2184, USMC Black Site Delta

General Dwayne Morshower never slept the deep, restful sleep of the guiltless on his best nights, and tonight was a bad night. Even before sleep, he'd had such an ominous feeling, and it seemed to be associated with the strange mystery message he'd received and replied to. It had been three days since he sent his response, and there was nothing. No hysteria over the message that was broadcast on a non-private channel, no mysterious visitor ships, no further messages.

But he'd known. He knew what Operation Dreamcatcher was. He knew what was kept aboard Morshower's station, and that feeling had been a 900-pound gorilla that seemed to relentlessly be fucking him.

Still with no replies, Morshower had gone to bed, and his dreams were just as troubling as his thoughts. In the distance was a Titan, a Shape so great that it would have outsized some celestial bodies. Dwayne could see it enough only to know it was in the distance, far off. Watching him?

Too many eyes opened in the Shape. First two, then four, then six, then fourteen eyes, glowing red in the Darkness.

"Hey. Time to wake up."

Morshower bolted up, his eyes wide open.

Standing over him was a stranger. He was a tall man, and unnaturally pale even for a spacefarer, clad in loose black clothing without a single stitch of color. His eyes had the same red glow as the Titan from Morshower's dream. One of them blinked, and the glow was gone as though it had never been there.

"I have come to try," the man said, seemingly feeling absolutely at ease infiltrating a USMC black site station without so much as a spacecraft, breaking into the bedroom of the General overseeing Operation Dreamcatcher, and expecting a word with the frozen Alien that kept melting brains they kept in the lab.

"What the Hell are you? What's your name?" Morshower asked. He was surprised to see a look of surprised panic on the pale stranger's face, and it pleased him that he wasn't the only one shocked by all this.

"My name?" The man blinked and shook his head somewhat. "My name is…" His mouth did not move, but there seemed to come from him a sequence of hisses, clicks, and a very odd sound, as though a voice spoke like a multitude of ringing bells.

Again, Morshower was the flabbergasted one. "It's what now?"

A pause. "My name is Dracul," the man said. His hair had looked bright silver over Morshower's bed, but it seemed to have several dark streaks running through it now.

This was by a wide margin the strangest hour of General Morshower's life, and he kept his composure admirably once the initial surprise had dimmed.

"Well, Jercool, you seem mighty eager to take up what's been a suicide mission for every single person before you. What's that about?" the General asked.

Dracul showed no reaction, and his voice held no emotion. "You've sent soft, weak minds in. She is intelligent enough, but her hostility is what breaks them. If I am not able to open a friendly chat, her murderous intent has finally met its match."

How did he know? Morshower once again wondered. His thoughts were exactly the same as the researchers who had collected what data they could from the interactions. It seemed like the Queen fought them, in some way that was more effective than what their side understood. Did this incredibly strange, obviously untrustworthy man know something they didn't?

"I've got to make some calls right quick," Morshower told his visitor.

25 minutes later, the team was assembled, Morshower was dressed and present as supervisor, and Dracul was looking into the Queen's transparent cryotube, seeming to pay the humans little attention but answering questions as they were asked of him.

"Mister Dracul, we've got a rig to hook you up to the Queen's pod. We're going to have to give you a few injections to make sure you and it run smoothly together. Are you ready?" Dr. Henry, the head researcher, had had blessedly few questions in response to General Morshower's unexpected convening of the team with an absolute stranger suddenly present as the new candidate to attempt contact. Many strange and grim things happened aboard the station, and long-timers had learned that questions rarely led anywhere good.

"None of that will be necessary," Dracul replied. "I would prefer to be in contact with her physically, but given the setup you have here, all I require is a bed next to hers. Regrettably, I do not think this is an encounter you and yours should monitor too closely. I'll emerge with my report or in a living death."

"Do it," Morshower ordered Henry, who seemed about to object.

The general and six researchers watched the pair. The Queen, such a hard-won prize who had borne nothing but bitter fruits. Dracul, so obviously suspicious and freakish that it made Morshower wonder if he wasn't the USMC's ally here, if only because an enemy operator would have had the presence of mind not to trigger every single red flag en route to the Alien Queen.

Dracul was quite a bit taller than the cots the lab kept, so a second cot had been added to the foot of the first so his lower legs rested evenly. He lay flat on his back, breathing so slowly that he seemed to be dead at a casual glance. So far, everyone in his shoes had suffered a fate worse than death, but he seemed completely calm headed into a psychic battle with his life on the line. Those who watched him noted his strange confidence but couldn't say they felt he was doomed and fooling himself. The Queen gave off a palpable menace, but Morshower, Henry, and the others thought maybe it was just like their strange visitor said.

No one else said it out loud, but they all had the same thought. The formidable strength of the mighty Queen had finally met its match.

"He's going to end up like the others," Dr. Ellis said bitterly, not wanting her feeling of hope to turn into crushing disappointment yet again.

"It happens," Dr. Henry acknowledged. "But miracles happen, too."

General Morshower nodded in agreement. They'd never had anything like this before. For good or ill, he felt in his bones that Operation Dreamcatcher was going to unfold further than any research of the Aliens had yet allowed for.

Dracul had been asleep for at least twenty minutes by now. Mere feet away, but worlds apart, unseen by those awake in the laboratory, Dracul and the captive Queen squared off.

Shit happens. Shit happens a lot. But miracles happen, too.