved more bandages, and went about finishing her job. With a curt movement he tried to get away.
"Hey, we have no time to discuss this big guy, I will bandage you and fix a makeshift sling."
"No" the snarl came almost like a threat.
She grabbed his neck with one hand, determined to bandage the freaking alien. "We don't have time to argue, goddamnit!"
"No", the word roared in her face. Fear and his bad temper be damned, she was doing this.
"You will need to claw away your way out!" She screamed back! He blinked, shocked. Lance had never reacted that way in his presence, but truth to be told, the pressure to get him safely away in time to not screw up her team's assault was grating her sanity.
The next moment she was climbing his back, securing herself with one leg, pressing his side, and forced bandages on him.
Wasting no time with philosophical musings, Lance made the worst makeshift sling of her life (which was not bad, given the circumstances), trying to immobilize what was left of his arm to his dorso.
Meanwhile the Hunter was still in shock with the boldness of the little pest. But snapped out of it quickly - once she held his tressers, brushing them to one side of his neck.
"Stop fucking trashing, I need to take the implants on your fucking neck, and I only have 39 minutes." She retorted to use a leg to steady herself onto his torso.
"Why?" The sound was a exasperated growl.
"Why what?"
She unplugged the external connectors.
"Why. Arrre. You. Herrrrre."
That made her pause. Yeah, Lance could say "freeing your scaly ass", but she knew better.
"I'm not free to do as I choose, and I can't explain much. What I can tell you is that they are splicing together your DNA with xenomorphs, to create wardogs."
There was a dark, mean, vengeful growl crawling up his chest.
"They are creating abominations?" Was a rhetorical question, made in his own language. Lance didn't understand a single word, but by the sound of it, she could tell he was feeling deeply violated.
"But right now, I'm freeing you. So you can get away. Get away of this fucking planet", she reached for a spatula.
"No."
The Girl had this feeling that the Hunter was about to burn his life to exact retribution.
"Remember when I told you about the facility? The surroundings?"
The Hunter went rigid. Uncertain. Of course he did, but…
Lance saw the exact moment when it clicked for him.
Months ago. Days ago. Most of her monologues were not idle chatter. She was giving him information. Vital information about the location. About the planet.
"I will lead you half the way out of the facility. After that you will keep going, in the dorms direction, and cross to the woods".
She relayed all information about the facility, in rich details. Lance was positive he could navigate easily across all buildings and the surrounding area.
"Did you understand? Keep going down the path. There is a breadcrumb trail for you."
"Brrredcrrrunbs?", he tried to repeat the word.
It was the best analogy Lance could find for the bloody trail she left for him.
"Yep. Corpses. Follow them until you get to the wall. That's the path I made to come in. After that you find the south direction and go. And keep going. The proto-community is located about seven miles away, if you keep south. You can't miss it. "
Because of the smell. The garbage. The damage to the environment. All things the Girl had described during their days together.
The Girl inhaled.
Ok, Lance, calm down. He needs to be able to walk… You can't fuck up his spinal nerves.
"This will hurt". She repositioned herself, in an angle where she had full view of the implants in the holes on his neck, and shoved a spatula down, on his left hole. The Hunter barely had a moment to register what she had said before he felt as if something had punctured his very soul, and then rubbed salt all over it. It hurt like hell.
The Yautja roared in pain (enhanced by confusion, anger and months of mounting rancor towards humans).
Lance's spirit almost left her body.
"What the hell! Those need to come off! I can't numb this, or you won't be able to walk." She screamed back, fear making her sound frantic.
The Yautja mind was spiraling. And the Girl could understand why.
"I'm sorry. It's… the time. We don't have long. Ok… one more and you are free.", she tried to sound gentle.
She looked at him, and waited for his signal. The Yautja nodded almost immediately.
Then came the same piercing white hot pain. On the other side of his neck.
Lance pocketed the pieces she had just extracted from his neck.
"You?", he growled his query.
"I'm going to wipe this facility."
There was no easy way to say it. And they didn't have any time for it, anyways.
Oh no, please. You can't stay… I can't let you stay…
The Girl was watching the yautja like someone watching a large cat crouching before attacking. She could almost see his whole body rippled with indignation and anger.
Lance somewhat knew that anger. She had been trapped torturing someone she grew attached to, without a way out.
"You are in no condition. I barely rehabilitate you, and they…" A long, deep breath was needed before she went on. "I thought I would be able to prevent any new experiments until I got you out."
Lance peered at him, trying to find his gaze. He was drifting, getting lost in fiery hatred, years of torture boiling what was left of his reason.
"Hey… Hey! Looked at me".
Once the Hunter locked eyes with her, she sighed again. Almost immediately regretting inventing his stare.
"I'm sorry. I'm not free to do as I choose. I thought about killing you in the second month… to free you. I… I have no excuse. "
The Girl made a pause, steading herself.
"I let you suffer because I…I need to get you out. You are fucking getting out. Do you understand?", she pleaded and looked down to her wrist, checking the time. The timer was synced with the dropship, marking how much time was left before it touched the ground.
