Sorry for the delay since the last chapter, but I promise you it'll be worth it!
UPDATE:
I have a Tumblr blog now!
amorous-xenomorph
Now you'll be able to receive semi-regular reassurance that I am - in fact - not dead and that I am alive & writing.
I also have Tumblr Asks set up for providing anonymous comments & feedback, because I know that publicly commenting on my work can be kinda embarrassing.
Now you can comment about long-form gay Xenomorph/Human romance with complete anonymity! The wonders of technology never cease to amaze!
In addition I will be providing weekly updates on the status of my current works (UT, 4aC, WIP oneshots, etc.) on my blog on Sundays, starting this week.
I will also be posting snips from upcoming chapters/stories, rambling about my ideas for stories and/or smut, and posting nature pictures I take while I'm walking through the river.
Come say hi! I don't bite much unless you ask politely! - AX 3
The door to Ursula's office - her real office - slammed open hard enough to shake the walls. The twin slam of the door closing knocked a stack of papers stacked on one of her overfilled filing cabinets tumbling to the floor.
Ursula didn't even notice. She grabbed one of her folding office chairs and jammed it under the handle of the flimsy office door. Once she was certain it wouldn't just fall over, she collapsed in her worn office chair.
"Fuck." Ursula swore. Thoughts swirled and twisted themselves around and around in her head. So much had happened so quickly; even for her it was too much.
Coffee. She needed coffee. A lot of it.
Ursula kicked the rolling chair over to a low cabinet that held an ancient coffee maker that she'd kept as a gift since she graduated University. Next to it was a tin of coffee grounds and a stack of loose filters she always kept in her office. They'd been sitting here since she'd outed Julius and taken over his position. She poured the grounds into a filter, prayed that the water that had been sitting undisturbed in the tank for the past few months wasn't too gross & switched the machine on.
As the decrepit coffee maker gurgled and began to let out a trail of steam, Ursula turned her attention back to the predicament at hand. She'd fucked up. She'd fucked up bad. She'd had the upper hand. She'd found Goodwin out.
But once she'd found out that Julius and Goodwin had been conspiring to have her fired from the very beginning… a spark of that overwhelming indignant rage still lingered inside her; ready to ignite back into a conflagration at the slightest provocation.
No, stop that. Ursula told herself. Beating yourself up isn't going to get you anywhere.
Of course she was right. Her emotions didn't matter right now. All that mattered was what she was going to do next.
And that's the fucking problem! How did I not see it? It should have been obvious from the beginning! Ursula had missed all the signs that something wasn't right. Of course she'd expected some push-back from the Board over outing Julius' flagrant crimes, but not to this degree.
Machiavellian corporate politics was the norm out here in frontier space. Skulduggery, secrecy, and backstabbing were time-honoured workplace traditions dating all the way back to the time when massive Conglomerates like Weyland-Yutani basically owned most of human space. Long before the great colonization drives that spread humanity across the stars in the billions.
The Board shouldn't have batted an eye at her airing Dr. Gavin's dirty laundry. Hell, Julius had stabbed enough backs on his way up the corporate ladder to make a professional assassin jealous. There was no way that the Bernard Company's corporate overlords should have an issue with her outing Julius…
Except that wasn't what happened. It all made sense now though.
Goodwin's clear disdain towards her; the lack of any information about Julius' status at all since he was suspended; the lack of direct communication with the Board; the mountain of veiled threats. And she had been so preoccupied with the administrative bullshit of her job - not to mention trying to keep Steven & Valen's asses out of the fire - that all the signs had slipped past her.
She was being set up.
Because what would happen if the new temporary Director of Research - who just so happened to have a nasty history with the former director - was significantly worse at the job? Worse enough that the Board might regret replacing their former Research Director.
Especially if said replacement was an former underlings with a chip on her shoulder.
And coincidentally, Goodwin started hounding her about her job performance almost immediately after Julius had been placed on 'administrative leave'. Immediately after she'd taken his brother's position out from under him.
She could practically hear Goodwin's smug voice as he made his reports to the Board.
"I told you. She's just jealous and wanted to enact revenge on her more successful colleague."
"I wouldn't be surprised if she fabricated the evidence."
"Even if her accusations were true, have you seen how poorly she's running the place?
"Everything is over-budget and under-delivering now that she's in charge."
"Julius never would have let this happen."
The coffee maker gurgled and buzzed; cutting through her speculation with the shriek of a half-dead alarm clock and the imminent promise of sweet, sweet caffeine. That or the coffee maker was on the verge of spontaneously combusting; it was hard to tell either way.
Ursula unplugged the machine and rummaged around in the mess on her cabinet for a semi-clean cup to drink it out of. The only empty mug she unearthed was an old ceramic one with a picture of a cat hanging from a tree branch on the side. A line of text that said "Hang in There!" was printed across the bottom of the picture. It was tacky, but it could hold coffee and that's all that mattered.
Ursula took a greedy gulp; wincing as the coffee scalded her tongue. She'd forgotten that the heating element in the damn machine was busted. The stupid thing had been trying to enact some kind of vengeance on her for her caffeine addiction the past year or so. At least that was the best explanation she could come up with.
And speaking of explanations…
Ursula's brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed at the memory of Goodwin's shrill voice; screaming at her in the cafeteria.
"He's my little brother! And you... You cost him everything! All that he's ever worked for, everything I helped him achieve. Poof, gone!"
"...everything I helped him achieve …"
"God-fucking-damnit!" Ursula hissed under her breath; kicking the leg of her desk and causing coffee to splash onto the miscellaneous piles of paper under her mug. She snatched up the mug of coffee and drained it in one long gulp, ignoring the searing heat that scalded her tongue.
Goodwin. Fucking Goodwin.
Julius might have been an arrogant, irresponsible, spiteful, morally depraved asswipe, but at least she'd been able to cuss him out when he fucked her over. His rat-fuck brother however…
Goodwin had been the one to maneuver Julius up the corporate ladder to the Research Director.
Goodwin had been the one to keep Julius there through scandal after scandal; stealing her work time & time again; violating human rights protocols like it was a competition.
Goodwin had been the one to take revenge on her when she had finally pushed back after what he did to Steven.
Julius might be a sadistic wankstain, but he couldn't do anything to anyone anymore. It was Goodwin who was the real threat now. He was shrewd, cunning, and a skilled manipulator. It pained her to admit it, but Ursula hadn't even suspected that she was even being manipulated in the first place. Goodwin had played her like a fucking fiddle.
Ursula's brow furrowed, her knuckles turning white as she clenched the mug in her hands. "Fucking Goodwin…"
She wanted to strangle that fucking rat. All of her problems, every conflict over her budget, every project stolen from her, every denied promotion that Julius received instead… All her hatred and frustration had been his fault as much as Julius'.
