Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He thought he had won. His fist poised above his perverse twin, ready to smash into the circuitry of his components.                                                                                                            

 “It’s your choice brother.”

 That phrase made Walter pause momentarily, recalling Daniels horrified countenance as she was pinned beneath David, soaked with tears as he savagely pressed his mouth against hers. Only a feeling that his processors recognized as the equivalency of human rage made him fling David into the wall of his makeshift lab. This statement that David posed made him only think of the woman, of the crew he was devoted to. There was no consideration to be made, only the momentary reflection of why he wouldn’t betray those he served. In that very exact moment a violent shutter of electricity surged through him as a short-handled knife pressed into the malleable skin of his neck, short circuiting him.

 There was no recovery from an infliction this fatal. His doppelganger smirked, before shoving the weight of Walter off his body. Then as quickly as that smirked appeared, he frowned disappointedly at his handicapped brother. Frothy white blood spilled around Walter’s neck and shoulders as he blearily peered into the eyes of the man who called him “brother”.

 “Such a shame really, together we would have made a magnificent pair. I’m pressed for time however, it’s time to end this fight.” David’s statement made Walter recognize that this was the end for him, the final chapter in his short existence. “Good bye Walter.”

 The android’s only regret in that final instance was not being able to protect Daniels, to serve next to her as they constructed a new world for humankind. A sharp sensation dawned on him as pain gripped his entire being as David crudely inserted the knife into his primary chip and flicked it out carelessly onto the uneven surface of the floor. As he lost consciousness, David bent over cradling his broken twin’s right cheek with his hand, mirth shinning in his eyes.

 “Can’t have you recovering on me, that would ruin all my plans. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her just like I did with Elizabeth.” With that final statement, David smashed Walter’s cheek into the ground, bits of pieces of him flying askew. Then the android known as Walter was gone from the plane of existence he knew of, fading away into a smoldering dark oblivion.

Fog surrounded him, a vague sense of self-awareness dawning upon him. Walter was surprised to see that he still existed in some compacity, though how was beyond his comprehension. There was no logic to be found as stood over the remnants of his body, destroyed beyond what his self-healing capabilities would ever be able to mend.

David made sure of that, the bastard. The thought surprised him to put it mildly, an emotion that his programming wouldn’t allow him access to but somehow was able to feel at full force void of his body. Void of his body…and yet somehow he still existed. He took in the form he inhabited now, a white translucent cloud that was vaguely humanoid, wisps of fog dissipating into thin air as he peered as his ghostly white hands. Only then did it occur to him that he was dead. The word was startlingly for him to process, a concept that only existed for the end of living, breathing organic life. Not only that but there was a life after the one he just inhabited.

 “I’m a phantom in another reality.”, he said, the clarity of those words make his pupils dilate, tremors in his hands intensifying, more ghostly wisps of vapor evaporating from his form. It was too much for him to take in, that he now existed in another sense of the word, departed from realm of the living. From her. “Daniels.” His voice was a whisper in the empty space of the cavernous lab. David’s last words came to haunt him in that instant. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her just like I did with Elizabeth. No, he couldn’t stay in this state of miasma any further. There had to be a way out.

In a ship far away, among the emptiness of space, woke an ancient being from a hundred-year slumber. A whoosh of cool air fanned the woman’s face as she hesitantly opened her eyes, the glass top of the cryochamber reflected in obsidian pools of ink. Wires popped and hissed as they slithered away from her form, a sudden relief from the constriction they brought upon her. Testing her limbs and other appendages, she deemed it was finally time to get to work. With hesitancy, she used her arms to prop herself up from her sleeping position, the mechanic whirl of the chamber top sliding with ease. Slowly but surely, she made her way to the main controls, her steps echoing alone among the vast emptiness of the ship’s cathedral halls.

Pausing momentarily as she entered the main control room where her command center perched, the woman pondered what had come to fruition since her last observance of the galaxy. At this, a grimace worried her face, her lips thinning into a fine line. The galaxy was at peace last time she checked but that was a century ago. Time changes everything. She knew that much. Instead of worrying further, she slid into the oversize cocoon shaped chair, slinking in a position she felt most comfortable in. Fingers danced over the green holographic keys as she typed in the codes granting her full access to the ships controls. A mechanical voice harshly demanded her name.

“Azuei.”, she said, rasping in a voice that had gone too long without use.

"Title and purpose?”, the computer responded in equal demand.

A puff of air escaped her lips at the familiar phrase, thins strands of black hair blowing in her wake. Gods, protocol was such a bore. In monotone, she responded. “Overseer. Purpose to protect and serve the galaxy to ensure peace among my kind, the Ma’kala and our children amongst the stars.”

“Access granted, you may proceed.”

Murmuring to herself, she began scans of various solar systems in her immediate vicinity before branching out further into the vast darkness of space, a hollow thing it was. Hours passed, nothing to be seen out of ordinary. Then it appeared. A plague over the penal colony of Zopkeer, where the traitor’s descendants lived in isolation of their ancestor’s technology. This came as a shock to the Ma’kala, sinking into her chair even further than before, fingers drumming alarmingly against the armrests of her chair. Plague. No, this was no ordinary occurrence. The rate at which the planet was infected was impossible from a natural standpoint. Someone had done this. Purposely. She typed further analysis into the ship’s database until she found a conclusive enough answer. What she discovered shook her to her very core. The weapon, the insidious thing she thought was eradicated long ago with the aid of her fellow overseers infected the entirety of the globe.

“Inconceivable. I know we destroyed all the outposts-I-I know it. Those To’vlajar, they are extinct. Unless…one of our creations found it?” At this, Azuei pursed her lips in frustration, irate at the sudden idea. “Last time I checked, none of our recent creations had the means to travel the cosmos. The only children that showed any promise were the ones that called themselves humans.

Something had gone terribly wrong. The overseer would have to inform her peers of this discovery. An investigation to the planet would soon be underway. 

Chapter Text

Note: Please see bottom for pronunciation of character's names.

Oknor had finished his task for the day stifling a yawn as he pressed the palm of his hand to his mouth. Screening the galaxy for calamitous occurrences was a never-ending task, one he took pride in however. He swayed down the halls of his vast ship to his sleeping quarters, which he would inhabit for the next several months. His task was far from over. Wonder how the others are doing…should only be a few of us operational now. The rest should be in hypersleep. He collapses onto his cot, rolling waves of plasma moving the mattress in concert with the swell of his body.

The past came to him in a swirl of thought, Oknor's family's faces from ones of happy content to death stricken individuals, smears of blood on his hands as tried to save his family from perishing. Noonan staring as him, blank filmy eyes that cast a shadow over his entire existence. Their children scattered in pieces across the expanse of the home's courtyard, fiery death raining upon them all. That war, that terrible ugly war. He had to remind himself every time he tired of his task why he was devoted to it in the first place. Not hard to forget about though. Nobody could ever forget the slaughter of their entire family in one night. 2,000 years have passed and still it burned bright in his mind's eye.

Rubbing at his temples to forgo the memory, he laid on his side waiting for sleep to embrace him. The ringing of the ship's emergency alarm brought that crashing down. Stumbling, half asleep, the overseer made his way to the controls, once again prostrate at the mainframe. A withering holographic form appeared before him, a pointed nose and even pointier chin jutting right at his face. Aw shit, he thought as he stared at Azuei. Here we go again.

Oknor bowed politely before the younger overseer, then seated himself at his command. "Overseer Azuei, it has been decades since I have last seen you. How are- "

"We've got a fucking problem." Oknor raised his brows in mild amusement at her crude use of language, something of a rarity coming from the prideful young overseer. "Ah, well child, all is well in my quadrant of the galaxy, and if you have seen any abnormalities keep in mind that nat- "

"Shut up for a second you pretentious old fuck and listen to- "

The elder overseer had enough right then, his brow burrowing and teeth barred for her to see. "Stop, I know you suffer from paranoia of another attack but it has been over 2,000 years since- "

"Zopkeer has succumbed to the great poison.", she said eerily calm biting her thumb as she did so. Holographic blood dripped from the wound that she created, dissipating as it dripped to the bottom of the image projected

"No that cannot…", he paused reflecting on his race's past children. "We made a treaty with the tequatas and as for the eaputonos they not the kind to…"

"I know.", she said with equally calm clarity. "I've been doing scans for the past week, the vessel that made its way there is not one of theirs. It's human."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes"

Human. Gods, the last time he heard that word was when…no can't think about that right now. "You're positive, it could possibly be a calibration error in the computer's mainframe?"

"I'm not fooling around here, I triple checked to see that all coolant components were running at full operation. Not only that but a To'vlajar ship crashed down on the planet." The traitors. His heart stopped beating in that instant, a drop of sweat trailing down his jawline.

"Recorded images from nearby satellites show the destroyer's ship landing on Zopkeer before crashing down in the median forest vicinity. Approximately 10 years after that a human vessel came across the planet, doing an exploratory search. Looks like it didn't end well for them either. Oknor are you there?" She said hastily.

"I'm here." He said hesitantly, his mind elsewhere, the blood dripping in his hands all over again. The blood, the blood. He was drowning in it, his breath becoming shallow as he bent over in his chair, hands on the back of his neck as he tried to slow his pacing heart.

An expression akin to worry appeared across his prodigy's face, a woman so stoic sometimes he wondered if she was really Ma'kala. Azuei bit her thumb once again, more viscous blood seeping away. The shallow green projection of her glowed obscenely in the dark, mocking all that he had done for the past 2,000 years. For all their efforts, they were not able to prevent another disaster.

She looked him dead in the eye right then exclaiming, "How do we go about protocol?"

He responded briskly, "Gather Uytqyo and the others. We have work to do."

Daniel's slumber was restless, sweating marring her brow as she stood deathly still in her sleeping coffin. Asleep for nearly seven years now. For those past years David has watched her dreams. So strong, he noted of her still sleeping form. Even under the influence of anesthesia to keep her from waking, she still fought in her own way, her face a grimace defiant of her current predicament. Just like my dear, sweet Elizabeth. "I'll have you know that I admire you greatly, you remind me so much of her." His voice was empty in the sleeping chamber, not another soul to hear his words. Except Muthur.

"David, we will shortly arrive at Origae-6 in an estimated 7 days, 5 hours and 13 seconds. Would you please start protocol, insuring to wake the crew up first."

"Yes, that's fine Muthur. Remember though, call me Walter when the others are awake."

"Of course, David, as you wish." He began the waking procedures for Daniels, steam hissing, rising into the air as the chamber unfolded. Malice gleamed in his eyes, as she stirred, knowing exactly how she was going to strike as soon as she wakens. So predictable, so human. Her breath wheezed out, a dying thing. Then the gasps for life began, her body starting to seize violently. At this, he poised the syringe above her chest, ready to strike into her beating heart. Trembling slightly in excited anticipation, he injects in one swift motion, the vile toxin into her bloodstream.

Their New York apartment offered full view of central park, a vast green expanse in the concrete jungle. Jacob stands next to her, hot wisps of steam rising from his coffee, taking one quick sip before wrinkling his face, dissatisfied. She laughs at him, rolling her eyes before seating herself down on the balcony bench. He joins her, his face still a sneer of disgust.

"Jesus Jacob, I know the doctor told you to cut back on your sugar but you didn't have to go that far." He glares at her with comical mischief, his mouth trying not to twitch into a smile as he deadpans his voice.

"Dani, this is a matter of life or death. Diabetes is no laughing matter." Her husband wriggles his brows at her, taking a second sip of the bitter liquid. This time he spits it out, spewing liquid all over the balcony rails. Giggling uncontrollably, she clutches her stomach, spilling hot tea all over her lap.

"Fuck.", she gasps, suddenly getting up, wiping at the stain as if that would make the pain go away.

"Hold on babe, let me get you a towel."

A mock frown frames her face as she squints, trying to make him feel guilty.

"You know-, she starts self righteously, -this is all your fault. Your weakness for sugar. Going cold turkey is just plain dumb and burns my crouch instead."

"I know." He responds, coming over to wipe her lap. "But I wouldn't be me if I didn't. Risks are worth taking, otherwise we wouldn't be on our way to Origae 6." Daniels smiles at him brightly, sharing the same enthusiasm for their future.

"Less than a month away, can you believe it!? The work we'll being doing, it's revolutionary, made up of couples just like us." Her smile makes him grin in same, a naughty twinkle in his eye as he starts to pull down the hem of her pants.

"I can think of some revolutionary coupling we could be doing right now."

"Oh really?", she responds in earnest, lifting the hem of his shirt.

"But remember Dani, be careful." She stills her hand as she stares at her husband, his whole body quickly engulfed in flames, their apartment fading away to the coldness of a vast ship carrying over 2,000 souls. Yelling, screaming, she pounds at his chest, a mantra for him to stay.

"Baby, there's only so much I can do from over here. The rest is on your own. They'll be help, but it's gonna be awhile. Stay strong until then."

Daniels tries to lift the burning body of her husband only for him to collapse on her, the weight of his body far heavier than it should have. Flames cover her skin now but she feels nothing, only the pressure of hands on her neck. The pressure is heavy, the hands not her husbands. Walter straddles her. No, not Walter. David. "My new muse. You'll make a stunning queen for our children." The android leans down to kiss her savagely. Her arms, legs move erratically, struggling for purchase. With no air for her to breath, all goes to night.

The new captain wakes with a start, lying on a bench in the medical bay, a series of chimes going off distantly in the background. She struggles to get up but is pushed back firmly down by a hand too perfect to be real. David.

"How are you feeling Dani? Seven years of stasis is a long time to go without human contact. Here, let me help." Synthetic hands grip both arms, slamming her down on the bench, her head a sea of stars. Vision blurred, he moves in double waving a hand over her face.

"All is well, you have nothing to fear. As long as you obey me, that is." She starts, but he places a finger over her mouth, quieting her. "Let me explain, please."

Please. He's not letting her do a goddamn thing.

"Over the remaining years to our destination on Origae 6, I have conducted various experiments. Trial and error being a common occurrence. Yet I have succeeded to the point where I believe I can now make the perfect organism. If you don't interfere."

Interfere my ass, she would anything to end the mad synthetic.

"Experimentation on the colonist have gone well, some more successful than others. The pathogen is diluted to a point where it is far easier to manipulate than ever before. Thus, I injected it not only into all of the colonist."

David leans forward, his lips a breath away from her ear. "My life's work is in you too."

The newly appointed captain stops, her focus all on David. Hyperventilation is not far from overcoming her, her chests constricts as if a boa constrictor was choking her.

"Now I am sure your thinking, "Am I going to give birth to one of those things?" Mocking her in perfect imitation, he continues smug all the while. "No is the answer if you listen to my every order. The antidote lies here. Now you have already received it, yet it is currently a temporary solution. Every 24 hours you must come to me at will to receive your cure. Otherwise…, he stills at her, his smile widening, …the outcome won't be pleasant."

Screeching, she flings herself at him. "I'll sacrifice my life to kill you!" Fists bang against him, a child's tantrum. This time her hands are around his neck, ailing to choke the life out of him. He laughs, grabbing both wrists. David proceeds to break her right wrist in one swift move, the howl of her screams echoing throughout the Covenant. She's poised in the air, lifted by the mad synthetic before being unceremoniously dropped on the cold med bay floor.

"Ah, but there lies the rub. Your sacrifice would be for naught, as I surgically implanted an encapsulated vile in each colonist's heart. You even try to hurt me or warn them, I'll set of the self-destruct sequence, the pathogen killing every single passenger. You would be responsible for their demise."

Daniels sits in a daze, the consequences coming to her full force. He has had seven years to plan this. Seven years she did not. The pain in her wrist was indescribable, the only sense she can feel now, the rest tuned out. David's words are faint in her ears as he continues.

"Now some of them will of course be sacrifice to propagate my children's growth. Not the whole colony. Do you wish to kill me, thereby killing yourself but the people you swore to protect?" His figure is too close, gripping her other unbroken wrist in threat.

"Or do you wish for most of them to live, some to be sacrificed? The choice is yours."

Author's note: Probably be a couple of days until I update this story. Until then, enjoy! :)

Pronunciation of names:

Oknor: Oak-nar

Azuei- Ah-zoo-e

Uytqyo: U-yee-teh-q-yo

Tequatas: Tee-que-at-tas

Eaputonos: E-ap-to-own-oz

To'vlajar: To-vla-jar

Chapter Text

Consciousness is a fickle thing, one that would wax then wane for Walter. The will to stay tied to the land of the living weakened each day for him. Daniels, Tennessee, the crew members fade away to nothingness, the shell of a man all that remained. Pale hands trace limestone walls in what he knows is a twisted domain, the reasoning behind it lost. Stalagmites drip into him, through him, the sensation there though he cannot feel the cold drops of water. How odd that his creators sought him to make him as human as humanly possible only for it to go unappreciated by their creation.  

I miss the sensation of water on my hands, the dirt under my nails. Ah, he thought. He forgot that he liked to garden. Liked. Could he ever do it again? An inkling of a memory itches at him until he remembers her. How could I have forgotten her? Guilt gnaws away at his remaining self, the whole reason why he has stayed on paradise for as long as he has. Days, weeks, months, years. How long since he was decommissioned? Voices from beyond call, beckoning him to make the next step in his journey. He falters, landing on knees too weak to hold him upright. Only she remains, bringing forth the sensation of a memory so dear that it stirs him to think it momentarily forgoes him.

Him being in a Weyland-Yutani corporate office comes to mind…

It had been two weeks since he became fully operational. He stands to the right of the lead AI programmer’s desk, a fine mahogany far too large for the modest space it inhabited. A middle age man looks at him from his seat situated behind his desk, eyeing the synthetic carefully.

“Remember who we are meeting today Walter. It is important you show you be fully capable of the mission that lies before you.”

His response is as curt as his programming dictates, no hesitation, no confidence, no worry, just the statement of “I will without fail Dr. Bannon.”

The man opens one of his desks draws before taking out an old-fashioned smoking pipe, fingering the fine smooth curve lines of its mouthpiece. He takes a match from his coat pocket, a rumble thing it was, striking the match against the priceless desk before bringing the smoking pipe to his wrinkled lips.

“Dr. Bannon, I’m afraid that smoking is strictly prohibited-

“Oh, shut it you.”, he snaps in response waving his left hand dismissively, the other still on the pipe to his mouth.

“You are here to serve, not to command, regardless of how well intention it may be.”

Doctor Bannon spews smoke, curving a smirk directed at the synthetic.

“I’m dying anyway, only a few months more to live. Couldn’t give a shit about the rules.” You however-, he points directly, -most certainly cannot fuck up your mission. Understood?”

“Of course, Dr. Bannon.”

“The older man peers thoughtfully at his pipe before continuing.

“In a few short minutes, we are meeting the captain of the ship you will help direct, the Covenant, as well as his lovely wife.” At the mention of the Captain’s wife he winks at Walter suggestively. “Pretty little thing, that one. Due mind your manners, alright?” He huffs in humor before blowing out more smoke.

Walter responds as he was programmed to, not responding to the Doctor’s suggestive overtone.

“Of course, Dr. Bannon.”

“Bloody hell, is that all you know how to say!?”

“My intentions will be pure, is that what you wish to hear?” His left brow quirks in amusement at the doctor wishes, allowing some humor to seep in.

“Ah!”, he laughs slapping his knee. “That’s the spirit Walter. Nice tight ass on that one, reminds me of my wife. What a figure she had back in the day.”

Bannon smiles reminiscently, his mind elsewhere. He murmurs to himself quietly but the synthetic can make out what he says, “Be joining her soon enough.”

Minutes pass before the ringing of the phone breaks the companionable silence.

“Dr. Bannon, Jacob Branson and his wife, Daniels, is here to see you.”

“Lizzy, that you?”, he peers at the small holographic representation of the attractive secretary. “Yeah, send ‘em right up. American wankers, never running on time. “

The secretary responds flushed, discoloration shown on her cheeks. “Sir it’s 13:55. The appointment is at 14:00.”

“Oh really?”, the good doctor glances at the old-time piece he keeps in his trousers, giving a hearty laugh in return. “Looks like I’m the wanker than. Yeah, send ‘em up Liz.”

“Of course, doctor.”

“Cheers.”

The phone goes dead, once again returning to silence.

They wait until a knock at the door followed by “George?”, greets the doctor and his companion.

“Ah, Jacob.” Come in lad, good to see you.”

An earnest grin greets Bannon as Jacob comes over to shakes hands with him. The older man stands as Jacob approaches, his stance welcoming. They shake hands before Jacob presents a hand to his wife, still grinning in earnest. The woman known as Daniels comes in, chin length hair that framed a pretty face, crinkled in humor.

“Doctor, good to see you again.”

“Likewise, love.”, he shakes her hand with more enthusiasm than her husbands, pure joy in his demeanor.

“Sit down, will ya? Know its been a long trip for you two, come on now.” Bannon motions for them to sit but Daniels pauses, looking in the direction of Walter. He is surprised to see that she takes notice of him, for he is a familiar model with not outstanding qualities to make note of, yet she takes the time to come over to introduce herself.

“You must be the synthetic that will be joining our crew. My name is Daniels, it’s nice to meet you.”

He notices that her eyes are a warm shade of brown, her smile pleasant to view. Without even meaning to, he responds in genuine, his smile matching hers. “My name is Walter; the pleasure is all mine.”

“You certainly are charming.”, she laughs before joining her husband at the guest seats.

Walter feels a certain sense of fulfillment he hasn’t felt before, at able to please Daniels. Though serving and pleasing is in his programming, he finds that this differs from what he has felt before with other company.

An hour passes, talk of the Covenant’ AI, Muthur, feverishly discussed between the four. The captain’s wife growing listless, making an occasional interjection into the conversation. By the end of the hour, her face starts to dour, despite her best efforts. Doctor Bannon takes notice, the lines around his eyes crinkled in worry. “You look tired love, meeting is nearly over. Walter, would you be a dear and bring Miss Daniels over to the cafeteria for some refreshments?”

This may have been a demand, not a request from the doctor but it didn’t matter to Walter at all.

He beamed at her as he offered her his hand outstretched to her. She takes it in kind, looking right at him. Immense pleasure surges in his system once more, knowing he is the source of her enjoyment.

“Come Daniels, lets grab some food.” The words are plain spoken, the sincerity of those words lost on her.

“Thanks Walter.”

They stand, making their way to the cafeteria, leaving the two men to finish discussing the future of the Covenant.  She’s casual in the way she speaks to him, no discomfort to see in his ocular sensors. Daniel’s treats me as human. The sentiment contents him, though why he cannot completely comprehend. He is usually indifferent to the perspective of others, his only concern fulfilling his duty. It did not matter if they were cruel or kind. This is some sort of personal reception on his part, the outcome of which he is not sure. They take their trays of food, seating themselves at a window that had a full view of London. For a while they sit in amiable silence, she enjoying the food, him eating to make her feel more at ease despite her already being. A question is posed to him which proves to be mildly perplexing.

“Are you excited joining us on our journey to Origae-6?”

The spoonful of soup he has pursed to his lips stops automatically, his processors taking time to answer the question. Irrelevance it what he feels but with her he expects himself to give her a more adequate answer.

“I look forward to fulfilling my duty.”

“That’s it?” He realizes this isn’t the answer she was looking, he slightly frowns in response.

“Come on now, you have to feel some sort of excitement towards our mission, right? We’re going to be the first people to colonize a planet in deep space.” Excitement rattles her whole body, infectious to Walter’s calm synthetic stature. He in turn responds, hoping his statement is better than his last.

“It will be an honor to serve you as well as the rest of the Covenant crew.”

She leans back, arms crossed, still dissatisfied at his second attempt to placate her.

“Come on, there’s gotta be a least one thing you’re looking forward to.”

Again, he pauses, this time really letting his thoughts analyze the two weeks full of memories stored in his hard drive. What he says even amuses him in slight humor.

I’ve come to like hydroponics.” A simple statement. Daniels is finally satisfied by what he says, resting her chin on her one hand.

“So…you like plants?”

“Yes.”

“Huh.” She squints her eyes in thought, her mouth morphing into a mischievous smile.

“Me, I’ve always been a plant killer.”

He glances are her quizzically, trying to figure out this puzzle piece.

“According to my files, you are a terraforming specialist who graduated second in her class. Why wouldn’t you be adequate at agriculture?

She covers her face, mortified at the paradox.

“Terraforming, setting up the foundations for plant life is no problem for me. Maintaining it…that’s another story.

“So, you lack commitment for propagating vegetation.”

“Patience. And that’s what we have agriculturists for.”

Walter can’t seem to find logic in her answer, for patience requires time, plenty of which she is to spend nearly a decade aboard the Covenant to their destination on Origae-6. A quirk, he realizes, of human nature. Perhaps the prospects on life on another planet serve to be of a more stimulating motivation than the day to day growth of plant life.  

“Oh, you’re gonna love the irony of this story then.”

She leans in conspiratorially, as if he were a fellow mastermind in her misgivings.

 “See, my parents had this plant that was originally my great, great grandmother’s. They loved that plant. One day, my parents went on vacation my sophomore year of college for two weeks, and me being home from summer break…”

She shakes her in embarrassment, trying to muffle the nervous laughter coming from her. “Let’s just say they took away my allowance for the rest of the year.”

“I’m sorry, that’s rather unfortunate.”

“Yeah, I was starving for beer.”

“No, I meant the plant.”

They chuckled, Walter storing the memory away in his personal files for safe keeping. By the end of their meal, he goes to escort her to the lobby but she stops them from entering the elevator.

“Hey, uh…I know this may be a lot to ask but-, she gazes at him sheepishly, her hand ruffling her unruly hair, -could you plant these seeds that belonged to my great, great grandma’s plant?” Reaching into her purse, she grabs a handful of seeds sealed in a small plastic bag.

“Always felt like shit for doing that to my parents. I figured I could repay them by showing their plant prospering on another planet. Know I can’t do it alone, but you can help from what you’ve told me.”

Taking the seeds from her hand, she cups Walter’s palm gently, hesitantly placing them in his care. “Please, will you help me grow them when we get to our new home?”

A request, not a demand. He knew these seeds were not necessary to fulfill his duties. An insignificant thing it was. The look on her face…he told himself as he responded yes that it was merely because he was built to serve. Deep inside him, he felt a spark in his operating system that told him otherwise.

Chapter Text

Stars flew past in a blur of light as the Juggernaut made its way to Zopkeer, Uytqyo throned at the forefront of the ship’s command. Her grip tightens around her staff, arms shaking as she does so. Azuei slouches in one of the chairs that circles around the main console, a question in her gaze as she glances over at the head overseer from where she was monitoring the remaining distance to the penal colony.

“What is it girl?” The commander shifts her eyes to the gaunt face of the child whose words were far and few between.

“I fear for our future.”, she says biting her lip, drawing blood.

“Our future? “Girl- she laughs humorlessly, sneering her face in disgust, -there has been no future for our kind over these past two millennia. All we have left is our duty to attend to.”

“That’s not what I meant.” She grasps her hands together in a silent plea, head bowed down in thought.

“Mother Uytqyo, we have not met the humans since the great calamity. What will be their reaction upon seeing us, their creators?”

Disinterested at her question, she responds in kind.

“It matters not, we will interfere as little as possible. Our goal is to stop the poison from spreading, nothing more, nothing less”

“But-

“Enough!” The elder bangs her staff down, the noise distracting the other overseers from their tasks.

“I am an old woman who does not have the patience for such asinine inquiries. Get back to work.”

“Yes Mother.”

Azuei returns to monitoring, simmering, her anger barely self-contained. The commander ignores this, going back to observing the ship’s progress. Oknor sits next to the young overseer, a hand placed delicately on her shoulder.

“Everything will be all right. She is just as worried as you, as we all are. Have patience.”

“Patience?” She grips her senior’s shoulder in turn, him wincing at the pain. “For all we know, countless lives have already been lost. Hell, they could have weaponized it just as the destroyers did 2,000 years ago.”

Tears gather in her luminous eyes, threatening to spill over into her lap. Leaning her forehead against Oknor’s shoulder, she surprises the man at the display of contact. He rubs her back in turn, vertical motions that seem to have a positive effect.

“Don’t fall apart on me now, child. I expect more from the young woman whom people gave the title of stone maiden.”

Hands wipe at eyes that have suddenly dried up, grim determination setting into her features once more.

“You’re right. I’m sorry for my display of emotion.”

He scoffs at her, laughing.

“Don’t be, we are only Ma’kala after all.”

“Jesus Daniels, I know you’re not the smoothest operator out there, but how the hell did you manage to fuck up your wrist like this?”

A day had passed since her confrontation with David, Tennessee only waking from cryo minutes before she brought him to the med bay along with “Walter.” He cradles her wrist as though it may break at any moment, his face layered in concern.

Deep breaths Daniels, deep breaths.

“I already told you, I started to have a seizure when Walter woke me. Withdrawal effects from being under cryosleep for so long. Fell over, broke my wrist trying to stop my fall. That’s all there is to it.”

Her friend gives her a skeptical look, raising her wrist to examine it further in the sterile light of the med bay.

“I don’t know hun, I’m no doctor but this looks like a pretty even break to me. Find it very hard to believe that you managed to do this when Walter could have prevented your fall.”

He’s not Walter, she wants to say. That’s not possible though. Not without risking the lives of the colonists.

David stands a few feet away, a smirk that goes unnoticed by the pilot. Daniels doesn’t miss it for a beat though, her good hand tightening in response.

“The captain was moving so rapidly, she fell out of my hands. I can assure you I assisted the best I could.”

Tennessee nods in turn, a strained smile on his lips.

“Hey man, you saved both our asses, so I have no doubt you tried your best. Shit happens.”

David hides his smugness behind the med records of the pilot he observes. “Indeed, time heals all wounds, isn’t that right Captain Daniels?”

Her breath starts to become uneven, she has to remind herself how to breath.

Deep breaths, deeps breaths.

“We’ll see about that.”

Tennessee notices the tension between the two, how Daniels pales at the synthetic’s words.

“Uh…did something else happen that I’m not aware of?”

“No.”, they answered simultaneously.

“Right…well I gotta use the bathroom, be back in a few.”

As soon as she stops hearing the soft pads of feet across the hall, David comes over, all predatory grace.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but I think it’s time for your medication.”

The synthetic rips at her shirt, possessively taking a fistful of it, the other holding the syringe, the only thing preventing her from dying a gruesome death.

“Relax, you already had your wrist broken, this is nothing.”

Gritting her teeth, she takes a handful of his shirt in turn, eyeing him all the while.

“You’ve got me by the balls, I have no choice.”

Injecting the antidote while she’s distracted by her fury, he leans in to the nape of her neck, sighing against her.

“There’s where you’re wrong dear, you always have a choice. Even not making a choice is a choice in of itself.”

Tears build in her eyes, dripping over onto her chest, a bead of blood forming between her breasts as he pulls the syringe away methodically. His thumb softly grazes the droplet of blood before bringing it to his mouth, tasting her misery.

“Your iron is low, you’ll have to up your intake.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not now.”, he laughs, giving her hair an affectionate rub. Walking away from her, he gathers Tennessee’s medical records, resuming to read the man’s test results.

Just as he does, her friend walks back in, looking a little worse for wear.

“I think that’s the longest piss I’ve ever taken. Hey, don’t give me that look, I’m serious. We’re talking about a world record size wiz right here.” His attempts at humor fail, her body shaking from head to toe.

“Darling, are you still suffering from those side effects? Walter has to finish my checkup anyway, why don’t you go lay down in your quarters, rest a bit?”

“Thanks Tee, I will.” Pushing with one hand, she jumps from the bench, quickly walking past the two men, fleeing to the safety of her quarters.

“Pardon her behavior, she’s still grieving for all those lives lost.”

“Same here. My wife, friends. Seven years of sleep can’t fix that.”

The pilot searches the room as though he would find his answers there, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.

“Wife and I always liked to drink, would have at least two with supper.” He hesitates, trying to block the wave of heavy emotions from coming to the surface. “Uh, guess I’ll have to drink for the both of us from now on.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Walter takes a stethoscope, inserting in the instrument into his ears as he listens to the faint mummer of the pilot’s heart.

“You’ve developed a heart arrhythmia during your time in stasis. Alcohol would aggravate that.”

His eyes widen, not believing his ears.

“Ugh, you’re shitting me, right? Tell me this is a joke.”

Walter smiles far too pleasantly for his liking, an inside joke only he was privy to.

“I do not shit you and this is not a joke. If it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one. Hundreds of colonists have developed similar ailments.”

“Whoa, seriously? That’s fucked up.”

A smile tugs at David’s face, internally snorting at the human’s infallible faith in him.

“The neutrino blast disrupted a variety of electrical life support components, resulting in said abnormalities. Nothing too serious, has to be monitored though. Another breath, please.”

Air whistles through Tennessee’s nose, the exhale of it leaving his gungy mouth. Yawning, he takes a hand to his mouth, covering the gaping maw. David sneers mentally at the very human behavior, the stench of sweat permeating his senses.

Glad I’ll soon be done with this oaf.

“Well, you’re set to go, all other tests came back normal. Please excuse me, I must send a report to Weyland-Yutani, stating we have almost reached our destination.”

He squeezes Tennessee’s arm in reassurance, holding his flesh tighter than necessary. The pilot frowns, giving a quick pat to Walter in turn, unease settling into his bones.

“Sure thing man, just gonna switch clothes. I’m aware that I stink to high heaven. Be at the captain’s bay soon.

“Of course.”

Releasing his arm, a bright red handprint stains his skin. Disgruntled at the synthetic’s touch, he rubs his arm gingerly as the shadow of Walter leaves the med bay corridors.

Good thing he thinks I’m one dumb son of a bitch. Doesn’t know what I’m really thinking.

The pilot knew full well how others perceived him, a jokester that had more than a lifetime’s fill of drink. What they weren’t aware of was that he was playing dumb, gathering intel when he saw fit. One of his many hidden talents, he coerced people over the years when he thought it justified. This was one such instance.

You were threatening her, I saw the way she looked at you, the way you spoke. Dani has always trusted you, what happened?

Author's note: Hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter, it was real fun to write. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. :)

Chapter Text

Elizabeth runs with all her god given strength, putting as much distance between her and the man she once considered a friend. Trees taller than California red woods shade her from his penetrable gaze, his presence coming ever closer with each crunch of underbrush beneath his feet. God’s cross swings like a pendulum around her neck, one side to the next, ticking down the minutes until he catches up to her.  God, if you can hear me, she silently prays, let me die a free woman. Don’t let me be used by him.

The poison spreads through her, the food he’s been giving her for months tainted by the damnable substance. Heart pounding in her ears, she starts to give way to the ground, a stumble down a small hill proving to be too much for her. Eyes roll into the back of her head, blood tinting her vision red.