Well, Lance had time to keep analyzing her broken self, or for more apologies. She gestured towards Dahle.
"That piece of shit is the lead of one project. It's not her original theory though. She was hired to turn theory into reality. She and four other bio-engineers. They are installed in other facilities, in different planners".
The Girl reached to her left leg, retrieving a combat knife.
"I will trace any remaining experiments with your DNA and wipe those as well. But I don't choose my missions. I put you through that because you can choose. You can recover. I've watched you recover from gruesome things they did… you recovered mass and movement in almost no time. You can recover. Shit, you are hundreds of years old. I can only do so much… and if you wish it, you can wipe them all. But not today."
Lance closed her eyes. That next part was not going to be easy.
"I…I didn't wish for any of it. I didn't design any of those horrible things. But I allowed you to live through them and I'm sorry. I really thought I would be able to shield you from Dahle upon her return. But I was wrong."
And because of that, she had to amputate his left forearm. She looked down, and started to cry.
"Goddammit, not now…"
The Girl sniffled, and looked at the timer, shook her head and jumped off the table. She offered him the handle of her knife.
"You should do the honors. I don't need her."
XXX
[Present time]
Happy as a clam, Charlie was finishing his whiskey while organizing his backlog.
He had just received a request from a fellow broker to discuss a collaboration. Those were uncommon, but usually involved large efforts, hence the necessity of collaboration. Which also meant fat commissions.
They agreed to discuss the details at his colleague's home over dinner. Charlie had 5 hours to organize his work, get ready and sober up.
XXX
"Hey Dad", the Girl was sitting on a window, one leg inside and the other out, dangling. Her back resting in the window sill.
"Hey kiddo", came the short and awkward greeting. Mile and miles away, in the comfort of the Cradle.
"Guess that's it", she sighed.
"Have you reviewed your retreat protocol? Do you have any questions?"
"I went over it with Mordred", she assured him.
It was quite simple, actually. After the handover, Lance would need to get a transport for one of the 3 safehouses available for her. Make a full report and get set herself into stasis.
Once the next team concluded their mission, they would retrieve her.
No special agent could simply walk back into their headquarters. Only authorized ships were able to deck at the Space Station, however being a Sleeper (the cute nickname her division had for the teams like hers) meant almost no one knew about her - even at the headquarters, she had another identity for the eventual (and heavily discouraged) need to interact with other divisions and use the common areas.
Staying awake was not an option: her command was rightfully paranoid about deflection, and an unsupervised agent was a Jupiter's size liability.
Her command would have months to obsess over her report before they got to debrief her, she surely didn't need another reason to invite suspicions about her behavior.
"Great. And the timeline?", he asked.
"Doable. I will hopefully be asleep in 7 months, but it could take a year. Maybe 14 months. "
Wait for the next team, ease them in, help infiltrating agents among the mercenaries, complete the handover, travel to one safe house, report, cryosleep.
"Let's hope you are still 28 when we meet again", he grumbled.
"Aaawwn Dad! You still will be a decade my senior. That surely guarantees you rights to call me kiddo", she laughed. Dad could almost see her mocking face.
"Lance, don't make me regret my decision", he was not happy with none of it.
"Oh, why? You didn't appreciate my parting gift or something?"
"Everyone will be rightfully drunk for some days", he still sounded grumpy, but let go. With some agents still needing medical attention, they would stay awake for a couple of weeks before easing everyone into stasis.
"That's a good use of dirty money. Please, tell the command I will include it on my expense report".
Lance had bought a ton of liquor and got it to the dropship that landed to retrieve Haze and Ringer. Both agents had been amazed by the amount of alcohol she was able to fit in a single car.
She had got some junk and stuff she knew her mates would appreciate. After all, she had just got paid (the command would most likely yell at her for wasting illegal resources. They would yell at Dad too, but they were both ok with that).
"You better make sure to account for everything you spend on and how much money you will hand to the other team", his tone was more serious now.
"Don't worry, Dad".
"Also, Mordred left a care-package for you in the P.O. box Ringer transferred to you".
The team had handed over all items they were using (if possible). Lance now had plenty resource's, which included guns, equipment, one house Haze set as a safe spot, a container in a deposit (those are still a thing in developing colonies), a safe, some money, contacts.
Unfortunately the only things Lance 'inherited' from Trance were a report listing contacts and details over her activities. She should not get close to anything that had belonged to her teammate in order to preserve her own cover.
Dad ended up allowing 10 minutes of call with the Cradle on speaker. They couldn't keep a safe channel for much longer.
Lance closed her eyes, trying to memorize the sound of their voices, trying to keep her joyful tone. It was an attempt to keep them from worrying and ease the heaviness they felt over leaving her behind.
"Godspeed everyone. See you in a decade, or two", she forced her voice to sound positive and confident.
Lance kept looking at the burner phone after the call ended. That desolation that washed over her, she had felt it before.