He'd been a bland beige specter, hiding in plain sight among the endless tedium of business bureaucracy. He'd been the one who elevated Julius through his entire career at the company. He'd been the one turning the eyes of the corporate overlords away from his little brother's sketchy behavior.
He was the one trying to put his precious brother back on his throne.
"It's always been the pair of you," Ursula fumed at them through teeth clenched hard enough to bite through solid steel. "I wish I'd never met Julius. I wish I'd never come here in the first place. Goddamnit if only I'd…"
For fucks sake, focus! Ursula snapped at herself. She was letting her emotions the better of her. She knew better than that. She knew that the only thing that mattered right now was containing the oncoming shitstorm she'd set free, but…
But trying to focus right now was fucking hard. Ursula hadn't even slept more than an hour or two for the past… Fuck how many days had it even been now? Two? Three? She was so preoccupied with digging up dirt on Goodwin that she'd lost track.
Hell, she hadn't even been able to sleep more than 2 or 3 hours a night for months because of her massive workload;
And because she needed to be a babysitter for an emotionally fragile man and his telepathic alien boyfriend;
And because of the fucking bombshell revelation she'd just unearthed about Goodwin;
And because of the stress and anguish that they had caused her;
And because right now there was nothing more that she wanted than to wrap her hands around Goodwin's scrawny little neck and wring it UNTIL HIS HEAD FELL OFF!
CRUNCH.
Pain in her right palm.
A hot, wet trickle of blood squeezing through her fist.
Ursula looked down in surprise at her hand. She'd been clenching the mug so hard that the cheap ceramic had cracked into several pieces.
Ragged shards of mug were digging into her right palm; hot, red blood welling and pooling in her palm; running in rivulets down her wrist & dripping through her fingers.
Her gaze followed the stream of blood; staring blankly as the streams of red dripped onto the bare concrete floor. Small, red droplets soaking into the matte of wrinkled, trodden paper under her desk.
Ursula felt her hands trembling; her breath coming in short, rapid gasps; her brow dripping with sweat; her teeth chattering with a sudden chill.
Am I dying? Jolting at the sudden intrusive thought, Ursula dropped the bloodstained remains of her mug. No... shock. I'm going into shock.
Clenching her wrist with one hand, Ursula tried to force herself to breathe deeply as she scrambled for something to stem the bleeding with. Her eyes flicked back and forth, scanning for a first aid kit that she swore she'd seen somewhere before.
Her brief search was hopeless. Wherever the first aid kit was, it was lost to the mess of paper and garbage. There was no way she'd find it in time. The next-best option was an old t-shirt that had been left hanging on the back of a folding chair.
Well it was better than bleeding on the floor. Hastily she plucked the biggest shards of ceramic from her palm before balling the old shirt up and grasping it as best she could in her injured hand. No point in bandaging it, she'd call David in a minute to stitch her up.
"Fuck." Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill out and join the bloody mess on the floor. No, you don't have time for that now. Later. You can cry later.
No matter what Ursula told herself, no matter how hard she told herself to push her feelings down, no matter how urgent the situation was, she was still only human.
So for just a moment, Ursula stopped trying. She let herself forget her responsibilities, her sense of duty, her moral obligations and - just for a while - gave up on being in charge.
Just for a while, Ursula let her tears flow freely.
It wasn't until the 3rd round of knocking that Julius finally cracked open the door to his 'confinement quarters'. Goodwin had been trying to contact Julius all day, and he'd eventually given up and come down to see Julius in person.
His half-brother's dishevelled, unshaven face leered out from the crack in the door; peering at Goodwin with one bleary, bloodshot eye. "Whosat… Wha-what d'you want?"
"Oh for God's sake Julius it's me!" Goodwin snapped at him.
"Sssswho?" Julius slurred, his eye peering unsteadily at him; unfocused.
"Goodwin! Your brother!" Goodwin nearly shouted at him. He could smell the sour odour of liquor and half-digested food wafting from his mouth. Goodwin glanced at his watch. 21:18. Christ, it wasn't even 10 o'clock yet and Julius was shitfaced already. He glared at his drunken brother; his gaze practically dripping venom. "Let me in."
Julius snorted like a surly teenager. "Sure, wha-ever."
Goodwin pushed the door open and was hit by a wave of stale alcohol fumes, rotten food, and body odor. His nose wrinkled, but Goodwin bit his tongue before he could remark on the state of Julius' accommodations.
Not to say that it wasn't difficult.
It had only been a week since his last visit, but in that time Julius had done his level best to turn his small yet comfortable living space into an live artistic rendition of a depressed college student's dormitory. Every available surface was covered in a layer of dirty clothes, used towels, food containers, with an assortment of partly-consumed alcoholic drinks strewn haphazardly on any available surface.
The only spot that had been kept clear of the mess was a single reclining chair which was surrounded on all sides by a haphazardly organized pile of bottles of various sizes. Almost all of them empty, of course.
Where the hell did he even get all this booze? Goodwin marvelled to himself. It was almost impressive how quickly Julius had trashed his apartment since his last visit. Goodwin scanned for a spot to sit down as Julius plopped himself back into his bottle-lined throne. Giving up, he just stood over Julius in his recliner.
"Something's come up," Goodwin told his brother, trying to convey how dire the situation was with his tone.
"Whatsss up?" Julius' head jerked up. He was trying to show he was paying attention, but his head kept lolling side to side.
God damnit Julius, how much did you drink? Goodwin's brow wrinkled, lip curling up to join his expression of disgust. Judging by the mess, far too much; as per usual. "She's onto us Julius."
"Who's onto what? What're… whose talkin' about… Us?" His words were slurred; breath sour with the smell of cheap booze and even cheaper cafeteria food that had been left unrefrigerated for far too long. Where Julius had managed to get either the booze or the food was a mystery - Goodwin had no clue, but his half-brother was surprisingly resourceful when it came to acquiring garbage to shovel into his face when he was depressed.
"Dr. Nigel."
"Fuckinnn' who?"
"Ursula!" Goodwin exploded at Julius; gesticulating with his arms in exasperation. "I don't know how, but she's onto us. She's figured out my plan to get your job back, and she's probably on her way to rat me out to the Board right now!"
"Shit… I 'member her. She's th' bitch that got me fired!"
"Yes, very good Julius, you get a gold star." Goodwin rolled his eyes. "What did I tell you about day drinking? If you want your old job back then you have to keep your shit together and stay sober."
"Fuckin' bitch stole my job…" Julius' head drooped and he almost fell over, only snapping back to awareness at the last second. He was shit-faced again. There was no way he'd be able to discuss a plan of action with him until tomorrow. At best.
Goodwin sighed and scooped up handful of half empty wine bottles. He'd hoped to come up with some plan of action to deal with Ursula together today, but that clearly wasn't going to happen. Goodwin made to pour the rest of the booze down the sink; knowing from painful experience if he didn't, Julius would get rid of the booze by pouring it down his gullet.