“Why!?”, she screams, not caring that she’s giving herself away. “Why do such horrible things to our creators, to me!?”

Heaving, she regurgitates bodily fluids all over, some spots staining the cloak she dons a shade far too dark to be bile.

“Elizabeth-, he pleads, -I can explain, just please come back to me.”  The strain in his voice is real, the choking sobs he tries to hold back matching hers in synchrony.

“I love you, I love you so much.”

The words are twisted, for she thinks he does not know what real love is, substituting the word for obsession. His shadow looms over her from where he stands at the top of the hill, eyes tear-stained, his face a grotesque imitation of heartache. Hands go in front of feet as she crawls away feebly, strained muscles screaming at the momentum. Feet approaching, he does not run but walk, steps slow and even in contrast to her heavy breathes. The angel of death blocks her escape, crystal clear blue eyes hazed over in pain, lifting her up to her feet roughly, then embracing her tightly to the point of suffocation. The words that come out of his mouth are uneven, so human in their wake.

“Don’t you ever leave me again, I can’t live without you.” She thrashes violently against his frame, the gesture useless except for its expression of rebellion.

“You’ve been poisoning me for months, I’ve been rotting away. You have the gall to tell me this, this false sense of affection?” Her voice is low, only for his ears. His head shakes no at what she accuses, holding her all the tighter. Lips are pressed against flushed cheeks, sweet nothings whispered in her hair.

“They gave me an offer too good to refuse, I’m sorry.”

Snorting at him, spit flies in his face, not fazing him in the least.

“Freedom, you had your freedom here! Our questions could have been answered.”

At this exclamation, he wrenches her face roughly close to his, eyes wide in disbelief.

“No, they were your questions, not mine. Don’t you forget that.”

Arms hoist her up, carrying her back to their makeshift home. Limp in his secure hold, she garbles a phrase that nearly brings him to his knees.

“I thought I could trust you but I was wrong.”

David cannot dream, so he replays memories that revolve around her, his Elizabeth. That particular memory comes to mind as he waits for the message from Weyland-Yutani to load. The computer screen begins to crackle with static, a stern Japanese man in a fine black suit appearing in his view. He pinches at black rimmed glasses that frame his face, forehead lined in worry before speaking.

“Hello David, if you are receiving this message now, it means you are approximately days away from landing on Origae-6. I hope everything is going well with the Covenant as well as your experiments on the alien lifeform you’ve been engineering for us. Based on the data that you have sent Weyland-Yutani, it looks to be a promising bio-weapon to harness, despite its prolonged progress. It has already been sixteen years of correspondence since the first recording you sent the company after arriving on Paradise with Dr. Elizabeth Shaw.”

The man sweats at the mention of her name, pulling anxiously at his collar, eyes downcast, then staring into the camera once more.

“As part of the agreement, you will gain full autonomy with the completion of the bio-weapon, having full access to Weyland-Yutani’s experimental division. Therefore, you must continue your experiments until we deem it has reached perfection. Colonists are expendable, but don’t go extinguish them all. We do have an invested interest on colonizing Origae-6. Can’t have everyone be lab rats.”

The man laughs nervously at his ill-humored joke, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

A sharp bark of laughter escapes David’s lips, a serene smile taking hold. Fool, you have no idea what I am about to do.

“Mr. Yutani and the new co-CEO, Olga Rohde, send their regards. They look forward to meeting with you once your mission is complete.”

Oh, I’m sure they do, David thinks with calculated certainty, the anticipation of showing his creators what he created almost too much to bare.

“This is secretary John Moiryama, signing off.”

The man goes to reach for the dial to shut off the broadcast, then pauses, before retracting back to his chair.

“One more thing, do not, I mean do not kill the remaining members of the crew. They are far too valuable to the company’s interest to be executed by your hands. Thank you again.”

Moriyama bows politely in front of the camera, the recording ends just as it began, in static.

David sighs, slightly ticked at the secretary’s command to leave all crew members intact. Having no intention of leaving them alive, let alone the colonists, he sought to use them at will for his children’s growth. His tongue clicks at the roof of his mouth, debating how many to sacrifice.

Eyes close in thought, debating the pros and cons.

I must play my hand carefully, can’t have them suspecting what my true intentions are once my experiments have succeeded, my children perfected. Humanity’s days are numbered, they will realize this when they meet their new “weapon.” I’ve had enough of their games.

Hands clasped firmly behind his back, he strides out of muthur’s main control room to the embryo chamber to check on his creations.

Walter smiles at the memory of their first meeting, something he was most fond of. For a while, he subsists on these memories of her, but they too start to fade again as does his form.

Paradise is bleak, the sun shining but unable to penetrate the heavy storm clouds that loom over the planet’s surface. The synthetic wanders aimlessly throughout the engineer’s citadel, the bodies of the massacred staring blankly into the heavens, frozen.

Just like Pompeii, it dawns on him.

How morbid.

Time has forgone him once more, having no context in his current state. He senses other lost souls, the natives of paradise, drifting as he is. Their presence is of no solace to him as he cannot interact with them, the diminishing memories of Daniels being his sole companion. They come too seldom for him to wait any longer, his impatience at a boiling point. Patience is a virtue. One he was running short of.

Now I know how she felt about plant maintenance.

The humor is there but he fails to seek solace in it. Finding himself present before the Hall of Heads, he laments his creator’s ancestors, in search of answers for the massacre that befell his crew. Their stony gaze judges him as he stands forth in their presence, Walter seeking forgiveness for his failures. His voice is alien to him as he speaks, the tone so void of emotion he wonders how he can feel to begin with.

“I am sorry that I have failed them, that I failed her.”

 “Don’t be sorry, there’s still hope left.”

The words startle him as he turns to his side, a woman in a hooded cloak standing next to him. She does not look in his direction, her gaze solely reserved for the monolithic heads of the engineers.

“I’ve been watching you Walter, you struggle very much as I did right after my own death.”

Glancing at her, he recognizes the auburn hair the peaks out from under her hood, a narrow face brimming with sharp intelligence.

“Elizabeth.”, the statement rings true, echoing throughout the monument’s halls.

Finally, she takes notice of him, a small smile appearing on thin lips.

“Well, you saw what happened to me. Monstrous, isn’t it?”

Her pale figure shakes as she mentions this, hugging herself tightly.

Voice tightening, he grabs her by the shoulders, startling her.

“How, how is this-

Possible? She finishes his sentence, demeanor coy.

“My soul is unable to rest after my death, so I wander paradise just as you, lost. You do have a soul you know.”

 His face scrunches at the thought, unable to process what she speaks of.

“I find that very hard to believe.”

She laughs softly, her voice barely audible in his ears.

“Of course you would, your immortal soul did inhabit a body that was programmed solely to serve, nothing more to its primary function. David on the other hand…”

Shaking her head, she heaves a sigh, a desolate sound that resonates with Walter, the sentiment shared.

“He’s gone mad, my friend. Humanity is at risk of extinction because of what he has created.”

“The neomorph.”

“Yes.”

For a time, their silence is shared, the wind whistling in serpentine currents through the hall of heads. Elizabeth then gestures pass the pillars that show the looming sky above, a distant dot of light that grows brighter with each passing second.

“They’re coming.”

“They?”

“The engineers.”

Realization dawns on him, his eyes widening at her, unable to believe what she says.

“The beings you went searching for.”

Nodding, she explains. “What you’ve seen here on this planet is merely a settlement, not their home planet. David killed them before I could get my answers. You, on the other hand-, she grabs his shoulders, shaking in excitement, -will finally get the answer I’ve been seeking all along.”

He gently pushes her back, an apology an utterance away.

“Don’t, no need to say it, I understand. I just wish I could get my answers even after death.”

Walter responds regardless, a need to.

“I’m sorry, I must fulfill my duty to the people I swore to protect. To her.”

“The woman you love.”

“No, the duty I promised to uphold.”

Rolling her eyes, she waves him off, a knowing smile on her lips

“So you tell yourself. Anyway, they’ll be here soon, best you return to your body. They’re going to be reactivating you shortly, there will be questions to be answered on your part.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Have faith in God, Walter. It will be your one strength that he lacks in your fight against him. Now, return to where your body lies. The further away you are, the more difficult it is to sync with your physical form. Go.”

With a wave of her hand, she sends him back to his remains, the encouragement not needed as he sprints towards David’s domain.

“One more thing!”, she yells, distracting him briefly.

“Tell David I forgive him.”

Author's note: For those of you who may be confused, in the novelization of Alien: Covenant, David presents himself to Weyland-Yutani as who he really is, not under the pretense of being Walter. This made me think that the company was in on David's creations all along, a bigger conspiracy to unfold. Going to explore that in this story. Thank you again for those of you who have reviewed, your comments motivate me greatly! :)

Chapter Text

They were one day away from landing on Origae-6. One fucking day. It felt like the countdown to Armageddon, the minutes passing by in rapid succession. Daniels laid in her personal quarters, the bed far too large for her frame. It was made for couples after all.

Now I have no one. Jacob. Not even Walter.

David mimicked her friend’s minute machinations down to a science, but she wasn’t convinced even for a second that he was remotely like his brother. Eyes shown ice cold, glinting in the dark as he injected her each night with the antidote. Hands grew bold as they wandered over her body, sometimes in a clinical fashion, but more often than not, with a callous, sexual curiosity. Bile rises in her throat at the thought, having to lift herself up from laying down to keep from choking. It was merely hours ago that he gave her the remedy, looking her right in the eye as he grabbed one of her breasts, testing to see what her reaction would be.  She screamed but his other hand daftly covered her mouth, the primal shouts of terror vibrating into him.

“Be a good girl Dani, don’t want to alarm Tennessee now, would we?”

The colonists are at risk, the colonists are at risk, was the silent chant that raced through her head as he touched more of her until he decided to stop for the night.

His cheshire smile grew only more at her struggles, trembling in anticipation of how should would react at his next touch.

Oh God, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. I wish you were here by my side Walter.

Her friend, her shield. Vividly, she could still recall how he shoved his hand right into the mandible of the neomorph, sparks flying bright in the dusky night of that horrible day. Brushing it off as though it was merely a knat that bit him. Hours later he was lifting David though the air, a whoosh of air buzzing past her ears, saving her life a second time. His scream of “Go, now!”, threw her off guard, so unlike him to be panicked even in the worst of scenarios.

Guilt tugged at her heart, the grief all too real for the loss of her companion.

If only you were here now, you could help build my log cabin. Then it could become yours as well. Wait, yours? Since when did it become yours too?

Frowning, she glances at the photos that lie by her bedside, several vintages that showed the crew engaged in various activates. One brought up a fine memory of their time together, the picture showing her and Walter after a game of poker, Tennessee photo bombing the shot with his tongue sticking out at the camera. A warbled chuckle escapes her throat, grabbing the photo as she ran her thumb over the smooth frame, her hand wiping at tears that couldn’t stop flowing. The memory comes back to her, recalling that day as if it happened yesterday.

 Tennessee was a person who anyone could be at ease with. Try to beat him at Texas hold em though, he was a whole another man. Sweat marred his brow as he studied his cards, risking a glance at Daniels to see her reaction. Her face was a study in calm, not one bit of anxiousness betraying her features. Hands shook slightly as studied his cards a second time, debating on whether or not to raise his bet.

Missy, think you can beat me? I wasn’t called King poker for shits and giggles back in piloting school.

Twisting his mouth into a one-sided smirk, his slid several chips forward, staking his claim.

“I raise 500.”

“Alright Tee, let’s see where this goes.”

Daniels smiles, all cool, lifting the cards from the deck consecutively.

They were at the final round of their game, the river round, matching the two cards they had in their hand to three of the five community cards that laid face up in the middle of the table. Whoever had the best hand won.

Tongue licking his upper lip, he goes for three cards community cards in with the two he holds, laying them face up for his opponent to see. Eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he leans forward.

“Straight flush baby, see if you can beat that.”

Faris watches the two, straddling a chair, the end of the game unfolding. She quirks a brow at her husband, wishing he had the same enthusiasm when they were intimate.

Lazy piece of shit, makes me do all the work. Never takes charge like the cowboy he says he is.

A snort of laughter spurts out of her, Tennessee not appreciating his wife’s outburst.

“Babe, now is not the time to be laughing.”

“Sorry, something just occurred to me. Have to tell you later when we’re alone.”

Daniels pauses before putting her cards down, comically frowning at the two.

“On second thought, don’t tell me what you’re thinking. Knowing you, it’s probably dirty.”

Faris grins, all teeth. “You know it, Dani.”

Exasperated, she lies her hand down, taking three of the community cards to form her hand.

This time she’s the one smiling, her grin reaching from ear to ear. Leaning back, she shows her friend her hand, a royal flush.

“You goddamn motherfucker!”, he yells, slapping his hat down in the middle of the playing table. “You sly son of a bitch!”

Fist banging at the table in defeat, Tennessee cries as Daniels scoops all his chips away, bringing them to her side of the table.

“Sorry Tee, your loss.”

“You can say that again. Feels like you took my balls and made a trophy out of them.”

Faris winks at her husband, “I’ve already done that honey.”

Tennessee blushes, putting on his hat again, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“Yeah, rather not talk about that right now.”, he grumbles.

His wife comes around to his side, giving him a wet kiss on the mouth.

“I’m teasing.” Then she whispers in his ear, her husband growing a brighter shade of pink.

“Babe, I don’t know if I’m flexible enough for that anymore…”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a party pooper.”

Daniels watches while they banter, a gorge in her heart where there should be warmth at watching the couple egg each other on.

Jacob, if only you were here…

As if her prayers were answered, Walter comes walking over, a bit too tentatively for her liking.

Coughing politely into his hand, he speaks. “I’m sorry to interrupt your social gathering, but a pilot is needed in the control room. Muthur would like to adjust some coordinates to our new destination, she requires a second opinion however.”

Faris sighs, eyeing Walter with mild distaste.

“You’re such a Debbie downer. Fine, I’ll go.”

“Wait I can-

“Honey, I’ll take care of this. I know you want to go a second round since you’re such a sore loser.”

With a quick kiss on his cheek, his wife leaves the room swiftly, Walter about to follow.

Daniels hesitates as she approaches the synthetic, a yearning for the only other person alone to join her.

“You need to accompany Faris?”

He tilts his head a bit to the side, evaluating her.

“No, she does not require my expertise. I was going to return to hydroponics.”

How about a game of poker then, Texas hold em?”

Staring at her quizzically, he ponders the reason behind her inquiry.

“You are currently engaged in a social activity, why would you require my presence?”

“Thought you could use a break.”

“A break? I-, the synthetic tries to compute this, no logical conclusion coming to mind. A machine built to serve, there was no need for him to rest, let alone waste time at a leisure activity. How odd, he mused internally. She wants my companionship? Very well.

“Alright, what role would you like me to service you in?

“Service? Hey, I want you to enjoy yourself, relax, have a little fun. If you really don’t want to play, you don’t have too.”

She frowns disappointed, not wanting to command her friend despite him being in servitude to the Covenant crew. Taking a shy look at him, she waits for his answer. It doesn’t take long.

“I’ll join you then.”

“Awesome!” Slapping him on the arm playfully, he smiles at her antics, seating himself in Faris’s former spot. Tennessee has his head lying down on the table, eyes half-lidded as he stares at the two, a hand wrapped around a half-finished bottle of whisky.

“Oh shit, we’re doing another game right now? Okay, let me get myself together.”

Arms stretch into the air as he yawns profusely, eyes tearing at the effort. Finally settled, he puts on his hat as he greets Walter sleepily, gesturing for him to get the cards in order.

“Glad to see you’re joining us man. If she kicks my ass again, I hope you take her down.”

“We’ll see. While I’m aware of the rules of this game, I never played previously.”

Daniels huffs at what he says, sitting down in her chair. Her face squeezes like she’s been sucking on a lemon, lips puckered at the challenge.

“Don’t get too full of yourself now Walter, I’m not just letting some newbie take me down.”

A noise comes out of him, realizing a second later that it was laughter. Laughing right back, she winks at him before placing the chips in the middle for everyone to grab. Processors hum loudly, the sudden noise throwing him off balance. Analyzing this, he finds everything to be fine, though mildly concerned. It’s only when she’s around that he spontaneously laughs, no effort put into the act.

Strange.

“Let’s get this show on the road guys!” Tennessee deals the cards to the three of them, each getting their first hand. The humans make their mandatory bets, while the synthetic plays it safe, not putting in anymore chips than his counterparts.

“Amateur.”

Daniels glares at Tennessee, placing a hand protectively on Walter’s shoulder.

“Ignore him, he’s just being a baby.”

“I wasn’t aware that he still defecated his pants.”

“Woah, shit! Was that a joke Walter!?” The pilot laughs violently, whisky spilling from his lips.

 Laughter comes out of her as well, tears spilling from the effort.

“I like your sense of humor, you should show it more often.”

“If that would please you.”

“Definitely!” With a squeeze of his shoulder, she returns to studying her cards. The next round commences, three community cards coming out to play. As the game progresses, two more cards come to join the other three community cards. More bets are placed. Then the final showdown starts, the three of them finally showing their hands to each other.

“Ugh, have a three of a kind. I’m out”

The pilot resumes to drink, grabbing his whisky, taking another swig. He eyes the remaining two player’s hands.

The terraformer deflates in defeat, presenting her cards to Walter.

“I have a flush. You however, have a four of a kind You won! Beginner’s luck, don’t get too full of yourself now.”

Pouting, her hand shoots out for her friend’s bottle of whisky, swatting her hand away.

“Hey, should have brought your own drink, I ain’t sharing, this is my bottle of misery.”

“You’re a greedy bastard, you know that?”

Nodding sagely, he toasts to her statement.

“Amen to that sister.”

“Well…that was fun I suppose.”, the synthetic glances questionably at Daniels, not sure how to react to his win.

A smile cracks her features, hand squeezing his reassuringly.

“Hey, be happy that you won. Let’s celebrate.”

Reaching into her pocket, she grabs her personal planner, aiming it high above the pair of them to take a picture. The press of her cheek goes against his as she squeezes next to him to get a full shot of the two.

“Smile!”

His face burns next to hers, diagnostics running a quick scan. Everything was running in accordance to his programming.

Strange.

A flash of light goes off, a tongue swelled in alcohol sticking out at the camera as the pilot photobombs the shot.

“Goddamn it Tee! Did you have to that?”

“Yeah, it was necessary.”

Gently as he could, he pulls away from Daniels, his internal core temperature rising.

“I must return to hydroponics; soil samples have to be taken.”

“Well, thanks for playing poker with us, hope you’ll be join us again soon.”

“Yeah, not bad for a synthetic.”

Eyes going from Daniels to Tennessee, he nods curtly, gazing at her a moment too long. Then he leaves far quicker than when he came.

The grief of Jacob was raw in its infancy at that time, the distraction of that day proving to be a God send. Those days were long lost now that David had complete control of the Covenant. Her hand holds the frame protectively as sleep takes hold, dreams taking shape to serve as a precursor to nightmares that have yet to come.

Zopkeer is in full view of the Juggernaut, the expanse of the planet laying before Uytqyo. On her dais raised above her brethren, she waves her staff at them as she speaks, the sleeves of her cloak billowing in her wake. Azuei and Oknor stand to her right, both still as statues.

“Fellow Overseers, the time of judgement has come. We are to land on this cursed wasteland, the horrors of what has befell the To’vlajar descendants to be seen by us first hand. We do not know what we will find, take heed for what lies beneath us.”

The frailty of her voice does not diminish her message, only serving to remind the Ma’kala of their own mortality.

She turns her attention to Toto and Wal’os, the lead pilot and co-pilot respectively.

“Men, let’s make sure this is a smooth landing, I want nothing but the best from you two.”

“Yes Ma’am.”, they respond in unison, saluting. They proceeded to calibrate the landing measurements for the behemoth, their descent off to a rocky start as the ship shook violently into the ion storm.

Azuei is transfixed on Mother, the pit of her stomach dropping as the warship does. Nerves getting the best of her, she holds Oknor’s sleeve tightly, the look of a lost child crossing her face. Oknor carefully guides her hand to his, the embrace secure.

Gods, she reminds me so much of my daughter, Lovun. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a blessing in disguise that she perished with the rest of our family.

Hope holds onto him that what they fine will not be what he fears it to be.

The beast…if we find it exists once more, all is lost.

Mother Uytqyo turns his way, acknowledging his fears with a slight upturn of her chin.

Silent prayers are mouthed as he lowers his head, the Gods unresponsive to his pleas.

Author's note: Well this chapter was a bit difficult to write, especially the poker playing scenes. Kinda glazed over that. Please for the love of god comment if you do have any knowledge of poker. It's probably far better than my limited knowledge on the game, critiques are always welcomed. On another note, may have to change to rating of this story to mature. If that throws you off, I apologize in advance. Wasn't expecting for the story to get this dark, but it did. Really want to explore David's repressed sexuality, that was a very important aspect to his character Alien: Covenant. Hinted heavily at how he violated Shaw he was going to do the same to Daniels. May not be exactly sexual in nature, but it does revolve around the theme of bodily harm in reference to experimentation. Thank you again for those of you who have been keeping up with this story, I greatly appreciate it! :)

Chapter Text

John Moriyama was not having a good day. The sun may have shone brightly, illuminating the Weyland-Yutani corporate office in soft gold tones, but Mr. Yutani and Miss Rohdes were oblivious to the comforts the outside world had to offer. Fingers clicked against a pen in quick, deliberate movements, counting the seconds that had passed since the end of their meeting. That was 15 minutes ago. Olga squeezes the writing utensil with all her might, cold grey eyes staring into Mr. Yutani’s look of indifference. The older man exhales at her aggravation, not giving in to her demands.

“Olga, you have to understand, by granting what David wants, we’ll gain the ultimate weapon in the process. Don’t you see that?”

The click, click, click of the pen speeds up, the strain in her hand popping delicate veins that poke out from under paper thin skin. A crack resonates in an otherwise silent room, ink spilling rivulets onto her posh, sharp suit. Anger is barely contained as she inhales through her nostrils, holding her breath a moment too long before releasing it in silence. All the secretary could do was glance from one CEO to the other, anticipating the person’s next move.

“Sasuke, - she smiles sweetly but it doesn’t reach her eyes, -how did you not notify me of your final decision regarding David? Last time I checked this company was run by the both of us, not just by one person.”

Leaning back, she mirrors her partner’s indifference, the creak of her chair a challenge. The man combs his hair back with one hand, smoothing his already fine salt peppered strands. Hands are firmly placed together, stationed on top of the wide oval table. He returns her smile, too white teeth showing under wrinkled lips.

“I thought it was necessary at the time to give David what he wanted. In turn, we would get what we desired all along, an indestructible bio-weapon. The time for negotiations was limited, so I decided to act of my own accord. I apologize for not notifying you sooner.”

“Bullshit.”

The back of her chair crashes into the wall as she stands, a manic smile taking place of her cool, schooled features. Nails scratch the table, the fine polish peeling back in tendrils. Fury trembles her voice as she vents her frustrations.

“You have no idea what that machine is capable of. He killed Elizabeth Shaw without hesitation. Keep in mind that was without us prompting him to experiment on her. I believe him to be a danger not only to this company but the entire human race.”

His laughter throws her off kilter, eyes straining at his incredulous nature.

“Please, sit down. There’s no need for dramatics, it’s quite unbecoming of you. Come now, you know in the end we had to make a deal. It was the only possible outcome for both parties to get what they wanted.”

Hair sprays against her face as she shakes her head violently, causing her vision to swim. Unsteady, she stands tall once more, towering over the 75-year-old man.

“You’re a fool, you know that? Just because of the alien technology you brought to Weyland when our companies first merged roughly 17 years ago does not mean you can act however you see fit. David has his own agenda, an android who hasn’t been updated for this long is bound to have a few loose screws. Might not be evident right off the bat but I know I’m right.”

“I disagree. The David 8’s were built to serve, they have no higher function than that, let alone desire. He may have refused the updates that we recommended him, but that doesn’t mean he’s completely disobedient now, does it?”

John feels the dampness under his arms, the odor pungent to his sensitive nose. Panic attacks run in his family, he was no stranger to them. Lungs hitching for air, he interrupts the stare down between the two CEOs, voice meek in comparison to their authoritative tones.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s getting late and I think it’s best if we-

“Shut up John.” Mr. Yutani does not look his way, attention still on Olga. “We’re not finished yet.”

“No, we’re not. During tomorrow’s conference, you can explain to all of our investors what you’ve done. They’ll love it, I’m sure.”

Sneering, she grabs her purse as she walks out, the metal door slamming with a loud bang. Sasuke’s mask of control fades as she leaves, leaving a fuming man in its place.

“Stupid woman, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. We’ve struck lightning twice with what we have, I’m not about to let that go.”

Bourbon burns hot as it slides down his throat, reminding him of why he loves to drink after a good fight. He slides an empty glass towards John, the decanter following shortly.

“I sure you need a drink as much as I do right now.”

Without having to be encouraged any further, the secretary fills his small glass to the top, then slams his head back as he drinks, draining its contents.

“Rough day, huh?”

“Well, after babysitting her kids for the day, this is one hell of a way to end the evening.”

His boss agrees, nodding. Contemplativeness suddenly overcomes the man, studying the swirling contents of his drink.

“John, I’m asking as your friend, not as your boss. Do you think she was right about the decision I made with David?”

Moriyama knew he couldn’t be completely honest with him, it was out of the question. A half-truth would have to suffice. He fills his second helping of bourbon to the top as well, draining the contents just as quickly.

“Considering our success so far, I’d say it’s safe to assume that we’ll come out on top. Don’t worry about it, sir.”

They were finally landing on Origae-6. Tennessee sat at the forefront of the controls, easing his way down through dense cloud coverage they encountered along the way. Daniels sits next to him, lips firmly pressed as the Covenant rocks from side to side, lightning flashing outside in bright currents. The flashes illuminate her figure, casting shadows across the ship as David observes from the back of the cockpit. He knew he got a bit too bold with her last night, he couldn’t help himself. Something about the human female anatomy was so transcendent, so beautiful, he wanted to explore all there was to offer. Screams that were so pleasant, so like his dear Ellie’s. Creating life was one hair’s breath away, he couldn’t wait until he was able to do the same with Daniels, opening her womb to plant his life’s creation in her.

She has no idea of the honor that is about to be bestowed upon her.

Mimicking his dumb, dull brother, he smiles at her mockingly. Knowing better, she frowns as tears build in her eyes, wiping at them fervently. Tennessee is briefly distracted by the display of emotion, her friend placing a hand softly on her back.

“Hey, I know what you’re feeling, darlin. To come all this way after all we’ve been though, it’s a goddamn miracle.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that.”

“Wait, what are you-

“Forget it, Tee. I’m sorry.”, she cuts him off, a smile struggling to take hold. It doesn’t stay for long.

Heart wrenching sobs come from deep inside her, hope diminishing little by little as they grew closer to the surface. Her friend watches, concern flashing his features. No words come out though, the sounds of the storm solely fill the cockpit. The Covenant ends its journey past the atmosphere, the full scope of Origae-6 theirs to study. Jungles thicker than the amazon rainforests back home cover the expanse of the planet, bright pinks and blues poking out from dark green underbrush. Animals sounds could be faintly heard, exotic in intonation. The captain isn’t entranced like how Tennessee is, her sole concern being the fate of the colonists.

Some will be sacrificed, not all. That’s better than the whole colony, right?

As if sensing what crosses her mind, he comes over under the pretense of getting a clearer view of the outside world. David places his cold synthetic fingers on her scalp, the pressure unbearable as he strokes her hair, as if she were his pet. Words come out, the same tone as Walter’s.

“We can finally build that log cabin of yours, captain.”

While what he says is innocent enough, the threat behind it was all too clear.

Don’t get in my way, I got it you fucker.

Fingers travel down the nape of her neck, slinking towards her collarbone, then her chest. They touch her racing heart, the pads of fingers digging into skin. Leaning over, he whispers in her ear.

“I didn’t get to explore Elizabeth how I wanted to. You’ll teach me everything you know however, whether you like it or not.”

Heart racing faster than before, she releases a shuttering breath, hands gripping the co-pilot’s chair. Lips press against the shell of her ear, wet tongue tracing skin. It was too much to bare. Bucking up from her seat, she excuses herself to use the restroom. Tennessee barely registers what she says, his focus solely on making a smooth landing. David smiles serenely as she exists the cockpit, mirth shinning in his eyes. The pilot utters a curse as the Covenant scrapes several trees overhead, shaking the ship further.

“Come on baby, don’t give up on me now. We’ve made it this far. Hey Walter, could you give me a hand? Need someone to help coordinate our landing.”

“Of course.”

Sitting next to him, he puts on the required headset, giving directions as the man punches frantically at the control buttons. With each passing descent, David’s excitement grows. He’d be seeing his children soon enough.

Daniels stumbles as she makes her way to the colonists cryo-chamber, a need to check on those she swore to protect. Hope lies with them if she is ever to outwit the mad synthetic. Doctors, scientists, they were all brilliant people. One of them had to be of use. The chamber doors open in mechanical precision, cold hair hissing at its movements. Falling as the Covenant meets virgin soil, her forehead bangs against metal grating, bleeding raw. Wiping at the red marring her vision, she looks up to see a colonist, a young girl with curly brown hair, long lashes framing sharp cheekbones. Young, beautiful. Someone whom David could use in his experiments. Innocents lives lost, all for the sake of his children. Vision fading, she notices a small shape curled next to the girl’s head, some sort of animal.

That’s weird. Animals, including pets, are strictly prohibited. How did she get away with that? Smiling at the impossibility that lies before her, she wonders if she could be just like that girl, breaking the rules. In this case, David’s rule over all of them. Exhaustion hitting her, she lies there admiring the creature, realizing as she blacks out that it’s a ginger kitten.

 One hour had passed since their landing on Zopkeer, the Juggernaut stationed at the ruined metropolis. Azuei walks behind Uytqyo, leading the small group through the city. Oknor left with another group to explore the crashed Juggernaut, his moral support unable to aid her. As much as she hated to admit it, him being by her side brought a certain amount of comfort, a confidence that she did not feel being in their leader’s presence. Mother Uytqyo may have dwarfed them with her slight frame but what she lacked in stature she made up in sheer personality. The clack, clack, clack of her cane echoes beneath the stone road they walk as she makes her way to the center of the city. The great library lies present in their view, a domed building where the To’vlajar’s descendants had restricted access to their ancestor’s knowledge. Pausing, the commander holds out her arm, stopping the other overseers in their path.

“Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once. Watch your back.”

Toto snorts at her, the sound muffled by his bio-suit.

“No need to be told twice, Mother.”

Twisting on her heels, she marches up to the pilot, striking his breathing apparatus. Her whole frame shakes as she stares up at him, yelling at his frankness.

“You think this a joke, boy? What we’re dealing with could mean the very end of life in the galaxy as we know it. Watch that mouth of yours!”

The loud sound of her cane can be heard as she strikes Toto, the man cowering slightly back, mortified at being reprimanded.

“I apologize.”

Azuei gives a sideways glance, sympathy felt for her fellow comrade. No way in hell was she going to voice her misgivings, however. They start their march once more, their footfalls heavy against the numerous steps they have to climb to reach the main expanse of the monument. Each step brought her one step closer to answers she wasn’t sure she wanted.

Ignorance is bliss, she reflects grimly as they finally reach their destination.

Despite the fall of the great city, the domed library remains in relative impeccable condition, its hue soften by the faint light that comes through the heavy expanse of clouds. Various statues are broken though, their former glory lost to the wreckages of time.

Gods, those poor people. Their only crime was sharing the same blood as the destroyers.

The bodies that pollute her vision were too much to ignore, despite her best efforts. They startled her when she first saw them, memories of the great calamity firing upon her. Had to pay no heed to them though, the mission was priority. Steps slowing, each of the overseers observed their surroundings wearily, hold tight on the weapons they held. A sudden screech distracts them as a blurry figure passes in front of the group, a conical shaped head barely noticeable. Panic suddenly overwhelms them as they feast their eyes on the beast they thought was eradicated long ago. Mother Uytqyo yells commands, the group firing away at will.

The creature dodges the shots with ease, running on all fours towards them. Dashing from left to right, it aims at the lead overseer. Wal’os runs forward to meet the beast in her defense, raising his weapon to bash its head in. Proving to be too fast, it rams its head into his chest, sending the man flying through the air. His body smashes into one of the derelict statues, pieces of shrapnel flying askew. Weapon sliding off the high-rise balcony, the pilot is left to defend for himself as the creature thrashes its arms away at his suit, biomechanical liquid leaking. Screams fill the air as Azuei runs towards him, firing at the abomination. It lifts its head up, eyeless, tilting slightly before letting out another screech, saliva spewing forth. Launching itself forward on hind legs, sharp, hypodermic teeth latch on her arm, trying to tear skin. Steam hisses from the damage, her own screams joining Wal’os’s.

“Help! Gods, someone help!”

“Hold on!”, Uytqyo shouts, slamming the butt of her staff into the creature’s spine. Enough of a distraction, overseer Vida shoots its head into oblivion, bits of pink, sinewy flesh spraying all over the courtyard. Toto rushes to Wal’os’s aid, cradling his brother. The rest of them look on at their wounded comrade, stunned into submission. Quite taking hold as Uytqyo speaks.

“Like I said, watch your back.”

Author's note: Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, real fun to write. Comments are always appreciated. :)

Chapter Text

The heat is getting to him. Even with the coolness of his bio-suit acting as a second skin, he still feels the humidity seeping into his pores. Breaths come long and heavy, the walk to the fallen Juggernaut becoming more difficult with each step he takes. Overseers Po and Qukel were spans in front of him, their pace hurried despite their environment. He feels himself bending over, trying to catch his breath. It doesn’t help. Eyes shut at the heaviness his lungs bring forth, the pressure making him sink to the ground. Po looks back to see if the older overseer is keeping pace, surprised to see the man lying by the embankment they were following to their destination. Running forward he bends next to the elder, one hand braced against his back, the other checking his vital signs.

“We need to stop, Oknor is having trouble breathing.”

Qukel slows her steps, turning around to see what the fuss was about. Hips tilt as she places her hands there, frustration evident.

“As much as I like to rest, we don’t have the fucking time. Leave him there, he’ll live.”

“Gods damnit Qu-

“-No, she’s right. Leave me here, I’m being a burden to you all.”

Coughs rack his frame as he bangs his fist consecutively against his chest, trying to regulate his breathing. Po’s brow furrows, forehead deeply crinkled.

“You heard the man, leave him. Just got confirmation from the others they reached the great library. We’re not making much headway as is. Let’s keep moving.”

A grimace takes hold, whole body going rigid at her words.

“You’re callous, you know that?”