Once upon a time, when she left home for the Moon.
XXX
Ah'kaedh held a piece of ooman's garment close to his face, inhaling deeply the scent.
Not fresh, but not exactly estale. Looking around he could observe how much dust had accumulated over things.
The bed was unmade and he sniffed the pillow, after placing the piece of clothing back were he found it.
For the past 11 days he'd made long strides towards his end goal: capturing the (wrong) girl.
The Hunter turned his head, rotating the rest of his body carefully. 225 square feet was small for a human, but for his 8' feet build it was borderline claustrophobic.
(And everything smelled like Her).
He moved carefully, cloaked and silently. Outside was unpleasant in different ways: the stink of the crowded community enerved him. It was way past midnight and faint noises indicated some activity.
The Hunter tried to look for clues of the ooman whereabouts, without much success. He placed small cameras in two different corners, hidden from view. The devices would activate once any movement was detected - the Yautja set the devices to notify the computer on his wrist gauntlet everytime it started to record.
Ah'kaedh discovered this place - the Redidential Cubicles his prey had been using yesterday, after interrogating his last target.
The bloated and old male ooman he captured had precious information.
The Hunter plotted, stalked, ambushed, captured and interrogated a decent number of mercenaries. And currently, under his custody, was the disgusting male who hired that Barbara person.
(Poor Charlie).
All oomans who had contact with that (fake) Girl confirmed: this Barbara was young, not past 30 years old.
The Hunter had known before his brother pointed out the obvious: his Girl was lost to him, and he knew it.
Ah'kaedh was also able to piece together a profile: most oomans described the mercenary as distant, professional, sharp. His Girl was warm and chatty.
There was not much he could gather from the Cubicles. Most personal items were clothes, and nothing there held much character: common and practical garments. He also found some equipment and food stored.
Oh, and guns, but that was no surprise. The fake-girl was a mercenary, it was to be expected.
(His Girl had used guns too. He was sure of it, he remembered it well).
However, his roadblocks ended up working in his favor. Ah'kaedh was now able to set an ambush that would allow him to successfully capture this ooman.
The Hunter just needed to wait for the right questions moment.
XXx
"Barbie-Girl, you finally answered your damn phone", came the very sober voice of what sounded like a very pissed Charlie.
"Hey, how are you Charlie?", (Fake) Barbara managed to hide the irritation and tiredness, and just sounded serious.
"Really, girl? Every time I find you a well paying contract, will you pull a vanishing act? What the fuck?"
Yep. Pissed. And anxious.
"What do you need, Charlie?" More sigh than question.
"Where the fuck are you? I have some urgent packages to deliver".
"I'm in no condition to take any contracts right now", she answered honestly.
"What?", he sounded alarmed.
"I'm in no condition…", she repeated slowly. "… to take any contacts right now".
Something inside her just wanted to tell him to go to hell and hung up in his face, but she couldn't discard him.
"Barbara, I need to be able to count on my contractors…"
"Dude, I'm injured. When I tell you I can't take fucking contracts, it's because I can't.", she cut him, a dry and cold tone to her voice.
That made him pause.
"What happened?" He sounded nervous.
Lance took a deep breath.
"Bullet through my shoulder. I don't think I need to explain to you how those things happen, right?"
She put the right amount of snark and irritation on her delivery to make it clear she was done with that convo.
"I will give you a call when I'm able to hold a gun again, Charlie".
The secret to keep the lies needed to sustain her work as an undercover agent was to fill it with as much truth as possible.
"Are you working with other brokers?", he sounded outraged.
Oh Charlie…
"You will need to pay me better if you want to keep track of my personal business".
A pause.
"If it's money what you want, I have some deliveries…"
Dude, why are you still insisting?
"Charlie, more money won't make me less injured", she kept the same tone, but she was paying extra attention now.
"It's just deliveries. You won't need guns. And I will pay you double".
Come again?
"Charlie, send me the briefings, but I won't do anything in the next couple of weeks. If you still need it delivered by them, I will take the contracts".
And she hung up, without giving him time to say anything else.
Lance waited a bit, imagining he would call again, but no. That was it.
Uhnn… what have you got yourself into Charlie?
Lance placed the phone back on the panel of her vehicle. The Broker had called her at least 4 times for the past 10 days.
Between seeing her crew off and getting shot in the left shoulder, the Girl had been rather busy keeping her promises.
I will trace any remaining experiments with your DNA and wipe those as well. But I don't choose my missions...
39 years ago. That was a long standing promise. She had done it quietly, at every opportunity she had while on her missions. Small actions, concealed from her command and teammates.
Like quietly assassinating lab workers and high management, retrieving and distributing information that could be classified as corporate espionage.
Cutting the organic material supply surely hindered the work with hybrids, but Seizei (and Weyland Yutani by extension) never discarded the research.
She came across some inferior product during the assault on Cardinalis, but that was expected. Her command knew about it, and that was one of the motives they were still working on pursuing the suppliers of alien material.