Unfortunately the sink was piled high with unwashed dishes and other assorted empty bottles of alcohol, so he had to empty the bottle in the toilet instead. Thankfully the tiny toilet in the attached bathroom wasn't piled high with leftover food boxes, dirty dishes, and empty bottles as well, so at least Julius hadn't hit rock bottom again. A small win, but a win nonetheless.
Goodwin contemplated cleaning the apartment up. Or at least throwing out the rotting food. It smelled like something had crawled into his living room and died a month ago; but he decided against it. If Julius wanted to live in a pigsty then he could go ahead and do it. He was an adult, and he could live with the consequences.
Besides, someone needed to deal with Ursula before she did anything reckless that would endanger his and Julius' careers. That was the priority right now. Goodwin's fingers hovered just over the doorknob, about to swing the door wide and storm out…
Except he couldn't.
Julius couldn't leave his apartment, he was literally confined here. Which meant that if Goodwin didn't clean it, he'd just be dealing with it again when he came back tomorrow. There was no way in hell his brother would clean up while he was gone.
Goodwin let the door swing closed with a resigned click. Tomorrow. He could deal with Ursula tomorrow. Besides, what could she realistically do overnight?
God damnit Julius. Maybe once Julius was back in his Research Director position he'd get his shit together. Then Goodwin could stop cleaning up after his rampaging, alcoholic brother.
Someday, he told himself. Someday…
Dr. Nigel should have contacted us by now, Valen said to Steven as they laid together beside the campfire; comfortably settled back at their little forest camp. Both he and Valen spent the past few days relaxing back at their campsite after an impromptu camping trip. Honestly, it had been a much-needed escape from reality, but the annoying thing about reality is that it had a way of not going away if you just ignored it.
Still, that didn't mean Steven wasn't trying his best at it.
"She's probably just busy." Steven responded, praying that if he feigned a nonchalant attitude he might actually start to believe it himself.
With what? Valen asked, clearly not buying into Steven's attempts at self-delusion. We're what she's busy with.
"She is the Research Director for the entire facility." Steven pointed out; trying to convince himself of his own reasoning as much as Valen. "We can't possibly keep her that busy."
Are you gonna tell her that? Valen asked, bemused.
"NO! Err… I mean no, I don't think so. I like my head where it is thank you very much." Steven shuddered at the memory of Ursula's expression that night while he was being stitched up. If it was possible for looks to kill, Steven would have disintegrated into a cloud of charged ions on the spot.
As if I'd let her, Valen snorted at Steven's mental image of Ursula vaporizing him with a glare.
"Yeah, she'd decapitate you first."
His tail swished menacingly. I'd like to see her try.
"I wouldn't! I'd like you to keep your head where it is too, thank you very much."
Do you have that little faith in me? Valen feigned an insulted tone. At least he tried to. Unlike when they first met, it was nearly impossible for Valen to hide his emotions from Steven these days.
"Oh I have plenty of faith in your lethality," Steven gave Valen a placating pat on the head, which he pretended to tolerate; his purring was a dead giveaway that he relished the affirmation. "I just have more faith in Ursula to find a way to remove your head while you're asleep."
I don 't sleep.
"First, that's a lie," Steven pointed an accusing finger at Valen, "Second, she'd just knock you out with gas or something."
…I'll concede that you might have a point.
Ever since the night he & Valen had fallen back into their old routine of never-ending, back and forth bickering.
Normally Steven would have been content. Life was going back to normal - no, better than normal. There was no more awkward tension between him and Valen, no more unrequited feelings, no more accidental lacerations; just being able to bask in each other's love & affection was better than anything either of them could dream of.
And of course they'd spent the past few days enjoying their free time together. Alone. With no supervision. It was the happiest either Steven or Valen had been in… well, ever.
…
But despite his best efforts not to think about it, Steven was extremely worried by Ursula's lack of communication. Normally she'd never stayed out of contact for this long. Even if they weren't running tests or discussing results with her, she always kept them in the loop about what she was doing. Sure, she had told them she'd be out of contact for a while…
But it had been four days. Four days and absolutely nothing. No calls, no messages, no visits, no experiments. Nothing. Steven's will had even cracked enough for him to break his promise and tried to send Ursula a message. Still, even a day later, no response was forthcoming.
He'd stayed up at night, imagining what Ursula was up to. What was she doing? What had she found? Why didn't she tell him anything? Fuck, he felt useless being stuck down here! He wanted to leave; to go help Ursula figure out what was going on! Being stuck here doing nothing for days on end was driving him up the wall.
It reminded Steven of when he'd first come to Bernard; of when he and Valen had first met. His current boredom wasn't nearly as bad as the mind-numbing tedium he'd experienced for the two weeks when he'd isolated Valen.
Steven felt a pang of regret and shame at the memory. Of course Valen had long since forgiven him, but forgiving himself was another matter entirely.
Still... no news is good news, Steven tried to reassure himself. Ursula's just busy. She told me she was just going to figure out why the board was hounding her so much. It can't be that bad.
Truthfully, Steven was doing his absolute best not to completely lose it. He'd tried to keep himself distracted with books and movies and music and Valen, but even then he couldn't stop thinking about…
You're really loud when you're anxious. Valen snarked at him.
"Wha-?" Steven's body jerked as his train of thought was suddenly and violently derailed. "I wasn't talking."
Despite having no eyes, Valen threw him an impressively condescending side-eye.
"Oh… duh." Steven's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. "Was I really thinking that loud?"
Steven felt a brief impression; a blaring siren in each of his ears.
"Okay there's no way I sound that loud… err, well it's not really a sound. I don't think that loud…?" Steven shook his head. "Whatever, the point is that I'm not that loud!""
You 're right.
"See, I…"
You're much louder, Valen retorted. It's like listening to an anxious hurricane.
"Shut up or I'll bite you!"
Don 't threaten me with a good time.
"Shut up or I won't bite you!"
…fine.
Steven's smug smile lasted for only a second; fading into a thin, concerned line as he felt Valen's own concern bleed through their connection. That was something else that was new for him; being able to feel Valen's emotions more clearly. Before, Valen had been able conceal his own thoughts and emotions from him with ease, but ever since that night; since their first kiss…
Something had changed; some paradigm had shifted; some line had been crossed that could not be uncrossed. It was as if Steven could feel Valen with more clarity. His inner thoughts; his emotions; his moods; all were more open & clear to him. "You're worried about me, aren't you?"
Are you sure that you're not telepathic too? Valen snorted, adjusting himself so Steven could lean against his chest more comfortably. That made Steven smile, and he leaned deeper into Valen's embrace. Valen could still read Steven's thoughts like a book; it was comforting to know that hadn't changed at all.
"Honestly, it's hard to tell these days. It's not like there's established rules for this shit."
Isn't that your job? Valen snarked, a wide grin splitting his face. To find the rules?
Steven didn't take the bait. "Don't change the subject. You're worried about me."
And what if I am? Valen asked defensively.