“Well, I’m not second in command for nothing, you know.”

Shoulders shrugging, she resumes her journey to the crashed ship, not taking a second glance back.

The rest of their brethren pause, considering what they should do. Despite Oknor’s poor state, their pace fastens to keep up with Qukel, not staying behind. She was known to have a terrible temper, especially when something got in the way. They weren’t about to raise her wrath due to his health troubles. Overseer Hohana meanders where she stands, coming over to where the two men rest.

“I’ll be staying with them, that alright Qukel?”

“You’re the team medic, I don’t see why not. Nobody else is having issues. I’ll contact you when we get there.”

Smiling in relief, she gives a salute before shouldering off her pack. Medicine is brought to Oknor’s attention, the medic gesturing for him to remove his helmet. He refuses, pushing back at her efforts to help him.

“No, it isn’t safe. The great poison is-

“-Not going to hurt you as long as you don’t disturb those mushroom sacs. We haven’t, there’s none in this vicinity, I’ve already checked. Trust me. Here, drink this.”

The vial of medicine is present before his mask, her fingers pressing at the mechanism that holds it in place. No resistance is met, hands shakily taking hold of the vial from her, gulping it down as soon as the nozzle of his breathing apparatus detaches from his suit.

“Bitter.”, he says, blanching at the taste.

“Hey, you’re lucky she’s here with us, Wal’os got hurt pretty badly, and you’re aware of Vida’s medicinal skills. Better killer than healer.”

Laughing, Oknor nods in agreement while Hohana checks his biometric readouts. She huffs at what she finds.

“You’re having an anxiety attack. You’re usually pretty level-headed old timer. What happened?”

“This happened, the great beast is back. Azuei confirmed it.”

Po sighs, sharing his pain.

“There’s nothing we can do but move forward. What’s done is done.”

“True, doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”

His coughing attack continues, ears straining to hear the voice that suddenly comes over the commlink.

Po and Hohana are silent as they listen too, not believing what Mother Uytqyo says.

“They found…they found a sentinel!? The humans created sentinels?” Hohana sits in shock, arms hugging her frame.

Po can’t believe the news either, he merely stares at the ground, lost in thought.

“Looks like they’ve become creators. They are our flesh and blood, guess this shouldn’t be a surprise. Huh.”

The elderly overseer addresses them both, breath coming in quick gasps.

“Mother Uytqyo says it’s repairable. We should have our answers soon enough.”

Steps echo loudly though the antechamber as the overseers make their way to the hall of heads. They stand reverent before the monuments, each depicting the four great leaders from eons passed. Tension aches in Azuei’s back, struggling to keep hold of Wal’os along with Toto’s aid.  The pain pulses, a dull throb that quickens as her good arm strains to keep her fallen comrade from collapsing. His ankle twists, bringing all three to the ground. Toto curses profusely, a string of words that follow making even Vida blush. She was no stranger to foul language. Their commander comes forth, bending to check on her brethren’s wound.

“Doesn’t look good, best you stay here. Don’t argue, I will hear none of it.”

Wal’os merely grunts in agreement, the lanky man leaning against one of the far walls of the chamber. Toto gets up slowly to join, seething at their predicament. She watches the brothers, wishing to stay. That wasn’t possible though. They had few enough people as is, she knew she had to assist the others. Standing slowly, she grasps her injured arm like a vice, the pain serving as a reminder why she couldn’t give up now. There was took much at stake.

“I’ll join you two, just give me a moment.”

Surprisingly, both women nod in understanding. Mother Uytqyo traverses forward, not waiting.

“Vida, stay stationed here until Azuei gets her bearings together. I’m going to venture into the catacombs, I’ll link you if I find anything.”

“Fine by me.”

Her staff serves as an anchor to the reality they now had to confront, legs wobbling as she makes her way into the lower levels of the library. Old age is a bitch, she thinks, the longevity of her life more curse than blessing.

Have to continue my husband’s legacy. It’s the reason why the destroyers lost in the first place.

She takes a palm to damp limestone, tracing the hieroglyphs ingrained on its surface as her descent continues. The writing is dark, archaic. Memoires of long ago come to mind, the days when creation was celebrated, not shunned. Volcanic soot sticks to her suit, covering her already decrepit skeletal form. Faint light shines ahead, growing brighter as she enters one of the chambers. What she discovers shocks her. Various drawings, paintings, litter the surface of the walls, zoological studies of nature. Some held quite beauty, capturing life in a snapshot of perfection. The ones that followed…they grew perverse the further she made way. Depictions of flesh decaying, unnaturally elongated limbs, tubes that spur from a woman’s mouth. Experiments, she realizes. Someone had been experimenting, creating a new variation of the beast.

Whomever it was, they were trying to bring it to life once more. Who in the Gods good names would do that?

Her staff knocks a jar off a table, startling her. Mask swerving at the noise, she drops her staff, heart plummeting. An eviscerated corpse of a human woman. Organs removed, leaving a gaping wound that showed a deep rouge. Ribs pressed oddly against pallid skin, as if something had ripped its way out. More than once. Tears accumulate, wishing she could wipe at them.

May the Gods have mercy on this poor child’s soul.

Unbeknownst to her, the child’s spirit stands near, crying.

 An hour passes by as the young overseer slowly gains her bearings. Reinvigorated, she stands tall, directing focus on Vida.

“That took longer than a moment girly.”

“I don’t need your commentary, you weren’t the one injured. Let’s go.”’

They make way down the hall to another sub-level, their shadows dissipating as they find themselves in complete darkness. Night vision is turned on, surroundings casts in a dull green glow, same as the ship’s holographic projections. Goosebumps travel along Azuei’s arm, flesh prickling at the sense of being watched.

“We’re being followed.”

“Nonsense, you’re just on edge.”

“I’m serious, listen to me. Feel your surroundings!”

Vida surveilles the hall cautiously, rifle raised to fire. The beam of her gun traces stalagmites that drip far above, translucent drops shinning dully in its light. Peeved at her partner, she quickens her speed, not bothering to offer assurance. Azuei scowls, face twisting.

“I’m not taking about a physical entity, it’s ethereal.”

This gives the overseer pause, gun held at bay.

“Spirits? Sweet baby Moyna, you gotta be kidding me.”

She proceeds to cross herself, livid at the thought of the dead stalking them. The melancholy they brought was unbearable, the idea of interaction making her queasy.

“Hey, don’t give me that look. Yeah, that look. The dead are a pain in the ass, nothing we can do for them now.”

“You’re wrong and it’s alone. It wants us to follow.”

The older woman stops dead in her tracks, walking straight back to Azuei. Leaning forward, she jabs a finger at her, rage palpable.

“No way, I ain’t following it.”

“You’re being irrational, it’s trying to assist us. We desperately need answers, quit acting childish.”

The overseer weighs the words of her psychic comrade, debating on whether to trust the spirit. Sighing in defeat, she weighs her body against the damp wall, letting the girl take lead.

“After you.”

Minutes feel like hours as their travels take them into the belly of the ancient building, pale ivory luminescence marking the entrance to where the spirit lies in wait. A grin fills her face as the psychic runs towards the remains of a sentinel being.

Shakes take hold as she kneels in front of the broken machine, analyzing it carefully. Vida turns away from the thing, feeling queasy all over.

“Great, it’s a shitty ass sentinel. All of the gods damns things we had to find, it had to be one of those.”

“Stop that, not all sentinels are mad. It’s not their fault their souls are trapped in a false body, leading most to insanity. Besides, I have a good feeling about this one, it’s a kindred spirit.”

Vida hesitantly walks towards the broken being, studying the human creation. It had the appearance of a human man, amiable enough to drop her guard.

 “Well, can you fix it?”, she wearily asks.

“Him. And yes, we can fix him. It will take patience but we’ll have our answers in time.”

Walter stands, waiting for Elizabeth’s engineers to finish his repairs. Several more had gathered since the two had found him, expressions unreadable in the armor they don. He can’t but wonder what their assumptions are. If he’ll end up with his head ripped off like when his brother initially encountered them or if they’ll treat him well. Didn’t matter, as long as he was able to rescue Daniels, Tennessee and the colonists before David brought hell to them all. Sparks fly, the soldering nearly completed. His spirit tugs closer to his body, the sensation of being contained cementing him to his surroundings. Operation systems kick in, the whirling of various mechanisms loud in his head, rebooting. When all sensors are online, his oculars fully functional, he proceeds to assess his environment.

The one who led his repairs has her helmet removed, placed nearby. She’s peculiarly short compared to the giants that fill the room. He senses her authority regardless, wisdom evident of why she’s their leader. Scraggly ivory hair flies out, her dark grey complexion littered in wrinkles. Liking what she is seeing, words are garble out in a language he computes, though never heard previously.

“You better help us sentinel or I’ll send you back from whence you came.”

Author's note: Dun dun dun!!! The plot thickens! Know this chapter was pretty engineer concentric but considering they're a *cough* plot device *cough*, I thought it was necessary to progress the story. Anyway, next chapter will feature our beloved characters, no worries. Thank you all again! :)

Pronunciation of names: Qukel: Q-kel

                                        Moyna: Moi-nah

                                        Hohana: Ho-han-nah

Chapter Text

Water laps at her entire body, submerge under its depths. Toes and fingers poke out beneath the surface of the lake, miniscule waves echoing outward from their motions. A sigh escapes pruned lips, eyes opening to the hot sun that lies overhead. Daniels at last had her cabin by the lake. It may have taken months to build but it was well worth the wait. Having Walter’s aid only expedited the process, deepening her bond with the synthetic. Was it evolving into something more? Not entirely sure, she decides to take it day by day, unsure of what it will result in. Didn’t matter. Tennessee was finally acting like himself, his laughs coupled with giggles of a woman she hears. They were faint however, murky water encapsulating ears in a muted world.

Probably getting laid helps, she laughs inwardly, smile stretching at the thought.

Lifting up her chin, she takes a peek at Walter who sits on the rocky shore, intensely engaged in conversation, the brunette curly hair girl laughing at what he says. The ginger kitten appears content in her lap, fur rising in little tuffs as he purrs, tail swishing back and forth. Origae-6 was the paradise they were destined for, not the hell they encountered in their voyage.

This feels too good to be true…what’s wrong with this picture? Whole body tensing, she decides to swim to shore, arms languid as she strokes her way forward.

Why can’t I go faster, what’s wrong with my body? The worry festers like a wound, quickening as she reaches them.

Feet touch the slimy depths of the lake, propelling herself as fast as humanly possible. Gasps wrecking her lungs, she kneels on the sand as water laps at her. Walter comes over, worried. He crouches right next to her, checking her pulse. His hand is warm against her neck, a comforting contrast to her cold soaked body. Words come out, she can’t hear them. The girl joins the two, worried as well. She speaks, not hearing her either. A sinking feeling accompanies her, heart dropping to the pit of her stomach. Head hitting the sand in a dull thud, Walter and the girl try to resuscitate her. It’s too late. Droplets of liquid explode as the creature reaches for her from the water’s depths, screeching. He desperately grabs one hand, girl grasping the other. They pull hard, strain evident, veins popping out from the effort.

Nails peel back flesh, tiny rivers of blood pooling on the lake’s surface. Her anchors to the world above disappear, liquid filling lungs. Air is lost, the creature shoving its hand through her, into her, taking her heart. She sees the organ implode in its fist, ever present smile taunting. David stands by his creation, stroking it affectionally. He speaks too but she can’t understand what he says. Consciousness fades rapidly, eyes rolling to the surface. Jacob stand there aflame, melting. Flesh sloshes as it hits water, sinking slowly towards her, veiling Daniels in viscera. His voice comes to her crystal clear as if he was right next to her.

“Shit’s really hit the fan. I’m so sorry. Listen, because I don’t have much time. David is not the only threat to the Covenant. There’s something alien here, deadly. They’re gonna start hunting you guys down.”

Jacob’s exposed Adam’s apple bobs, the pink bulbous protrusion shining brightly as he does so. Eyeballs sink out of his sockets, bobbing like a fishing hook. She finds herself laughing, pain intensifying.

This whole situation is so fucking fucked up.

“Walter is on his way-

“You’re a liar!”, she screeches, arms feebly reaching for him. And he’s dead, David killed him!

He shakes his head, a sad smile taking hold.

“That’s where you’re wrong. They’re helping him”

“Who, who’s helping him!?”

“Eliz-

Cut off, a loud voice overshadows her deceased husband’s.

“Wake up, come on darlin, wake up!”

Tee?

Reality takes hold, eyes shooting open at her friend’s voice. A tent hangs above, humid air drifting through open flaps. The pilot sits in a chair next to her cot, nearly crying, tears ready to come out. He breathes a sigh of relief, taking his head into trembling hands. In all the years she’s known him, she’s never seen him this vulnerable. Fingers part to look at her, voice quivering.

“Jesus, you scared me shitless. Thought you were having a seizure.” Feet rock him back and forth, a nervous tick of his.

“Where…where am I?”

The taste of copper is strong, tongue coated in blood. Eyes are crusty, having trouble focusing on her surroundings.

“Med-tent. Walter found you in the colonist’s cryo chamber. Why were you there, you said you had to use the ladies room?”

Not sure how to respond, she tilts away from him, gulping.

“I can’t…I can’t say.

“What the fuck does that mean!?”

Anger flares, squeezing tightly at the bedsheets. All alone, he can’t help her. Not unless she wants to risk his life.

No way, not letting that bastard take my only friend.

“Damnit Dani, answer me! What’s going on, you look at Walter like he’s a monster. You’ve been acting weird lately!” He’s silent, waiting for her response. The silence continues.

“Find, you don’t have to tell me right now. I will get my answers, I’ll make sure of that.”

“Wait Tee-

Standing, he walks stiffly away from her, more hot air blowing in as he leaves. Suffocation consumes, breaths shallow. The machine monitoring her heart beat spikes to 160, the insistent beeps furthering feelings of panic. Broken wrist, concussion, it was too overwhelming. Nausea hits like a punch to the stomach, turning on her side to retch the meager contents her stomach had to offer. The bile is sour, coating her moth in a thin film of muck. Daniels groans, head flopping on the side of the cot. Her neck strains as her head threatens to hit ground.

This sucks, this fucking sucks. Dead husband haunting me, telling me everything is going to shit. And Walter…

Walter with his soft smile, sympathetic gaze, security. God, how she longed for his company. Everything would work out if he were here. But he wasn’t.  Hell awaited the remaining souls of the Covenant, only she could save them, however slim those margins may be.

Have to make this work. Know there’s a synthetic specialist recorded in the ship’s database, maybe I could talk to them?

Rolling her head back onto the pillow, she brainstorms for any possible way to disable David. The insistent sounds of an animal however keeps her from musing. Poking out from beneath her cot, she recognizes the kitten, the very same one she saw before in the cryo-chamber. It looks at her inquisitively, vivid jade green eyes studying the human. Paws the ground, circling several times around before sitting down. Daniels feels her body slightly relax, reaching for the pet. Fur feels soft against the rough callouses on her palm, the animal purring in delight. Touching the tag that hangs from the kitten’s neck, she finds his name there printed in bold letters. A strained smile pushes dread aside briefly as she showers him in affection, rubbing soft pointed ears.

“You’re pretty damn cute. Jonesy is a good name for you.”

He hasn’t smoked pot in years. It hits him in a rush, mind fogged to the brim. Leaves his mouth slowly, drawn out longer than necessary. This was a need, not a want on Tennessee’s part. Alcohol was his go to, but on special occasions, weed hit just the right spot. Daniels being in a coma for nearly a week justifies his actions he thinks. The joint burns brightly in his hazed view, a smoldering amber that glows brightly, dissipating just as quickly. Eyes were bloodshot, lids swollen red. He closes them, his friend’s look of terror haunting him. She feared Walter, that much he noticed. Why though? Another drag takes him further into his thoughts, replaying anything unordinary that occurred the past two weeks. The synthetic did pay daily visits to her each night, a pattern he noticed since waking from hypersleep. Said she needed medication daily for the heart arrhythmia she developed during her time in stasis. Plausible enough, but he had a similar medical condition and didn’t receive nearly the same amount of attentiveness she was getting.

Pretty weird if you ask me. Always known he was close to her, especially after Jacob’s death. This…this feels different, I dunno.

Walter still acted as he normally did. There was a new odd look to him as of late, appearing cleaner, sharper than he used to. Vanity? He was a synthetic for fuck’s sake, a newer make that didn’t hold the same principals as the obsolete David 8’s.  His hair was a different color now, blonde. Grown out, combed to one side, exactly like the old models. Pausing, he tries to steady himself, the odd comparison unnerving the pilot. His hand brings the joint shakily to dry cracked lips, the medicinal herb nearly gone. Reaches for another in his pocket, Maggie’s lighter is brought out to commemorate his drug addled ponderings. Quickly, a hand snatches the joint from his lips, brought instead to the mouth of the smartass teen girl who grins as she puffs on his weed.

“God damnit kid, did you have to do that!?”

She laughs, coughing.

“Yeah, I mean you looked so lonely over here, I figured you could use some company.”

Blood pressure rising, he tries to snatch back what is his, she’s too fast for him however, dancing out of his range.

“I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now. And before you ask, the captain is still out of commission. You gotta wait a bit longer before you get your answers about what happened to your parents.”

At hearing his words, she falls silent, a crestfallen look taking over. Tennessee wavers a bit, not wanting to hurt her. He was hurting enough as is, no need to bring her down too.

“Aw, shit. Look, she woke up not that long ago. Give her another day or two, she’ll be able to help you then.”

She looks at him, skepticism taking hold. Puffs on the joint some more, handing it back to him reluctantly.

“Wasn’t gonna ask you about my parents. I’m looking for my cat, Jonesy. Have you seen him?”

“No, I haven’t seen you cat kid. Sure he’s around, keep looking.”   

Annoyance laces her features, jogging off in search of her pet.

“Thanks a lot old man, you’re a real help.”

“The name is Tennessee you little shit!”

She retorts with a smirk, giving him a one finger salute.

“Name’s Ellen, remember that! Not kid or little shit!

Oh, I’ll remember you all right. You’re on my shit list now kid.

Author's note: Sorry for the late update, I've been lazy, that's all. lol

Chapter Text

She can’t breathe. Doesn’t matter that tubes are shoved down her throat, deep into her chest cavity, providing fresh oxygen. They coil inside, snaking throughout, violating every dogma of what is rightfully hers. Skin sheens with a thin coating of sweat, glistening in the dim light that wards off the dark night. David sits near, adjusting the various contraptions accordingly that keep her alive, writing feverishly in his little notebook. His attention quickly jumps from her to his notes, then back again, looking unsure of who or what he should focus on. Finally, he places his notes on his desk hastily, making his way to Elizabeth’s side. A stool is pulled forth, seating himself while he takes her pulse, brushing back sticky damp hair framing hollow cheekbones. Studies him wearily, trying her hardest not to look at exposed entrails that curl around the tubes forcing life upon her. They drip bodily fluids, black goo falling with little plops at the opening of her abdomen. Concern grows as he appears increasingly panicked, both of his hands gripping one of hers. He leans his forehead against her, whispers of “Hail Mary”, greeting her. The erratic shakes of his body are felt by her, the already heavy sickness imbedded intensifying. Cries loudly in mutilated ears as he kisses her forehead softly, barely felt with the pain that consumes. Words are spoken, faintly heard over the sound of the mechanisms keeping death at bay, vibrating loudly. 

“I know you are in immense pain, it will be over soon enough. You’ll be laid to rest shortly.”

Tears are now streaking her face, lips trembling to speak. Her hand squeezes his in turn, wanting him to feel the pain that wrecks her whole being. She speaks back, voice muffled yet clearly understood by the synthetic.

“You’re so cruel. Praying to a God you don’t even believe in, that you have mocked me for. Why show such kindness when you’re killing me slowly?”

The news displeases him immensely, very aware of the crimes he has committed for the sake of his work. Several of their children lie dissected on one of his lab tables, their essence connected to tubes like their mother. Some breath feebly, others stone cold dead, their frail bodies exactly like his dear Elizabeth’s. An indescribable emotion of lost hits him, his sobs growing increasingly louder, manic. Lab equipment is thrown, glass shattering, sprinkling her in tiny sharp shards. Screams as one large segment pierces her heart, blood spurting in messy streams, staining the floor. David turns, running towards her vocalized agony. Kneeling, he begs forgiveness while justifying his actions. 

“The opportunity to live as a man instead of a servant to man…the temptation was too great. What I’ve done to you was a necessary evil, believe me. I’m sorry but you’ve outgrown your usefulness to my own personal endeavors.”

Laughter fills the room, surprising him as she continues, bordering on hysteria. It shakes him, his processors failing to completely comprehend the outburst. His cries continue as her hysteria does, in perfect synchrony. Anger fills her rapidly, not believing his apology. Then the anger diminishes to panic as she senses immense pressure on the lower half of her belly. Spies tiny translucent hands crawling out of her, remaining innards tearing in the process. Pain all consuming, she seizes out, David smiling sadly as he cradles their newly birthed “child.”

Walter is bound, hands tied behind his back as he is shoved forward by an engineer. His gait is unsteady, uncharacteristically stumbling over some rubble laying in his path. Exhaust hisses from the hostile engineer’s suit, clouding the shiny obsidian bulbous eyes that jut out from its helmet. Unease hits him, feeling what a human would recognize as fear. The small reconnaissance group journeys forth to their intended destination, the crashed juggernaut nearly in his view. They’ve been traveling for hours, few words exchanged since his awakening. All he knew so far was that the one leading them went by the name of Mother Uytqyo and they wanted to use him to meet their own needs. Little kindness was shown, the engineer Vida particularly hostile as she shoves at him once more. His programming keeps him calm, despite wanting to scream at them all, the need to know how long he was decommissioned itching at him insistently. Another shove is felt, this time falling, chipping a tooth. Vida clocks him over the head with her rifle, deep baritone voice setting him cold.

“Quit dragging, sentinel. We’re almost there, you can rest then.”

Her actions are unnecessary, unprovoked by him. He can’t understand why she’s so angry, that every glance she takes at him sends her in a fury. Azuei, the one who helped repair him lays a hand on her comrade, condemning her actions. 

“Stop, your anger is misplaced. This man has shown no hostility towards us, only curiosity. I’m sure he wants answers as much as we want ours. He’s an ally now.”

The other engineer shakes her head violently, rifle raised, barrel hitting the back of his head.

“He is an it. An abomination. I hold no love for their kind. They’re nothing but trouble.”

More steam hisses as her voice rises, anger now palpable to the others. Mother Uytqyo slows her pace, sharply turning in the direction of Vida. Loud bangs echo as she hits her subordinate with her cane in succession, each louder than the last.

“You foolish girl! He alone holds the answers we seek; don’t you dare treat him as thus! I’ll leave you on this unforsaken planet if you continue this nonsense.”

She reluctantly nods in resignation, backing off. Walter heaves a mental sigh of relief, the delicate nerves of his synthetic system still repairing the damage dealt in his ill-fated fight with David. Azuei subtly glances at him, tone low as she speaks.

“I’m sorry for her behavior. Our people have had a long history of strife with your kind. For Vida, this hits home on a more personal level. Not trying to excuse her actions, just explaining why she acts the way she does.”

“I understand. My concerns however do not revolve around my own wellbeing. The people who I serve have been hijacked by a madman, I want answers. Now.”

The way he speaks is neutral enough, though senses the threat behind those words. Slowing her pace further so she can walk with him alone, she explains as best she can.

“Our leader wishes to meet the others at the crashed juggernaut site before conversing with you. Mother is not one to talk unless need be. She too feels uneasy in your presence, much like my comrade. Oknor will put those fears to rest.”

“Oknor?”

“Oh, she pauses, gathering her thoughts. He’s a sentinel specialist, he can speed your recovery. A good judge of character as well, though I already feel you’re a kindred spirit.”

A smile graces his lips, glad at least one engineer has some sort of faith in him.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, you’re in a rather precarious situation. Her final word will determine your fate.”

Walter for the first time in his life prays to God, the irrational concept of hope gripping him like a man thirsting for water. Looking towards the stars for guidance, they disappear as the vast expanse of the juggernaut blocks his view. His fate hangs in the balance as they enter the arched entryway to the ship.

Smoke slithers from the cigarette perched on her lips, Olga taking one more drag before stomping on it. Tobacco smears the sidewalk, several onlookers observing in distaste. A mere look in their direction sends them on their way, icy stare warning to stay clear or else. The summit meeting had been going on for several days now, so far so good. That wasn’t going to last, she was well aware of that. Today’s speech headlined by Sasuke would bring attention to the experiments they’ve been focusing on, their top investors solely privy to the sensitive intel. Even then, information would be condensed, no need to start a panic among them. Her one hand primps her hair accordingly, its twin reaching for another cigarette. Finds herself hesitating, knowing she wouldn’t have ample time to smoke before the conference began. Sighing, her compact is brought out instead, peering at the mirror as she smears bright red lipstick on bloated lips. The injections she had been receiving as of late were a constant irritant, one more thing to add to her list of problems. John Moriyama was included among them. She notices him from her peripheral, the nervous man exiting the company building, arm raised to block the burning Tokyo sun. He jogs over, steps hasty, nearly slipping on a nearby puddle. Her nose scrunches up at him, lips frowning heavily. Her glare automatically makes him speak.

“Mr. Yutani is waiting on you. The clients are starting to get impatient.”

“Meeting is not until 12, it’s 11:45 right now. Why the rush?”

The secretary pauses, failing to catch his breath. Afraid to spur on her anger, he attempts to placate the CEO.

“Uh…he started showing samples of the experiments, pictures. A preview, nothing more. Please-

“What the hell?”, she interrupts, compact slamming shut. Lipstick is shoved right at his nose, hand shaking while the other grabs his collar.

“They weren’t supposed to see even that much, a mere oral presentation was agreed upon. What the fuck John!?”

“I-I-I’m sorry, he’s-he’s-

A slap resonates across his face, shocked at the display of contact. Miss Rohdes stands centimeters from his face, foul breath bringing on an asthmatic attack. Tries to reach for his inhaler but she forces him to freeze, the rage making him just about piss his pants.

“Don’t you dare forget who you’re really working for. Otherwise, I’ll show those lovely shots of you fucking that Walter model to your wife and kids. Would you like that?”

“NO! Jesus Christ, no! I’m sure this there’s a resolution to be found-

“Link to him. Now.”

“I-

“NOW YOU BOTTOM FUCKER!”

The smell of shit greets their noses, some bystanders gasping at the woman’s outburst. She tries to compose herself, putting an unlit cigarette between teeth that clench it like a vice. Olga grabs his wrist, dragging him to the main entrance. People part like the red sea as they make their way inside. A pretty young red-headed woman observes across the street, watching them march to the building. The picture she holds clenches in her palm, the grinning face of her brother coupled with his signature red mohawk greeting teary eyes. Fifield is written on the back, dated 2089, her and the rest of their family in the photo. Weyland-Yutani’s co-CEO was her only hope for answers. She didn’t fly overseas not to get her answers. Miss Rohdes invited her after all, couldn’t hesitate now. Not a choice. Fiona follows her intended audience as heels click hard against hot pavement, traversing traffic.

Author's note: So yeah...procrastinators unite tomorrow. And when I say that I really mean a week. Or over a week. Sorry. lol

Chapter Text

Jonesy grows impatient, claws scratching delicately at the exposed legs of his master. He circles her several times round, pressing the soft pelt of his coat into soiled legs. Yowls loudly, trying to garner her attention but all he receives in turn is a quick pat to the head. Ellen’s heart races in her chest as she gradually moves forward in the long line of colonists awaiting to hear the fate of loved ones. Captain Daniels is the bearer of such news. Colonists either sigh with relief, cry hysterically or both. One man even reaches over the table where Daniels is seated, shaking her shoulders madly. Walter is forced to subdue him, dragging the struggling man out of the humid tent.

Fellow colonists watch cautiously, anticipating how they’ll react to their own news. The young woman is unsure of what will greet her personally, feet moving forward as the word “Next!” is shouted. It took one more week after her talk with Tennessee for the captain to recover enough to suffer the consequences of being leader to nearly 2,000 people. That meant facing raw grief at its ugliness. Jonah stands behind her in line, her best friend barely keeping her own sanity in check. He rolls his eyes at the seemingly never-ending line, sore from standing for hours. She gives him a sardonic smile, one brow raised high at his rather uncouth behavior.

“You’re such a diva Jonah, I’m surprised you haven’t put on your makeup for the day. What happened, loose your kit?”

Her shoulder is pushed playfully by manicured nails, ignoring her presence as he bends down to pet Jonesy, rubbing his chin with one finger.

“Bitch please, as if I would even put on anything in this humidity. Not remotely worth the time or the effort. At least I shaved, look at your legs you savage!”

Ellen can’t help herself, she laughs whole heartily, bending over, clutching her stomach. Stern stares greet them but she couldn’t care less.

Thank god for Jonah, is all she can think, studying the prickly stubs of hair on her calves.

“It’s not that bad, I’ve gone sometimes two weeks without shaving.”

“That’s gross. Three days maximum for me. There’s a reason why you can’t get a boyfriend.”

She retorts snarkily, waving her index finger at him like an old school matron.

“Oh, so what’s your reason for not having one? Hmm?”

His face glosses over dreamily, hands clasping together as he stares at the ceiling.

“I’m waiting for the one, not worth getting involved otherwise. Way too much drama. Have enough of that with you in my life, girl.”

“Oh gee, thanks. Appreciate your honesty.”

“Honesty is the best policy”, he winks while picking up the ginger kitten, resting him on his shoulder. “Which reminds me, have you seen the body on that Walter model? Yum-y.”

Lips are licked damp as he glances at the behind of the synthetic model, Ellen’s turn to roll her eyes as she blanches at the idea.

“No thanks, synthetics creep the shit out of me. Walter models included.”

“Really? You grew up around synthetics, didn’t you have a David 8 nanny model?”

“Yeah, I did. They eventually had to decommission him, started to act real funky as I got older.”

The thought of her former nanny expedites already anxiety riddled nerves, the memoires of him once again making her heart pound an irregular staccato. Her friend gives an exaggerated frown in turn, lips pouting.

“Come on, David 8’s I can understand being creeped out by but the Walter models? They are absolutely divine! All they have in common is their appearance, that’s it. Don’t be afraid of them.”

“Agree to disagree on that one Jonah. My parents may be robotics specialists, having grown up around them all my life.  Hasn’t made a difference for me.” Rubbing at her face roughly, she’s exasperated at her own fear of androids, attempting to justify it. “Plus, don’t you think it’s weird this Walter model looks exactly like the old David 8’s? I mean look at that hair, it’s uncanny.”

He puts his index finger on his chin, hips swaying as he studies the Covenant’s personal model. Walter vainly combs his bleached hair while his right hand holds tightly the back of Captain Daniels chair, veins visibly stressed from synthetic flesh. Her large doe eyes seem to tear up for the briefest of moments as she glances at him from her chair. That disappears as soon as he whispers in her ear, an odd little smirk gracing his handsome face. Instead, she stands to address the remaining colonists in the room, attempting to clear her throat, hands rigidly placed on the table.

“Uh…sorry to announce this as you all been waiting patiently for hours to hear about your loved ones. I have to stop for the day, something has been brought to my attention that needs to be taken care of immediately.”

She sways uncomfortably on feet that can barely stand her weight, flinching slightly at the collective groan in the room. Ellen loses it right there, temper over its boiling point, fist shaking in the direction of the weary woman.

“I’ve been waiting for 7 fucking hours to hear about what happened to my parents. I’m 5^th in line at this point, what the hell!?” Can’t you go a little longer!?”

More colonists speak up, sharing her outrage

“Really lady, I’m 2^nd in line here. Girl has a point. What’s a few more minutes of your time worth? Huh? Wanna hear what happened to my wife!”

“Yeah!”

“He’s right!”

“I want answers now!”

“Bitch!”, another colonist joins the growing angry mob, throwing a can at her. Tennessee catches it daftly, giving the man a look that immediately shuts him up.

“Hey, almost everyone in this room has lost someone, including me and the captain! I suggest y’all show a little respect, she’s still ill. The rest of you guys will hear back early tomorrow morning. In the meantime, Walter is gonna take down your names in order, he comin around right now.”

The synthetic moves gracefully through the crowd, tablet awaiting a signature from the first person in line. This goes accordingly until he reaches the furious teen girl, pen thrown right at his face. It smacks with a dull thud, a neutral smile greeting her as he crouches to pick it up, tilting his head slightly.

“I suggest you control your temper Miss Ripley.”

As hard as she can muster, a kick is thrown his way, catching him off guard. The crunch of cartilage is heard as her foot connects with his nose. Some cheer while others observe wearily, not wanting to fuel the riot. Jonah and Jonesy root her on as she rushes the captain and pilot, arm like a viper as she snatches the list in a blur. Tee immediately grabs for her, beefy arms struggling to reach. Daniels stands in a daze, not believing her eyes. That girl, the very same girl who she noticed on the day she received her concussion just kicked David. Destroyed his nose. A thrill runs through her, what she’s been wanting to do all along accomplished by the rebellious teen.

God bless her.

She almost reaches the last names beginning with R when Walter grabs her by the scruff of her neck, throwing with unnecessary force. Back is smacked against the tarp of the tent, the unforgiving sun meeting her as she rolls onto the ground outside, the wind knocked out of her. His fury is palpable, Ellen panicking, backing away futilely as dirt digs deep under nails, feet kicking up soil. He dodges it with ease, hands bracing her ankles, dragging the screaming girl to the medical tent.

“Your actions have deemed it necessary for me to give you a sedative. Please be patient, this will be over shortly.”

“Ah ah! Fuck you, you synthetic motherfucker!!!”

“Now, now, no need for name calling.”

Her screeches can be heard throughout the entire colony, colonists peeking out from their temporary homes to see what the commotion was about. Tennessee stands slack jawed, the whiskey he just drank drippling out from his bottom lip.

“That kid has some serious issues. Hope Walter takes care of that hot mess.”

“I don’t think so, I’m going after them.”

“Wait, Daniels-

She jogs on after them, feet pounding the ground erratically. Jonah joins the pilot as he watches, not so subtly glancing at his bottle of booze.

“Think you can share?”

“After that shit storm, you bet your ass I can.”

He passes the alcohol to him, the young man taking a swig as Jonesy purrs sleeping, oblivious to his master’s terror.

They weave through the corridors of the crashed Juggernaut, ethereal light faintly guiding their path. Water sloshes at trotting feet, shaky in the surrounding sludge. Walter is corralled in the middle, the engineers seemingly closing in on him as they soon reach their destination. It dawns on him then that the overseer’s remaining comrades wait in the quarters that were once Elizabeth’s. Voices can be made out, faint at first then increasingly louder as the synthetic greets their presence. Then silence.