Those entities would not be able to keep doing research without biological sources, and hopefully that would keep the colonies safe without raising hell against the companies who supplied the governments with guns, ships, drugs (and gave politicians money for their campaigns).
That was not good enough for Lance, tough. Which is why she kept running jobs inside jobs, tiring herself, and piling secrets.
And that is why she couldn't let an opportunity like this one slip.
Lanced looked over her left shoulder. Recovering from that before getting herself out there would be the wise choice, but she didn't had much time. Only some months operating without supervision meant she would need to take some risks.
The Girl opened the car door, stepping outside.
XXX
The two older Yautjas were talking quietly among themselves while Charlie cowered in a chair, sweating bullets even in the mild temperature kept in the command deck.
"I have the localization of the ooman device", Ho'kan announced once Charlie ended the call.
He placed the aerial view on the screen. He was able to triangulate the device using the ooman communications structures.
"Do you know what she could possibly be doing there?" The deep tone of Ah'kaedh voice startled Charlie.
"Wh-What?", the old man stuttered.
Recognizing places by the aerial view was not an easy task, especially nervous.
"Sh-she said she is injured, I don't…", Charlie was trying to give the aliens anything that would make them forget he was even there.
"It's past ooman activity hours", Lar'jar observed in their native tongue. Indeed, it was 11 pm local time.
" Ho'kan, access the oomans databases and do a quick research on what can be found in the area", Ah'kaedh asked, while taping the panel in front of him, giving the ship the commands needed to go to the planet's surface, at safe distance from the city.
"She might leave before you get there", Lar'jar pointed.
"I want to check what is worth a lie. Or an injured shoulder", he replied.
Ah'kaedh was not naive. If that ooman was the mercenary's employer, it would be rather stupid of her to lie about such an injury.
XXX
The whole sector was in the dark. Some buildings had emergency lights, there were security personnel in front of some buildings.
Ah'kaedh, cloacked, moved slowly in the semi-desertic streets of the commercial area of the city.
He had found the vehicle where Ho'kan placed the signal. Suspiciously in the sector where the lights were down.
That couldn't be a coincidence. And whatever that ooman was doing here, the Yautja fully intended to get his hands on her before she could get killed by her own choices.
Which was a fucking challenge given the amount of buildings. 20 blocks in the dark, she could be anywhere.
The blip on Ah'kaedh's gauntlet announced Lar'jar had just sent him a request for communication.
He opened a channel.
"There is a monkey dangling from a building", Lar'jar informed.
"Stay on its tracks, but don't engage".
XXX
When people talk about being quick and clean, they are usually talking to a whole team of agents. But Lance was alone. Clean was paramount, but quick?
No. Lance took her sweet time. She made sure the damage to the energy supply system was extensive enough the maintenance would take some hours.
It took her two days just to set that first step.
Now she needed to dodge the internal security system. Not completely, no. The Girl just needed to be sure she could not be identified.
Getting inside was easy, she used the rooftop entrance. Now getting out? That was the real challenge.
Especially while carrying 50 pounds of extra equipment with a bad shoulder.
XXX
"Something is not right", Lar'jar stated the obvious, since his brother's fixation was in an all time high.
They had caught the tracks of the ooman all right, but when they got to the lower levels, they found a bunch of oomans passed away, or actively affected by some sort of illness.
There were less than 8 oomans there, but the number was high enough for the Medic to be sure that was absolutely not normal.
"Hmm…"
Ah'kaedh grunted, shaking his head.
Shit, it's in the air…
"Activate your mask filter for air purification, now!"
It would cut their ability to capture her scent, but it was better than to inhale whatever was probably circulating.
They were both invisible to the naked eye, but Lar'jar heard the taps on Ah'kaedh's wristgauntled.
The Medic left the tracking for his brother, while he worked with his own equipment to understand whatever was happening.
"What a vile mind. The air is saturated with nitrogen".
Which was odorless, and would asphyxiate the oomans very, very silently (until they start to actively feel ill).
All the concrete prevented them to check any warm bodies on lower or higher levels, and would make readings from one room to another unreliable or impossible (if the wall was made of concrete and not drywall).
"Listen", the younger brother murmured.
"Outside?"
They both got close to the windows in the direction of the sound.
"That weights at least 20% of her own body weight", Lar'jar made a quick analysis of the ooman form carrying 2 large cylinders strapped to her back.
The Girl was going down using ropes, slowly lowering herself from the third floor window.
They were one floor above her.
XXX
Lance touched the ground and held a grunt, wishing for this shit to be over soon.
She adjusted the night vision equipment, and decided to leave the ropes behind.
The Girl wanted the authorities to make a fucking circus, and the more she left behind, the better.
This was one of the Weyland-Yutani's medical labs - specialized reproduction.
During the first centuries of outerspace colonization, ships would take tons of embryos. It seemed like a good idea at the time (which created a whole lot of social problems, but no one was thinking about that during that time).