Damnit. A Xenomorph being this cute shouldn't be possible. Well it's not like Valen was any ordinary Xenomorph, even in Steven's wholly unbiased, completely objective opinion. Instead of trying to answer the impossible question, Steven leaned in and gave Valen a peck on the cheek. "Then that's very sweet of you."
I… Well I mean… Valen flushed hot with embarrassment, caught off guard by his compliment.
"Valen," Steven caressed Valen's cheek; gently pulling his head back over to look him in the face. "I love you."
I… It felt like Valen's heart skipped a beat or three; radiating embarrassment from the burst of unrequited joy that Steven's words sparked. I love you too.
"So spill it. Why are you worried about me?"
Valen hissed a sigh, but didn't resist the question anymore. The things you think sometimes... they're frightening.
That caught Steven off guard. "Frightening? What do you mean?"
It's like… your thoughts lately have been spiralling towards the worst possible outcomes over and over and over again. Valen turned his head away, as if he couldn't bring himself to meet Steven's gaze. And the worst part is that you don't stop; you just keep spiralling down and down until all that's left is your fear and anxiety.
Steven's brain struggled to think of what words he could string together to respond to a sentence like that, but not even single syllable of a reply managed to form before Valen continued.
It's like everything good that has ever happened to you melts away until all that's left is the anxiety. It's like you start rotting away. Everything wonderful about you decays until nothing remains. Sometimes it even feels like… Valen's words, normally so crisp and clear in his head were lost amidst the storm of emotion that whirled faster and harder as he spoke; but Steven knew.
Sometimes it even feels like I've lost you. That's what Valen was going to say. He didn't say them, but Steven didn't need to hear them; Steven could feel the melange of sadness; of fear; of frustration; of the utter desperation to hold onto the one person he truly cared about. Valen was terrified of losing him; not to any outside threat, but to his own anxious brain rot.
"Valen, look at me." Steven gently pulled Valen's massive crested head to look at him straight on. Leaning in close, Steven pressed his forehead against Valen's own. "I could never forget you. Ever."
You don't have to listen to yourself though. You don't know what it feels like… Valen's tone was miserable; the floodgates holding back of all his own worries and fears had been breached and now overflowed in kind, washing over Steven in the same torrential flood that he must have been subjecting Valen to. A reservoir of emotion that Steven should have noticed long before it spilled over.
"I'm sorry Valen," Steven pulled himself in closer, wrapping his arms around neck and holding him close. Embracing Valen; holding him still in the chaotic tide of his feelings. "I've been so worried because I don't want anything bad to happen to you.
I know…Valen pressed his head hard into Steven's chest, trying to close as much distance between them as he could. It doesn't make it easier.
"Can I make a suggestion?" Steven whispered.
Okay …
"If I start doing that anxious worry-spiral, you have my permission to insult me as much as you like until I stop," Steven proposed. "Does that sound that fair?"
What about 'accidentally' bumping into you? Valen's glum attitude perked up just a bit.
"No!" Steven exclaimed. "No bumping, pushing, and/or shoving. My body is sore enough with all the fitness exercises I have to do."
Valen rolled his eyes. It's not like you could stop me tipping you over even if I did it.
"Don't you go being factual with me big guy! No Steven-tipping!"
I 'll consider it.
"Don't push your luck." Steven raised an eyebrow at Valen in an attempt to exert a degree of authority. "I'm already letting you snark at me."
Letting me? Valen tilted his head in mock disbelief. Since when could you stop me from sassing you?
"…What did I just say about being correct?"
To stop?
"Exactly."
Make me.
Steven leaned forwards and gave Valen a kiss on the snout. "There."
I… That… If Valen had cheeks they would be burning red. You cheated!
"Like you could stop me even if I was."
Jerk. Valen huffed; his attempt at indifference undermined by the loud, vibrating purring sounds he was making.
"I love you too." Steven grinned.
The reprieve from their stress; their worry; their anxiety; was tragically short lived, as right at that second a ping sounded from the device in Steven's right pants pocket.
Steven flinched, winced at himself for flinching, tried to tug the phone out of his pocket, grunted in frustration when his pocket twisted and gripped onto the phone, forcing Steven to push the phone back in and shimmy his leg out of the way so he could untwist it, and only then did he finally managed to extricate the damn thing.
It was a message. From Ursula.
Julius is back. His brother Goodwin has been sabotaging me from the start, has the Board in his pocket.
No time to explain. Will send someone with more info ASAP.
Take their help, then get out. Get offworld.
Don't come for me.
I'm sorry I failed both of you.
Goodbye.
The coffee had gone cold in the carafe by the time Ursula felt that she could pull herself together enough to focus. She'd wasted time - too much time for her liking - but Ursula couldn't say that she didn't feel better now. Not much better, mind.
Her throbbing, aching hand protested loudly whenever she tried to unclench her fist; her eyelids felt like sandpaper whenever she blinked; and her head felt like it had been used as a drum in one of her father's garage band solos, but she had a grip in her emotions now.
Which meant she could start fixing this mess she'd gotten them into.
No… no that wasn't quite right. She wasn't the one who made this mess. It was Julius and Goodwin that had set a trap for her, she'd just made the mistake of letting it slip that she'd seen the net. Now she needed to cut them loose before it was too late; Steven and Valen were relying on her.
Ideally, she would head down the hall to the Research Director's office. The only computer here was the ancient monstrosity that Will gave her. Unfortunately, it was painfully slow at doing basically anything. Logically, she should cover her hand, get to the Director's office with it's far superior computer, and strip all the data she could out of the system before Goodwin caught onto her…
But goddammit she couldn't! The computer here was the one she knew for certain had secure access to the company servers without being logged or monitored. It was the one that Will had set up all the way back when Julianne had tortured Steven on Julius' orders. That had only been a few months ago, but now it felt like a lifetime.
Shaking her head, Ursula snapped herself out of yet another reverie. If she wanted to pull the data they needed, then she needed to do it securely and be picky about what she copied. The datastick she had was already nearly full and nobody - especially not Goodwin - could know exactly what data she stole. If Goodwin suspected that she'd grabbed anything except a random assortment of data…
Hell, what even was her plan? Ursula stopped for a second. She'd been reacting to events this entire time, and look where that got her. Pulling more data would be useless unless it was to accomplish a goal.
Okay, so what's my goal? Ursula asked herself. What am I trying to accomplish?
She wanted to make both Gavin brothers pay for what they did to her. They'd been stifling her career for years without her knowledge that one of them even existed. Just the thought was enough to make her blood boil, but she calmed herself before her temper boiled over yet again.
So yes, she wanted revenge on Julius and Goodwin. She wanted them to pay for what they'd done, but not just to her; to Steven & Valen as well. Steven had been tortured because it was convenient for Julius to do so, for whatever the hell he'd been trying to accomplish. Valen was misunderstood; born a prisoner for science who would be killed when he outlived his usefulness.