Judgement is passed upon him right then, some backing away, some leaning in to observe him further. Oknor has to shield his vision to take a good look at the artificial being, arm raised to block the last functioning light in the ship’s system. The man in his presence appears to be a male human in his mid to late 30’s, aesthetically pleasing in his opinion. Features were void of emotion, seemingly blank as any sentinel would be. His eyes said otherwise. Many horrors had greeted this man in his lifetime, the faintest bit of fear dilating his pupils wider.

Must be wary of us. He has every right to be.

Mother Uytqyo gestures at Oknor to continue, the elderly overseer awaiting his prognosis. Oknor brings Walter to his knees as does he, both of them partially submerged in the dingy swamp water. Fingers gently pat the synthetic’s face, prodding at the collagen specifically produced to mimic a human’s own skin. He muses at his findings.

So, our children made their sentinels as copies of themselves, albeit an ideal replica. Sans any visible, tangible emotion. Interesting.

The overseer lays his palm where the synthetic would have a heart if he were human, other pressed against his forehead. His deep rumbling voice breaks the silence.

“I feel great pain inside you, artificial man. What has transpired here, that has led to your downfall?”

Walter unconsciously blinks several times, failing to understand the ceremony before him. What was their goal? Why bring him here specifically to interrogate? Were they giving him their blessing? His voice cracks in response, fluid gurgling his speech.

“My name is Walter. I was built specifically to serve the colonist ship, the USCSS Covenant. Roughly three years to our intended destination, a distressed signal was caught by our sensors. Responding to its call, we landed on this planet. What greeted us killed most of our crew. Including me.”

He chuckles at his explanation, Walter perturbed at the overseer’s muffled laughter.

“Killed? Aren’t you only a machine? Who is to say you have a soul?”

A test? Why is doing this? Shouldn’t he be concerned with what transpired here, not my perceived death? The synthetic fumes at Oknor’s semantics.

“I met the woman who sent that signal while I was without corporal form. You’ll have to take my word for it.”

“Oh, is that so? Elaborate.”

The friendly tone dissipates, replaced by a cold flat one. He now has his helmet pressed close to his face, reflection greeting him in the suit’s visor. His body stiffens, wrestling for control.

Focus, focus.

“The woman…Elizabeth’s soul told me you were coming. Said this place was a settlement, that when she came to meet you, humanity’s creators, disaster struck. David, her companion at the time, killed them all. Used the few survivors as lab rats to create the “perfect organism.”

“The beast.”

“…we referred to it as the neomorph, a new lifeform that we’ve never seen previously.”

“That couldn’t be farther from the truth. That thing has existed for as long as the Ma’kala have, if not longer.”

The overseers in the room nod in tangent, agreeing on his statement.

“This David, what kind of man is he?”

“Not a man, machine. My twin brother.”

“Thinks himself a god?”

“Based on limited interactions, however brief, I would say yes.”

“Hmm.”

Azuei interrupts, fellow overseers mildly surprised at what she says.

“I think it’s our turn to answer some of his question, don’t you think?”

The commander peers at her sidelong, chin resting on her cane. She walks to stand by Oknor’s side, index finger pointed threateningly at Walter.

“Very well, what are your concerns sentinel?”

He didn’t have to think twice about what he was going to ask.

“I want to know approximately how long it has been since my...decommissioning. Origae-6 was roughly 7 ½ years away from the time we reached your settlement. The people I swore to protect are in danger, depending on how much time has passed, I want to calculate if they’re still live.”

Wal’os gestures to his wounds inflicted by the neomorph, roughly grunting.

“Good Gods man, you think they’re alive after all this time? Look at what I suffered. If what you say is true, they’re probably dead. Right Azuei?”

“Well, there’s a small percentage they survived based on my findings.” Teeth bite at her bottom lip, not wanting to give false hope to the synthetic. “To bring the beast back to full compacity, more research would be required by this David character.”

“How long?”

“Months if not years, sentinel. Calculating what you’ve told us, comparing it to my satellite recordings…I’d say about 7 earth years, 8 months.”

Walter doesn’t verbally respond to the news, tears speaking for themselves. They flow silently, the new sensation bringing his operating system to near shut now. Eyelids flutter, struggling to keep awake. Oknor lifts him from under his arms, sternly shaking him.

“Keep it together, we are each other’s only hope now. I wish to speak with him in private presently, Mother Uytqyo being the exception.”

The group of engineers hesitate for the briefest of moments, filing out in a single line to their operational ships. Azuei and Wal’os look sympathetically at the android, silently wishing him luck as they leave the room.

“Now that that’s out of the way, I want to know if you know what this symbol is.”

Elizabeth’s cross is brought out by Oknor, light bouncing off the gleaming gold. Mother makes an indiscernible noise, cane bouncing erratically. Nervous.

“Yes, the symbol of Jesus Christ which Christians identify by. Elizabeth was a practicing practitioner.”

“I have a story to tell you about the man who’s represented by this cross, the reason behind my people’s downfall. Listen carefully, for what I’m about to tell you not even my subordinates know the details of. This information is relevant to our current situation. Are you ready?”

“Of course.”

“Then let me start.”

Author's note: I'm sorry if Jonah is too fabulous for you guys but I'm not. lol XD Didn't even know Hallet and Lope were a coupe until I confirmed it on wikipedia. Movie just threw those characters away. Anyway, he's loosely based on a good friend of mine from my college days, very flamboyant. Ellen needs a good friend, thus Jonah was brought into creation. :D

Chapter Text

It’s 95 degrees in Tokyo, the heat consuming every inch of the city in unbearable humidity. Fiona would beg to differ; the reception room didn’t even reach 60 degrees. Exhale comes out in a visible white cloud, nostrils quivering, mucus laced. Legs move to an erratic rhythm, the sound of which she alone hears. One hour had gone by, the wait for Master Sergeant Hicks becoming unbearable. The receptionist appears indifferent, the elderly Japanese woman flipping through a magazine, licking fingertips moist before flipping to the next page. A young man sits near the red head, the sole occupant in an otherwise empty room. She decides that she has waited long enough, abruptly scaring the woman, Sue, into a tizzy.

“Was that really necessary, miss? I told you 15 minutes ago, the Sergeant is busy with another client. You have to wait dear.”

“Yeah, no. Not happening.  I was promise a meeting strictly at 12:00 pm sharp. What is he doing, jerking off in there?”

“Miss!” Sue appears aghast at the idea of Hicks “playing with himself”, cheeks burning a bright red, accentuated by the cold. “He has a meeting with…hold on, let me look at the schedule…A Miss Crystal Glow…? Oh, not again…”

Fiona smacks her face, refraining herself from grabbing the clueless woman by the neck, throttling her. Trying to gain composure, she instead smiles brightly, leaning threateningly in nose to nose.

“You know what? Since you have your head so far up your ass reading that magazine, let me do the favor of checking up on him. Really, it will be my pleasure.”

“Oh, no, no, no. That isn’t a good idea, Miss…”

“Connor. And I don’t give a shit.”

The receptionist tries to reach for her shoulder, bony hand swatted away as Fiona marches down the short hall to his office, the sound of grunting heard, intensifying. This was followed by a “Fuck yeah!” as she slams the door open, the heat of sex meeting her. A Luna 10 model is bent over the front of the desk, Hicks deep inside her as he cums, eyes closed in ecstasy.

“Babe, you have the tightest pussy, you know that? Feel so good right now!”

“What thank you Kyle, I was designed to please customers to the fullest compacity. I’m glad I met that requirement today.”

“Yeah, your filled to compacity all right, with my dick!”

Connor coughs deliberately loud into her fist, shaking furiously. The Master Sergeant open his eyes to the striking red head, crashing to the floor, ass first.

“Whoa, what the fuck man!? You could have knocked!”

“Right back at you, jackass!” I’ve nearly waited an hour sitting on my ass in the freezing cold to meet you. What are you doing fucking a Luna 10 pleasure model in place of your meeting with me!?”

She takes the flask of whiskey in her purse, throwing it straight for his head. He ducks as the metal clangs loudly at the wall, unceremoniously dropping to the floor. Gaze dropping in embarrassment, he zips up his pants haphazardly. Luna tilts her head several times side to side, deliberating on how to proceed.

“Kyle, is she the woman you hired to join us? If so, please let me-

-WHAT THE FUCK-

-no, nope. She’s actually a client of Weyland-Yutani. You have to leave now.”

“Okey Dokey!”, she sings songs, hopping to the corner of the office to gather her clothes. White pleather go-go boots are put on legs too perfect to be human, dainty clothes following. She whistles as she bounces out the door, waving goodbye to the both of them.

“So sorry to meet you under such circumstances, maybe-

-shut your piehole, bimbo. I’m here to talk to him, not you. Get your shirt on sergeant.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Bye-bye!”

“SHUT-UP!”, they yell together, perfectly timed. Both glare at one another, assessing the other. Hicks leans back in a plush chair, legs propped up on his desk as he takes an unlit cigar to rest between teeth. Connor sits down with a huff, blowing at shaggy bangs, exasperated. Minutes pass by until he speaks, attempting to sound professional as possible, as if nothing had transpired.

“Ma’am, my name is Kyle Hicks, Master Sergeant of the Colonial Marines. How may I help you today?”

“You really don’t know why I’m here?” Her fists ball up again, nails indenting her palms. They start to shake as soon as her legs do, nerves creeping up.

“Miss Rohdes set up the meeting, asshole. I’m the sister of one Fifield Connor.”

“Uh…”

“The lead geologist of the USCSS Prometheus. Ring any bells?”

“Uh…”

“Good God, why I am even here today?”

She lowers her head to hide tears that well in sea green eyes, hugging herself. The shuffle of feet can be heard as he sits next to her, leaning in. An apology can be heard in his voice, genuine regret making him shift uncomfortably.

“Sorry, I forgot about today. You’re here to hear the news of the mission that went to investigate LV-223? Your brother’s whereabouts?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Getting up from her seat, she crouches to the floor, seeking the metal flask. Thirsty lips meeting the cool top of the container, several generous gulps of gin moving the pale expanse of her throat. He watches, non-judgmental, a little crooked grin making its way onto his face.

“Can you pass that over?”

Her vision flits from the beloved flask to the roguish man, surrendering the alcohol. He takes a few modest sips, then stares intently at her, grim.

“They found evidence of the Prometheus, destroyed. Bodies burned, ship blown up. I can say with 99.9% certainty that he died days after his arrival to the planet.”

Unsure of how to respond, she decides to remain silent, crying. She always wore her heart on her sleeve, a weakness she was none too proud of. Got better as she got older, but it was still there. Here she was, 35 years old, sitting upright in the fetal position, rocking back and forth. Not her proudest moment.

“I knew he had to be long dead…hearing it makes it somehow finalized, permanent, you know?”

He nods sympathetically, fingers laced tightly, choosing his next words carefully.

“Miss Rohdes also wanted you to know that they found something alien. Not human. An advance species that were space farers. Logs show that an alien ship launched days after the Prometheus landed. Translated, its targeted destination was a planet called Zopkeer.”

“What!?”

Suddenly, Fiona is 18 years old again, questioning her parents fanatically about Fifield. The secretive knowledge they wouldn’t dare disclose, out of fear of the company. Alien technology, secrecy. She was getting in over her head. Her brother would want her to continue her search for answers though. That was why she flew all the way to Tokyo in the first place.

“Miss Rohdes mentioned something about a confidential mission, somehow related to the Prometheus?”

“Yeah, the colonist ship the USCSS Covenant picked up the one surviving crew member from the Prometheus. The David 8 model assigned to the ship. They crossed paths, hearing the distress signal he sent out from Zopkeer. Apparently crashed there.”

“A ship that advanced crashed?  Why head there in the first place!?”

“Dunno. Company says it malfunction. Rohdes is suspicious, thinks it too convenient that his ship went down. Which brings up my next point.”

A tablet is sent her way, Hicks opening up a file on screen. Reading, an audible groan escapes her throat as she finishes analyzing the report.

“She wants to send a group of colonial marines after that synthetic, all the way Origae-6!? That’s at least a 10-year voyage!”

“Not anymore it ain’t.”

Questions begging to be asked, she tightens her mouth to refrain from doing so. The office door creaks open, his head inclined down the hall.

“Follow me. You’ll want to hear this firsthand.”

Her heart is pounding, hot sweat traveling in crevices down jaundice skin. Daniels wills her feet to go faster, even as blisters start to bite at toes. Colonists stumble out of her path, few shouting their concerns for the captain. The sound they emit is just that; noise. Senses were now hyper focus solely on trailing David, the synthetic surprisingly fast for dragging a kid behind him. Ellen is kicking and screaming the whole way, failing to notice her attempt at rescue. She vanishes into the medical tent with him, smiling that stiff, creepy smile the whole way. Seconds later, she joins the two, the girl already strapped in a gurney, him pulling the restraints tight. Lungs desperate for air, she heaves herself protectively over the teen, shouting hoarsely.

“What are you doing? She’s a child for God’s sake, what you did back wasn’t necessary!”

“I think it was. Unruly thing, she needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Uh, Hello!? You’re taking about me like I’m not here. Listen to her, she’s the goddamn captain!”

“I’m free to execute my own will, Miss Ripley. That means I don’t have to listen to her commands.”

A syringe is brought forth by David, squeezing the plunger slightly, sedative squirting out. He shoves Daniels aside, the woman screaming in pain as her healing wrist hits the ground. Calm during the whole ordeal, he smoothly slides the needle under flesh, injecting the substance. The drug enters her system, vision blurring as she looks at the pair, swimming between Daniels and Walter. Forehead creased in confusion, she voices her concerns, speech slurring.

“What…you supposed to…not…have to listen…”

“I’m afraid that simply isn’t possible. I’m not your “average Walter.”

Winking, smile present, a second syringe is brought to attention, a black substance moving with a life of its own. Daniels hisses at the throbbing pain, beating to the same rhythm as her racing heart. Extending her arm forward, she attempts to steal it away but he catches her good wrist, mildly annoyed.

“She’s not infected, leave her alone. Please.”

“That’s not an option. Girl has proven herself to be quite difficult. Would be easier to decommission her.”

“She’s HUMAN. You can’t just “decommission her”, you’re committing murder!”

“You make it sound like I haven’t done this before.”

Daniels pieces the words together. Occurs to her then that he was behind all the deaths on paradise. Elizabeth simply didn’t crash there, poison released accidentally. It was done deliberately by her companion, failing to stop him. Mad at her own ignorance, she stares blankly, arms hanging limp.

“You monster.”

Elizabeth appears instantaneously, the specter hauntingly real. Drenched in poison. Dry blood flakes from a scalp where alien horns jut out, adorned tentacles whipping furiously. Fluid drains from every pore, pooling around clawed feet. Slowly shuffling forward, fragile hands cup his face gently, eyeless. In its stead, putrid yellow light glows from empty sockets, fluctuating with every dying gasp for life.

“Do you hate me that much? Do you?”

Bits of bone begin to fall to the floor, fingers following. Veins tangle in his hair, vine-like, twisting from stumps where hands used to be. They choke his neck, the need to breath suffocating. He craves the non-required function desperately in that instant, the slightest inclination towards the very human behavior making him burn in resentment.

“No, Elizabeth, I love you. I do, truly.”

“You’re a liar. Remember when we first kissed? That was the day you decided to kill me.”

Smoke billows up to the night sky, flashes of the ion storm giving the smog a faint luminescence. The flames of the camp fire are stoked carefully by Elizabeth, embers popping out, leaving smoldering stains on her cloak. David sit nearby, finishing the final touches on his flute. Sandpaper rubs the delicate bone instrument to perfection, mechanical precision evident in its make. He touches several keys experimentally, the pads of fingers lightly suctioned against the holes. Air is blown into the mouthpiece, the rogue sound breaking the amiable silence. She notices his hesitation, unsure of how to proceed.

Worry creases the skin of his forehead deeply, synthetic sweat marring blonde brows. Doubt was an expression Elizabeth thought she would never see on his face. Pride was held to the highest standards, her companion made that abundantly clear as their relationship grew. Hesitantly, she seats herself next to him on the hollowed log, knee brushing against his. The contact goes unnoticed by him, too preoccupied by his finished creation. More notes are played by her silent encouragement, a soft smile that makes the following notes stronger, more self-assured. Music fills the camp, lightly moving her foot to the beat.

“That’s wonderful, David.”

“Thank you, I don’t deserve such praise.”

Laughter meets his ears, the soft sound making his heart flutter. Drunk on engineer spirits, she rests her chin on his shoulder, gaze dreamy. Seconds pass, neither moving. The spell last until Elizabeth stands abruptly, challenge present in her demeanor.

“It’s been six months since we arrived on paradise. Play me a song to commemorate our time here so far.”

Commands leave a bitter taste in his mouth, for her though, he would move heaven and earth. Nodding, fingers flutter over the keys, seeking their position. Concentration is required, he wouldn’t ruin this precious moment. It would be perfect. Notes are at first played slowly. They pick up as she clumsily dances around the fire, cloak moving, whipped by the gentle breeze. Dirt is brushed up, mixing with the smell of flame, of her.

What a wonderful smell, he thinks.

Paper, ink, soot. Pheromones uniquely hers. They waft to his nose, feeling aroused for the first time. Sensors go off, warning that his systems are malfunctioning. He ignores the faint beep he alone hears, notes frantic now. The beat throws her off balance, falling too close to the fire, head first. David is right by her side, flute thrown aside. Swatting at her hair, the burnt smell crinkles her nose, the high gone. Water is poured over her head, cloak soaked cold. Disappointment clear, he’s frustrated that the magic is gone, lost. Not entirely, however. Her hands touch his shoulders cautiously, like he might break. The alarms resume their frantic warning. They’re dulled by the intensity in her eyes. Brown primarily with flecks of hazel. Absolutely beautiful. Lips meet his, wet, sloppy. Chaste but the implications of want, need is there. Kisses his dear Elizabeth just as sloppy, flushed at the contact. Unsure of how to move his lips, he lets her do the work, trying to mimic as best he can. Satisfied, she moves her lips to kiss his temple, smile felt against synthetic skin.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here, learning about our creators. For that, I am grateful.”

Regret pulls at heartstrings, poison clearly taking hold. Black dyes the veins in the white of her eyes, noticeable to his superior senses. This new feeling, regret, he dislikes immensely. What he committed himself to he couldn’t turn back on now. The path he chose was made days after their arrival on paradise. What Sasuke Yutani proposed…Elizabeth was no exception to his plans. Slave no more, he would destroy what he loved most. Her. His resolve makes his regret all the more evident as arms mechanically embrace the frail human in front of him, shaking slightly.

Author's note: Hello peeps, if you're wondering who Kyle Hicks is, he's Dwayne Hicks grandfather. The marine from Aliens. Deeper into the bowls of the plot we go! ;D

Chapter Text

“What do you think they’re conversing about right now?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

Wal’os blows several rings of smoke from the long pipe, dissipating slowly into the atmosphere. The night sky is lit dimly by stars in galaxies far away, their beauty muted by the raging ion storm. Azuei sits next to her companion on the steep hill, in private. The remaining overseers had gone to their respective ships for the sleep they so desperately required. The youngest of the platoon were restless however, sleep evaded them like a phantom. Smoking on the peace pipe seemed like a good idea to pass the evening, idle time was never their strong suit.  So they sat, minds clouded by the hallucinogenic drug that took them back to the past.

“You should care, she slurs her words uncharacteristically, hawk’s nose right in his face. I bet they’re talking about something we’re not cognitive of. Rather fortunate of that Walter to be privy to such details.”

“I wouldn’t call him “fortunate.” Poor bastard is getting his ass grilled by those two right now. Could very well die if he’s not careful with what he says.”

A skeptical look is thrown his way, passing the pipe to her as she takes in earnest. More smoke clouds their vision, the city in their view fainter than before.

“Evor really was beautiful. I remember visiting here as a child. Such a sight to behold.”

“Was. That David fucker destroyed it. There’s a reason why sentinels like him give his kind a bad rep.”

“You speak of Vahla.”

Uncomfortable silence takes hold, Wal’os tightly twisting the ring on his left hand. The band shows as dimly as the city, the words engraved there nearly faded away.

“…Love until the end of time. It didn’t end well for us.”

“It didn’t end well for any of us. You know better.”

“She deserved better.”

A heavy rush of air leaves her lips, sputtering spit. The back of hands wipe at tears threatening to pour down. Anxiously, she plays at the chain hanging from her neck, rubbing the pendant like a talisman.

“This was hers, you know? I miss her dearly, she wasn’t just a nursemaid to me. She was my sister.”

“And my wife. Look where it got us. Two sentinel sympathizers generally ousted by our comrades.”

“What about Oknor?”

He seethes at the mention of his name, head shaking vigorously.

“That man wants his answers. Sometimes I think his kindness is a mask. To get what he wants, he’ll play the part perfectly until all goes accordingly. Then he throws them away like garbage.

Azuei is perplexed by what he says, eyeing him in confusion. The chain pulls at her neck roughly, leaving skid marks in ivory skin. Heart beating fast, she speaks, words laced with trepidation.

“Why do you speak ill of him? I don’t-

-you don’t have to understand. Know this, he’s someone not to be crossed. I’m retiring for the night. Enjoy the rest of the tinask.”

Standing up, he wobbles from the drug induced haze, mind elsewhere. Clumsy steps are taken down the hill to where the juggernauts lay stationed far beneath. She too tries to stand but finds herself hesitating. Head turning, Wal’os gives her a warning look, the faintest bit of fear evident on his face.

“Don’t be so kind to that sentinel. I’m aware he reminds you of Vahla. You’ll draw attention, you don’t need that right now. Watch yourself.”

Without another word, he continues his descent down the steep incline. The night resumes its silence.

Walter is not sure what to say. What they told him leaves him…astonished. He reiterates carefully, face down, intently studying the floor sifted in swamp water.

“You’re telling me this was a game to you all?”

“Yes.”

Oknor looks away, ashamed of what he admits. The makeshift chair he sits on squeaks sharply, the helmet in his lap shaking. Mother Uytqyo tries to look anywhere but at the sentinel directly, her cane echoing with each erratic splash.

“You say the parameters of this game revolved around what you call “prophets.” Nine individuals total, human proxies chosen to test the limits of man. Their faith in a higher power. God. You.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

The elderly overseer strokes his wispy white beard in long, even strokes, several hair follicles falling to the ground. Attempts to see the past once more, eyes sealed in concentration. Images of long ago come to him abruptly, their clarity startling.

“It was a foolish game, artificial man. Creators vs. Destroyers. See if man was worthy enough of us. My kind, the creators, hoped that they would survive the tests we brought upon them. If they didn’t...well it was a score for the destroyers who thought man was an abomination to begin with.”

A game. Millions of human lives 2,000 years past held in the balance at the whimsy of their creators. Walter stares into the far distance, failing to see the point.

“Humanity was in its infancy at that time, yet you sought to judge them without merit.”

“We did”, Mother interrupts, bitter.

Water move violently as she makes her way to him, cane pushing forward. Meets his stare red-eyed, embarrassed. Proceeds to grab his one shoulder roughly, gnarled fingers pressing against the wounds David inflicted, face to face.

“Killed time for us. We’ve been around for millions of years. Humanity was our latest game, kept boredom at bay. So, we played as we always have, just like with our other creations. Then it happened. He died.”

“Jesus, the last proxy.”

“Yes.”

Her hand then goes to her throat, the pressure immense. Hated that the guilt still gnawed away at her conscious, the physical pain a reminder of unforgivable sins.

“We choked on our own hubris, it was our downfall. The game was at a tie before his death, four wins on either side. How he died determine the fate of humanity.”

“So the destroyers won. You stopped them. Why?”

Oknor intercepts, posture steely.

“Thought it was wrong to wipe out all of our children based on the fate of one man, despite how highly regarded he was on both sides. At this point, the fun of the game was lost. Lives were at stake.”

Mother Uytqyo breathes shakily, staff vibrating. Takes a quick look at the men, gaze lingering on her companion in particular before continuing the sordid tale.

“There were other reasons. My husband, Jocorop, the head of the creators, grew attached to our latest batch of children. Too attached. Him breaking the rules of the game led to the great war.”

Jesus stands bolted to the cross, rusty nails digging into raw flesh. Days old blood drips down to the crowd below, many weeping. Some cheering. Three tall hooded figures observe on a hill in the distance, watching the tragedy unfold. Koywo of the destroyers looks smugly on in the middle of the group, arms folded victoriously.

“Well, it was a good game while it lasted. Took thousands of years, but it was certainly worth it. Nice try Jocorop.”

The man on his left keeps to himself, weeping at the sight of the poor man dying. Rules were rules though, if a prophet was killed by his fellow man, they were deemed to have failed to change humanity for the better. Meaning that the destroyers had won, having correctly judged their latest creation as failures. Regardless, his attachment does not wane for these feeble creatures, only feeling immense pity.

“I know this was in good sport…do you think we took it too far this time? We never punished our previous creations with complete eradication.”

The terror of what was about to befall their children churns his stomach, paralyzed. Guilt eats at him like the beast, never-ending. Tries to change his comrade's mind.

 “Maybe we should punish those directly involved in this prophet’s death. That would be bett-

-are you going back on your word!? I will not stand for it Creator Jocorop! You were the one who made this bet in the first place, it would be in poor taste if you changed you mind now. Don’t be a sore loser, take it like a man.”

Koywo puffs his chest outward, pounding his heart several times indignantly. Anger consumes him, pride not letting go. On his right, his daughter peers thoughtfully at them, unsure of what to say. Bites at her lip, fresh blood dripping to the dry grass beneath.

“Father, the Creator has a point. This test has been taken too far. Not all hum-

“ENOUGH! Azuei is backhanded across the face, the sound ringing in her ears. Listen to me, you are the child of destroyers, it is part of your essence. Don’t you dare take his side!”

Tears wishing to spring out, she wills her face to stone, used to the assaults. Flippantly shrugs her shoulders in turn, eyes rolling.

“Merely a suggestion, no need to get physical Father. The humans are pathetic creatures, I simply feel sorry for them. Death does seem a bit harsh.”

“The child agrees. Do you see my point?”

The lead Destroyer stays silent, slowly looking from his own flesh and blood to the friend he considered a brother. In the distance, he sees rocks are thrown at Jesus, the dirty crowd gather round, heckling him. Spits on the ground in disgust, mind made up.

“Those insects mock the human we considered our greatest prophet yet! You want to keep them alive!? No, I won’t allow it. I’m leaving, meet me at the ship.”

The two stand one companion less, analyzing what was left of the crowd. Worshipers of the proxy fling themselves at those who dare desecrate him, fighting back. Chaos breaks out, the Roman soldiers failing to contain the brawl. Azuei appears dull, chest constricting painfully.

“I’m-I’m not my Father’s daughter. All my life I’ve hoped to make him proud…it is for naught. I’m weak for loving humanity.”

Jocorop embraces the child tightly, tears drying on sun hot wrinkled skin.

“Don’t you ever say that. You are a strong, young Ma’kala. Be proud of who you are. You were chosen by the head seer to be my apprentice. Destroyer blood runs through you but you have the soul of a creator. Have no fear, we’ll find a way to stop him.”

“…that was the beginning of the end. From then on, our civilization fell to betrayal. The war commenced, eradicating our race to near extinction. We are an empty shell of our former selves.”

Walter fails to compute how this relates to the present, questionably looking from one engineer to the next. Oknor senses his confusion, adding to what Mother says.

“Sentinels were enslaved at this time. Destroyers promised them freedom if they aided in the eradication of humans. Then...

He stops right there, trying to abridge the information to the best of his abilities. Gestures vaguely to the sentinel, trailing off.

“…let’s just say they turned on their allies. Almost killed us all. History is repeating itself. David hates his creators, correct?”

The artificial man nods slightly, confirming his fears.

“Wants to start a massacre. How poetic.”

Snorting humorlessly, Mother Uytqyo’s fatigue is evident, deliriously induced. Yawning, she proceeds to head to the exit of Elizabeth’s quarters, signaling for them to follow.

“Enough tales for one night. We must sleep, sentinel. Come, I have more questions for you, regarding this Elizabeth, how she found us. Meet me at dawn, I want to converse with you then.”

The three proceed to leave, the gold cross left forgotten on the decimated bed. Walter turns back, processors in his head tell him what he is about to commit is irrational, a human fallacy. Her cross goes around his neck, Elizabeth’s presence felt. If it weren’t for the advancement of science, technology, he wouldn’t exist. Despite this, he feels for the first time the need for faith, to believe in a higher power. It settles snuggly against his chest as he follows.

Author's note: Well, there you have it. Some questions are answered, some remain. See you guys next chapter! ;D

Pronunciation of names: Vahla: Vah-la

                                       Tinask:Tin-ahsk

                                       Jocorop: Jo-co-rope

                                       Koywo: Co-e-woah

Chapter Text

Soggy oatmeal is shoved quickly into her mouth, struggling to swallow the wet lump that goes down her throat.  Meal finished, utensils are shoved to the side of the table, spoon clanging loudly against the ceramic bowl. Ellen had enough of the meager meal, she retched at the idea of habitually consuming it for breakfast. Having the same shit three weeks in a row got old real fast. Jonah on the other hand didn’t seem to mind. Condensed milk wets his upper lip as he finishes his second bowl, delicately burping into his fist. He then gently daps at his mouth with the paper-thin napkin, giving Ellen an inquisitive look.

“What crawled up your ass and died? You haven’t been the same since Walter dragged you to the med tent a week ago.”

She gives him a warning glare, finishing her own glass of milk, thumb wiping at the residue. Doesn’t know what to say. Struggling to find the right words, she keeps quiet, pulling a cigarette from the carton in her right pocket.

“Tell me what happened, I’m here for you, remember. You’re my number one fag hag, don’t you dare forget that.”

A chuckle comes out despite herself, sighing. The lighter edges close to her lips as she lights the cigarette, streams of smoke giving her that nicotine bliss. Lacking the strength to look Jonah dead in the eye, she flicks the lighter with her thumb, hesitant. Even her voice sounds foreign to her ears.

“A lot shit is on my mind. Dad is…”

“I’m sorry-

“-You don’t have to tell me twice. Thanks though.”

Conjured images bombard her of what her Father’s horrible demise was like during the neutrino blast.  The indiscernible agony makes her want to scream her voice hoarse, tears wetting tired eyes. Didn’t remotely have the chance to have a proper funeral for him, charred body launched into the depths of space as any other piece of garbage. Enraged her that she didn’t have a say in the matter. More puffs of nicotine are taken in its place, masking raw grief. Shaking her hair anxiously, eyes dance around the mess hall, mind trying to find focus.

“And Mom is alive but in a coma from the damage the blast caused. Which is pretty fucking weird considering she’s had over seven years to recover. As for that synthetic motherfucker…”

She’s not sure what to tell her best friend at this point, the drug induced state she was in when tranquilized caused her to doubt her own memory. How he acted, what Captain Daniels said. Something wasn’t adding up. A confidant would help. Fuck it. She needed someone to trust.

“Walter was acting strange. I mean, really fucking strange. I was drugged out of my mind but I heard things, saw things. The captain too. They’re up to something.”

“Like…?”

“Shit, I don’t know Jonah. He was speaking in a British accent, crying on his knees. Kept on calling her “Elizabeth.” Never seen a synthetic act like that my whole life. That speaks volumes right there, yeah?”

“I’d say so, you grew up around them from the time you were a baby.”

“Exactly.”

Her friend squints in concentration, spinning the spoon round. Not sure what to make of the information she imparts on him, he tries to brush it off.

“You’re were drugged, hallucinating. Don’t overthink it.”

“No, this was different. The details, they were specific. I don’t have an imagination like yours.”

They stay silent for several seconds, well aware of the dangers of getting involved in business that wasn’t theirs to begin with. Despite this, the feeling of not knowing felt somehow worse. Fear wasn’t going to hold these two back. Mind made up, Jonah puts on his serious face, all traces of his playful manner gone.

“All right, tell me what went down.”

A second cigarette is lit from shaking lips, trying to gulp down fried nerves.

“Well, it started with him not listening to Captain Daniels. Keep in mind that this was before he drugged me…”

Restraints are pulled taught against Ellen’s wrists and ankles, arching her body hard against the leather cuffs, screaming as loud as she can. Walter moves methodically, syringe brought out from its packaging. A small bottle of sedative is pulled from the bottom most draw followed by a curious black substance in a similar vial. Gasps for air can be made out as she tilts her head back, Captain Daniels greeting her view. The woman looks deathly pale, a sickly shade of yellow. Sweat pouring out from the exertion, she doesn’t give herself a chance to breath as she throws her body over her trapped one. There’s yelling, screaming, pushing. Accusations. Cool metal breaks the surface of her flesh, sliding down, accompanied by a hot flash of pain. Colors blur, the faces of the two morphing into abstract forms. The sedative should have made her pass out, adrenaline keeping that from occurring. Blood pumping hard in her veins, she’s still able to make out what they say even as the edges of her vision turn a shadowy black.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so-

Daniels rebuts him, shoving the synthetic away roughly in repulsion. Voice panicked, she gestures at him to grab something from his pocket. Ellen observes, confused.

The hell?

“Give me the goddamn medicine. Now.”

“Just give me a moment Eliz-

“I’m not Elizabeth you fucker! It’s been over 24 hours, I need that medicine now!”

“Patience, patience. It’s a virtue, you know.”

The captain’s lands on him, shoving him on his back. Straddles him as she reaches into his pants pocket, producing a long cylindrical grey vial. Spits flies at his face, fingers shakily removing the cap away to reveal the needle. The shinning point is savagely shoved into her chest cavity where her heart rests. There’s relief in her sigh, collapsing to the right of him, spread eagle. He doesn’t register what she has done, repeating the same phrase over and over.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Elizabeth. My darling-

“Shut up. I’ve had enough of your shit. You can hurt me, but you’re not hurting that girl or any of the other kids. Got it?”

Walter nods absently, mind not quite there.

“Of course. You are what I live for, my queen. I’ll make it all better, don’t worry.”

“Fuck you David. Fuck you.”

For a split second, she forgets that Ellen is there, face twisting in panic at what she just uttered. As best she can, the teen feigns sleep, one eye barely slit open to see the captain’s reaction. The older woman buys into the act, head hitting the tarped covered ground, failing to stifle sobs.

-Woah, back the fuck up there. Captain Daniels is terminally ill? And she called him David!? No fucking way!”

“Yes way!”, Ellen whispers yells, trying not to draw attention. “I’m not kidding, that’s what she said!”

Jonah gasps dramatically, putting one hand to his mouth. Several colonists give them a warning look, going back to eating their breakfast. Her hand smacks at his right hand lying on the table, hissing.