However the company didn't waste years of research and technology- they simply redirected it to human reproduction. Nowadays, rich people were not only able to bypass any potential fertility problems, but they could also opt to have 'gestate' their children in a uterine-chamber: the service was baptized of Chrysalideum.
After months working on for the mafia, she came to know very rich people could also pay to have some stuff engineered out of their babies, but it was only after listening to Cecily's pillow talk with one client that she got enough intel to deduce they were also using those labs for other purposes.
She was smart enough to know any unauthorized project would be under heavy security, and try a break in alone would be next to impossible.
However… If she forced them to move what they were hiding there, she could explore whatever weaknesses she found. And there would be weaknesses because she was kidnapping the potential children of rich (and very rich) people.
That is… if she could get to her exit vehicle alive.
XXX
Lar'jar stayed inside to keep an eye on the ooman climbing the building down. He saw when she touched the ground, adjusting her equipment.
The ooman is indeed injured.
He noted by the way it moved. He didn't had much time to meditate on the matter - another ooman, entered the room. It seemed dizzy, and was armed.
It probably came from an area of the building unaffected by the gas. The Yautja had opened some of the windows, so the guy would not pass out (or die). But he was not exactly thinking straight. Once got close to the open window, he saw the Ooman Lar'jar was watching.
Lar'jar didn't think twice before throwing a blade in the hand holding the gun.
Which made the ooman scream bloody murder, and made its companion, who had just arrived, to shoot in his general direction. With the lights out, the other guard wanted to make whoever was there move and to lose any potential advantage they had.
That would not save him though. None of them.
XXX
"Jesus fucking Christ", Lance cursed, alarmed by the shots.
Kneeling, she released one of the cylinders with the embryos from her back, placing her hand on the gun in the holster. She scanned the area and saw someone exiting the building, 60 feet away.
Instinctively she drew her pistol and shot. Before she could pull the trigger the first time, the fucker jumped out of her aim.
He saw me? How?
Lance didn't stop, though.
And felt outraged upon realizing she didn't hit the bastard once.
But now? Now she had to run. Run run run.
XXX
Ah'kaedh saw when the ooman discarded her pistol which was emptied in the effort of (trying to) shooting him. Unfortunately, it was not her only gun.
He could risk being shot and sprint towards his target, and end this chase quite fast. Or play his target, pushing her into playing a pursuit game and tire her.
Chasing sounded like fun. Besides, killing her during an altercation would be less likely if she was exhausted.
Next he knew, the ooman was running. The Enforcer couldn't help himself: a wide grin changed his features under the mask.
XXX
In an emergency, what should you do? Yep. The cops.
(Burner phones, Lance loved them).
The Girl was screaming at the dispatcher while running towards the back of the building: ohmygodtheshotstheshotssendhelpplease.
She was not sure the poor guy was able to grasp the whole address but she made sure to mention the region, the lights (that were still out), panic coloring her words.
And she was, indeed, in a panic. Lance couldn't be arrested or captured or whatever. Die was fair game, but getting caught was not on tonight's menu.
So yeah, let's summon Chaos. Since she couldn't sneak out, she would wreak havoc and use the resulting mayhem as a smoke screen.
XXX
Lar'jar was heading towards his brother direction when an explosion took him by surprise.
He ducked, taking cover of whatever was happening.
Paya…
That explosion was closer to his brother's location. He looked at his gauntlet - Ah'kaedh signal was there. He pinged the enforcer, who opened a channel.
"Are you alright?"
"Fuck, speak up, my ears are ringing", his young brother growled back.
Not injured. At least not badly injured, the Medic concluded with some relief.
"Your target?" He spelled the words loudly and slowly.
"Pursuing it", and with a growl, the Enforce was moving again.
XXX
Lance reached the exit vehicle, her heart on her throat. She would need to drop it before planned, but she always had contingency plans.
Like the grenade she deployed.
(As Haze would always say, if you are going to escalate things, be sure no one can climb higher).
She let it fall to the ground once she reached the top of the wall separating the lab from the building sitting behind it.
Lance had time to touch the floor and look for cover just in time for the boom.
XXX
Ah'kaedh sighed, and looked at the sign on his prosthetic arm. It was strong and the readings were showing movement.
Good.
After the explosion he realized that cornering the ooman was not a good idea. After watching her pull that curve ball of an explosion, it was best to ambush the creature.
He used a dart to plant a tag on her - hopefully on her body. There was a chance it was hanging on her chest vest, but Ah'kaedh thought it would be unlikely she would strip off her garments and discard them if that was the case.
After that circus, she would surely look for shelter.
Why are you wasting your time?
His Girl could have asked this, if she was here.
You have other things, important things, to do. Move on.
Moving on was not easy though. The Enforcer retreated, moving his attention to the building they had left behind.
What are you doing here?
Now he could hear his own voice over his Girl's. It was like his mind wanted to inquire both, him and the mercenary, about their motives for what they were doing, at the same time.