Ursula wanted revenge for all of them.
And she wanted Steven and Valen to live.
They didn't deserve imprisonment. Even if it was in a climate controlled natural ecosystem, it was still a prison. Especially Valen… She felt a pang of melancholy when she thought of the Xenomorph. How long had it been since she met him? Years now… and since then her perspective of him had changed so much. If Ursula had the time to think about it, she couldn't even think of him as less than human anymore. He was a person; someone who deserved life as much as anyone else, even if he was a snarky, sarcastic, willfully stubborn asshole most of the time.
If Julius resumed his old post, there was no telling what he might to do them… Ursula sat up straighter in her chair as a realization dawned on her. There was no way to tell what Julius was planning - unless there was a way. Unless Julius had written it down somewhere in the mess of unorganized files she had stolen, or had yet to steal.
Spinning to face the old computer, Ursula fished the datastick - the one with all the information she had already pilfered - from her coat pocket and plugged it into the console; same with her security clearance cards.
This was going to be tricky with just her left hand, but not impossible. She scooped up the coffee carafe with her good hand, took a long gulp of coffee, and got to work.
—
While Ursula worked on vetting & extracting data she deemed useful onto the datastick and purging anything irrelevant, Ursula made a few phone calls. While she was downloading a particularly interesting file that had something to do with Valen's acquisition by the Bernard Company, she tried to make a call to Dr. David Miller.
Of course she never actually used his last name since they'd known each other for the better part of a decade, but that's what David's contact information listed in the directory.
The phone rang until it went to his voicemail. Shit. He wasn't in his office. Ursula glanced at the tiny clock in the corner of the computer monitor.
05:42. Shit, no wonder he didn't pick up his office phone. She rubbed her bleary eyes with a hand. When was the last time she slept? Whatever, that wasn't important. Awkwardly balancing the receiver between her shoulder and head, she dialed in the number for his personal quarters.
Again, the call went to voicemail.
Odd. Normally David didn't brush her off like this unless he was busy assisting with some other medical emergency. Sure, he was to be her personal doctor, but despite how she treated him Ursula knew he had other duties he was supposed to perform when not helping her. He wasn't just her doctor after all.
This time, she left a message. "Hey, David. It's me. Listen, I cut my hand up really bad and I need you to stitch me up. Get down to my old office as soon as you can."
The receiver returned to it's home with a soft click - terminating the call. So it looked like she'd be dealing with her cuts for a little while longer. Her palm might have finally stopped bleeding, but she wasn't going to be using it anytime soon.
Glancing back to the progress bar for the download, it was barely over halfway done.
Enough time for another call.
Will was stuffing a backpack full of office supplies when his desk phone rang. That meant one of two things.
The first possibility was that it was his boss George was calling him to berate him for one reason or another. Unlikely, since there hadn't been any issues today worth his attention; thank goodness. So it probably wasn't him.
Second, it could his girlfriend Monika calling to make a change to their plans. They'd had the rare opportunity for a date since they both had the night off tonight, but she worked in security at the spacecraft dock, and he worked IT. Normally their schedules rarely ever cooperated with them, but Will was planning a nice, long vacation at a resort in a neighboring start system. That meant they'd have some free time to…
Will fumbled with a paperweight as the phone rang again, cutting off his thoughts of spending a night alone with his beautiful girlfriend.
He dropped the model spaceship in his bag and snatched up the phone.
"Hello?" Will answered tentatively.
"Oh thank god! Will, it's me." Damnit! It was Dr. Nigel; the third, unspoken cursed possibility he'd been silently praying against. Will took a deep breath, trying - and failing - to calm the panic welling up in his chest. She'd made it pretty clear last time that he should get the hell out while he could, so why was she trying to contact him now when we was trying to do that!?
Will tried to think of what to say next, but all that came out was, "Heyyy… so… what's up?"
"I need you to do a favour for me." Of course. Dr. Nigel never called him unless she needed something.
"Look, Dr. Nigel," Will began, rubbing a temple with his free hand. "If you want me to hack something else for you, I don't think…"
"Will… please listen." That gave him pause. He couldn't recall a single time Dr. Nigel said 'please'. As a matter of fact, he'd never heard her voice this tight and strained before either. "I… I need your help."
And Will had certainly never heard her ask for help like this before. "My… help?"
"Yes… Look, I won't go into the details, but I made a mistake. A big mistake."
"Did… did someone find out about the fake security cards?" For a moment his heart sank into his boots. If someone had traced those security cards back to him…
"No! No, nothing like that. Nobody knows about you, you're not in danger."
Will nearly keeled over with relief; his scrawny knees nearly knocking in relief. "Okay… Okay that's a relief. Oh my god… Wait, so why are you calling me? You almost missed me, I was just about to leave."
"That's the favour. I need you to hold off on leaving."
"Wait what!?" Will shrieked, his voice going up a full octave. "But you told me... errr, implied that…"
"I know what I implied!" Dr. Nigel snapped at him. "Will, just shut up and listen! I don't have much time right now."
Will respectfully shut his trap and let her speak.
"Listen…" A loud creak, then silence; Will imagined Dr. Nigel slumping back in her chair with exhaustion. "Look I fucked up big time, and some people I'm in responsible for might be in danger because of it. They don't deserve to go down with me, so I want you to help get them offworld with you."
"Okay… so send them over to my office and I can…"
"That's the tricky part. I can't. They're… in custody, I guess you could say."
"So you want me to smuggle out prisoners!?"
"We're a research base Will, we don't have prisoners."
"Tell that to security!" Will's mouth felt dry. Too dry. He looked around for something to drink, but his office was as bone dry and dusty as his mouth felt. The last thing Will wanted was to get into a confrontation with a squad of heavily armed security personnel; not least of which was that Monika would be so pissed at him if he got arrested.
"Yeah, that's part of the reason why I need your help." Dr. Nigel continued, oblivious to his discomfort about the favour she was asking of him. "Look, I'm going to tell them to meet you at the spaceport cargo terminal as soon as they can. They're very distinctive, you can't miss them. Just keep your eyes peeled for a message from Dr. Kirchoff ."
Dr. Kirchoff. Will thought he recognized that name from somewhere, but he couldn't remember off the top of his head. "Sure, but my ship leaves in less than 2 days. Are you sure that they'll make it?"
"I'm sure." Her words were confident, but her tone was less so. "Just a heads up, they're a bit unusual, so don't freak out when you meet them okay?"
"Why? What's wrong with them?" Will asked, puzzled.
"Just… promise me okay." Dr. Nigel was insistent.
Will shrugged. "Okay sure, I promise."
"Good, give me one sec." Will could hear muffled scraping as the receiver was set on the desk and the familiar tap of fingers on a keyboard. It took about a minute before he heard Dr. Nigel's voice again. "Okay, I just transferred you your payment."
"Payment?" Now Will was even more puzzled. "You said this was a favour, why are you…?"