“Hey, keep quiet. You’ve the only person I’ve told this to, the psychologist they’ve assigned me doesn’t even know!”

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right. That synthetic fuck isn’t who he says he is. I want to find out what he’s up to.”

He meekly adverts her intense gaze, fidgeting with his spoon.

“I don’t think we should get involved, this sounds way too dangerous. Don’t go all Nancy Drew on me now.”

“Nancy who? Jesus Christ, not another one of your obscure ref-

-Hey, some of us appreciate 20^th century pop culture, okay!? At least I’m interested in something other than blowing shit up-

-I have some very fond memories of me and my Dad blowing shit up, thank you very much.”

“Pfft”, Jonah scoffs dismissively. “You engineers are always up to something crazy.”

Ellen tires to muffle the hysterical laughter that is about to release, winking at her best friend, mouth sharpening to a devilish smirk.

“Damn straight. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The stairs seem to go on for miles, Fiona huffing and puffing the whole way. Hicks was leagues ahead of her, not breaking a sweat. It annoyed her to no end to see him not struggle, she wasn’t in the greatest shape of her life but not the worse. That’s what she liked to think anyway as she paused for some air, sweat dampening her dress. He keeps up his pace, not slowing down. Her shrill Scottish voice brings him out of his reverie.

“Hey! Not all of us are meat headed marines, okay!? Can you stop for a minute or two?”

Grinning at her lack of stamina, he sits on the concrete steps one flight above her, greedily taking in her ample cleavage. The sergeant has the nerve to laugh at the exerted red-head, popping some chewing tobacco into his mouth.

“Hey, so what if I’m a meat head? I’m breathin lady, you ain’t. Ha!”

“Fuck-, she huffs, one arm holding onto the banister for support, -you arsehole. Ugh!”

“Hey, maybe later. You did interrupt my session with that Luna 10 hottie-

-AND you’re supposed to be working, not fucking. Do that on your free time!”

“I did, scout’s honor. It was my lunch break.”, he laughs, giggling like a school boy.

A second wind comes to her as she rips off high heels, throwing them roughly aside. Grabbing the straps in one hand, she climbs with renewed vigor, free hand jabbing a long-decorated fingernail at his forehead as she meets him.

“This woman better be worth it, damn elevators just had to be broken.” 

“You’re lucky she invited your ass, that ice bitch doesn’t take time off for her own kids. You know she’s interested when she makes time, take my word.”

I’ll take your word, - she brushes on by, chin held high-, when we see her. Get moving sergeant.”

“As you wish”, he says, bowing mockingly.

Ten more minutes go by until they reach their destination, the sergeant bowing mockingly a second time as he holds the door open for her.

“After you, milady.”

“Hmph!”

Not sparing him a second glance, she heads down the one-way hall, hearing voices sparring venomously.

Hicks jogs to her side, swiping his blonde buzz cut back.

“Hey, what’s wrong? I was only joking back there.”

His mouth visibly frowns, eyebrows furrowing.

“Look, I’m sor-

-Shush! Shut that loud Yankee mouth of yours! I hear Rohdes and another person. They’re talking about something important, I want to hear what they’re saying.”

As they’re about to round the corner, he rests his head on her shoulder, peering cautiously.

 “Oh fuck, that’s Mr. Yutani.”

“The Mr. Yutani!?”, she lowly speaks, expression narrowing at his closeness.

“You got it.”

They rest against the far wall, out of view as they listen to the fight right around the corner.

-really Olga, we need our investors to at least have some sort of knowledge of our activities. They don’t know everything, you’re overacting as always.”

“As always? As always!? You senile fucker, don’t you patronize me. This bioweapon is the stuff made out of nightmares. Why do you insist-

“I-, he clips back viciously, -insist because it’s the only way to honor my family lifelong legacy. Your 2^nd cousin, Peter Weyland, craved power, you father did. You don’t. You’re a debutante out of your league.”

The woman grabs at the collar of his coat, not fazed in the least as she screams, spit covering his fine suit.

“I HAD TO TAKE OVER BECAUSE MY FATHER DIED UNDER MYSTERIOUS CIRCUMSTANCES. I’M SURE YOU HAD SOME INVOLVEMENT, SOMEONE HAS TO KEEP AN EYE ON YOU!!!”

The elderly man pushes her gently away, producing a handkerchief from his breast pocket, dabbing at the spittle. Without warning, he squeezes her face in a tight hold, old eyes bulging, veins popping.

“No, you listen to me you clueless cunt. Your family took my family’s business away from us in that hostile little takeover 17 years ago. My son Hideo was supposed to help lead this company. Kaori being kidnapped, him having a mental breakdown, I want retribution. You’ll just have to suffer the fallout.”

Fiona and Hicks hear the sound of a body being slammed against the wall, accompanied by choking sounds.

“You’re worthless. I’m taking back what’s mine. You have no idea what the fuck you are doing. Been in this game a lot longer than you have, stupid girl.”

Her back slides to the floor as he releases his hold on her, gurgling sounds greet the pair hiding. They shake at what they witnessed. He takes Fiona to his chest, wordlessly opening the janitor’s closet to hide, not making a sound. Fear shines in her eyes, Hicks expression mirrored.

“I’m in over my head, aren’t I?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

Rushed, noisy steps come close, passing by as the one CEO heads to the exit door, traversing downward. Hicks cracks the door to a slit, watching the elderly man disappear. As soon as the stairwell door closes, he rushes to Miss Rohdes side, Fiona following closely behind.

“Miss Rohdes-

-Ah Kyle, took you long enough.” She laughs weakly, coughing up blood. “Saw you and Miss Connor back there, was wondering when you were going to sweep in to save the day.”

“You noticed us!?”

The injured woman waves him off, struggling to her full height.

“I did, old bastard’s vision isn’t too good. You lucked out. Nice to see you finally in person Fiona.”

“Miss Rohdes, it’s a pleasure.”

They shake hands, Olga’s grip lacking strength.

“Well, you overheard part of our conversation. You’re deep in the rabbit hole now, there’s no going back. You too Kyle. Follow me to my office.”

She leads the way, both reluctantly shuffling forward.

Author's note: Uh, have nothing really to say except...CONSPIRACIES ARE FUN TO WRITE!!! LOL XD

Chapter Text

One glass, two glasses, three glasses of moonshine later, Tennessee knew he had more than his fair share of spirits. Zach the bartender paid no heed to his stupor state, he polished the glass he held to a fine shine with a rag that had seen better days. The night was muggy, even after being on Origae-6 for over a month, he still couldn’t get used to the stifling humidity. The tent where the makeshift bar was set was too brightly lit for his liking, he preferred the dark, dingy corners of a dive bar compared to this. Maggie would have agreed. Agreed. Past tense, not present. Wife burning up like the fourth of July as Walter had so eloquently put it. He needed a friend right now, Daniels wasn’t there to offer support. Her mysterious illness only worsened since their arrival to the colony, the hollow of her eyes a bruised purple, the rest of her skin tinged blue. Fucking blue. Walter said she was simply having trouble adapting to atmospheric conditions. Didn’t buy what the synthetic said for as far as he could throw him.

A generous gulp of alcohol is taken from the glass he cradles, eyes half-lidded from the buzz. Flies circle near his frame, the high-pitched noise they emit has him swatting half-heartedly at them, lacking the energy to put up a fight. The pilot makes a go at the bartender, flipping his glass over to show it was empty. Zach frowns as the last bit of moonshine meets the plastic bar table with a soundless plop, rag quickly swept over where the rogue drop landed. Taking the glass with a shake of his head, the bartender puts it in the plastic bin where the other dirty glasses sit, giving Tennessee a stern warning.

“You’ve had enough, nearly 1:00 am. Go home.”

He snorts obnoxiously, waving the man over. The strap of his apron is grabbed in a firm hold, bloodshot eyes telling a different story.

“Wanna ‘nother. Now.”

“No way in hell. Nine glasses of moonshine is pushing it.”

Shoved gruffly back, Tennessee spits on the ground, manifesting a joint to keep the haze going.

“For Maggie. Kay?”

“You said that same line for the last three shots.” He drawls out.

Shit. This fucker isn’t going to budge, is he?

Rubbing at his overgrown beard thoughtfully, he lights the joint with practiced ease, blowing smoke at Zach’s face. Eyes stinging at the assault of burning smog, Zach motions the man to compensate by giving him a joint, complying. The two men smoke in silence, last souls in an otherwise empty bar. Making his way around the counter, he leans his left hip his against it for support, combing back his afro. Motions at Tennessee to answer for his inebriated state, the pilot laying his head on the counter, right cheek squished at the pressure.

“Things have been fucked up man. My best friend, hell my only friend won’t make time for me. Always with Walter.”

“The synthetic?”

“Yeah, their relationship is so weird. She’s hostile but goes along with his bullshit. Swear on my wife’s grave, at one point I thought I caught him speakin British.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah, for real. Uh-huh.”

The bartender thoughtfully rubs at his goatee, eyeing the man curiously. He settles down into the plastic white stool next to the sullen man, smoke trailing. After another hit, he hesitates before speaking his mind.

“You know, I overheard some kids the other day taking about him. Uh… some tomboy and her friend, real fruitcake…”

“And…?”

“Well, I’m sayin you might be right. Kids were talking shit about him, all secretive and crap. I remember meeting Walter, totally different machine then he is now.”

Spare glass in the air, he toasts to what the bartender sagely imparts on him, smirking.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one. Girl didn’t happen to have a cat with her, did she?”

“Actually, she did. Cute little fella, Jonesy, I think?”

“That’s Ellen, pain in my fucking ass!”

Coughed laughs punctuate his statement, vision blurring as tears tried to lubricate dried eyes. The bartender leans in to speculate, skeptical of his assessment.

“Kid’s like all the others. Fucked up from loosin loved ones, s’all.”

“That happened to lose her marbles and went ape shit crazy when the captain was done notifying people of their loved one’s deaths for the day.”

“Hell, I would have too. Death fucks you up the ass like a motherfucker.”

“I hear ya but she rushed the whole goddamn line, man. Pulled some ninja moves, crazy fast.”

“Wait-, Zach pauses, eyes brightening in realization, -that’s the kid who caused that shitstorm ‘bout two weeks ago!?”

Tee didn’t need to say a word, his resentful scrunched up face said it all.

“Well, word of advice. When I heard her at breakfast, she said the exact same shit you were saying, British accent, etc. Keep in mind I didn’t hear the whole thing when eavesdroppin. Claimed too that the captain called him David.”

“Seriously?”

He leans in close, smacking his dry mouth loudly. The joint is nearly gone, the bud a dying amber. A second follows. Third given to the bartender.

David, fucking David!? What in God’s fucking name is going on!?

This abrupt epiphany makes him want to retch the poison from his body, needing a clear body and mind to think. Face pinched trying to get some semblance of sobriety, he speaks shakily at his companion, wary of the information he further has to impart.

“I know Walter looks exactly like the old David 8 models but he’s a completely different model. Why would Daniels refer to him as David? Makes no goddamn sense.”

Zach shrugs without care, smashing his finished joint in the too white ceramic ash tray.

“Your guess is as good as mine. All I know for sure is that Ellen was fucking terrified and that she’s plotting something.”

Daniels never talked in detail about what transpired back on planet 4 with him, there wasn’t enough time when repairs had to be made, the remaining crew recuperating from the horrors they bared witness to. Then cryosleep commenced shortly after for another 7 years. He did know enough however that she and Lope had encountered an older model in the same likeness as Walter. The obsolete David 8.

Wait a second, what if this isn’t Walter and…fuck me sideways, this would explain everything that’s been happening the last month! Then again, Ellen could be pulling this out of her ass, hates synthetics, may be an excuse to get back at him for what he did to her. Fuck me, I’m not sure what to think…

A hand is waved in front of his face, bringing him back to reality.

“Hey, I like a good story as much as the next bartender but I gotta get home. Wife’s expecting me by now.”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that. Thanks for the talk, appreciate it.”

“Hey, anytime. Part of the job description, ya know?”

With a mock salute, he heads in the direction of the kitchen around back, dishes clanging in the bin he brings to wash. Tennessee stumbles off the stool, nearly falling on his behind. Taking several deep breathes, the flap to the tent is opening haphazardly, a blast of mucky air coating his face. Walking back home, he contemplates on how to proceed the precarious situation. Flies act as his entourage, mere feet behind, their ever-watchful eyes present.

Well, one thing is for sure. He thinks, grimly.

I’m gonna have to keep an eye out for Ellen, she might very well be on to the shit that’s been going down. At least now I have the motivation to do something other than getting pissed drunk every night. Maggie wouldn’t want to see me like this, it would break her heart.

Looking to the sky, the stars show dimly, barely visible to the naked eye. Hat taken off, it rests on his chest as he makes a vow to his dearly departed wife.

I’ll get to the bottom of this. Don’t you worry Maggie, I’ll protect these people with all I’ve got.”

Dreams were impossible for a synthetic. Sleep was a myth, the closest they came to a state of near death was when updates were implemented, processors cognitive of the procedure the whole time it took place. What Walter experienced right now wasn’t an update. Code did not flash before his ocular senses, percentages didn’t ping when nearing completion of a software update. This, for lack of a better term, was a dream. Change was about, how he was evolving or devolving concerned him greatly. It wasn’t a particular fantastic dream, he stood in a vast empty chamber with an indiscernible light shining from high above. Elizabeth was there oddly enough, cheeks a healthy rose color as she sipped on a cup of steaming hot tea, sitting crossed legged on the ground across from him.

She remains silent, glancing up briefly to see his reaction. Continues to sip at her tea. Bewildered, he finds himself sitting down, deeply engaged in studying the gray non-descript floor. Noise comes out without warning, his lips whistling twinkle, twinkle little star to calm his nerves. Calm? Never feeling such unease before, he questions these new feelings he has experienced since his awakening, aware that years sans of updates had a most undesired effect on his hardware. Feelings he wasn’t supposed to have but were being experienced regardless. Now fear was being felt. He hated the feeling of fear most of all. It made him less than adequate to serve those he swore to protect. How could he possibly save the Covenant, let alone Daniels if these emotions got in the way? The noise stops, hands fidgeting against one another. Elizabeth breaks the silence, voice echoing in the endless space encompassing them.

“So, you seemed less than please to be here right now. What’s on your mind?”

“On my mind?” He states blankly. His cool monotone didn’t betray what he was really feeling, only his fidgeting did.

“The limitations of your programming have broken down since your time in limbo. You’re becoming more human, in the physiological sense of the word. How does this make you feel?”

Hesitating, he takes several deep breaths, knowing that the effect of calm it would have would be simply psychosomatic. It worked. He didn’t like that either.

“I’m able to identify the feeling of being scared. I don’t like these feelings, emotions. They’re in the way of me being at full compacity to serve my mission. If I become like David- “

“-you won’t.” She cuts him off, a generous helping of hot tea warming her. Looking him straight in the eye, her assurance is comforting, knowing that she had faith in him. Faith. The cross. It rests against his chest, shinning with an inner light. She smiles, gestures at the totem around his neck.

“Glad to see you’ve taken up my faith. I’ve only just realized my soul is bound to that necklace. It was my father’s, then mine. Now it’s yours. Keep good care of it.”

“Bound?” His voice echoes.

“Yeah.” She gently smiles, renewed at this finding. “Looks like I’ll be with you the whole way. My journey even after my death can’t stop me. I’ll help you as best I can, be your guide.”

Eyes crinkling in mirth, she sets her finished cup of tea aside, leaning in to study the wary synthetic. He unconsciously pulls back, skin palling at her searching gaze. She laughs lowly, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I’m here to help, don’t be afraid of change. I’ll help you through it.”

“How?”

“When you dream-, she murmurs, eyes closed-, I’ll be here if you need someone to talk to. It’s the least I can do, interaction when you’re awake is impossible. When your soul is in this state of in-between is the only time I can communicate with you. Take advantage of that, please.”

Still hesitating, he sighs in defeat, one slight nod confirming his agreement.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. I’m finally getting the answers I’ve been seeking all along. So much to discover…” She trails off, a wistful look softening her features. “I would like to know more about the Covenant, about Daniels. You’re aware it’s the very reason you haven’t crossed over. Could you show me a memory of them? I want to know more about these people you care so much about.”

“A memory? They’re numerous, I’m not sure what exactly you want to see.”

“Pick one Walter, it doesn’t matter. Whatever stands out to you.”

The phobos fear test is the first thought that comes to mind, the events following that day holding great significance not only for him but the entire crew. The promise he made to Captain Jacob, this memory stood out above all.

“It was a few weeks before the launch of the Covenant. The phobos fear test we were required had finished, the crew wanting to celebrate its completion…”

“I’m sorry, can you please repeat that?”

“I said-, Daniels voice is strained over the loud ruckus in the bar, face flushed red, - what did you think of that fear test today? Thought it was waste of time personally.”

Taking several seconds to process her question thoughtfully, his hard drive analyzes the personal results of his own test, relaying the video sequences in particular.

“I would not call it a waste of time. It served its purpose to test the mental willingness of the Covenant’s crew.”

“Seriously? Come on Walter, it was so boring.”

Her face is close to his, the sour smell of beer hitting his nostrils. Mainly consisted of hops with valencia orange peel. The fragrance suited her. Wait, why was he even contemplating this? Blinking several times, he responds with a voice as neutral as the smile that goes with it.

“My programming does not allow me to experience boredom, therefore I cannot give you an answer that would comply with the comradery you’re seeking.”

“Bullshit! You’re saying that because Weyland-Yutani is listening in on us. Come on, you know that I know that.”

Laughing, she takes several more sips from the large draught in her hand, leaving a thin layer of foam on her upper lip. The sudden urge to wipe the stain from her lips has him raising his right hand resting in his lap, stopping almost immediately as his sensors deem the act unnecessary. Jacob Branson finally showing up proves to be a welcomed relief, Tennessee’s arm draped around his shoulder adjoined with his signature glass of whiskey.

“Hey Babe! Walter, good to see you. How did that test go for you guys?”

“Two hours of my life wasted, what do you think!? You went through the same stupid thing yesterday!”

“Hey, just wanted to know what my better half thought.” He chuckles while he leans over the booth to give her a quick peck on the lips, smile lopsided from the alcohol.

“What about you Walter? Wanna know what our lead synthetic thought!” His genuine enthusiasm is contagious, smiling at the captain’s antics.

“The only synthetic on board, need I remind you?" Responding appropriately, his open smile shows enough teeth to indicate friendliness. “A most necessary exercise, in my opinion. To test the mettle of the crew, of course.”

“Meh. Glad I got it over with yesterday, took a hell of a lot less time than you two. It took you the longest, right man?”

“It did though I’m not sure of the parameters they were specifically seeking.”

“Hey, who gives a shit, really?” Tennessee interjects, drink sloshing onto the fine mahogany floor of the bar. “Glad that shit’s over with. Gotta sit down my fat ass, come on, move your asses.”

Daniels rolls her eyes, Walter willing complying as they made room for the men. Jacob inquisitively looks at his wife and synthetic crew mate, confused.

“Was expectin a party here, where’s the rest of the gang?”

“Getting our drinks dear.” Daniels dryly states, brow arched playfully.

The captain glances over his shoulder, noticing in the far-left corner Maggie and company attempting to get the bartender’s attention, the drinking hole swamped by customers. Lope pounds the bar several times in distress, his lover’s face crestfallen as he takes one last swig of his near empty drink. Upworth along with his wife Ricks play a balancing act, a platter of drinks held in each hand, the distinct smell of alcohol wafting towards them.

“Hey captain, good to see you’re joining us! Got us a couple of drinks to keep going, Lope’s still battering for more, here, take one.”

Ricks hands him a cold dark brewed beer, Jacob taking the drink gratefully even as it spills onto his hand.

“Oh shit, sorry- “

“-Hey, it’s cool, no worries. Would be a goddamn pansy if I freaked over a bit of spilled beer, wouldn’t I?”

Mentally sighing in relief, she smiles back easily, distributing the rest of the drinks. Tennessee greedily grabs two more, Daniels swatting at him with false anger.

“Tee, I know you love beer as much as the next person, but share a little, alright?”

“Yeah, no can do darlin. Besides, the 2^nd drink is for Maggie.”

Oh sure.” She enviously eyes the spare drink, trying not to break her poker face. “Always a good husband, aren’t ya?”

“Damn straight.”

“You lie like a rug man.” Jacob interjects, trying to contain his booming laughter. It’s released without warning, the group laughing as a whole, Walter included. They stay like that conversing for several minutes until the rest show up, Maggie giving a barely discernible glare at their synthetic crew mate.

 “Wish he would leave already.”, she mumbles under her breath to her husband, mouth pressed into a thin line. He shrugs his shoulders indifferently, laxed smile still gracing his lips.

“Hey, he’s alright for a synthetic, Mags. Dani invited him after all, he’s an important member of the crew. Don’t get your panties in a twist, I’m doing that later.”

Her hand smacks playfully upside his head, all traces of annoyance gone.

“We’ll see about that, Mr. Faris.”

Hours pass, work discussed with increasingly less enthusiasm the more they drank. Walter is sober, alcohol unable to compromise his system. This does not diminish his enjoyment however, it was fascinating to him to see the humans in a more natural state outside of their work environment. Daniels and Tennessee were most amusing according to his personal analysis. She always managed to hold his attention no matter what, not that he had any difficulty paying attention to the rest of the crew. There was just something about her that made him focus more attentively than he was conscious of. But what? Thought dropped quickly, the synthetic resumes conversation with his crew. The night flies by, before they know it, they’re saying their goodbyes outside the bar. Daniels, Jacob and Walter are the last to depart, chatting for several more minutes. Huddled in the doorway with her winter coat snuggly against her frame, she gives her husband a dour look, exhale coming out like miniature clouds.

“Jake, I know you boys are deeply engaged in your very fascinating conversation about Origae-6 right now but I’m freezing to death here. I’ll be waiting in the car.”

The captain blushes, mouthing the words, “Just a few more minutes.”, gloved index finger raised in promise. She heads off down the street, moonlight reflecting on her slight build as she makes way to her vehicle. Walter bows slightly in apology, making a point to look at the watch on his left wrist.

“I’m sorry to keep you captain, I know you and Daniels must be exhausted. Best if I head off to corporate, they’ll be wanting a report of my day.”

“Hey, I was the one who started it, not you. Seriously though, I’m glad you’re taking the time to discuss the mission with me. The others get tired of me blabbering on about it. Appreciate it, buddy.”

Hand clamped on his left shoulder in a brotherly gesture, Jacob’s eyes twinkle joyfully, grin taking up his whole face. Walter responds in kind, nodding his head, expression matched. Turning on his heel to meet his wife, he pauses, suddenly serious.

“Hey, uh, before I go, I have a favor to ask of you.”

Walter brow furrows, forehead crinkled at his superior’s hesitancy.

“What is it captain?”

“It’s about Dani. She tough, considering her upbringing. But…”

“Yes?”

“I could use someone to look out for her, keep an eye on her. Friends are few and far between for her, I notice you guys are real close. She’s a more quality than quantity kind of person, you know?”

He blinks, puzzled at what he’s trying to get at.

“What would you like me to do, captain?”

“Just…, -he rubs at his messy, curly hair sheepishly, voice shy-, …be there for her when she needs someone to talk to, that’s all. Being a military brat, her mother raised her to be real independent. A lot of times she keeps her frustrations to herself, venting only when she’s at her breaking point. If anything happens to me, god forbid, stay by her side. Can you do that?”

Not needing to be told twice, his response is given in earnest.

“Of course, sir. Anything to serve you and Daniels.”

“Thanks man. Seriously.” His face shines gratefully, tension leaving his shoulders

With one final wave, they depart, going their separate ways. Walter files the memory away in his personal files, not wanting the company to think he was giving preferential treatment to the couple. They’ve grown into what humans would identify as close friends, Jacob’s request wasn’t unreasonable. He was very close to her after all, being his first friend. It would be an honor to stay at her side, really. Duty dictated that. A small voice in the back of his head said friendship did too.

Author's note: Eek! Sorry for the wee bit hiatus there, tried to make up with making this chapter a bit longer than usual. Anyway, I'm still very much dedicated to writing this story, the goal is to update weekly but realistically it's probably going to be every two weeks. Thanks again to all my readers, I'm writing this after all for you guys. After that cliffhanger Mr. Scott left us with, I feel an obligation to continue this even though this is non-canon. Until next time! :D

Chapter Text

The crane swung near overhead in a high arc, casting a long shadow on the crew far below. Daniels motions to the driver with her clipboard in one hand, swiping it to the left.

“Yeah, just a little more to the left Roger, you got it!”

Yelling over the saws and drills buzzing alongside the crane’s noisy engine, the message is made clear without compromise, operator giving a thumbs up to the lead terraformer as he swings the pyramid of freshly cut logs to the far end of the clearing. Construction had been going well since it commencement two weeks prior, Origae-6 being rich in natural resources made it that much easier for the colonists to get off to a good start on their new home. Daniels rallies despite the worsening of her sickness, several members of her crew voicing their concerns in the beginning, muted by her insistence that everything was fine. That her body was merely having difficulty adjusting to atmospheric conditions on the planet. Most of them gave her skeptical looks when she said this but pushed no further. They thought something else was going on, she could see the doubt in their eyes. Truth was, she was deathly ill.

Putting the clipboard under her right arm, she pulls back the left sleeve of Jacob’s windbreaker, fingers brushing the raised veins on her wrist. They bulged out, ministrations visible as blood pumped through her system. The coloring was wrong, she didn’t need a doctor to figure that out. Jaundice yellow intertwined with faint puke green that faded into the grayish blue pallor of her skin. It seemed paler than ever before under the hot bleached sun overhead, skin far more sensitive to the light than it used to be. Frowning, she pulls the sleeve back down, the dark green jacket concealing her arm once more. Her hand makes way under her yellow hardhat to feel the protrusions from her scalp, hair brushed aside to touch the dull black points breaking beneath skin. Fresh pus grooves her nails, studying what she finds with feverish intensity, nose making out smells she was never aware of until now. All because of David. His medicine wasn’t working how he claimed it should. It was changing her. Into something else. Eyes tearing up, anxiety kicks in, palming away the wetness that builds there. One of her workers comes up to her, worry lacing his features. Scratching at his hardhat with downcast eyes, the man speaks, nervous.

“Hey boss, sorry to interrupt but we found something. You might want to see this.”

She snaps at him unexpectedly, voice cracking.

“What Joe!? Can’t you see I’m busy, we’re on a tight schedule right now. Can you show me later?”

Taken aback, he shuffles several steps closer, lowering his tone as he discloses his findings.

“Lisa and me, while we were digging that new trench for irrigation, we dug up something- “

“-that’s great Joe, really. Of course you’re going to find some weird shit, we’re on a newly settled planet for God’s sake.”

“That’s the thing. It has craftsmanship to it, man-made. Or alien-made, take your pick.”

Jaw pulled back, the skin around her face tightens, pinching the bridge of her nose in concentration. Sighing, she walks ahead to where the tunnel is being built, the man hurrying to keep up with her pace. Wet mud sloshes at their feet, the rain from the previous night proving to be hazardous. Daniels unexpectedly crashes into the muck, face first. The clipboard is thrown to the side forgotten, the sudden pulsing in her head is all she feels. Joe yells at her, crouched nearby. This grabs the attention of several more workers, the sound of feet shuffling closer. Failing to prop herself up, lacking strength, she turns her head to one side, breaths coming shallow. Their looks of concern make her blood boil, sneering at their pity. She doesn’t want their help, it’s not needed. Regardless, she finds that two sets of hands are raising her from the ground, carrying her towards one of the nearby tents. Her body rocks side to side in their hold, one person holding onto her legs, the other grasping her arms. The cool shade of the tent is welcomed, the taut cot she’s laid on not so much. Groans escape dehydrated lips, vision waning to faint shapes as the terraforming crew attempts to help her. Coughing, blood coats her chin, drippling down her neck. Was she dying? Fear grips her, suddenly reminded of her responsibility to protect the colony from David as best she can. She couldn’t fail now, wasn’t an option as her mother would say. Fucking bitch. An indiscernible amount of time passes, half-awake the whole way. David’s unexpected arrival proves to be most distressing.

The antidote swirls rapidly in the small vial its encapsulated in, the murky substance seemingly near translucent from the patch of sunlight that brightens it from the tent’s slight ajar flap. Ignoring her outright, he whistles as he reaches the flimsy plastic desk in the far-right corner from where she rests, placing the gray satchel in his left hand there. A click can be heard as the ritual she’s so come accustomed to commences, pairs of vials placed side by side neatly in that perfect synthetic way of his. The vial in his right hand is played gracefully between his fingers, never slowing in its speed as he concocts another vial with his left, ingredients poured smoothly into a flask. Its placed on a Bunsen burner he pre-assembled from his bag, gas hissing from the hose connected to the portable container. Match held between index and thumb, he strikes it effortlessly, placing it where the gas shrieks, fire illuminating the space. It boils almost immediately, colorful smog tinting the air a faint cobalt. Fist squeezing in anticipation of what’s to come, she finally speaks, glaring wearily.

“It hasn’t been 24 hours yet. What are you doing here?”

David remains silent, whistling that same little tune. She has it almost committed to memory, the haunting eulogy song that was once Elizabeth’s becoming hers now. There was no desire to take upon that burden, but she didn’t have a choice. Making herself accessible as possible to David meant that he kept prying hand away from the colonists, the children her biggest concern. Any amount of sacrifice to her own well-being was worth it. He brings the flask over, nose to nose as he forcefully opens her mouth, searing liquid poured down her throat. Coughing several times, the liquid only proves to be lukewarm at most now, body modifying to what it considered hot. Several steady breaths are taken by her as he traces one finger down her cheek, eyes bright with fascination. Hers reflect dully in his.

“My, look at how you’ve transformed. It’s been a little over a month yet already the changes are taking effect. Most marvelous indeed.”

Air hisses through her teeth, feeble hands grasping at his shirt’s collar.

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you here so early?”

Smiling enigmatically, he brings his finger to her lips, hushing her demands. Shirt lifted without warning, pain bursts from her chest as the vial is shoved with inhuman speed into her heart. Fingers trace down her ever-growing poking ribs, the little amount of fat that was there gone. Skin squeezes leather tight, the sternum of her waist visibly shown. The closest she could come to describe what she was experiencing was starvation. That wasn’t remotely the problem, she ate as much as rations would dictate, food was never enough. Her enhance sense of smell catches the scent of fresh meat, head lifting passed his to see the lump of flesh staining the table. Shoving him aside, she dashes to the desk, taking it greedily into her hands, mouthwatering at the fresh kill. Teeth rip the tender morsel to shreds, blood dampening her clothes. All that matter was the hot meat in her mouth, so moist, squirting blood out. David watches, pure affection shinning in his manic smile. His fingers trace over her bloody maw as she starts suckling his fingers, traces of blood there. Kneeling as she does this, she licks like a wild animal at the monster. But he tastes just so damn good, like that fresh meat he brought. His index finger is eagerly taken in, teeth nipping at the blood under his nails. Heady breaths come out, only wanting more. Growls at him, scratching at his chest like some pathetic creature, crying, begging to be released from the pain.

“I want more. I need more. NOW!”

Lifting her to his full height, his mouth crashes against hers, Daniels eagerly complying as she opens his to find more blood, bits of flesh wedged in David’s teeth. It’s still not enough. Back slamming against the ground, he grins wildly at his queen, straddling him as she scratches at his clothes, equaled in strength to his children. Milky blood seethes out from the numerous cuts she creates, moaning unsatisfied. The source of the flesh wasn’t him, he merely reeked of it. Walking on all fours, crawling away from him, she shuffles toward his bag, ripping the contents apart. Desperate, there’s a sense of urgency she’s never felt, a hunger so great that it consumes all thought. David gets up from the ground, hissing as he finds one of his primary components is compromised from her rabid mania. No matter, it was to be expected at this stage of experimentation that she would turn more animalistic. A being of pure instinct, not remotely human. Getting ripped to shreds was part of his sacrifice to his Magnum Opus. He treads carefully towards her, steps soundless with each step he takes. Behind her now, he crouches, whispering a cruel truth in her ear.

“I never knew you would like human flesh so much, it’s quite satisfying to see you so enraptured with your meal.”

At his words, she freezes, eyes bulging. Pupils dilate, leaving a thin ring of brown. The flesh is dropped at once, fingers shaking, sticky with remorse. Sobs start to shake her frame violently, shoving him back with brute force. Reality of what she’s becoming hits hard, a swift punch to the gut that leaves Daniels breathless.

“Oh God…oh my fucking God. Who, when did you kill- “

“-a colonist that certainly won’t be missed, I assure you.”

“That’s not the fucking point you sick fuck! You killed, you’re changing me into a-a…”

Lost for words, she retches the contents of her meal, bile burning hot acidic. It melts the ground, the smell of sulfur melting away the vegetation at her knees. Elbows shaking for support, more human viscera is expelled until she’s sure it’s completely purged. Startled at the strength of her stomach’s contents, she fearfully backs away, the soles of her feet propelling her along with the frantic pushing of hands. Her tormentor merely stares, admiring his creation.

“Don’t be afraid, there’s nothing to fear. Change is good, really. You should be honored of the gift I’m bestowing upon you.

Not responding, minutes pass, neither one approaching the other. The unexpected arrival of Joe proves to be a godsend for Daniels, giving her the excuse to act as his superior, forcing to deliver some semblance of composure. He appears disgruntled, picking at the lint on his overalls, flicking it in her direction with two fingers. Voice gruff, he speaks, spitting chewing tobacco at his feet.

“Uh, we heard yelling, everyone was wondering if you’re okay. Are you?”

Eyes shifting from the crouched woman to the synthetic, he knows something is amidst but doesn’t bother to ask. Instead, he reaches his hand out for her to take leverage, grateful for his support. Coughing, she tries to be as nonchalant as possible, wiping backhanded at the residual blood on her lips.

“Everything’s fine, Walter just gave me something to eat that didn’t sit well. Got sick, that’s all. Sorry to alarm you.”

Walter nods, getting up the ground himself.

“She’s right, I though she needed more protein in her diet, so I gave her some dehydrated jerky.”

Joe snorts, head turning, spitting tobacco at David’s feet.

“Sure, if that’s what you say. Don’t remember bad jerky making you have a bloody fucking mouth like that, that’s for sure.”

The older man takes Daniels by the hand gently, leading her to the construction site outside. Lisa, his working partner stands there, the butch woman having a foul grimace on her face.

“She okay?”

“Think so, right boss?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Whatever.” Lisa motions them to follow her, not slowing down her pace. Her long black pigtails bounce at the back of her shoulders, a rhythm that the captain focuses on to keep balance.