XXX
Lar'jar was not able to drag Ah'kaedh to the med-bay. He had some pieces of shrapnel embedded in his scaly hide, but the enforcer thought it would be more productive to keep track of the tag signal than to extract those things out.
So there was the Medic, plucking that stuff out, while his brother followed the signal and did some research.
"Gods…"
That 'observation' made the Medic pause.
"It seems that the building hosts activities responsible for ooman reproduction".
It was damn easy to find information on oomans and their stuff thanks to the internet. Ah'kaedh became well acquainted with it after years of searching for his Girl.
Lar'jar finally turned to the screen.
"Is that right? They grow babies in laboratories?", the amount of disgust on the medic's voice could only be measured in tons.
"That's not all".
The Girl had left him data over his captors, all those years ago. Videos with hybrids, documents, reports, his own medical records.
One thing he had enough information about was Seizei, the company responsible for his imprisonment, and the parent company, Weyland-Yutani.
And the latter was the owner of that building and its business.
XXX
"Ah'kaedh we are ready".
Ho'kan woke the enforcer.
"You will stay here with Lar'jar", he growled, getting up.
He didn't bother to explain why he had changed his mind.
Once he reached the bridge, he saw his brother studying the aerial view.
"She might have found the tag and discarded it", the Medic advised.
After being 16 hours moving with just some short pauses, the signal stopped moving. It pointed to a location in the middle of the canyons, an inhospitable place of difficult access.
"When it stopped moving?"
"One hour ago".
"If she discarded it, she won't be far".
"Precisely".
It was the only criticism Lar'jar made about his brother's decision to go to the planet's surface alone.
Ho'kan was far too young and uncostumed to the Medic to notice it, but the Enforcer just growled his irritation.
XXX
Laying low was an art of sorts. The Girl had made provisions in the case she had to stay away for whatever reason.
But first, Chaos.
After changing vehicles for the second time, she drove to the neighboring city, the home of one local mafia family.
In the traditional sense.
They were even religious. And had some shady business with some churches of the prosperity gospel (but you would never catch any of them there).
Even if Lance hadn't done her due diligence, it would be fair to assume the family was against the chrysalideum services.
After being sure the colliders had enough nitrogen to keep the embryos for the week, she left the 'package' in the house of one of the many drug dealers she supplied with Charlie's drugs.
The guy was associated with one of the churches, and indirectly with that family.
Anyone with a cool mind and some brains would rightfully suspect that as a set up, but the Girl was banking on the righteous outrage that only money and privilege can brew in people's hearts.
Just a spark would be enough to brew turmoil. Weyland would need to move any material not related to Chrysalideum, and soon.
Lance had planned to follow up on their activities and see where they would move the material, but after last night she would need to stay quiet.
There weren't many options for Weyland-Yutani. They could use other company locations, which was risk because of the attention dragged by the whole ordeal - since, you know, they would need to use those locations to house the embryos and growing fetuses.
They could try to rent another companies facilities, who was even riskier.
Or they could use the underworld organic black market. Organs, children, ilegal fauna… hell, they had it all. She never heard of womb-like chambers there, but they surely had structure to host embryos and the like.
Any ilegal organic material could surely be stored with some of the criminal organizations, - even a couple of brokers probably had the structure for some of it.
The underworld route seemed the most likely. And if Weyland opted to use the black market services, there was a chance they would need to transport the cargo to the tradepoint and use the freezers (the pet name for illegal cryo structures) there.
So now, Lance needed to lay low. And what better place to do that if not in the horrific abandoned mines? Close enough to the common routes for any larger vehicles traveling to the tradepoint.
XXX
The Hunter had circled the location, trying to find traces of any oomans from a distance.
If the mercenary was here, the abandoned mine sure gave it some advantages.
And after the explosive surprise, Ah'kaedh would rather err on the side of caution.
It was already nighttime and he was cloacked. Still, there was a good chance she had set some traps around, and he would rather take time to make his way inside.
The Hunter found fresh tracks, and none of them leaving the place. There was a good chance the mercenary was still there.
Last night he had dropped his invisibility in order to not attract any attention to himself in case something cut the cloak barrier - which resulted in light emissions by the invisibility garment.
Ah'kaedh was quite dark, unlike most Yautjas - which was seen as a defect since he had no natural camouflage (for his home world environment at least). However, he blended very well in the dark.
And yet, somehow, the Mercenary had been able to detect him.
So there he was, all black and gunmetal scales, cloacked against the night hues.
And advancing quietly and slowly enough as if his prey was some sort of monster and not a small female.
Ah'kaedh felt quite irritated by the realization. And even more once he remembered how much his tiny Girl used to exasperate him.
After avoiding the 3rd tripwire, he felt satisfied for deciding to not wait much more to come looking for the mercenary. If she had more time to work security…
Found you.
Or not. The garment she'd used last night, that's what he found.
Inside the mine, tucked away in one of the few abandoned large containers, that had been converted into office structures so many years ago.