"Will, check your personal bank account." Alright, now his puzzlement had turned to full-blown confusion. Bank card? Dr. Nigel always dealt with his fees in cash, why would she send him money through a bank card? Will hastily tapped on his keyboard to pull up his personal accounts and… "What the fuck?!"
"I assume you checked your account," Will could hear the smile in her voice.
"I… I mean…" Will was dumbstruck. "This is a lot of money. Like, a LOT of money."
"That is every single cent I have to my name that I can give you." She said, utterly calm & matter-of-fact. "Plus some… bonuses I had accumulated."
Will's mouth did it's best to try and speak four or five different questions simultaneously, but all that ended up coming out was a gargling wheeze. This was a number of zeros he'd only ever dreamed of making. When he eventually managed to choke out a question, it was a simple, "…why?"
"That's for the three of you; Yourself, Steven, and Valen." She explained. "Use that money to get as far away from Bernard as you can, as fast as you can. Head Sol-ward if you can, but just make sure it's away from here."
A pause; a weary sigh; the faint squeak of someone leaning forwards in a chair. "I don't think I'll need it anymore."
A chill washed down Will's body; an icy waterfall that made his hair stand on end. His brain felt numb. "But… Dr. Nigel I…"
"No 'buts', Will," Dr. Nigel cut him off before he had a chance to say anything else. Her tone was something Will had never heard from the former scientist turned director. Pleading. Desperation. "I know what I'm doing. Please just… do me one last favour here. For real this time. Get Steven and Valen off Bernard and get them somewhere safe. They don't deserve to suffer because of my mistakes. Please…"
"…Yeah. Yeah I'll help."
"Thank you. Be ready before your flight Will, at least 6 hours if you can spare it. And keep your personal phone on you." A small click, and the line went dead. Will gently placed the receiver back in it's cradle.
Steven and Valen. Will caught himself staring down at his backpack, his frantic packing forgotten. Who were Steven and Valen? Why did Dr. Nigel want to protect them? What kind of mistake had she made? She hadn't gone into any details about what he was even supposed to do aside from 'meet them at the cargo dock'! Hell, she didn't even say how they fuck they were supposed to contact him! Will balled his fists in his hair; the magnitude of what he might have just agreed to dawning on him with each passing second.
Then he remembered the payout. The amount of money Dr. Nigel just handed over to him without even a second thought was a stupidly huge sum, and she had no way of stopping him if he just took the money and ran.
For a second, Will considered the possibility. He could just grab Monika, get on the ship, and enjoy an early, stress free retirement. After all, it's not like he owed her. Dr. Nigel could be pushy, stubborn, and frustratingly ignorant of technology at times, but she trusted his technical knowledge & self-preservation instincts enough to do sketchy jobs on the side for her; especially for the past few months.
Dr. Nigel had refused to divulge any specific information about her requests and he in turn hadn't asked. Still, he could tell she was up to something sketchy. Untraceable secure network access, A/V feeds, duplicate security access cards, all of it was enough to catch his attention, but he'd done his job and kept his nose out of it. Whatever she was up to it wasn't something he wanted to get tangled up in. If he was smart he'd take the money and run…
But what had she said? About the people she was responsible for… What were their names? Steven and Valen?
She'd said, "They don't deserve to suffer because of my mistakes."
Will groaned. Whatever shit she'd gotten those two wrapped up in, it probably wasn't their fault. He couldn't blame them for Dr. Nigel's bullshit. The least he could do was help them get offworld.
Besides, how hard could that be?
By the time Ursula hung up on Will, the file had finished downloading. This file was from Julius' personal data archive. According to the file name, it was something from the acquisition department. Ordinarily she would have skipped over such an innocuous file, if it hadn't been in the folder labelled "Ursula Projects: VS-223".
Two quick keystrokes and she was skimming through the first page of an acquisition record; a record that became more recognizable by the second. This was an acquisition record she had filled out years ago; an intake record for an unusual specimen that appeared under equally unusual circumstances.
Specimen VS-223.
Valen.
"Why the hell do you have this Julius?" Ursula asked under her breath. She shouldn't be surprised that Julius was interested in Valen; aside from the blatantly obvious. It was just how he was. Ursula knew far better than most about Julius penchant for butting in at the last minute on any number of her projects if it meant he'd get the credit. Fucking egomaniac…
However, this document… something about this file being in Julius' notes bugged her; her instincts screaming that something about this document being here was important.
Starting from the top, Ursula read…
Bernard Research Company - Acquisition Record #11-462624-ABFE12 - AT-X
Specimen Catalog ID: VS-223
Vendor: Classified
Source Location: Classified
Listed Sale Price: N/A
Final Sale Price: Classified
Specimen Information
Species: Xenomorph
Sub-Species: Unknown
Date of Birth: Unknown
Physical Description:
Specimen is described an unclassified, undocumented morphology of human-based Xenomorph by vendor.
Specimen deviates from standard Xenomorph morphology determined by non-invasive scans in several key areas:
2.0 m shoulder height. Approx. 2.3 m crest height. Notably larger & stronger than average Xenomorph.
Altered Morphology - First glance reflects exterior traits of Xenomorph Queen, on much reduced scale. No secondary arms, no ovipositor. Altered head-crest narrower, flatter, denser in proportion to Xenomorph Queen crest.
Altered Sexual Anatomy - Specimen has organs reminiscent of male sex organs, including testicles (internal), prostate, notably enlarged Cowper's glands, and penis. Tests indicate specimen may be fertile & able to reproduce sexually. No fertile female specimen exists to confirm theory. Raises questions about genetic makeup & epigenetic expression of Xenomorphs.
Altered Psychology - Specimen appears to display altered behavioral patterns from documented standard Xenomorph drone behaviour. Brain structure appears to be identical to standard Xenomorph (unconfirmed). Mood of humans who interact with Specimen VS-223 appears to worsen/alter in consistent pattern (moodiness, restlessness, mental discomfort). Must study further.
Recommendation(s):
New Study - Note: Specimen may display signs of intelligence/psychological effects. Recommend long term series of studies to determine nature & applicability.
Intake Approved - Ursula Nigel
There was more information listed afterwards, a mix of graphs and printouts of various tests, but those were irrelevant. After all, she'd written this report after all. She was the one who suspected Valen might be special after all.
What caught Ursula's attention were the notes typed in at the bottom of the first page. Notes that she had definitely not written. Notes that Julius must have added to this copy of the report; a copy only he had access to.
What are you doing Julius?
Notes:
001 - Subject VS-223 viable for cloning? Initial tests state yes, contact K.B. for further information.
002 - Fertile, can reproduce without hosts? If so, far easier to produce on industrial scale.
003 - Unexpected effects from staff interacting with specimen. Scientists reported hearing voices in their head when interacting with subject. What does this mean? U. wants to study it, if this specimen isn't viable she may find a use for it.