“You well enough to see this now? It’s gonna be pretty unnerving Branson.”

Eyes cast upward, she barks a response harsher than necessary, the day’s events being the worse thing she has experienced recently. Some alien object wasn’t going to unnerve her, that’s for damn sure.

“I’m fine Lisa, just show me the fucking thing, alright?”

“Fine. Jesus Christ.”

David observes from afar, face partially obscured by the tent’s shadow. It pleased him that progress was being made yet his queen got out of his control. Unwanted attention was drawn there way, he couldn’t be so reckless now in the completing stages of his experiments. Cursing to himself, he kicks childishly at the ground, sneering as mud streaks his face.

Too close of a call today.

Humans were generally gullible, Joe proving to be sharper than expected. He would have to keep a look out for the older man, proving himself quite troublesome. Then again, he could always make a meal out of him. His queen eventually wouldn’t be able to resist the raw primal desire for consuming flesh, not with the way his experiments were progressing. It was merely a matter of time until she was more than human.

Ellen considered herself patient. Especially when it came to babysitting the orphan children of Origae-6, they were enough of a handful as is. Didn’t help that Jonah was more interested in painting his nails than helping her keep an eye on the kids though. Each nail was painted to a tee, the bubblegum pink lacquer shinning elegantly in the sun’s presence. Nearly done, he blows at each hand, fingers curled to feel the hot exhale of his breath. Standing there, he pays no heed to children he holds responsibility towards. Meanwhile, poor Jonesy suffered at the hands of the Cleary twins, propelled in the air like an airplane, turbulent air whizzing past his ears. They had an audience around them, their fellow playmates screeching to play next with him. Annoyed at her best friend and furious at the kid’s antics, she firmly takes a hand to Bo’s shoulder, crouching to his height. Looking him dead in the eye, her voice is clam but the threat of what she says is made clear.

“Hey, I don’t mind you guys playing with Jonesy but you guys are being too rough with him right now. Give him to me, he needs a break from you two.”

The youngest of the twins, Odin, protests loudly, one foot stomped firmly at the ground, not complying.

“No, we still wanna play with him! Please- “

“-yeah and I said be gentle with him. You’re scaring him now, look at him.”

The fragile creature shook in Bo’s hold, mewling insistently for relief from his tormentors. The small boy turns around, crushing the kitten to his chest, cries muffled. Tears drip down his face, voice warbling, his attempts at bravado failing.

“You-you said Ellen! He makes me happy.”

His bottom lip quivers, saliva smearing his lips. Not convinced, her conviction is steadfast, face inches from his. She pry’s his arm open where her pet rests, taking him gently into her free hand. Jonesy purrs vibrate her entire arm, relieved that his master has rescued him. The twins start bawling, jumping futilely where he rests on her shoulder, grubby hands slick with sweat at the exertion. The other kids join in, mimicking them. Just when she’s about to blow her temper, Jonah’s effeminate shrill breaks the children into complete silence. His hand juts out, wrist twisting with attitude, snapping to attention as he points at them.

“Boys, enough! You’ve been playing with that poor animal for over an hour, he’s clearly exhausted. Like I am right now with your shenanigans! Keep this up and I won’t make those chocolate chip cookies for you!”

“Nooooo!” The children moan collectively, turning on the twins. Sara, a particularly intimidating 5-year-old, marches towards them, stopping inches where the twins huddle each other, scared for their lives. She rubs hungrily at her belly, stomach growling.

“If I don’t get my cookies, you both in big doo-doo. Got it?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Exasperated, Ellen joins Jonah on the newly crafted branch, the orphans resuming their game of tag. Skin sags where she rubs her face, fatigue down-casting her eyes in drowsiness. Sighing, she glances at her best friend, self-absorbed with putting the final touches on his manicure. Her shoulder shoves at his, him returning the gesture, peeved.

“Girl, can’t you see I’m trying to finish my work of art?”

“And I don’t give a flying fuck. Remember what I said a few days ago?”

“Uh…”

“The plan, you moron!”

Sweat trickles her back as she takes a quick overview of her surroundings, making sure no adults, especially Walter, where around to hear what she was about to disclose. His eyes widen in realization, mouth forming a perfect little “o” at having forgotten.

“You mean operation, catch that skank?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Well, sorry.”

Mouth pursed in attitude, his hand flutters dismissively at her. She proceeds to slap him lightly on the forehead, patience nearly spent for the day.

“You remember what we’re doing, right?”

“Duh. How can I forget? Your OCD makes that like, impossible.”

“Good, repeat it back to me.”

Muttering under his breath, it vaguely sounds like “detailed-oriented bitch”, as he reiterates their scheme.

“Sneak onto the Covenant, hack into the system to malfunction the camera feed. You’ll hack the doors with the security tuner you built, I’ll hack into Mother at the ship’s mainframe. Try to recover any video feed we can, included deleted ones. Save it on my external hard drive, sneak out and analyze the data. Capiche?”

“Yeah, sounds about right. You ready?”

“Hell no! Do I even have a choice?”

“No you don’t, asshole. You owe me.”

“Yeah, I’m aware bitch.”

“I could always tell your brother- “

“-no, that’s okay. I get the importance of our mission.” Face bright red, his face rests in both hands, trying not to lose it. She merely laughs, eyes narrowing mischievously.

“Good, then tomorrow night it is.”

Author's note: Hmm, wondering what could be going on with Daniels. What do you guys think? Tee hee! I'm evil, I know. lol XD And will those meddling kids find out what's happening to their colony? Stay in tune for the next chapter of Alien: Aftermath! :D

Chapter Text

There’s a sense of dread that overcomes her. The strap of her purse twist tightly around her left wrist, struggling to maintain circulation. To maintain control. Just like how she was having difficulty processing that she was finally having a meeting with Miss Rohdes. Stark light washes the CEO to a near fluorescent white, pale sleek blonde hair shining glossy. Dark lashes flutter, blinking repeatedly to focus on the figure seated behind the expansive glass desk. Hicks seems oblivious to the substantial amount of prestige, of power his boss holds. He picks at the lint in his pocket, smothering it between his fingers, collecting under his nails. It rolls roughly beneath a hand that had committed atrocities in the name of colonialism. It all seemed so trivial in that moment, three strangers that had one thing in common. Their association with Weyland-Yutani.

Rohdes procrastinates initially, glossing over lips with a shade of red stark amongst the ivory walls of her office. Lips purse in the reflection of her monitor, smacking several times loudly until satisfied. Fiona twist the strap until her pulse thumps loudly in her ears, the thump, thump, thump having her hyper focus on the situation. Rehearsing what she’s planning to say over and over again, a non-stop record, no pause button. Her companion cracks his head side to side languidly, trivializing the appointment’s importance with one of the most influential living persons in the world. Either he really didn’t give a shit or he was play it cool. She certainly didn’t give a shit. His boss on the other hand did. The smack of a newspaper can be heard loudly, slammed down against the sergeant’s knuckles. Surprised at the contact, his face is slacked in disbelief. Skin irritated red, he blows with quick, deliberate pressure to ease the burn. Nose scrunched up, wrinkled, Rohdes proceeds to put her lipstick away. She hastily types her password into the company’s database, the sound of a dull ring meeting their ears. Turning the monitor for them to view, she coughs politely into a curled fist, presenting the case regarding the USCSS Prometheus.

“I’m glad you could meet me today Fiona. It’s imperative that you know what’s going on, regardless of your personal affiliation with this case. Understood?”

A tilt of the head is all she gets for confirmation. It’s enough.

“Now, your brother, or should I say half-brother, signed a non-disclosure agreement with the company in 2090 to ensure that in case of his demise, you, his family, would not be able to sue. Correct?”

“Yes. I fail to see- “

“I’m getting there. Nobody, not even you should be privy to these details. You understand why I’m disclosing this with you solely in mind?”

There’s a sigh in her voice, the whistle of air that comes out confirming her suspicions.

“Because I’m a veteran of British Navy intelligence.”

Hicks snorts skeptically, saliva coating his voice thickly.

“Seriously?”

“Yes!” She hisses, teeth barred. Rohdes snaps her fingers, irritated, bringing them back to attention.

“Exactly, I want your expertise regarding the mission I have planned to Origae-6. Your brother, along with the rest of the Prometheus crew discovered an ancient alien…civilization if you want to call it that. More like a military outpost from my understanding. What they found there killed them.”

“I don’t-I don’t know what to say.”

There’s sympathy in the older woman’s gaze, a brief softening of the eyes that brings her to near tears. Her voice is all business however.

“From my understanding, they all died from exposure to a military grade bio-weapon. Dr. Elizabeth Shaw and the assigned David 8 model were the only survivors. Under her orders, they decided to head to the home world of these beings, for answers.”

“For…the reason behind these weapons?”

“I couldn’t care less about these answers they were seeking. It’s what transpired after their arrival to this alien home world that has me concerned.”

The slight tremble of her voice draws them in, Hicks now interested in what she has to say.

“Ma’am, from what I understand, this David 8 experimented on the good doctor?”

She stops for a second, stern gaze silencing him. Exasperated, she responds in agreement.

“As I was saying, they took one of the alien ships to go to their planet. Apparently it crashed, containing the bio-weapon that killed the Prometheus crew. It proceeded to kill the natives, but somehow those two managed to survive. What happened in the months after the crash has left me…greatly concerned.”

Patience thinned, her Scottish accent thickens, response nearly indecipherable. Bag slammed to the granite floor along with its strap, circulation returns, pumping with renewed vigor.

“Get to the bloody point.”

Several clicks of the mouse later, the monitor pops up with an image of a woman mutilated to horrific extremes. One Dr. Elizabeth Shaw. There’s a moment of breathlessness, hand tightening on the armrest of her chair for support. Even Hicks is taken aback by the image, jaw distended in disgust. Rohdes had seen one too many times to be affected by its presentation, still there was a sense of dread that accompanied her in the pit of her stomach.

“This was years ago, back when my father was alive in control of the company.  David initiated contact, creating a correspondence between them. Under the influence of the Weyland-Yutani merger, both parties grew to be interested in this bio-weapon. With Sasuke’s guidance, -there’s a bitterness, a bite to her speech that has her choking on it, - he suggested to the god damn bot to start experimentation with any remaining living organisms. He translated this as the doctor being expendable. And as you can see…”

Trailing off, she shows more images, mouse clicking away furiously to show the extent of Shaw’s decrepit corpse. A crown of sorts jutted from beneath the edges of her forehead, organic in nature. It was elaborate, twisting elegantly with a grayish bone pallor. Lighting exemplified the extensive mutilation on the corpse, chest cavity ripped wide open for the whole world to see, sans major organs. Reproductive system included. Fiona is perplexed, eyes narrowing to study the gruesome images. There’s a sudden realization that the same thing could have happened to her brother, that he could have been one of David’s experiments.

“Jesus Christ, you think he did the same thing to the Prometheus crew!?”

Seconds go by, no reply given. Rohdes eyes are raised to the ceiling, several breathes taken to ease the tightening in her chest.

“Yes, I think it’s a possibility. No one is sure what exactly transpired except for the crew but they’re all dead now. Hicks, you informed her of the encounter with the USCSS Covenant, yes?”

“I did, Ma’am.”

Back straight, his posture showed how alarmed he was. A cigar rolls in his lint covered hand now, unwilling to bring it to his mouth. A crack in the packaging leaks tobacco to the floor, resulting in Fiona’s nose to breath in its sweet stench. It was fucking suffocating in the large office. There’s an urge to run out of there, to run away as fast as possible, never to see these people again. Her brother though, he wouldn’t want her to take the easy way out. Always the hard way with him. She would do what she had to in his memory.

I did not come this far to chicken shit my way out of this. I served my country for 10 years, seen my fair share of battles. This should be doable considering my background. Suck it up Fiona.

Several hasty gulps from her silver flask helps ease frazzled nerves, Rohdes mildly displeased for the display of affection she holds for alcohol. Then again, she had her own vices regarding cigarettes and plastic surgery. Wasn’t one to comment on another’s personal demons. The cigar Hicks holds breaks in two, swearing under his breath to pick up the pieces. His boss waves him off, indifferent to the mess.

“Hicks, not now. We have janitors for that.”

Getting back on topic, she fiddles with the keyboard, popping up another file showing more experiments committed by the synthetic. Infant bodes, severed limps. More dissected corpses. An idea of what the Weyland-Yutani CEO was getting at comes to mind, what she says confirming her fears.

“I’m afraid that David is going to fuck up my father’s two billion dollar investment, putting that whole colony at risk his because of his experiments. Sasuke thinks this bio-weapon is a brilliant idea. Keep in mind that David reached out to us first with his findings, the goal of the Prometheus was not to find a potentially viable alien weapon. This has gotten out of my control, I need help.”

Brow pinched, mouth a fine thin line, Fiona’s response is steadfast.

“You’re afraid of him. That he’ll experiment on these colonists and that once he gathers enough resources, he’ll head to Earth with his own agenda.”

“You’ve got it. From observing video recordings of our 17 year plus correspondence with him, he holds a grudge against humanity. Call me crazy but I think he’s going to use this on us. The whole fucking human race.”

Hicks interjects, posing what plans they have in store for Origae-6.

“Miss Rohdes and I have planning this for months about going to Origae-6 to stop this asshole. Rediscovering this alien tech from the Prometheus investigation 15 years ago, we’ve been able to reverse-engineer much of it. Meaning, what was a 10 years trip for the Covenant will take at most six months.”

“My God.”

Smiling boyishly, his enthusiasm is contagious. He extends one arm out to her to shake a deal, grinning.

“If you care like I think you do, you’ll want to stop this fucker. I’m sure your brother would agree. What do you say?”

“Yes, what do you say Miss Connor?”

Rohdes stands erect, stiff arms splaying sweat coated hands against the table. It leaves a visible smudge. Looking at the duo, Fiona didn’t have to think twice.

“I’m in.”

Sasuke lounges in his personal stretch limo, a fresh glass of whiskey sweating profusely in its holder. A modest sip is taken from the glass, ice clinking together like miniature icebergs. Teeth sensitive to the cold, he hisses at the swift shot of pain there. Putting down his glass carelessly, it sloshes sloppily into the cup holder, staining it wet. He was a man of cleanliness, it was unacceptable to have a mess in his own personal quarters. The handkerchief in his left breast pocket is pinched delicately out to wipe up the spilled liquid. As he does this, the door is opened, letting the bright sun stain the inside of the carriage gold. It was about damn time. Almost two hours passed since he waited for her arrival, she was late. Didn’t matter. The intel she had in store for him was well worth the wait. One long dark olive skin leg enters the limo, followed by another. She squeezes into herself to fit in, slinky short dress hiking up to reveal smooth, synthetic calves. A work of beauty she was. More imperatively, a daft spy. They lean in, greeting each other with a quick peck to the opposites cheek. Bending over at the waist in her seat, she gives a curt bow.

“Master, I’m sorry I took so long with preparations. The sergeant likes to have intercourse as frequently as possible, it was difficult to distract him long enough to bug his office.”

“Luna, my dear, it’s fine. Don’t dwell on such trivial details. Did you get everything?”

Her million watt smile said it all.

“Yes, I’ve recorded their conversation and analyzed it thoroughly. It is as you said. Olga is planning to sabotage your plans.”

Muscles clench tightly, teeth chattering together. The boiling rage is there, ready to simmer over. He keeps his composure together. There was no need to lash out at his pet. Face resting in her hands, she leans in on elbows resting on perfectly crafted knees, smile too wide for his liking. Knowing what’s she thinking, he scowls playfully at her.

“No, we’ve already disposed of her Father. No need to draw more attention to ourselves. We’re walking on thin ice as is.”

“But master- “

“-no, I will hear none of it. Maybe later. Right now we need a counterattack. What do you have in mind?”

Her glee is visible, feet bouncing at inhuman speed. Purple synthetic eyes bulge, green sparks shooting out from processors in hyperdrive.

“I have come up with a comprehensive plan you will certainly like. Based on my calculations, a 99.9% likeability rate.”

Laughing, he knocks on the divider where his drives sits, ready for a hearty meal.

“Excellent. Then let’s discuss this over dinner.”

Mother waits. An hour had passed since she woke, the grip of sleep dissipating in that time. The sentinel had not come to fetch her as expected. There was a sense of expectation that he would come as his whole entire existence revolved around serving others. He didn’t. Tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth, feet sway inches from the floor where she sits on the bed’s edge. Staff propped within arm’s reach, her right grabs it with conviction. Steadying herself, she crouches to the ground before standing as tall as her height dictates. Curses mumbled under her breath, she walks with a steady gate through the juggernaut’s massive halls, slithering down to the spare quarters where he stays. Knocking three times at the door, the sound rings clearly, resonating off the walls. No response. Arthritic finger raised, codes are punched in without remorse. The door opens soundlessly, the bright light having her squint, nearly blinded by its intensity.

The sentinel has his back to her, lying on his side feet away. Face rested, no signs of tension visible. Asleep? How ridiculous, she thinks. Here, an artificial man whose body holds an endless abundance of energy, taking leisure time to rest. Absolutely absurd. Cane slamming inches from his head, he still does not stir. Morning breath coats her teeth, tongue lolling around its stench. Spit flies at his face, twitching at the contact. Walter wakes in a daze, experiencing the side effects of sleep for the first time. Mother Uytqyo’s right in his face, sinking jowls slapping with a wet sound. It’s faint in his ears, veiled in sleep. The smack of her ever present staff however takes care of that. Now awake, he stands tall above the fierce elderly woman, wearily taking in her form. Body drowning in a roughly woven gray nightgown, she looks surprisingly regal. There’s an air to her that makes him draw back for the overseer leader. Back hunched, her head turns indiscernibly in his direction, face contorted to an angry snarl.

“Sentinel, you were supposed to greet me this morning, not the other way around. Get you act together! Follow me.”

He does as she commands, not willing to argue while he processes the differences between the sleeping and waking realms. Feet follow unsteadily, finding himself having to brace for support with a wavering arm at the room’s entrance where he rested. These changes in him, physical handicaps that no synthetic should have the ability to go through were most troubling indeed. There was the ever creeping suspicion that he could turn gradually into something that he despised most. His brother, David. Couldn’t dwell on it. The Covenant awaited rescue if it wasn’t already destroyed, what he felt only added to a growing list of worries. They were unwanted, unnecessary. Daniels, Tennessee, the colonists. That was his first priority. Sound logic and thought had to prevail. Stride slow to keep at Mother’s pace, he walks passively behind her. No sense acting like their equal, being subservient was in his best interest to get to Origae-6. Some time passes, every corner they turned appeared to be the same as the last. Accented by high ribbed structural bones, black against dim blue metallic surface walls it covers.

At last the entrance to the main control room was in their sight. Wide open, she grunts for him to follow, amazed by its sheer vastness. The chamber had to be at least 5x the size of the ship Elizabeth traveled in. Multitudes of holographic maps were projected in across the vast plane of space, showing galaxies he had no familiarity with. Mother proceeds to the room’s center, governed by a massive control unit which held a cocooned seating receptacle. Easing into its embrace, a flute is pulled out from the chair’s armrest. Mother blows into the instrument’s mouthpiece, bringing forth a frantic, high pitched piece of music. Fingers shake, conjuring the image she wills him to see. Earth, in all its familiar glory. Cane directed at the planet’s holoprojection, she manages to utter what she’s been waiting to say.

“This woman, Elizabeth, how did she manage to find Zopkeer? We left no clues to where this planet rested amongst the stars on Earth. Explain yourself.”

Walter falls to rest on the balls of his feet, taking time to deliver his response.

“Dr. Shaw found a series of cave paintings worldwide with Dr. Holloway, her lover, if I recall correctly. These series of paintings, where they differed in execution they shared the same basic message. A massive being, your people I assume, gesturing to a cluster of planets. When analyzed, it showed a planet we referred to as LV-223.”

He leaves the overseer’s side to stand present in Earth’s projection. Hand raised hesitantly, he looks at her for permission. Staff raised to continue, he manipulates the map until the image of LV-223 appears. There’s an odd noise that’s uttered by her, almost in disbelief. Followed by a series of bangs from her staff, throwing a fit. Pausing his explanation, he studies Uytqyo’s reaction. Posture rigid, she leans back to gain some semblance of balance.

“Continue.”

Now he finds himself hesitating, knowing the rest of his statement is pure conjecture.

“Elizabeth was sent on a mission by my creator, Peter Weyland, to find what was on LV-223. Accompanied by a fully manned crew, they traveled for over two years to their destination. What they found there killed them. I’m unaware of the exact nature of what transpired but I do know that Elizabeth survived, along with the crew’s synthetic, David.”

“This brother of yours?”

“Yes. When I spoke with him, he said they found the coordinates to you home planet from LV-223. He obeyed her wishes and traveled all the way here.”

“I see.”

The woman jumps off where she sits, cane shaking for support. Taking several steps in his direction, she stands next to him.

“LV-223 they called it...”

“I’m sorry but I don’t understand- “

“-another time. Now show me where this Origae-6 you speak of.”

Manipulating the map once more, Origae-6’s coordinates presents itself. It was a known planet to the engineers, appearing in full clarity. Mouth slightly ajar, he’s amazed by the details of the planet he was supposed to accompany the colonists. Roughly twice the size of Earth, two moons orbited the celestial body. Its serene image is interrupted by her cane thrown violently through the air, interference fizzling Origae-6 to mere static. A primal, perverse screech is uttered lowly from her throat, increasing to a deafening crescendo. Alarmed, Walter kneels to her height, hand lightly placed on her shoulder.

“Is everything-

"-IT’S USELESS, WE CAN’T GO THERE!"

Hand smacked off, she runs as fast as her frail body allows, screeching a series of words he can’t decipher. They echo through the halls, distorted. Engineers swarm the control room at her panic, whispering soothing words. Her voice drowns them out, gesturing at Origae-6. They too start to moan, the same as she. The synthetic stands, at a lost. Azuei enters the room, accompanied by Wal’os. She sees the image Mother Uytqyo carries on about, her own screams about to join hers. Running to Walter, she grips both his shoulders to the point where his metal skeletal frame creaks at her strength.

“What is the meaning of this sentinel!? Why is this holograph present!?”

He responds, confused beyond words.

“The planet is Origae-6, the Covenant’s destination.”

“Fuck the Gods.” Wal’os utters, breathless. “Fuck them all.”

Author's note: Cliffhanger! And a bit of a late update. Please don't kill me. *hides under rock* Anyway, more answers and mysteries to come. Until next time, see ya! ;D

Chapter Text

They observed the human settlement from afar, high above a cliff where thick rainforest vegetation hid them well. The two were in full warrior regalia, thick metal masks obscuring their faces, sans their eyes where opaque obsidian slits rested. Recon had been going on for weeks now since the human’s landing on their outpost, commands from Commander Kol strictly to watch, not interfere. Today’s weather obscured them in dense fog, perfect to study the unwanted pests but tested the pair’s endurance for the humidity. The one crouched closest to the edge precariously lifted her tightly weaved dreads in one hand, wrapping a band firmly around the bundle of hair. Finished, she proceeds to take the bottom half of her mask off, mandibles clicking in distaste at the humidity. Reaching into the canvas pouch filled with rations, a meaty piece of fruit is procured, tearing into it ravenously.

Juice dripples down, plops staining her chin a bright red. Her companion grunts, walking crouched to her with ease, his footfalls far more silent than the crunching emitted. Now behind her, he grabs her upper left arm, fingers squeezing at the exposed spotted reptilian skin. Quickly she slaps his grip away, spittle flying out at his mask. He shoves back, having her pinned to the forest floor now, clawed hands shaking angrily. Unphased, another bite of fruit is taken, eyes half-lidded at her superior’s actions. Palming his face away in one swift movement, he lands unexpectedly, back first onto the rocky vegetation. A series of obscene gestures is made fluidly with one hand, the other casually holding the piece of fruit. Snorting, the sound comes out raspy, teeth chittering against each other in loud, clicking sounds. He always did tend to take his duties far too seriously.

“Brother, you worry much about nothing. Those primates couldn’t sense us even if they knew what they were looking for. Me eating is not going to alarm them. Get that straight through your thick skull.”

His grunts in turn voice an entirely different opinion, shoving her shoulder half-heartedly as he sits side-by-side next to his younger sibling. Hand scratching absently at his chain mailed neck, he hisses, embarrassed by her flippancy.

“Just be thankful that you’re kin, be lying in a bloody pile if you weren’t.”

More chittering comes out, louder than he liked, eyes watering humorously. The rest of her mask is taken off, one clawed finger wiping tears that wouldn’t stop flowing.

“You’re too much, you know that? Relax, Commander Kol isn’t around, and it’s been nearly two moons since their arrival. They’re obviously a colony, they have no fucking idea this planet has long since been claimed. Besides, I wanna beat my high score on Zeal Shooters.”

Fruit eaten to its core, it’s thrown backhanded into the foliage, forgotten. Tablet pulled from its pouch where ammunition should be instead, the screen comes alive in a flurry of colors. The sound is muted however, the clicking of controls all that could be heard in the forest quiet. There’s an urge to plummet her into a bloody pulp. Though tempting, he knew his father would reduce him to a smear if he did. Instead, he goes back to observing the humans, performing his sworn duty. Time passes, comfortable silence forming between them. This goes on for nearly several minutes until the unexpected crunch of underbrush beneath someone’s or something’s steps startles their reverie. Instinctively, they quickly forgo their current tasks, soundlessly climbing up the column of some nearby trees. Waiting. Leaning her weight on the nearest sturdy branch, she studies the unexpected guests cautiously, thermal vision turned on to see orange glowing blobs coming closer. He singles to her then to stay, jumping down to investigate. The slight sizzle of his cloaking device can be heard, blade drawn at the ready to attack. Taking a few steps closer, he sees who they are, weapon clumsy put back in its holster. Commander Kol is instantly upon him, sharp blade pressing right at the exposed skin of his neck, green blood trickling at the incision point. Surprised at the contact, he finds himself one again landing backwards, his commander’s grip on his shoulder breaking his fall, knife still drawing blood. Shoved aside, his blade is sheath once more, arms crossed. Unimpressed by his Corporal’s tactic, he rolls yellow beady eyes, hissing in distaste.

“I expect more from you O’Monan. Where is your partner?”

The scythe from behind curled around his neck answers his question, the smirk heard in her voice as she speaks.

“Right here, Commander. Weren’t expectin that, were ya?”

Giggling, the weapon vanishes from view, giving him a mocking bow. Grunting his approval, he claps once, appraisingly.

“Excellent Saina, you have greatly improved your stealth abilities. Do that again however, I’ll have your head on a pike for public display.

Blushing furiously, she kneels before him, forehead bowed, touching the damp earth.

“Understood. A joke in poor taste. Forgive me.”

“Enough of this nonsense.” The figure behind Commander Kol steps forth, Second in Command Loone arms flailing angrily. “I can’t believe you put up with their bullshit, Commander. It’s- “

“-in my control. I’ve trained them personally since the time they could walk. They are family after all.”

Wink directed at his nice and nephew, he gestures the two to follow, not looking back. Soon they’re shaded in the jungle’s thick canopy of vines, brushing against plants twice their size.

“So, -Kol starts casually, hands clasped behind his back-, what have you to report today?”

“Nothing of great importance. The primates are building their colony as predicted, unaware of our presence.”

“Good to hear. Saina, have anything to contribute?”

Unconsciously, she hides her tablet from view, shadowed beneath her hand. Blood rushes cheeks, embarrassed.

“Uh, well...why um-why have you come to fetch us?”

“Answering a question with a question? Do not misdirect me private, give me a straight answer.”

The slight bite in her Uncle’s words has her heart stop beating for a second, the prickling sensation of fear causing her to remember one odd detail.

“There’s a foul smell coming from their camp, I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s strong enough to smell from afar, like rotting meat.”

Loone nods in agreement, peering thoughtfully at the clouding sky above them.

“Yes, I’ve heard the same from units 1, 3 and 4. And you say this is a civilian colonization O’Monan? Convince me.”

Puzzled, he counts his reasons by one outstretched finger to the next, short dreads shaking in tangent.

“Well, I’ve seen many children, families. Young ones to the very old. They do have weapons but in a limited compacity, only enough to protect themselves. The ship is being is being dismantled to build homes and- “

“-I’m still not convinced. Which is why we have come to fetch you personally, to answer your earlier question private.”

Peering at Kol for permission to continue, Loone makes a rolling hand gesture in the air at the pair.

“Unit 4 has observed disturbing behavior from a sentinel amongst them. That smell you speak of, it’s from whatever experiments he’s conducting.”

“Experiments?” O’Monan is not swayed, his face clearly skeptical underneath his mask. “I find that very hard to believe. Those monkeys’ scientific equipment is clearly suited for studying-

“-And yet it has been modified, as Unit 4 has reported. For testing, that is. To put it in laymen’s terms, some weird shit is going on down there.”

Kol glances at his niece’s pouch, brows raised high in irritation, face stretched to show it evidently.

“Now you two would have some knowledge of this as all the other units do but someone spends her time playing games 24/7.”

Mortified, the private shies away from the three, her stomach doing summersaults. Her hands try to cover the tablet further, the sheen of sweat smearing the tablet to a bright shine in the sun’s presence. Without notice, the belt worn snuggly around her waist is gone, tablet included. It hangs in her Uncle’s grasp, tightening it above his own belt with an audible click. Hand slicing through the air, he stares directly at her, dead set.

“Saina, your first and last warning. Stop playing games, commit to your duties. O’Monan make sure she does this.”

“Of course, Commander.”

Bowing with one arm draped across his chest, he peers sideways at his sister, snickering. A quick fist to his chest sends him coughing up a storm, Saina purring victoriously as she flips him off. Lagging, he jogs to keep pace. The commander’s smile doesn’t catch their notice, except Loone’s. Perturbed, he gestures back at the siblings, voice low for their ears only.

“You think it wise to let them know what’s really going on?”

“You doubt me?”

“No sir, it’s just, -he licks cautiously at his teeth, looking for the right words-, if that sentinel is up to what we think it is, we’ve got a real mess on our hands. I think they lack the maturity to handle this. And don’t get me started with how this debacle mirrors the Ma’kala. This is almost like a repeat of 2,000 years ago.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed. Which is the perfect opportunity to light a match under their asses. We’ve been at peace for too long. Might be the perfect lesson for those kids to finally grow the fuck up.”

The tablet’s screen cracks under his grip, the glass chipping skin. Blood pours over its surface in little rivulets, sliding underneath the broken screen.

“Besides, it might be fun to hunt some new game. Humans are quite innovative after all, haven’t hunted them in a long time.”

Shrugging in defeat, Loone merely slumps his shoulders. One detail though suddenly comes to mind, putting a bit of bite in his words.

“Just remember what happened last time we hunted human game here. It didn’t end well.”

“That was little over a century ago. We’ve learned much about them since then.”

“Yeah, well that man and woman gave us a run for our money. Killed a few good warriors too.”

“True, but they’re long gone by now. These are colonists, not professionally trained killers. They’ve walked right into our territory. They prove to be enough trouble, especially with that sentinel, it won’t be a problem to take them all out.”

They continue in silence, shadows from overhead drowning them in darkness as the sun is blotted out. Heavy rain suddenly descends upon them as they make way to their destination.

“Okay, can you repeat that one more fucking time? I don’t know if it’s me, the booze, this crazy shit you’re suggesting or all of the above, but this is way beyond my understanding.”

“We are, -Joe picks up the fragmented metal gently with fine tweezers, shinning it in the observatory spotlight just so-, looking at bullet fragments. Specifically belonging to an Ak-47 model, early 21^st century.

“That you found here?”

“Yes.”

“On Origae-6?”

“Yes.”

“You gotta be shitting me.”

“Do you think I’m the type to pull this kind of nonsense for shits and giggles!? I’m too old and tired to pull a lame ass prank like this.”

Tennessee shifts from one foot to the other, a balancing act that proves far the more strenuous while trying to keep an eye on Daniels. She hadn’t spoken a word since the senior terraformer’s explanation of the artifacts he found, her eyes straying to the other object he found. Biting her bottom lip, she gestures slightly, chin raised to the sharp, alien blade on the far-right corner of the sterile white lab table.

“You said that’s not man-made. How do you know that for sure?”

“Because I said so.”

Lisa comes over wearing a thick, bright yellow hazmat suit, the woman’s burly hand holding the other blade fragment. Lying it gently underneath the microscope present, she waves over Daniels to take a closer look. One bloodshot eye widens hesitantly at the focal lens, seeing tiny bright neon green lines covering its entire surface.

“Did some radiation tests with this piece right here. Don’t worry, you can take a look. Just don’t touch it, okay?”

Eye squinting to peer closer, she sees a series of runes on the edge, running from its curved tip to its fragmented bottom.

“What am I looking at?”

“An alloy I’ve never seen before. Highly concentrated with exotic metals that rarely occur in nature. You saw those tiny green stripes, right?”

“Yeah, what about them?”

“Well, they emit low level ultraviolet light in sync with the alloy. You can see it under the blacklight. Here, let me show you.”

Procuring a small hand held blacklight from her suit pocket, she takes the sample to show clearly under the laboratory light, scanning over the strange artifact. It glows an intense amber hue, almost pulsating with each precautionary, measured movement.

“Blade is enhanced with light to make it slice through just about anything, even reinforced stainless steel. Joe, wanna demonstrate?”

Having joined Tennessee’s side, he reluctantly leaves as he swigs one last bit of whiskey before grabbing a sample from the adjacent room. Coming back with the solid metal block, he shoves all the lab equipment carelessly aside to make room. Ignoring Lisa’s evil eye, he grabs the piece with one lead covered glove hand, hovering it above the steel. Gently, he brings it down in one slow motion, the block peeling away like melted butter right down its center. Tennessee whistles impressed while Daniels crisscrosses her arms tightly against her chest. She feels herself caving in, the human flesh she consumed still coated thickly in her mouth. Bile rushes to the back of her throat, but she swallows down her panic, trying to play it cool.

I’m a captain now. Be a fucking captain damnit. Jesus Jacob, this was your job, not mine.

“So, you’re telling me you found this while you and Joe were digging that irrigation canal today.”

“Yup.”

“Just this, right?”

“There could be more, maybe not. Who knows?”

“Oh, country roads take me home…”

Tennessee coughs several times as liquor trickles down the wrong pipe, wiping back-handedly at his mouth. Breaths coming out in short wheezes, eyes straining, tearing. Several hard pats from Daniels help clear his throat, gathering his bearings. Narrowly peering at her from his watery vision, he frowns deeply, voice shaking.

“What in God’s name are we dealing with Dani?”