He tapped his mask, switching from night vision to thermal vision. The stonewalls were quite dense, if she was away, he wouldn't be able to see through but…
XXX
The Girl had set a small fire in the depts of the mine, to hide it from view.
The mine had a water catchment system, but since it was abandoned, all sorts of pathogens could be found there. Lance needed to clean herself but she was not crazy enough to dunk herself in foul water. She boiled some, and used her undershirt as a bath cloth. She washed and boiled her underwear, and was going back to her things.
After cleaning herself and caring for her bullet wound, she needed at least 4 hours of sleep before going out to set more traps and play sentry.
The Girl stopped by the entrance of the container she was using to store her stuff.
The care-package Galahad had prepared had been stuffed inside the 'emergency-vehicle' (after years of needing to do it, she had learned a thing or two about boredom and how to avoid it in order to not blow your cover).
"And he thought he would be bad at book clubbing" the Girl smile after retrieving a small tablet from the box.
Tablet, a pocketbook, a Chinese puzzle ball, guitar strings, a Swiss army knife…
Lance stopped checking the contents when she came across a rectangular piece of paper.
"A photo? Really dude…" the Girl chuckled.
(Galahad would never stop caring for the humans around him).
It was a picture of a very cranky black cat, missing an ear, some extra pounds, being held like a baby by a smiling Girl. She was dressed in civil clothes, sitting in a very common bed.
That picture had been taken years ago by Leecher, while they were wrapping up their mission at the Solomons. Lance had rescued the cat, and had convinced Dad to allow him onboard.
Because of the nature of their work conditions, they were allowed some concessions, which many times weren't more than a parody of privacy and personal identity. But keeping a minimum of humanity was necessary, and Bowser was not the first animal companion to be allowed in the Cradle.
She had printed that photo and wrote in the back 'you are the best Dad of the whole universe'. However this one had something else written:
"Behave, I have your cat", she read outloud, and chuckled.
"Great, now I have a hostage situation".
She placed the photo back and went inside the container to dress some clothes and try to sleep.
XXX
Yautjas could move without make a sound. Stalking was almost like a second nature to them, and Ah'kaedh was damn good at ambushing people.
His victims would not notice he was even there, and many had died without even realizing it - existing, living their own lives and in the next moment they were simply gone.
Lucky her, the Hunter wanted the Mercenary alive before deciding about death, and how he would hand it to her.
He had never seen his girl if not covered from head to toe. When the ooman came back, she was naked but for a piece of cloth wrapped around her waist.
The Enforcer was not interested on her body, but the hair… it made him freeze in his tracks.
The Gods were surely prancing (or punishing) him. How come their hair could be so similar? Even in length?
Next thing she was rummaging in one of the boxes left outside the container.
He had briefly checked everything. There were 3 boxes, 2 with food, one with useless paraphernalia.
Clothes and weapons were inside the container, along with a sleeping back and water.
She had made some preparations to stay away ( not unlike his Girl had made for him).
"Behave, I have your cat", she said, and chuckled.
What. The. Hell.
The Hunter's memory sucker punched his mind, and he saw himself 39 years ago.
XXX
[39 years ago]
The Girl had just watched the Hunter eat a Yautja-sized sandwich (sans a bite).
And sat by his side once he was ready for his afternoon rest. Since the Hunter was now collaborating, setting his table horizontally was easy and quick work.
He was a prisoner, yes, but somehow… somehow there was contentment. A bloody paradox he didn't want to analyze but was there nonetheless.
Holding his hand, the Girl applied herself to chatter (luke she would always do) about a new topic: cats. She had cats in her infancy, and left one with a friend to reallocate for the job of xenophysician at Seizei.
The fluffy guy was a tripod, missing an ear and some teeth, face a bit torn for fighting his way in the streets of her previous planet before being rescued. Grumpy, middle aged, "…black like the depths of my soul, black", and there was a smile on her face.
An amused Hunter clicked his mandibles, rhythmically, shaking his shoulder a tad - chuckling for the first time in years once he heard about cats purring. If they were other people, if they had an audience, if this was another time… he would have been royally infuriated by her subtle comparison of him to a teeny tiny crippled beast.
(The Girl took note of all that clicking as a positive response. But she was still oblivious to what was happening).
"You know what's the best part? He would bring me presents! I would wake up to a carnage on my bed because apparently cats think humans are dumb, can't hunt. He would even gut the critters he wanted to feed me. You should have seen him. So proud", she completed, amused by the recollection.
His clicking carried.
Insightful beast, that one.
As for the Girl…
"Oh, no way", it finally clicked. "Are you laughing?"
[Present Time]
Move on. That was 4 decades ago.
In his head he listened to both his and her voice, in unison, telling him to stay away from this madness.
But how could he? The Enforcer had just heard her voice. Her voice.
And yet, what she said didn't made any fucking sense. None. Zero.
After long moments it was clear she was not coming out of the container.
He got close and went to check the box. Fishing for the piece of paper she had held previously.
And there it was.