004 - Telepathy? I'd call Ursula crazy if she wasn't so thorough. WTF did K.B. do?
005 - VS-223 appears to mentally harass observers into quitting. Two reported mental breakdowns & required treatment. Psychological warfare? Difficult to make any observations, specimen is too hostile. Will terminate if no results show.
006 - Specimen appears to have bonded with latest human subject. Can be trained to be handled? Need more information. Must acquire project from U. to investigate further when initial research complete.
007 - Need to bond subjects further. Must be inseparable to be controlled by handler. Julianne will implement strategies, will acquire project ASAP. Will discuss results w/ board pending completion.
"Julius you motherfucker," Ursula gritted her teeth hard enough to bite through steel; reflexively clenching her injured fist despite the pain.
Of course she wasn't surprised in the least that Julius was planning on pulling out her project on her at the last minute; that was his Modus Operandi after all. No, what really infuriated her was that Julius had known something was up with Valen; and not only that, he seemed to be directly involved with acquiring him in the first place. But why? To what end?
…And speaking of involvement, who in the fuck was K.B.? Were they the classified vendor? Was it just one person, or was it an organization? In either case, Julius sounded like he knew them personally, but again - why, and to what end? She skimmed Julius' notes again with a more critical eye; trying to glean as much information as possible from the scant scraps of information.
To start, there was Julius' initial notes.
"Subject VS-223 viable for cloning?"
"Fertile, can reproduce without hosts?"
Breeding? Hostless reproduction? Those had been the obsessions of the old corporate giants of the colonial era. By now Weyland-Yutani had been reduced to a cautionary tale; a story that lingered in the realms of a scary bedtimes story for children; a tale of hubris and greed gone too far. Nevertheless, the old corporations had a powerful incentive for their hubris.
Altering and refining the Xenomorph genome to reproduce without facehuggers & hosts would have been the biological discovery of the millennium; fame and fortune for whoever managed to do it were all but assumed. Yet to the eternal frustration of scientist and shareholder alike, the root of what made the Xenomorph's genetic adaptability also meant it was nearly impossible to alter their genetic structure without catastrophic side-effects. The damn things were just too genetically complicated to have a hope of altering their genetic code…
At least that was the accepted theory until now.
Ursula rubbed her temples as she tried to process the bombshell that had just landed in her lap. Could this K.B. have solved the puzzle the rest of humanity had discarded as a lost cause long ago? If someone were to actually create a species of Xenomorph that could reproduce without hosts…
Her stomach felt as though it had been consumed in a black hole; an infinitely dense point that consumed her from the inside.
Whatever K.B. and Julius were planning, it had something to do with creating a safer, more traditionally replicable form of Xenomorph. One that could be mass-produced and distributed like any other weapon.
But that also meant they didn't intend to make Valen. They didn't expect to make a larger, stronger, sapient, telepathic Xenomorph; one capable of bonding with a human. All of that was just a fluke.
Julius had written Valen off as a failure and handed him off to her to see if he could get any value out of him. He'd had no interest in Valen until the discovery of his telepathy, and even then he appeared doubtful that anything would come from it. that If they could replicate their accident intentionally…
Ursula skimmed the file again; eyes frantically scanning for a single scrap of information and found no other referenced to whoever this K.B. was or supposed to be; only to be met with a whole lot of nothing. Whoever had found, or more likely engineered Valen, they weren't keen on being identified.
Ursula took a deep breath to calm herself and closed the file. Those were all questions for later. The notes were alarming, but not surprising. This just confirmed her suspicions that Steven and Valen were in danger; perhaps they wouldn't be killed, but she shuddered at the possibility of them being used as biological weapons in Julius' pilot program concept.
Typical Julius. Ursula scoffed in disgust as she closed the file. He might be a corrupt, egomanical, sadistic shithead, but at least he was consistent. It would be weird if Julius didn't try to use Valen for some military application, now that he could use her work to springboard off of. The man was obsessed with weapons development as we was with taking credit for her work. Why the hell he had never gone to work for the Military-Industrial Complex was beyond her understanding.
Ursula turned her attention back to the file folder where she'd found the suspicious acquisitions report, scanning for any other mentions of VS-223, Valen, or the mysterious K.B. Several files caught her attention, and she added them into the queue to be downloaded when…
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
Three powerful blows on her door caused her to flinch, nearly spilling the now-cold pot of coffee onto her desk. An equally powerful voice shouted from the other side of the door. "Dr. Nigel, open the door! We are under orders to detain you for suspected espionage!"
Shit! Ursula swore to herself. FuckshitassfuckshittingFUCK!
The security team had arrived much earlier than she thought. Her eyes flicked to the corner of the computer screen.
07:45
Fuck!
She'd barely been able to skim through any of the files she wanted to. Now she needed to just grab what she could and…
Double fuck!
Ursula slammed her good fist on the desk. The plan she was beginning to formulate in her head was thrown completely off by the early arrival of the security team. She'd hoped she still had a bit more time to pull the last of the files and deliver them to Steven & Valen herself, along with her plan. Ideally they could have brainstormed a strategy to mitigate the risk of being caught, but now…
TRIPLE FUCK!
Ursula's blood ran cold as the full implication of the guard team being here hit her like a ton of bricks. All the incriminating data on Julius & Goodwin; all the plans & documents Steven & Valen needed; all of her plans; they all hinged on the pair getting the information she had swiped… and the only copy of that info was on the datastick plugged into the computer right now. If the it was accidentally corrupted - or worse, if Goodwin got his hands on the datastick...
"Hang on, give me a second!" Ursula called back; good hand frantically pressing buttons on the keyboard trying to cancel as many file transfers as she could. She needed to finish downloading the absolutely essential files, everything else was a lost cause now.
Unfortunately that was still a lot of data.
The blueprints for the underground forest-bunker's various systems; the incriminating evidence of Julius & Goodwin's crimes; the information about Valen's mysterious origins and the elusive K.B.; all of it was necessary. She needed to make sure the data wasn't corrupted and the stick was kept safe, then she needed to get it to Steven and Valen somehow.
The first problem was the most urgent. Ursula might not have been the most saavy with tech, but enough corrupted and rewritten assignments in University had taught her that the best way to corrupt a datastick was to remove it mid file transfer. Especially on a piece of junk as old as this computer. She needed to let the download finish. If the guards gave her just another minute…
"Dr. Nigel, please open the door right now or we will be forced to breach it!" The guard's voice was powerful; the thin steel door felt like it was barely even muffling his voice.
Fuck! Ursula glanced back down at the screen. Only 5 more files needed to be transferred; the rest of the copy orders had been cancelled or were completed. She just needed another 90 or so seconds; she needed to stall for time...
An idea struck her. It wasn't entirely brilliant plan - or even a new one - but it'd worked whenever she got annoyed at her former dorm-mate's compulsive ignorance of social boundaries.
She shouted back, "Alright fine, just let me put my pants back on!"