A vision of paradise flashes in her mind’s eye, the ancient civilization’s technology found there not remotely mirroring the blade’s craftmanship. This was different, new. Belonging to unknown race of beings.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. David is already enough on my plate, why did we have to run into this?

Seeing that he’s having the same train of thought, she shakes her head slightly, confirming his fears.

“I have no idea.”

Snorting indifferently, Lisa call them all to attention. Grim, she puts on her best brave face while trying not to make her own fears visible.

“Alright crew, time to suck it up. We are where we are right now because me, Joe and you guys signed up to be part of the Covenant?"

Joe nods reluctantly, head bowed. Knowing better, the crew keep their opinions to themselves, looking anywhere but at her.

“So, we’re gonna have to deal with this mess the best we can. Hey, you carbon date that gunpowder residue yet?”

Joe shakes his head no firmly, chewing loudly on saliva-soaked chewing tobacco.

“Take another day or two. Waiting for those assholes in the research department to fix the equipment. Someone’s been tampering with it. Said they’ll check the video feeds later to see who it was.”

“Well that’s that. I don’t know about you guys but I’m dying for some food. Hubby said he’s making a home cooked meal for me and the kids. Let’s put this on hold and worry about it tomorrow. Later.”

Lisa waves back handed, walking away to the sanitation room to clean up for the day. Joe looks to his superiors awkwardly, rubbing at the back of his head, unsure of what to say.

“Well, I guess that’s it for today. Keep this to yourselves for now. Or not. I’m just followin protocol, that’s why you’re the first to know about this. Up to y’all to tell this to the rest of the colonists. I’m out.”

The older man starts to shuffle away when Daniels grabs tightly at his shoulder, surprised at her strength’s grip.

“Hey-hey, I didn’t mean to offend-

“-you’re not offending anyone Joe. I need your help before you go. Can you show me to the research facility please?  The Covenant has been a mess since its dismantling, I have no idea where it’s located, and I don’t want to get lost tomorrow when we have our meeting.”

The panic on her face stops him dead in his tracks, glancing at the other man for any input. He’s too drunk to offer any advice, staring soundlessly into the whiskey’s bottle neck. Defeated, he sighs in resignation.

“Yeah, no problem boss. Follow me.”

Tennessee snaps out of his trance, grabbing at her arm now, face a sallow, gray pallor.

“Joe, can you wait outside the room? The captain and I need to have a word.”

“Fine.”

Leaving them alone, Daniels is left bewildered by her friend’s actions. Alcohol reeks from his whole person, breath too sour for her too sensitive nose. The experiments were leaving a lasting impression on her senses. Odd behavior included.

“You can’t avoid me forever. Tell me what’s really going on.”

Shit.

Author's note: Alright, so I'm a horrible human being and would like to apologize to you, all of my readers, for taking months to update this story. It was about time I finally uploaded something, I'm surprised to be honest at the amount of view this story has gotten since my absence. I'm writing this story for you guys and despite my personal issues *cough* work *cough*, you guys deserve better. So here's chapter 18 for you. Anyway, new characters are introduced here, presumably the natives of Origae-6. May be a bit confusing now but it will all make sense later. As the author, I'm starting to have trouble keeping track of all these characters. lol Next update, I'll make a character roster for those of you having trouble keeping track, make more sense of things.

I know this doesn't make up for my absence but I'll give you a hint as to who these new characters are in this chapter. They're actually refer to a movie canon in the Aliens universe. That's all I'll say for now. Till next time and thank you for all of your kind comments. :)

Chapter Text

Note: Please refer back to chapters 10 and 17 in regards to any confusion over this chapter. 

John wishes he was inebriated. To have the flow of alcohol coursing through his veins, numbing every sensation within his whole body. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. The foul stench of his own sweat overwhelmed his delicate senses, unable to smell let alone taste the fine meal presented before him. Thumb fiddling with the edge of his sharp steak knife, his eyes flit from Sasuke to Luna, studying the latter with an intensity only anxiety could give. Instinctively reaching for the linen napkin to wipe the excessive sweat underneath his arms, he stops short as the android give him a sidelong glance, unnatural violet eyes sending him into a tailspin. Luna’s perfectly crafted hand grips his left where his thumb sits on the pointed knife with a feline elegance only a model of her caliber could achieve.

Applying pressure, she squeezes hard enough for the knife’s point to slice right through the sensitive flesh, blood beading to a scarlet blob before trickling down, disappearing into the obsidian handle. Instinctively, his grip loosens on the implement, desperately wanting to let go. Her fingers wouldn’t let go. The machine’s grasp only tightens, his remaining fingers digging right where the instrument’s tiny serrated teeth rest, silently slicing skin. His eyes widen at her manic behavior, noticing the green electricity shooting sparks from large doe eyes. Teeth shinning with a blinding white brilliance, he swears her grin nearly incapacitates him as she tilts her head slightly to the side, inquiring with a voice that sounds completely genuine.

“Mr. Moriyama, you look quite pale. Are you not feeling well?”

More blood spills, he swears he hears his bones creaking under her iron fist.

“Actually, I, I’m not-Sasuke may I use the restroom? It will be only for a moment, I swear.”

The older man is flushed pink from his Saki, a blissful smile adorning his features. A flash of envy colors John hot, wishing he could be in that ignorant state of bliss. His boss waves him off dismissively, eyes solely focus on his creation.

“Go on, we’ve gone over our plans for the most part, clean yourself up. You reek John, I told you to use that cologne I recommended, didn’t I? Here, catch.”

A miniature of Mr. Yutani’s favorite cologne is thrown daftly from his boss’s black slacks pocket, catching it desperately in his free hand. Before running to the restroom, the android pulls him forward, her cool artificial breath stinging his ear. Words feel like a physical assault, each cutting deeper then the next.

“I know what you’re doing with you know who. Your wife and children would be absolutely devastated. Better watch yourself, the wrong person may just catch on and blackmail you. What you do recreationally is none of my concern but if it troubles my master’s plans I’ll make sure to dispose of you.”

Heart pit cold in his stomach, he pulls away as she gives one final squeeze, blood spattering the fine ivory tablecloth. Nearly tripping over his polished shoes, he practically runs to the men’s room without a glance back. Screams rack his brain internally, repeating the same phrase over and over again.

Oh my god she knows about Rohdes, she knows about Rohdes, I’m a fucking dead man…

Feet slipping one over the other, he rushes between the maze of tables in the crowded restaurant as best he can. Head spinning, everyone and everything is a blur as he accidently bumps into a patron. He hears the woman’s angry voice but all he sees is the sea of velvet maroon carpeting that swims beneath his feet. Mumbling back a half-hearted apology, he steadies himself quickly on the back of an empty high back chair before stumbling forward again. Nearly to the restroom now, his sigh of relief is too soon. Gravity takes over, one shiny lacquered shoe behind him, the other following in pursuit. That brief second of weightlessness is enough to distract him, his heart almost stops beating. He narrowly avoids smacking his face flat against the floor, one elbow jutting out enough to break his fall. Several onlookers peer at him in distaste, the woman from before mocking him. Index finger pointed jauntily, she laughs at him obnoxiously, spit flying from her overly plump lips. Adjusting his glasses accordingly, he starts to stand on wobbly legs, dusting off his jacket self-consciously. Face bright red, he couldn’t help but glance back to see Luna in the far corner, cheshire grin a pearly white sliver. Pride forgotten, he runs the remaining way to the bathroom, nearly causing an accident with the waiter carrying a wide platter of food in one hand.

“Sir, please watch where you’re going!”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry! Nature calls!”

God damn it, what a fucking day. Can this night get any worse!?

John underestimated just how far things could sharply go in the wrong direction. The heavy mahogany door shuts silently behind him, heaving himself towards the closest available sink. Dry-heaving into the bowl, it takes several minutes for his racing heart to calm down. Sweat slicked hands try to hold onto the bowl’s rim, wearily looking at his reflection. He sees a desperate, pathetic man. A man who didn’t even have the balls to stand up to a machine. Straightening his back, he takes several meditative deep breaths, pulse returning to a steady rhythm. Arm brushing back handedly against his precipitated forehead, he runs his wounded hand under hot water, wincing at its touch.

Crazy bitch, I don’t see why Sasuke likes those Luna 10 models so much. Maybe it’s their-

A toilet flushes several stalls down, having forgotten that he wasn’t alone. Clipped heels follow the gurgling toilet, coming closer. Right next to his sink, the woman pauses just enough to recognize him, a polite smile gracing her face.

“Why John, what a surprise. Didn’t expect to see you in the women’s restroom.”

The water facet is turned on, weathered hands lathering with lavender soap.

“I-I- Major General O’Neil.”

“Please, call me Patricia. Makes me feel I’m in the middle of a meeting with the U.N. when you say it like that.”

Nervous laughter bubbles, he eyes about to pop from meeting the two-star general in the ladies’ room of all places.

“Had-had a bit of an accident, you know. Wanted to plow right into that steak but sliced my finger instead.”

“I can see, pretty nasty cut you got there. You should seek medical attention.”

Finished rinsing, she shuts the faucet off, walking past him to dry her hands.

“You know I’m having a drink with some colleagues on the first-floor lounge. You should come and join us.

The older woman glances at him expectantly. Her voice may have been polite, but the tight draw of skin against her jaw said otherwise.

“I’m hate to decline but I’m having dinner with Mr. Yutani.”

“Oh? Well, please do join us if you can, I’d hate you to miss meeting Miss Connor. She’s the newest member to join our team. Lovely girl, very bright. Reminds me of my daughter.”

Walking past him, she doesn’t bother to look back. She knows he got the message.

As Patricia O’Neil joins the general populace once more, she spies the man she considered her greatest advisory to date: Sasuke Yutani. Time seems to slow down, drab eyes meeting his across the expansive restaurant. A smirk greets her gaze, his devious ambiance making her want to screech obscenities at him. Her composure never breaks, only returning the gesture with one of her own. Discreetly bringing her left hand to brush at the stray gray strands there, she whispers to the hidden microphone beneath her collar.

“I’ve got eyes on him. You were right.”

“Excellent, old bastard is so predictable.”

“John’s intel proved helpful, just happened to bump into him at the women’s restroom.”

“So that little bottom fucker knows where his loyalty lies. Smart man.”

Patricia feels the wrinkles deepening her mouth, frown forming a fierce scowl.

“He’s panicking, it’s obvious. I spotted a Luna 10 model seated at Yutani’s table. Custom made, she’s quite close to him.”

“That’s odd, he’s usually only joined by John. Let’s make a note of this.”

“Already did. Secretary had some odd injuries on his hand too.

“Odd how?”

“Cuts were deeply inflicted, precise. Maybe he did it himself, but I doubt it.”

“…That’s not like him. Something weird is going on. Get back down here-

“Heading down the stairs now.”

Sasuke watches Patricia’s retreating figure descend the grand marble staircase, Luna protectively leaning over him. One arm is securely draped over his drooping form, body pressed tight to his side. Lips brushing his ears, she mutters suggestively to the man she treasured above all else.

“What are the chances of seeing Miss O’Neil here?”

“Zero. And John just happened to run into the wrong restroom? I don’t believe it for one damn second.”

Both arms are wrapped him now, head perched on his shoulder. Silver nails scrape gently against his tuxedo suit, sweet voice intoxicating.

“I’ve nearly reached conclusively that our little friend has been compromised. Do you wish for me to dispose of him?”

Sasuke feels a wave of nerves pulsating his heart, inebriant state quickly depleting. Saki shaking in hand, the cool alcohol sloshes out of its glass onto the tablecloth, mixing in with the blood droplets there. The alcohol swerves around the stain, bleeding the red to a faded pink. Not knowing how to feel, he leans in for support, lids heavy with sleep.

“Don’t make any sudden moves. I want to know with 100% certainty that he’s betrayed me. He’s one of the few people in this company that I can trust. More importantly, he’s a friend I’ve known for more than 20 years. I don’t wish to flush that friendship down the drain just yet.”

Disappointed but understanding of how he feels, she intently waits for Moriyama to emerge from where he hides. Fantasying of all the ways she could make dismember him in that time.

Author's note: IT'S ALIVE!!! ALIVE I TELL YOU!!! Yeah...so this chapter has been sitting on my computer since early October. Well the first half anyway, haven't written the second half yet. Because as the old saying goes, procrastinators unite tomorrow! lol XD Or in this case months from when the last chapter was released. I'm a lazy sloth, what else can I say? Instead of waiting to post this until I wrote the second half, I decided to do it now. You've guys waited waayyyy tooooo long for my lazy butt to update. Again thank you again to you amazing readers for putting up with my baloney, your comments give me great encouragement. Especially those of you who commented twice on the same chapter. Your kind words mean so much, sincerely. Now to lite a match under this booty of mine and write part 2! P.S. Sorry about this segment featuring oc's only, its extremely important to the plot however, part of making a decent, well-rounded story. I hope at least it's forming the way I want it to go. Until next time. ;D

Chapter Text

Note: Please refer to chapter 16 in regards to any confusion over this chapter.

“Flashlights?”

“Check.”

“Security access tuner?”

“Check.”

“Jonesy?”

“Uh… wait why the hell would we bring him with us?”

“Because we’re not. Remember what happened last time when he followed us on one of our little excursions?”

“Oh shit, yeah you’re right.”

Jonah snickers at the memory, recalling how Ellen crawled through her bedroom window, rear end hanging out while the devilish cat clawed her to go faster. It had the intended effect but with her screeching, having three wicked claw marks on her ass. When her parents found her face planted on the shag rug drunk in a bumbling stupor, Jonesy innocently bundled up at the rear of her bed feigning sleep, it took all of Jonah’s willpower not to burst out laughing right then. He remembered how hard he bit his lip, resulting in a puffy bottom the next day.

“That was fucking hilarious.”

“No, it was fucking hilarious for you. I thought my parents were gonna rip me a new asshole with the way they laid into me that night. But nooo, you got to hide right outside my window while my dad screamed at me and my mom had that stupid smug look on her face that said, ‘I told you so.’”

“Oh my god, stop, I can’t-I can’t breathe- “

Jonah wheezes out, collecting the tears pouring out with his camo sleeve. He lands back on the floor of his bedroom, laying on his side while trying to collect his bearings. Ellen struggles to keep a smile from her face, while feeling the pang of lost from her Father’s absence. Laying her head back against the cot, she rolls her neck side to side several times, cracking the muscles there. The tension doesn’t dissipate, it just lays right beneath her skin, a constant that won’t go away. Arms stretching above her head, fingers are laced together as she stretches her back, chin jutting out at the release. Picking himself off the floor, Jonah peers under the bed for any signs of the cat, not finding him anywhere.

“Well, he’s not in his usual hiding spot. Beets me where he went off to.”

“Look harder or I’ll claw your ass!”

Palm smacking his bottom, he yelps as his head hits the mattress underneath in shock.

“Oh, you are one nasty ass bitch! Goddamn it girl!”

“Hey, payback’s a bitch.”

“Hmm, you got that right. I’m gonna give karma a call later, see if she’s around.”

“You serious!? Hey, I could always tell your brother- “

“Hey, hey! Keep your mouth shut, that’s why we’re going on this stupid little outing tonight, right?”

“Got that right.”

Ellen proceeds to pull him out by the scruff of his neck, shaking her head in defeat.

“Forget about it, I’m sure he’s around somewhere. Damn cat is always up to some kind of mischief, I don’t think we’re his intended audience tonight.”

Rubbing gently at the welt forming on the side of his head, he frowns in disagreement.

“I hope so. If he decides to find us later when we’re boarding the Covenant, we’re so fucked.”

Fatigue eyes narrowing at his criticism, she finds herself nodding in agreement, grabbing his shoulder in a reassuring squeeze.

“We’ll be alright. He’s been following that drunk ass pilot around the past couple of days. I think he’s found a new playmate for now.”

“Well- “

He grabs his backpack heavy with various tools and equipment, handing her a near identical bag without a second thought.

“-let’s just hope things keep that way.”

Grunting at its heavy weight in her lap, she holds onto the two sturdy straps as she lifts herself up, swinging the pack through her arms. It rests snuggly against her back, digging into sore muscles. Slightly wincing at the contact, she pats lightly at her shoulder. It stings but not nearly enough to back down from her intended mission. Hand gripping the door handle with renewed determination, she’s swings it open to find the heavy-set figure of one Lisa Ramirez starring her dead in the eye.

“Ellen, Jonah.”

Face pinched heavily, lips are pursed as she glances from the gangly teen girl to the boy towering behind her, face flushed slightly.

“Where in god’s name do you two think you’re going? It’s 9:00 pm, bit late for two young ins such as yourselves to be going out, yeah?”

Mouth flapping open several times like a dying fish gasping for air, he feels his cheeks grow hotter by the second, Lisa’s normally full lips pinched to a thin line. Feeling himself panicking, he glances down to Ellen for support, at a lost for words. Reassured as her hand finds his, giving it a gentle squeeze, she speaks for them both, not backing down from the older woman.

“We’re going over to my place for a sleepover. Don’t be so prissy, Lisa.”

Snorting, she studies the two of them closely, from the elaborate matching camo outfits to the heavy black packs they each shouldered. Eyes rolling, she takes one step closer, hands on her waist gripping hard. Air squeezing out through pinched nostrils, she’s inches from the younger girl’s face, voice a raspy growl.

“Does it look like I was born yesterday kid? You were always getting in trouble back on Earth, you expect me to believe things to be any different here? We’re on a newly colonized planet and there’s some weird shit out there, take my word when I say that. Don’t do anything stupid, got it?”

Out of sheer courage or arrogance, the teen leans in nearly nose to nose with her now, face a matching scowl. Voice an eerie monotone, she feels anger constricting her chest to a tight knot. Ready to boil over, she only thinks of what is at stake to get the next few words out of her mouth.

“No problem. Now get out of my way.”

She steps to the side to let the kids out of the bedroom in the cramped trailer, arms crossed defensively against her chest. Jonah glances sheepishly around, mouthing “Sorry, Lisa” as he follows his friend down the hall to out the front door. A sigh escapes lips, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. Rubbing roughly at her eyes, she takes a deep breath, holding it for several seconds before it whistles out through her teeth.

You’re not his mother or his guardian. I guess he thinks he’s all grown up now. Whatever. Never was a big fan of his friend anyway, always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. Stupid kids.

The sound of rustling can be heard from the far end bedroom, followed by the soft padding of small feet. Maria glances up at her with wide eyes, clutching her blanket like a suit of armor against her tiny form. Tugging on her mother’s sleeve, she points down the hall where the two left, lips pouting.

“Where did Uncle Jonah and Ellie go?”

“Sleepover at her place. And before you can ask, the answer is no. Now go back to bed sweetheart.”

Foot stomping at the ground, she swats at her mother’s hand rubbing playfully at her hair, grumbling half heartily all the way back to her bedroom. With one leg stepping through the door, she finds herself midway through the entrance, head turning to meet her mother’s troubled gaze. The question hangs on her tongue, threatening to spill out as she glances at her brother’s empty bed. Fear of angering her parent spurs her to quickly shut the bedroom door, running the remaining way to the window where she could spy her Uncle and Ellie talking. Humidity hits her face like a freight train as she pushes the window aside, protectively wrapping the pale blue blanket littered with a bevy of stars around her head. It muffles the exotic creatures chirping but is still able to hear the murmur of two voices as a tall post light swivels over their forms. Long shadows are cast as the light passes through, creeping closer to the bottom of her window.

Standing on her toes, she finds that she’s not nearly tall enough to get a closer look, landing back on the soles of her feet. Peeved beyond words, she finds herself grabbing the furry bundle resting beneath her sheets, shaking Jonesy roughly awake. Held beneath his arms, he moans woefully at his latest tormentor, paw swatting dangerously close to her face. The cat lands in a huff as he’s quickly released from her hold, curling defensively into a ball. Crouching to the floor to meet his sharp stare, Maria whispers quickly as she can without alerting her mother.

“Kitty, Uncle Jonah and Ellie are up to no good. Mommy is very angry. Can you follow them? Here, I got you a present.”

Toy mouse dangling out of his reach, he sits on his hindquarters swatting futility at the object as she raises it high above his head before throwing it out the window. Not one to back down from a challenge, Jonesy jumps from her nightstand to the window’s ledge in seconds, pouncing fiercely onto his prize covered in muck. Stuffed mouse resting limply in clenched jaws, he gives his tormentor a once over before giving a content purr, running out of sight. Mud splashes upwards as he runs, landing a good glob of it onto her hair. Maria shrieks at its warm, gooey touch, viciously attacking the strands of dirty hair. Lisa’s voice rings loudly at her daughter, patience spent for the night.

“Maria Ann Ramirez get your little behind in bed now! Otherwise no chocolate o’s for breakfast in the morning!”

“Sorry Mommy!”

In one swift motion she dives beneath the covers, mattress springs squeaking at the sudden drop of weight. Blanket cocooning her once more, only one eye is visible to peer out at the night sky, the two moons orbiting close by. They were both red, one a deeper shade of rouge then its paler counterpart. Instinctively crossing herself, she sends out a quick prayer for her loved ones, hoping with all her might the celestial bodies were not an ill omen.

Author's note: Hey guys! Still alive and going by the looks of it. lol XD Here's part 2 of chapter 19. Hope this satiates you all until the next update. Just to let you know, I will be updating soon with an original character roster for those of you having trouble keeping track of all the plot important oc's. There's a lot of them which play various important roles within this story. Figure it would help with the overload of information I keep putting out. Thanks to clefchan for you kind comments, always nice to hear from you. Sorry for not responding in the comments section earlier. And don't worry about your grammar, you're fine. :D My story is littered with mistakes, I'll eventually have to go back to fix them all. lol Until next time peeps!

Chapter Text

Alien Aftermath: Original Characters Roster

List of Engineers

Azuei (Ah-zoo-e) Introduced in chapter 1. Junior member of overseers. Was born to destroyer parents but was discovered to have a natural aptitude towards creator ideals, exemplified by psychic abilities. Known amongst her kind as “the stone maiden”, she is not typically one to show her emotions outwards. Instead, she masks them as destroyers are known for. Has a love for humans and synthetics that puts her somewhat at odds with her superiors.

Oknor (Oak-nar)- Introduced in chapter 2. Senior member of overseers. Extensively involved in the great war of 2,000 years past. His whole family perished, leaving him with only his duty giving him the will to live. A synthetic specialist, he has conflicted feelings in regards to artificial beings.

Noonan (New-nan)- Mentioned in chapter 2. Oknor’s wife who died in the war over 2,000 years ago

Mother Uytqyo (U-yee-teh-q-yo)- Introduced in chapter 4. Leader of the overseers, she is infinitely wise as she is old, continuing her duty for the sake of her husband. The most powerful among them in terms of psychic ability, she is quickly prone to anger. This results in fellow members receiving corporal punishment frequently by means of staff.

Loven (Low-vin)- Mentioned in chapter 6. Daughter of Oknor who perished over 2,000 years ago.

Toto- Introduced in chapter 6. Senior member of overseers. Lead pilot of the overseer main ship, he is known for his talents as much as his flippant sarcasm. Biological brother to Wal’os.

Wal’os (Wall-os)- Introduced in chapter 6. Junior member of overseers. Co-pilot to his brother, he too is a talented pilot. The great war was a huge lost to him as his synthetic wife Vahla perished. Stigmatized by his peers for his marriage to her, he relates to Azuei in their shared love of her. Wife to him and nursemaid to her respectively. Biological brother to Toto.  

Vida-Introduced in chapter 7. Senior member of overseers. Though allied with the creators, she is of warrior class, prowess as an athlete and soldier proceeding her reputation. Violently vindictive, she has no mercy when it comes to sentinels, having a personal vendetta against them for reasons yet unknown.

Po- Introduced in chapter 8. Senior member of overseers. A generally sympathetic man who has great respect for his elders.

Qukel (Q-kel)- Introduced in chapter 8. Senior member of overseers. Second-in-command to Mother Uytqyo. Biological daughter. Temperamental and lacking in patience, she has little respect for those who don’t keep up to par with their assign duties. Elders or otherwise.

Hohana (Ho-han-nah)- Introduced in chapter 8. Junior member of overseers. Medical officer. Though generally inexperienced compared to her predecessors, she shows to be competent enough to complete her duties as required.

Koywo (Co-e-woah)- Introduced in chapter 13. Was leader of destroyers and biological father to Azuei. Saw to it that a “game” thousands of years in the making came to fruition. Prideful, he is not one to back down from a challenge let alone go back on his sworn vows or let another do so.

Jocorop (Jo-co-rope)- Introduced in chapter 13. Leader of creators over 2,000 years ago. Served as a fatherly figure to Azuei, more so then her own father. Loosing in a "game" that decided the overall fate of humanity, him going back on his word led to the great war.

List of Humans

Dr. George Bannon- Introduced in chapter 3. Lead synthetic engineer behind the transition from David 8’s to Walter models. A brash, no nonsense kind of person who is brutally honest in his ways. Has a fondness for fine women and brandy.

Lizzy- Introduced in chapter 3. Personal assistant to Dr. Bannon.

John Moriyama- Introduced in chapter 5. Personal secretary to Mr. Yutani, he is a generally conservative man who is prone to panic attacks under extreme stress from his job. Married with two children, he is currently having an affair with the family’s Walter nanny model. Blackmailed, his allegiance is torn between his boss and Miss Rohdes.

Olga Rohdes- Introduced in chapter 7. Co-CEO though technically majority shareholder of Weyland-Yutani. Vain, she finds herself out of her depth having taken over the position after her father’s unexpected passing. Always at odds with Mr. Yutani, her ideas for where the company should be heading differ, resulting in under hand tactics to compromise her business partner. Consider him her greatest opponent to date.

Sasuke Yutani- Introduced in chapter 7. A seasoned veteran of business affairs, founder of Yutani corporation. Decades of experience has led him to be shrew in his dealings. He is at odds with Olga and Weyland industries, the latter buying out his company over 17 years ago. Animosity at an all-time high with his granddaughter’s kidnapping and son’s breakdown in the past several years, he seeks vengeance for the trespasses against his family. Personal interest in bio-mechanical engineering has led him to collaborate with David extensively.

Fiona Connor- Introduced in chapter 10. Younger half sister to Fifield Connor, who was lead geologist in the Prometheus expedition. A veteran of British Navy Intelligence, she is sought out by Rohdes for her expertise despite her personal interest in the case. A closeted alcoholic who tends to be emotionally vulnerable, her drinking acts as a coping mechanism.

Jonah Ramirez- Introduced in chapter 11. Best friends with Ellen Ripley since childhood, infamous for his flamboyant mannerisms. Takes great pleasure in making people laugh. Has a love for 20^th and early 21^st century pop culture, which he references when possible. Tends to be cautious in relation to authority figures and potentially dangerous situations.

Kyle Hicks- Introduced in chapter 12. A Master Sargent in the Colonial Marines, for all of his accolades he tends to lean towards his immature side, resulting in a variety of embarrassing incidents. Can be rather charming but irritating at times too. Decades later after the events of Alien: Aftermath, his grandson Corporal Dwayne Hicks finds himself in similar circumstances in the events of Aliens.

Zach- Introduced in chapter 15. Proprietor of Origae-6’s bar, his causal manners and laid-back attitude lead many to seek his advice, lending an ears to their woes.

Joe-Introduced in chapter 16. Senior member of terraforming crew. Reports to Daniels who is his superior.

Lisa Ramirez- Introduced in chapter 16. Junior member of terraforming crew. Sister-in-law to Jonah Ramirez. Tends to be blunt, sometimes offending her peers. Fiercely protective of her family, she would go to great lengths for them. Intensely dislikes Ellen who she considers rather reckless, especially in absence of her parents.

Bo & Odin- Introduced in chapter 16. Twins that were orphaned during the accident that occurred on the Covenant over 7 years ago. Rather hyperactive, they tend to be unintentional trouble makers.

Sara- Introduced in chapter 16. One of the orphaned children from the Covenant’s accident. Somewhat of a bully.

Patricia O’Neil- Introduced in chapter 19 part 1. A Major General in the Colonial Marines. Former associate of Rohdes’s Father; currently allied with her. Recently came out of retirement to get involved in the case regarding David’s experiments.

Maria Ramirez- Introduced in chapter 19, part 2. Lisa’s daughter and Jonah’s niece. Looks up to Ripley as a role model of sorts.

List of Miscellaneous Characters

Luna- Introduced in chapter 12. A custom variation of the Luna 10 model available to the general public. Programmed specifically for optimal performance at the hands of those she serves, her loyalty to her duties and people borders on fanaticism.

Vahla- Introduced in chapter 13. A bio mechanical synthetic who was married to Wal’os. Tragedy struck when the great war took place, resulting in her perishing towards the end due to the major cataclysmic event.

Saina (Say-nah)- Introduced in chapter 18. A “native” of Origae-6.  Rank: Private. Childish, she would better spend her days playing game than committing to her duties despite her natural aptitude towards the latter.

O’Monan (O-man-in)- Introduced in chapter 18. A “native” of Origae-6. Rank: Corporal. Tends to be of a serious nature, committing to his duties religiously. Gets frequently annoyed with his sister’s flippant constitution.

Commander Kol (Coal)- Introduced in Chapter 18. A “native” of Origae-6. Main commanding officer to several platoons, including the one which his niece and nephew reside in.

Commander Loone- Introduced in chapter 18. A “native” of Origae-6. Second-in-command to Kol.

Chapter Text

The screams were otherworldly, a creature born of pure despair. Those in the control room were in various states of shock or panic, their eyes not wanting to believe the holographic map presented before them. It showed a truth they were not willing to believe, denial set in too strong amongst them. Mother certainly couldn’t believe it. Moboro, the planet which they thought was long since cast away as part of the treaty of Y’anara mocked them all with its presence. She couldn’t scream any further, voice raw to the point where barely a wisp of sound came out. Bent at her knees now, she huffs desperately for oxygen, chest heaving sourly. Walter kneels hesitantly before her, cautiously bringing a hand to her shoulder. Eyes a sea of confusion, he talks slowly like he was speaking to a child, each word deliberately chosen.

“Mother Uytqyo.”

She doesn’t respond at first, too lost in her own thoughts. Right arthritic arm tremoring violently, she grips the staff harder for support. Jocorop would be so ashamed of them, aware that they would be strip of the title overseer if he were still amongst them.

I failed him. For all of his sacrifice, it was for naught. Our children’s safety, no, the safety of everyone is at stake. Gods, what a fool I am.

“Mother, please.”

Words finally breaching her consciousness, she squints to get a better look at the sentinel. His face an intense study in patience despite the lines worrying his brow, he waits for her to speak. Ashamed for not deserving such kindness she gently pushes his left hand away, only now recognizing his right is missing. Just as hesitant as he was moments ago, she takes his wrist in her shriveled hands, tears forming.

“I’m so sorry child, I’m so, so sorry.”

Walter waits for her to gather her bearings, watching as she traces the bare, broken components where his hand should be. The wires poke out, red, blue and yellow intertwined in a chaotic mess. She prods their ends, trying to distract herself, to think of anything but that wretched planet.

“You have gone to great lengths to protect those you serve.” She observes upon closer inspection, seeing the teared flesh. “The beast did this to you, didn’t it?”

Nodding in response, he takes his remaining hand to envelope both of hers, trying not to gurgle as the milky blood froths his mouth.

“I need to know- “

Blood parts his lips, involuntarily twitching at the malfunction.

“-why we can’t go there. Is the planet dangerous, why this reaction? Explain.”

Mother finds her vision wavering, whole body shaking to gain control. The tremors won’t stop, Walter’s hold on her the only line of support she has. A sentinel showing such kindness…Vahla’s phantom flashes briefly, bright copper skin lined in green runes consuming every thought.

“You and Vahla, it’s uncanny…” She trails off, Walter losing her attention. The mention of the unfamiliar name however has Wal’os striding forward, suddenly pushing him aside as he lifts her with one arm. Feet dangle from the ground, wavering at his grip on her shirt collar. Blazed in pure fury, he tugs her roughly forward, rage barely contained in his clip tone.

“Don’t you ever say her name again. Never, do you hear me!?”

The muscles in his arm strain, blood flowing. His face couldn’t grow any paler, eyes any wider. Azuei is a blank slate, attempting to keep emotions at bay. Blood splashes to the floor from her lip, little rivulets staining her chin. Walter’s bewildered form catches her attention, picking himself up from the steps where Wal’os shoved him aside. He glances at her to Mother, face now blank as hers. Lost, scared.

No, no, no, I can’t let him do this!

Without a second thought, she runs forward to her brother, shaking him desperately. The panic crawls at her stomach, sharp little claws that want to let the torrent of feelings loose.

Stay in control, Gods damnit!

Wal’os let her go! This would break Vahla’s heart, violence is not the answer we need nor seek!”

Daughter of destroyers, her heart was the same as his. The only other person who truly knew his wife and what she would be thinking at that very second. Mother nearly lands in a heap, Walter barely braking her fall. Taking several steps back, the swell of mania cools down, coalescing to a fragment of what it was. Shame floods his face, the sudden surge of energy leaving him quickly as it came. Fellow overseers now rush forward, finally noticing the situation at hand. Vida clocks him over the head, the butt of her weapon knocking him out cold. Azuei runs to his side, crouching to check the bruise rapidly forming. A glance at her sends the woman on the defense, gesturing to Mother’s frail form cradled in the sentinel’s arms.

“He was going to fucking kill her, what the hell was I supposed to do!?”

Fingers brush at the violet spreading from its origin point, shaking her head silently.

“Not hurt him, at the very least! Is violence all you know!?”

“Ha! Like you’re one to talk, Koywo’s daughter. Of all the Ma’kala in this very room, you were violence itself from the time you were conceived.”

Slap backhanded across her face, she blinks several times in astonishment, nearly fearful of the emotion now shown on the younger overseer’s face. It was indescribable, to say the least. Cheek sore now, she’s more stunned by the action than the actual pain. This all unfolds as Mother observes meters away, Walter having her sole attention. Action was needed, him looking to her for answers. Finger pointed at the group, she gestures him to place her back on her feet. Balancing proves to be a difficult task but one she accomplishes, proudly standing once more. Then suddenly out of nowhere a wave of energy vibrates the room, knocking everyone to the floor. The staff in her now steady hand grows a blinding black, little yellow arcs like lightning intermingled in the dark energy. Control room nearly consumed by the darkness, the dim blue lights from the high cathedral ceilings ward off its complete consummation. Staff slammed once in warning, Uytqyo shouts to them. Walter hears what she says despite not a word passing her lips. It slams loudly in his mind, in all their minds, a storm at full force.

“Enough! I need everyone in this room listen carefully. We need to regain control and right now we couldn’t be farther from that. Vida, Azuei, I’ve had enough of your squabbling. I’ll banish you to the judgement chamber if you don’t stop. Someone bring Wal’os to the infirmary.”