The Mercenary. Holding a black beast. The creature was missing an ear and was being held with its belly up, all 3 paws in full display.
All 3 paws.
XXX
Lance was not a heavy sleeper. But she was also not like some of her mates who would jump at the sound of a needle falling onto the floor a mile away.
In that sense, she was quite normal. Unless she was exhausted. Only loud noises or being shaken would wake her up on these occasions.
Like now.
It didn't help that Ah'kaedh was quieter than a ghost. He was able to get inside her elected sleeping quarters and come close. Kneel by her side and keep watch.
The Enforcer had endured intensive training, and his centuries as a Hunter of the Yautja made him harder. He could stay days in the same place, watching for prey.
And it was royally fucking his mind how he had no idea of what the hell he would do next. It was not even indecision. There was nothing to decide because his mind was stuck.
Ah'kaedh dedicate years to search for her. Meticulously, incessantly, going over every single piece of information, every single detail of what he knew about her.
Decades ago.
He never stopped looking. Until he realized (or rather, accepted) she was likely dead.
Watching this ooman sleep, quietly, was like having his failure tattooed all over his pride. A piece of his mind was raging. And at the same time…
There was a sense of peace, of wholeness. And the turmoil in his brain was not enough to rattle it.
XXX
Ah'kaedh lost the notion of time. Crouching at her side, even the fact that he still didn't know what to do (or what to believe, if he was honest with himself) could bother him any longer.
The Hunter had been able to decide on some things, trivial things: like how it was ok to touch her hair, so gathered some locks in his right hand. That she was probably tired enough to not notice light touches. He ran a finger in the palm of her right hand.
Her fingers twitched by the stimulus, and she inhaled deeply, rolling to the other side.
XXX
There was a loud noise, successive bangs of rapid fire. At the same time, a loud alarm went off inside the container, but only for a second. The Girl was awake with a start, already scrambling to her feet.
"The traps", the Girl hissed.
Ah'kaedh moved out of her way. The tripwires came to his mind.
At that point she had already retrieved a pistol and was shoving her feet inside a pair of boots.no vest, no helmet, no fucking protection. The fucking lunatic had hanged a heavy gun by the cross held across her chest, and was strapping a holster to her waistline and right thigh.
The mercenary was damn quick, at least. They both slipped out in almost complete darkness.
There was the moonlight outside, which gave her some sense of her whereabouts. He had his mask, which allowed him thermal vision at the moment.
They could her the noises of people moving. Softly now.
The Girl had moved away, positioning herself behind another container in the far back.
And waited.
XXX
Lance was not going to die. She was damn good at taking care of herself, no arguments there. However… There was a 8 feet Hunter playing the part of guardian angel, even if very curious about how she would deal with the intruders, Ah'kaedh had not come this far to allow her into an early grave.
XXX
And yet… No hulking alien was going to prevent her from doing what she was trained to do.
Focusing on her ears, she heard the exact moment when one of the intruders cut the tripwire she had set 25 feet away from her sleeping place.
It was not like the tripwires would work everytime the same way. Any agent (or mercenary) worth their salt wouldn't allow a team to fall to a trip wire a second time.
What Lance (and the rest of her team) used to do was set an extra "alarm", and build them in a way that there would be noticeable noise if the wire was cut.
There were no lights, no lanterns. In that darknesses it was next to impossible to find her trap - unless they had visual aides
Visual aides or not, she needed more light to shoot. And the fuckers were probably using night vision googles.
If you ever went blind when someone turned the lights on in a room, you never experienced it with a night vision device on.
Some of the lights still worked there. The circuit breaker was placed in the outside of the container she was hiding behind.
"Let's pray…" she murmured and turned all the lights, all at once. Only… right before she did it, the sound of something rending echoed in her ears. Not by her side mind you. Several feet away.
Lights on, and right when she peaked to aim and shoot, a gurgle, pained moan, and oh God, all that red!
XXX
Lights or no lights: Ah'kaedh's thermal vision gave him enough security to move and place himself in the best position to simply eliminate the 6 surviving oomans who came crashing his so deserved peace.
The Hunter killed the first ooman quite swiftly, and Paya willing, the Girl would only notice something was wrong once he had killed at least 2 or 3 more.
But oh well, nothing was going exactly according his plans, it seemed.
Because the oomans reacted in a strange way to Ah'kaedh's tearing into their colleague's flesh.
Covering their eyes and jerking their heads like… oh no.
She didn't do it, that pest!
Oh, she did! And after seeing a ghost bathed in blood she reacted as any sane person would.
XXX
Not that Ah'kaedh had much choice but to finish what he had started. And by then, when the carnage was done, the Girl was already out of sight.
Author's Notes
Hello! I will start a notes sessions, so I can address comments and any doubts you guys have :)
First, this fic is the sequel os Nameless, a short fic of 12 chapters. I truly recommend you go read because it will give you so much more context!
If you want to know anything else about the characters or have question, please leave a comment.
Also, I love comments :)