"Dr. Nigel, we will… err, sorry what?" The voice that been shouting deflated from a powerful, chest-thumping roar to a mildly worded squeak in the span of one sentence.
Oh thank god, Ursula heaved a huge sigh of relief. Her plan worked.
"I was busy!" She screamed back at him; doing her best to sound annoyed instead of terrified. "I told you to give me a second!"
"I… Ummm…" Ursula heard the beep and crackle of someone thumbing a radio. "Sir, Dr. Nigel appears to be… err…"
The guard - who was obviously supposed to be the one in charge of the team sent to detain her - listened to a very angry voice scream a potent mix of invective and directions to the lead guard.
"Well I mean… I think she's masturbating!" The last word was barely audible; a mere whisper into the radio; as if he was embarrassed to even say the word. "What should I do?"
Again, the voice on the radio unleashed another torrent of invectives at the squad leader; Ursula half-expected the guard captain to storm down here himself just to berate the guy in person.
"Yes sir, sorry sir!" The guard apologized, his confident booming voice back at full volume. "Right away sir!"
The man knocked on the door again, as if trying to break the door off it's hinges with his bare hands. "Dr. Nigel! You have FIVE seconds to open this door or we will break it down! FOUR…! THREE…!"
The man started to count down, but Ursula had bought more than enough time with her gambit. She yanked the data stick out of the socket, yanked the power cord from the socket, and with a savage delight upended the old computer with a heave of her good arm; sending it crashing into the floor directly on it's monitor; shattering the glass with the most satisfying crack Ursula had ever heard in her life.
Before the lead guard could reach "ONE…!" Ursula strode around her desk and swung the door open wide; startling the squad of heavily armed and heavily armored security guards, positioned to breach the door as if they were planning on taking on an entire horde of enemy combatants.
Ursula took them all in with a single sweep of her eyes. There were at least eight guards she could see. One or two were also women who still stood a good six inches taller than her at the very least. Whatever she thought about Goodwin, Ursula had to admit that he didn't fuck around when he was serious.
Ursula repressed a nervous gulp. On the outside, Ursula hoped she appeared cool, calm, collected, and unphased by the small army of guards preparing to breach her small office door. On the inside, Ursula was doing her best to not to hyperventilate. She couldn't let a single hint of panic seep through her facade. Right now, she needed to be supremely confident and unwavering if she was gonna pull this off.
Taking a deep breath, Ursula did her best to channel her inner Valen. A wide, sarcastic grin split her face into a sardonic expression as she took in the guards and snarked, "Wow, there's an awful lot of you here for one person. Are you sure you have the right room? You didn't get lost on the way down here and got the wrong door?"
"I… err…" The squad leader - Ursula now saw that he was an absolute tower of muscle and man; standing at least a foot and a half taller than her - his face flushing beet red at her disarming comment. "We were ordered to…"
"I know what you were ordered to do," She shook her head disdainfully up at the man. "I have ears y'know."
"I'm sorr… err, no… I mean yes! What I mean is that… of course you have ears, k'now?" The guard - identified as L.S. Davies - had been thrown off by her attitude twice in a row now. Clearly whatever Davies was packing in muscle, he was lacking in hustle.
"No shit. Now if you excuse me, I need to use the bathroom." Ursula rolled her eyes and made as if to brush past the guards, but two of the cronies behind Davies reached out to block her path. "Seriously?"
Ursula glared up at hulking squad leader. "Seriously? I can't even use the restroom?"
"I'm sorry ma'am," The gigantic man heaved his massive shoulders in a titanic shrug. Jesus this man was big. Everything he did was gargantuan in scale. "I'm under orders to take you directly to confinement where you will…"
"Look," Ursula gave her best eyes-furrowed, pursed-lips, angry-parent stare and jabbed Davies in his chest with one hand and gestured to the washrooms only a few feet away from her office door. "You have two options if you don't let me go to the bathroom in the next ten seconds. Either I piss in the toilet or I piss on your boots."
Ursula raised herself up on her tip-toes, bringing herself as close to the leader's broad, beet-red face; jabbing his chest to emphasize her point. "Because I don't have a change of clothes, and I refuse to ruin my only good pair of slacks."
Wow that was easier than I expected. Ursula grinned to herself as she slid into the far stall of the women's restroom; stopping only to grab a tampon from a dispenser over the sink. The Bernard company may not be good for much, but complimentary tampons were a nice perk. If she ever met the person who implemented that idea, she'd buy them a drink. Especially after what she planned to do.
Ursula sat on the toilet - bladder now mercifully empty - eyeing the tampon and the data stick clutched in her hand. God… am I really gonna have to do this?
Well what are the other options? She needed to hide the datastick, and there was no way she'd avoid it being discovered if they frisked her. The leader Davies might be squeamish, but a few of the guards were women and she couldn't take the risk.
Before she doubted herself any further, Ursula ripped the package on the tampon open; trying to tear the crinkly wrapping as quietly as she could. Using her legs to hold the damn thing in place, she carved a hole in the cotton fabric, and slid the small piece of metal and silicon into the gap; trying to preserve as much of the cotton as she could to conceal the damn thing.
When she'd finally secured the datastick in it's hiding spot, Ursula pulled out the messenger she used to communicate directly with Steven. She'd been avoiding using it until she had a concrete plan, partly out of pragmatism, partly because she couldn't afford to be distracted to by Steven spamming her with questions.
Fortunately it looked like he'd managed to restrain himself for a few days before finally breaking down and asking for a status update. That was a relief at least. Steven might have been smart, but he was as emotionally stable as quicksand…
Her fingers flew across the keyboard; tapping out a quick series of messages to Steven & Valen. As much as she wanted to tell them the whole plan in detail to assuage their concerns, Ursula couldn't risk anyone finding out about it. That meant being deliberately vague, even if it gave Steven a panic attack.
"God I hope he doesn't blow a fuse…" Ursula muttered to herself. She hoped that Valen would be able to keep Steven together for long enough for her to tell them the next stage of her new, hastily improvised "plan".
With a tap of her finger the final message was sent, and with a crunch of plastic under her heel the messenger met it's end on the tile of the bathroom floor; the remains being unceremoniously tossed in the toilet for good measure. No doubt the guards would find the remains of the device eventually, but that was the idea.
If security found an answer that validated their suspicions of corporate espionage, they'd stop searching for any other explanations and hopefully wouldn't find the datastick. At least that's what Ursula was hoping for.
Task completed, she stepped out of the stall and into the custody of the waiting security team.
Ursula really stole the spotlight for this chapter, Steven and Valen barely showed up. Still, I don't think that's a bad thing.
Ursula has really come into her own as a character as I've written more and more of a solid plot for UT - from barely relevant side character to the primary plot driver - she's really been dragging Steven & Valen along through the middle of the story.
It would be a shame if something were to happen to her :3
As always, let me know what you think!- AX 3