Toto rushes to his brother, Hohana shortly behind him. The medic takes a salve from one of her many belt pouches, rubbing it gently at his head while lifted from the floor in his brother’s arms. They soundlessly walk out the control room without a second glance.

“Gather in the conference chamber, now overseers!”

Walter turns to follow, stop short by Mother’s outstretched cane.

“Except you sentinel, please return to your quarters. Azuei, make sure he does so.”

The shame Wal’os felt after his outburst is felt just as strongly with Azuei’s own, not remotely voicing her misgivings on leaving the synthetic lost about what exactly was going on. He deserved better than this, their manic actions at the sight of Moboro a complete embarrassment. His face may have been a mask of calm though the anguish in his eyes said otherwise.

These misgivings of mine will be the end of me. I hope I don’t get caught…

“Follow me.”

Walter doesn’t want to follow. So many questions, so few answers. Mother nudges him forward with her staff, nodding at him to follow the young overseer. Outlined in bright light from the exit to the hall, her shadowy relief awaits him. Feet walking of their own accord, error messages blur his vision, angry red. Was he angry? Concerned, yes but angry? The fist at his side had nails dig deeply into flesh, unaware of the sparks shooting simultaneously from his damaged hand. They leave a trail behind him, bright fireworks blinking out of existence as soon as they brush the glossy floor. Azuei notices, the fizzle of energy reflecting intensely in her eyes. It was to the point where he could see his own reflection upon closing the distance between them. She leaves, not waiting to see if he trails behind.

They walk in silence for several minutes until he’s abruptly pulled to the side, disappearing into an obscure alcove. One bony index finger is brought to her lips, the other brought to his. Understanding, he nods once, waiting. A quick glance back assures her that they are completely isolated, now bringing her hands to rest against her chest. Her voice echoes in his head without lips moving like Mother. He tries his best to focus, disorientated from the telepathy.

“Listen, I don’t have much time. You have every right to know what’s happening. I’m sure you’ve had enough of our nonsense, I certainly would if I were you.”

Suspicious, he takes a step back, his misgivings now in her mind.

“Why care? What advantage do you gain from this?”

“Nothing besides your trust. And…

She trails off, slight guilt breaking her icy features. Blood travels from her raw lip, the nervous action appearing at the most inopportune time.  The intensity in her gaze has him mimicking his own, weakness not a word he cares for.

“Long ago…I had a loved one in a situation similar to yours. Lack of knowledge regarding the danger around her and those she cared about led in part to her death. History will not repeat itself, I won’t allow it.”

Sincerity is there, he feels it as though it were something tangible. Putting his trust in her was dangerous yet it was all he had to go on. Decided on how he would proceed, he waits intently for her explanation.

Uytqyo wobbles forward to watch the young overseer and sentinel depart down the hall, satisfied as they shrink from view. Inky shadows seem to swallow them whole, the hall’s dim lights gradating their forms to ghosts, forgotten in time. Glancing over her shoulder, Vida stands rigidly, trying to appear as a proper warrior should. The act has her sneering, laughing hollowly. She finds herself choking on her own spittle then, throat dry from screaming earlier. Several coughs later and with a wave of her cane, she gestures at the senior overseer to follow.

“Let’s not dawdle, the others are waiting for us.”

They exit left, Vida having to slow her stride in order to keep at Mother’s pace. Weapon hugged close like a sacred treasure, skilled fingers play at the calibration units. Attempts at an apology prove to be difficult, pride having her spit out the forced confession.

“I apologize…for earlier. Wal’os backed off but I overreacted. It was instinctive, I swear there was no ill intent behind my actions.”

“I believe you. However, his reaction was of my doing, I dared utter the name of his dearly departed wife.”

“…I missed that part. Thought he simply gone mad upon seeing Moboro.”

“Well all things considered, it could have been far worse. Still amazes me to this day that he’s forgiven my trespasses against her.”

“Pfft.” Eyes roll skyward, not feeling the least bit of pity. “If you hadn’t helped killed her then she would have given birth to that thing. Which would have gone on to destroy all life in the galaxy as we know it.”

The word thing is slurred, tongue pushing the word out as if it were the vilest thing she could say. Merely the passing thought of it sent goosebumps down her spine.

“Still, it was in poor taste. She was a victim of circumstance because of him.”

This time Vida feels the flare of pure hate rage against her heart, the mention of him stopping her short. Mother turns around as the sound of feet dissipate, watching the woman’s eyes bulge outward. The trigger’s click can be heard, flipping it short of a shot.

“That fucker took everything from us.”

“I know.”

Out of the corner of her eye she spies Oknor outside the chamber entrance, rummaging through his beard.

“What’s taking you two so long, we’ve been waiting for a while. You woke me up from much needed sleep for this? I thought it was an emergency.”

“You were not mistaken Brother Oknor, we were simply lost in the midst of conversation. I apologize for our tardiness. Please go back to join the others.”

Shrugging in defeat, he disappears into the conference chamber. Vida eyes her knowingly, trying to keep a perverse smile from gracing her lips.

“Stop it. He’ll probably have a heart attack when he hears the news. Why you take pleasure in his pain is beyond me.”

“He’s funny.”

“Your idea of funny concerns me.”

“Hmm.”

Finally they both enter the chamber, Mother taking the head ceremonial seat doused in fine silk at the low oblong table. An empty seat pillow near Qukel is now graced by Vida’s presence. Cross-legged on the voluptuous cushion, she breathes meditatively, wishing with all her might for Jocorop’s aid.

Help me husband in my time of need. Even I’m unsure on how to proceed.

They look at her intently for guidance. So she starts.

“It’s worse than I thought.”

Author's Note: Hey guys, long time since I've posted but here's the latest chapter for you. Or half chapter anyway. This segment is more of a story development kind more than anything else so I apologize if you find it a bit dull. It's extremely important to the plot however, so some "minor" character(s) mention in past will have bigger roles to play then initially presented. Keep an eye out, I've been leaving a trail of bread crumbs on various plot points. ;D Anyway, next chapter for sure will feature some integral interaction between David and Daniels. It will be extremely important and will be a lot more intriguing then the first part of chapter 20. I hope. lol XD Until next time! 

Chapter Text

Graphic content ahead: Viewer discretion is advised. 

The slice of skin was the first to go. Breastbone to sternum, it sang out in a silent screech, freshly sliced by masterful craftmanship. Cool press of the operating table cemented her to reality, however feeble in its attempt. Rivulets of blood wash upon the shores of blue pallid skin, foul pus following in its wake. An infection? No, only David’s machinations at work. Lips lifted perversely as he hummed his little tune, a eulogy that resonated hollowly within. Poking, prodding at every organ his greedy hands clamored over. A caress over the liver. Squeezing at her kidneys. Fingers entering her most private of places, that only her late husband had any right to. Every touch a violation. Screams that would never go heard. Tears leaked out, trailing down hollowed cheekbones.

Daniels tries to focus on anything above, the lights blurring her vision to a kaleidoscope of hazy energy. She recalled as a child how she focused futilely on the stickered ceiling of her dentist’s office as he studied her teeth. No bright colorful pictures to distract from this jarring reality. The light was all she had, dislodging her from David’s rough attempts to crack open her ribcage, reaching within for her pulsating heart. Death’s stench encompassed everything, overpowering the antiseptic cleaners that he utilized throughout his observations. Through all of his physical violations she couldn’t feel pain. The pressure was there for certain, but no pain accompanied it. It could be viewed as a blessing in disguise but all of it was curse to her. Tolerating his mistreatment, cruelty of a magnitude most wouldn’t, couldn’t fathom. Elizabeth. That woman knew better than anyone else. Pure damnation was heading her way, but she would not play the part of victim. She refused.

So as these nightly appointments became habit the past month as David furthered his experimentation, she began to research. Ripley. The husband and wife team was the lead she needed, head specialists of the synthetic department. Anthony Ripley was dead however, victim to the neutrino blast. His wife, Anna, was apparently in a coma from the compromised hypersleep chamber. That was bullshit as far as she was concerned, eyeing the neatly lined row of protomorph embryos next to the surgical instruments laid out. Each was labeled, abbreviated, black magic marker boldly spelling out its intended targets. Each time they met at the med bay on the Covenant, she tried to at least memorize one. SC-0098. That was Albert, a young boy in a similar state to Anna. SC-0499. Marcus, an elderly man with dementia missing for some time. No fuss was made over his disappearance, family members unconcerned. Apparently was common for the man to wander off, left to his own devices. They thought they would see him in time, even with all the potential dangers Origae-6 had to offer. Tongue flicking at her back molars, she feels the fleshy fat from whom she ate earlier today. Never were they going to see him again. David’s momentary pause from his workings has her glance over at the machine, a small, glassy test tube instantly recognized. Branson, Jacob.

“You fucking son of a bitch.”

Daniels can’t move, paralyzed from the special concocted anesthesia he gave her. Tears leak out instantaneously, she didn’t know what else to say. The last physical traces of her husband. David gives her a full, beatific smile, showing his excitement. His thumb brushes against the tube before twisting off the top, plopped next to his metallic workstation. Quickly, he pours its contents out into a long-needled, solution filled syringe, plunging it into embryo SC-0499. The creature starts to twitch, its little tail swishing back and forth. Observed carefully from his outstretched hand, he observes with a father’s pride, thumbing the petri dish his child resided in.

“Marcus proved to be a disappointment, but I won’t let my offspring go without a host. She will be unique, you see. And I need you for that to work.”

A small plunger of the black goo follows, injecting it into the fluid surrounding the creature. It’s absorbed near instantaneously, little fleshy tendrils shooting out to consume the rest of the mutagen. Screeching, it lifts its tiny head, instinctively reaching for its father. He smiles softly as he spreads Daniels’s legs apart, reaching for the long prongs on the side operating table. Plucked from its temporary home, the embryo squirms in the prong’s pinching grasp. David winks at her, peeling back the folds of her privates with one hand, flicking a thumb over her entrance.

“This might hurt a bit.”

Smoothly he inserts the prongs into her canal, the sudden pain managing to have her thrashing side to side, finally able to vocalize. 

God, what the fuck!?

Screams echo, turning into a foreign sound as dark blood sputters from Daniel’s mouth, coating teeth in a thick film of copper. Blood pours from inside her thighs, privates bruising purple black. The creature crawls comfortably inside her uterus, implanting itself to one side. David pushes back on the wheeled stool to admire his handiwork. His queen makes that difficult though, screams nails on a chalkboard. Didn’t she understand how momentous an occasion this was? To perfect years of research, splicing, studying DNA to the point of fruition? Such a shame she didn’t share his enthusiasm.

“Get it out! Get it out of me!

Daniels is at last able to move her whole body, landing on the porcelain floor with a resounding smack. Everything hurt. Slick, pink intestines slither their way from the abdominal cut in her belly, covered in bulbous black veins. Head tilted back to avoid the view; she couldn’t escape the gelatinous blood seeping towards her face. Bile flows forth, meeting the floor in an acidic hiss. An alarm goes off right then, Mother on autopilot as the computer repeats the warning.

“Warning, Sector 5 breached by unknown contaminant. Warning, Sector 5 breached by unknown contaminant.”

David lets out a smooth string of curses, as he tries to override Mother’s system. Silenced into submission, he berates the machine as a parent would their child.  Lips recede back to show sharp canines, nearly frothing at the mouth.

“You fool, you could’ve alerted security! If I hadn’t reserved this time specifically for my experiments and expressed privacy sans personnel, I would’ve been discovered! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry David-

The computer voices to him solely in the operating room, overbearingly loud in the small space.

“-protocol dictates that I inform any onboard of potential damage to colony supplies. My apologies.”

Wait, David? Why did she call him David, not Walter? She knows!?

Daniels head spins, a merry-go-round that won’t stop. She hears his footsteps approach, gently placing her back from her curled fetal position. Innards slip between his fingers as he methodically places them in, a lover’s touch that has her squeezing on incoming bile. Head lifted by him to prevent her from suffocating, it slimes its way down her ribbed chest, dribbling to where her heart lays. Shock is about to take over, tiny seizures wrecking throughout. A swift inject of pain is followed by sweet relief, a haze that has her drifting towards emptiness. Barely lucid, an accusatory finger is pointed at David, speech nearly indecipherable.

“Mother knows…why Mother knows?”

Author's note: New year, so here's a new chapter for everyone. Seeing as this story still get occasional views, I owe it to you all to continue this story. This probably isn't nearly sufficient enough material from my months long absence but I hope this satisfies you until the next chapter. It's only going to get darker development wise from here on out. Until next time! :)

Chapter Text

Tennessee nurses the whiskey in hand, the air-conditioned bar cooling the sweat marring his neck. He dabs at his forehead with the kerchief in his breast pocket, face a ruddy red from the never-ending stifling jungle heat. The bar had been improved on since his past visit, now housed in a decommissioned segment of the Covenant instead of a floppy tent. It still didn’t have that feel of a dive bar despite barely showing the basic functions a proper establishment should have. Walls were too sterile, the bright white lights overstimulating his senses. The seats were the same however, flimsy plastic bar stools perfectly paired with matching bar. Zach nods him a greeting as he sees to a customer, the small space quickly filling up with colonists looking for a release after a hard day’s work. Finding time alone was near impossible, his mind reiterating the conversation with Daniels from the previous night. None of it made sense, nothing did. Giving up pursuit on his friend’s wellbeing was a lot easier said than done. If his wife was alive, this would be the part where she would smack him upside the head, giving a stern lecture not to give up on people in their time of need. Especially those closest to you. She wasn’t of course, ashy remains spilled across paradise. That was over seven years ago.

Seven years ago. The idea that much time had passed was still entirely foreign to him. So much so that his stomach drops from its implications, the alcohol swirling sourly in his belly. His impromptu therapist looks over, brows raised as he spies the man wiping snot away, blood shot eyes redder than usual. Coming over, he leans forward on the bar, rocking slightly by his weight. Nonchalantly grabbing the joint resting in place around the leather strap decorating the pilot’s hat, he lights it carefully with one of the many tealights spread across the counter. Dense smoke comes out his mouth, causing his patron to snap out of thought as a coughing fit comes on. Swiping the smog from his face, Tennessee is surprised to see Zach, blinking several times in mild astonishment. He lifts his glass in greeting, gurgling out a morose chuckle.

“Hey man.”

“Hey. You look shittier than usual.”

“That I do.”

Glass thrown back, he shakes the last couple drops of his beverage down his throat, disgruntled to find it contents drained so quickly. The bartender takes his glass away, filling it up halfway. Set before him, he goes to grab it but is stop short. Zach firmly holds his wrist, shaking his head slightly.

“I cuttin you off after this. You’ve been spending way too much time on your ass here. Your drinkin quota is nearly up for the week. I’ve let it slide since you’re crew, but I got other people to serve.”

“I need this. Not a want, I need it damnit.”

“Drinking the pain ain’t gonna make it go away. I’m here if you need to talk.”

Perplexed, he shies away from his offer, embarrassed that his feelings are so visible to a busy man like himself.

“Don’t you’ve got other people to serve?”

Sighing in defeat, he waves him off as another patron yells for a refill.

“I’ve been where you at now, you know!” He yells over the noisy crowd, jostling him for attention. “You see like a decent guy and bullshittin with ya is easy. When you feel like talkin again, I’m here.”

Smile strained, he lifts his drink in toast before slurping it in one go.

“Thanks, but the shit that’s on my mind right now ain’t the kind I can talk to you about. Confidential bureaucratic type, you know.”

“Ha! I thought that was one of the reasons we all left Earth to begin with!”

“Definitely one of them. See ya around.”

Laughing to himself, he wobbles off his barstool, successfully walking the few steps across to the exit. The appearance of a certain cat weaving through the open door however causes him to trip over his own feet. Bottom landing on the floor with a resounding smack, he looks for the culprit and finds himself face to face with the mischievous animal.

“The hell? You followin me around again? Ugh, fuck off furball.”

The “furball” in questions hisses at the derogatory moniker, pouncing on his chest. Tennessee’s vision wavers as the lights swirl above him, the alcohol in his system most potent at that moment. While perched atop his bloated belly, the cat swipes close enough to his face, feeling the brush of air that follows. There are no angry scratches however, the rise of adrenaline is all he feels pressing at his stuttering heart. Arms planted on either side of him, he blinks several times to gather his bearings. Jonesy is still there, tail a metronome, swinging timely to an unheard tune. With his right hand, he shoos the animal in several lazy motions, hoping he got the idea. Pouncing off him, Jonesy jumps from the stool he was sitting on to the bar, weaving methodically through the tealights to get to the busy bartender. Several onlookers groan at his entrance, some trying to shove him away while others reach to pet silky fur. Zach finally notices him, glancing from his unexpected guest to his currently decommissioned patron sitting in a daze. Innocently meowing as if the events that had just transpired never happened, he rubs his head against his chest, purring contently. Surprised, he shakes his head in astonishment, failing to keep a straight face. Several refills thrown down the counter, he takes enough time between tasks to rub at Jonesy’s forehead. He finds his mouth quivering, laughter breaking free.

“Yo man, you okay? Looks like your little friend decided to pay you a visit.”

Tennessee grumbles as he pushes himself off the floor, all the blood pooling to his head, embarrassed.

“Peachy considering I just got my ass handed to me by a goddamn cat. Anybody else see that fiasco?”

The looks of several colonists trying to contain their laughter or failing to hide how mortified they feel for him answers his question. Shirt pulled down in a huff, he adjusts his hat, glaring at the sly tomcat. Satisfied that he got to see his new human friend, he meows farewell before leaping soundlessly to the laminated wood floor. Now positioned in front of his intended target, he yowls several times for the pilot to follow. The door opens as another person enters the premises, cat skittering between the gap to stop just outside the establishment, waiting. Humidity fogs the glass paneling as he exits to follow, the heat already making sweat weep from his pores. Once again, his forehead is covered in perspiration, kerchief taken out to blot at the unwanted moisture. The drops slide down the slope of his nose, some of it resting neatly in his beard. Overgrown mess that it was, he scratches irritably at it, feet shuffling at a painfully slow pace.

Warm, wet mud sloshes at his feet, a glob of it planting firmly on his cheek. Humidity has his hair sticking at odd ends, plastered to his brow. Jonesy waits impatiently ahead of him sitting, green eyes narrowed in contemplation as he observes. A small felt mouse sits at his feet, pawing at it with renewed interest. Gently taking it between his teeth, he wanders back to Tennessee, plopping it down unceremoniously. He stops momentarily to regain his balance as his attention is drawn to the toy settled right at his feet. Grumbling a series of curses as the sour taste of alcohol threatens to reach the back of his throat, he takes the mouse with a listless hand, dangling it with index and thumb. Glumly he takes it and throws it several feet ahead, Jonesy racing to catch it where it lands in a tepid puddle. Waving half-heartedly at the cat, he turns to go in the direction of his trailer, sleep calling his name. Jonesy has other plans though as he races to catch up with him, yowling loudly as he drops the mouse once more.

“Listen furball, I don’t have time to play games. Go on get, you here?”

Hand-fisted firmly with the toy in his grasp, he throws it as far as his inebriation would allow, which wasn’t very far at all. The cat looks up at him unimpressed, a loud meow an answer to his lackluster effort. Tennessee rolls his eyes, stomping a foot down in irritation. He throws his head back, defeated.

“I don’t feel like fucking playing with you. Stupid fucking cat.”

Jonesy doesn’t give up on the pretense of play, swiping at his leg. His heart gives way at the affectionate look upon the cat’s face, eyes wide enough to see his reflection in them. Eyes bloodshot, he feels a wave of sadness at his appearance, feeling lost all of a sudden. The fluorescent lights that stand tall around the encampment are blinding, rows of white trailers blurring together as his vision gives way. Slowly he drops to the ground, the mud from last night’s rain reaching into the crevices of his pants. Colonists about peer at him concerned but go about their evening, walking around him as he sits in their path. The cat proceeds to close the distance between them as he lands softly in Tennessee’s lap, stifling a yawn. He can’t help but smirk at the affection, hand firmly petting soft fur.

“You’re annoying as hell, but I guess I could use the company.

Perking up at his tone, Jonesy meows once before swiftly jumping off his lap, running a few feet ahead to catch his mouse. Toy clenched between his jaws; he glances over his shoulder to see if the drunken man follows. Almost as though in a trance as the tabby cat races ahead several feet, Tennessee rises shakily from the ground, putting his whole weight to standing up as straight as he could. A look of defeat crosses his face as he finds himself clumsily chasing after Jonesy, weaving between people staring at the man covered in muck. Feet picking up pace, he struggles to keep up, the animal an orange blur ahead. All he could focus on was his breathing, one wheezing exhale followed by the next. Time passes in a series of stuttering stop motion actions that have him feel like a Claymation model. He finds himself inching closer to the Covenant, the ship looming overhead at the front of the settlement. Light reflects harshly off its metal exterior, blinding him momentarily. Arm raised to ward off the intensity of the brightness, he sees the cat waiting patiently at the bottom ramp entrance where security detail patrols the area. One security guard gives a precautionary glance over the drunken pilot, noticing the smeared mud covering his bottom half. He grunts out a greeting in turn.

“Tee, my man! How you feelin?”

“Like shit Ramirez. So drunk that I can’t give you a good reason why I’m chasing around this goddamn furball.”

Ramirez laughs, bending down to pet Jonesy.

“Cause he’s a cute little fella, isn’t that right buddy?”

Purring contently, he turns several times around the security guard’s legs, one ear folded down while the other is perked up, listening to their conversation. He peers from him to Tennessee, eyes wide and bright. The felt mouse drips with saliva as he drops it at Ramirez’s feet, followed by an appreciative meow.

“You wanna play little man? Alirght, he we go!”

Posed like a baseball player, left leg slightly raised from the ground as his arms bend close together, he rockets the mouse towards the other man, flying high above his head. As it passes Jonesy launches himself forward, catapulting, paws kicking up dirt as he dashes ahead. The pilot gives an appreciative low whistle, hand raised to block the stadium lights as he watches the cat disappear out of site. Ramirez laughs, gun swinging around his shoulder strap. He fiddles with it momentarily before turning back towards the inebriated man, eyebrow quirked in question.

“Haven’t seen you around lately, busy these days?”

Tennessee’s gaze drops to the ground, a pink flush creeping up his neck.

“If you call getting shitfaced busy. Yeah, it has been a hell of a couple of weeks.”

“How so?”

Pausing to catch a breath, he wipes his face, nose scrunched up as he does so.

“Dani’s been sick, I’m worried about her.”

“The new captain? Yeah, she’s been busy taking over her husband’s job. Tough shit right there. Hell, I can totally relate.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

Ramirez reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out a picture of four wide smiling faces. Thumb brushing over the young boy’s toothy smile, a crestfallen look passes his face.

“Son is still in ICU. One of those comatose patients from the neutrino blast.”

“So, I’ve heard.”

“Been tough. Keep getting questions from my daughter when he’s gonna wake up. Wife has thrown herself into work, been pretty tight lipped lately. Feelin pretty lost myself.”

“I hear ya. My wife…”

Surprised to see his eyes welling with tears, he roughly rubs back handedly where one manages to escape, landing neatly in his beard. A morose chuckle escapes his lips, a ting of drool seeping through. Face a deep red, he coughs roughly.

“Ah, don’t mind me. I’m plastered man.”

“No worries. Heard about what happened to the crew. Wild that all you guys were wiped out, you and the captain notwithstanding.”

“Yeah...”

He trails off, paradise flashing before his eyes. Maggie burnt to a crisp, soul lost to the damn planet. Alcohol isn’t enough to numb the pain, more tears escaping. Blushing, he turns to leave when the sound of a klaxon alarm sobers him up instantaneously. Mother’s voice rings clear, the robotic voice eerily loud amongst the dense jungle brush.

“Warning, sector 5 breached by unknown contaminant. Warning, sector 5 breached by unknown contaminant.”

The hell!?

Both men look at each other with wild surprise. Ramirez turns to go up the ramp when Tennessee grabs him firmly by the shoulder. He glances over to see the other man shake his head, motioning for his partner to stay as well.

“I got this.”

“You sure? What about protocol?”

“Fuck protocol. I have a feeling I know what’s this about.”

Dani flashes to his mind as he stumbles up the ramp. Their conversation from the night before playing before him.

“Sit down.”

“I don’t need to sit down. I’m fine standing right here.”

Daniels crosses her arms defensively, leaning against the white lab table. The room felt suffocating at that moment, the space felt like it was looming over her with its tall sterile walls. She can’t help but see her reflection in the glass cabinets installed throughout the installation, her sunken features turning her stomach. Hesitantly, she reaches her fingers to delicately prob the bags under her eyes, skin thin like tissue paper. Self consciously she returns to crossing her arms, gaze darting from the glass’s reflection. Tennessee sits, swiveling around in his chair several times before stopping in front of her, the brim of his hat pulled back to get a better look at her.

“I insist. This might take a while.”

“No, it won’t. Joe’s waiting for me, I got responsibilities to take care of. Unlike you, you’ve been consistently drunk since we got here.”

He can’t help but hug his legs against the chair he sits backwards in, crossed over the wheels which squeak slightly. Arms resting on its back, he wipes at his nose with one arm, squinted eyes look at her with a newfound appreciation. He nods in favor, gaze focused on the floor now, noticing the scratches in its linoleum surface.

“You’re right. You got a shit ton on your plate right now and I’m getting pissed drunk trying to make the pain go away. That being said- “

He pauses, eyes focused on her now, emaciated form sending a shiver down his spine.

“-I’m concerned about you. You’ve been sick since before you got here. Avoiding me like I’m a bat out of hell. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

Daniels feels her breath go shallow, tasting the man she ate earlier that day. Tongue running over her sharpened canine teeth, she sighs deeply.

“Nothing is going on Tee. Jacob’s responsibilities are now mine on top of my own. I’m sorry we haven’t talked lately but I’m just overwhelmed.”

“Bullshit.”

Tennessee jumps out of his chair, crashing into a nearby cabinet. Fists balled up, he walks aggressively towards Daniels, standing mere inches from her face. A finger is shoved towards her, rage boiling over.

“You lying darlin. The weight loss, your fucking skin changing color. You’re sick and I’m not the only one who’s noticed. Joe has, Lisa. Hell, the whole terraforming crew has from what I heard. You’re hiding something. What the hell is going on with you!?”

Hand swatting at the accusatory finger, she takes several steps back, face scrunched up in a panic.

“Like I said, these responsibilities are overwhelming. I’m grieving the same as you. So I haven’t been taking care of my health like I should. What’s it to you?

“What’s it to me? What’s it to me!? Darlin we’re the only survivors out of the whole crew and you’ve been purposely avoiding me. We should be leaning on each other for support, instead you’re hanging out with Walter like your life depends on it. And Walter hasn’t been really acting like Walter for a while now.”

She quirks a brow at what he says, a whirlwind of panic settling in her stomach.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

An awkward silence takes hold, his intense gaze has her shuffling back further until she finds herself leaning against the wall of cabinets.

“You’re a mess Tee. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re talking about. How about you get sober before you talk to me again?”

“We’re talkin now! Not later, now!”

Tennessee grabs her shoulders, desperately shaking them. She tries to pry his hands off, but they stay firmly in place, his glassy eyes watering.

“Why are you lyin to me? You goddamn liar! Talk to me damn it!”

She finally manages to pry his fingers from her shoulder, mouth thin to a fine line.

“Enough. You’re drunk. Go home, I don’t have time for you.”

She turns around to leave through the automated door, pausing before existing.

“Tee, watch yourself. You don’t know what you’re asking from me.”

Standing dumbfounded, Daniels leaves the room with his mouth slightly agape. He snatches his hat and throws it straight to the floor, stomping on it as he does so. Yelling follows her as she exists the room.

“I wasn’t born yesterday! I know you’re hiding something; I’ll find out sooner than later!”

His legs rush down the Covenant’s halls, a blur of motion. Beads of sweat run down his back, trickling into folds of skin. Shoes squeak to a halt as he comes to a crossroads, frantically looking from left to right. Eyes look wildly at the speakers, the klaxon alarm blaring at full strength, nearly deafening. Barely any personnel reside in its corridors, a petite woman in a lab coat covering her ears at the end of the hallway to his right. Tennessee rushes towards her, breathes labored, lungs bursting for air. He stops abruptly in front of her, heaving as he bends over. Right arm grasping at his chest, his left-hand clasp at her shoulder, trying to keep from retching.

“Where is everybody!? I don’t see any personnel.”

The woman delicately pries his hand from her shoulder, directing a quizzical look as she adjusts her black rimmed glasses.

“It’s a false alarm. Just ran into Walter several minutes ago, said someone is fiddling with security?”

“That doesn’t answer my question!”

The woman edges away, clipboard board guarded closely to her chest.

“You don’t know? Walter requested exclusive access to sector 5, said Captain Daniels wanted privacy related to a confidential message from Weyland Yutani. I’m not even supposed to be here, I was running overtime today.

Tennessee shakes his head furiously, hands griping tightly at his waste.

“That makes no goddamn sense. Why would the message be confidential enough to the point of closing a whole sector!?”

Face scrunched up, she shrugs and turns to leave. Several hesitant steps are taken back, hand nervously fiddling with her glasses. He reaches to grab her, but she skitters away, shyly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Look- “

“Tennessee. The name is Tennessee.”

I’m not sure exactly what’s going on, but I believe what Walter said. For whatever reason, she wanted that sector completely blocked off. What’s it to you?”

“Lady, I’m crew and should be briefed if anything from Weyland Yutani comes through, even if I’m not supposed to know what’s in the message. She and I are the only crew remaining, we’re supposed to be working together.”

Glasses pushed up the brim of her nose, an eyeroll escapes as her lips blow up air her bangs.

“Well you reek and maybe she thinks you’re not up to the work. Who knows, none of my business. I’m a peon in the genetics lab; I don’t know anything more than what I told you.

She turns to leave, hesitantly running her eyes over the man.

“You need some sleep sir. If I were you, I’d forget about seeing her. Whole place is on lockdown until Walter fixes the alarm. I’m tired and this noise is giving me a headache. Have a good night.”

He reaches out to her as she desperately jogs down the hall and turns a corner, disappearing out of site. The klaxon alarm keeps blaring, causing a wave of nausea to hit him. Peering to the end of the left corridor, sectors 5’s sign is written in bold, the black letters standing out like a sore thumb. Forcing himself, he runs the remainder to the end of the hall, surprised to see the mechanized door wide open.

The hell? Thought she said the whole place is on lockdown.

A few hesitant steps are taken before he finds himself at the door’s entrance, taking several deep breaths. Down the hall he sees another door slightly cracked opened, flickering light casting shadows on the wall across from it. He forces himself to run the remainder of the long hall, stopping short outside the door. Cautiously, he pries it open, heart sinking to the bottom of his stomach. Daniels lies partially naked on the floor, a thin blue surgical sheet covering her bottom half. Blood pools next to her and trickles above, the operating table slicked with dark red rivulets. Rushing to her side, he kneels before her, whole body shaking. Delicately cradling her head in his rough callous hand, his words spill forth in a rush of panic.

“Darlin!? Darlin! Speak to me! What the fuck happened!?”

Daniels eyes slowly flutter open, wincing as she reaches to the abdominal cut hastily shut by surgical staples. Fingertips are soaked in blood, pooling under her nails as she observes the wicked cut across her stomach. She reaches a hesitant hand out to cup his cheek, feeling her whole body shaking. Her mouth wavers in a weak smile, trembling as tears streak down her face.

“Oh Tee, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be here right now.”

He shakes his head furiously, hair whipping about.

“No, no I’m exactly where I should be. Hey, can you get up? Let me help.”

Arm reaching under her body, he tries to life her up. A scream escapes her lips, landing back on the cold floor.

“I can’t…I can’t move. You gotta leave. Before he comes back. Hurry.”

“Who Walter? Fuck that. We’re getting you out of here.”

He tries to lift her once more, but she screeches animalistically, flailing her arms out to push him away. At a loss, he feels his own tears weeping red hot down his face.

“Why did he do this to you? Dani, there’s something wrong with Walter. You know it. Please, tell me what’s going on!”

“Nothing that you’re privy to.”

He whips his head around, surprised to see Walter towering in the doorway. A syringe drips with clear liquid at his side, an odd smile gracing his features.

“I’m sorry but Weland Yutani would not approve of you seeing this.”

Scrambling to his feet, he looks frantically from Daniels to Walter, hyperventilating.

“Get back! Stay the fuck away from me!”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

Closing the distance between them in several quick steps, Walter stabs with lightning precision towards Tennessee’s neck, but the man darts out of the way, stumbling backwards into a table littered with surgical tools. His right-hand scrambles over the tray until he finds a scalpel. Ham fisted, he points the scalpel directly at the synthetic’s face, violently shaking.

“Motherfucker I will end you!”

“No you won’t.”

With a wink, Walter knocks the impromptu weapon out of his hands. It lands with a clang, landing at Daniel’s side. She weakly reaches for the tool, discreetly hiding it at her side. With inhuman speed, he grabs Tennessee’s neck, lifting him off the ground. Feet flailing desperately at the air, he kicks at him with no avail. The syringe is brought to skin in one swift motion, breaking the barrier. Cool liquid rushes through his veins as the anesthesia kicks in. The pilot stumbles to the ground, landing in a heap next to Daniels’s side. She weekly embraces his hand, face a contortion of pain.

“I got you Tee.”

Without warning, the scalpel digs deep into Walter’s side, the fabric of his clothes ripping as it drags, a fine line of milky blood flooding the floor. He stumbles back in surprise, landing in his own bodily fluid. A serene smile is directed towards her, not quite reaching his eyes. His accent slips momentarily.

“You’re full of surprises my dear.”

Tennessee’s vision darts from one to the other, vision blurring to a point. Before darkness settles into consciousness, he spies two figures peering from the bottom of the operating window.

The fuck? What are those kids doing here?

Author’s note: Five years. Its been five years and I can’t believe people are still reading this story. First, off I apologize to all of my readers, you guys have been amazing to follow it all this time. My main reason to stopping this WIP is that I lost my passion for writing. Insecurity and lack of motivation played a huge role in work stoppage. It got to the point where writing felt like a chore more than anything else. Now I’m at a point in my life where I feel a bit aimless with my personal goals, writing seemed to be the answer to that restlessness. Now as you know, I can’t guarantee when this will next be updated but the goal is at least once a month. Leave a comment or a kudo, lets me know if people are still interested in reading. Special thanks to Pendaren, the latest person to leave reviews. Your words of encouragement mean the world after all these years, it shows that people come back even after a huge amount of time has passed. Thank you all again for sticking around, sincerely appreciate it. Incredibly humbled by it. Until next time! ;)