Another Kind: A Predator/Mimic Fanfiction Crossover Novel

76 hours until disturbance/54 hours til Evac

Dr. Boyd furiously scribbles notes on her tablet, as she studies the specimen in one of the holding tanks. N-Vorl stands a few feet away, arms crossed over his broad chest—A blank expression on his usually grumpy countenance.

Teresa leans forward and observes the Judas more closely. The juvenile, only a few hours old, climbs into a corner of the tank and deposits the oothecae attached to its rear end. Using a mixture of wet secretions from its mouth, and a viscous liquid from its anus, the insect secures the egg case to the wall. After which, it covers the egg sac with detritus from the tank.

Teresa uses her stylus to scribble more notes into her tablet notepad. Her original theory, that the Judases are born pregnant, has proven incorrect. But only slightly. Due to the aggressive gene therapy and growth accelerant regime, the original specimens were subjected to; their descendants’ reproductive cycles are much more enhanced. Each Judas female is capable of undergoing advanced parthenogenesis less than three hours after hatching. Going from larva, to pupa--or juvenile, to adult; in less than seven hours. Most never reach full maturity before producing their first offspring. Without the aid of a male, each of the surviving specimens in the lab is dutifully hatching a perfectly viable egg sac. With more surely to come.

Dr. Boyd turns to N-Vorl, only to discover he is nowhere in sight. One of the two yautja, who did not accompany Elder Glandis on his latest hunting exercise, is standing guard beside the tanks. The other hunter is either resting or performing duties elsewhere. Teresa decides to seek out N-Vorl herself.

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Dr. Boyd finds N-Vorl inside Laboratory Room Seven. He appears to be studying something on the floor, one knee bent and the other knee flush with the metal. Teresa’s curiosity is piqued and she enters the room. The door closes automatically behind her and Teresa jumps slightly. Suddenly, being alone in this room with the big yautja doesn’t seem like such a good idea. Sure, he has been less hostile recently. But he is still distrustful of her scientific methods. Dr. Boyd cautiously approaches N-Vorl—not wanting to appear aggressive. She calls his name when she is less than five feet from him.

“N-Vorl?” Teresa says in a soft whisper.

He does not respond. Teresa stops walking and studies the very still yautja. He isn’t looking at something on the floor. He is in a deep state of contemplation. The big yautja’s head is lowered almost level with his chest and his left hand is pressed palm down against the cold metal floor.

Teresa realizes her newest mistake and takes a backward step. N-Vorl’s eyes open just as she turns to leave. The rustling of his body armor freezes Dr. Boyd in place. She slowly turns to meet his steely gaze. If the yautja’s eyes were daggers; she’d be dead a thousand times over. The enormous yautja rises to his feet, anger evident in every move of his muscled body. Teresa takes another backward step.

“I…I had no idea you were,” Teresa stammers. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll leave.”

Teresa turns to hurry away—fearing N-Vorl’s wrath at her interference in his meditation. N-Vorl’s loud voice prevents her from taking another step.

“I know why you were in here!” N-Vorl hisses loudly. “When I found you kneeling on the floor. The same as I have done. I know what you found. And what you intend to do with it. What you have done with it.”

Teresa turns back to N-Vorl and attempts to gauge his current level of aggression. She closes the distance between them warily.

“I…N-Vorl. You don’t underst—”

“I do understand, Dr. Boyd!” N-Vorl says heatedly. “You obtained genetic material from my kin under false pretenses. And are planning to use it in your…Creations. I have my orders, Dr. Boyd—."

N-Vorl's voice trails off and his brow creases.

"If I were to expose you to Elder Glandis...He would have you killed,” N-Vorl says with a small degree of hesitation.

Dr. Boyd takes another few steps forward. Challenging the belligerent N-Vorl is the last thing she wishes to do. However, for the moment, he is the only thing standing between her and death by combistick or plasmacaster.

“Where's the harm in what I've done?” Teresa asks. “Is this not in keeping with your elder’s plan? Where’s the fun in hunting a creature that cannot truly hunt you back? Your elders should be happy. I am offering them the chance of a lifetime. Of many lifetimes."

N-Vorl turns away from Teresa and stares out of one of the viewports. He sighs heavily.

“This was not part of my orders,” N-Vorl replies in a gruff voice. “Some things are not done.”

Teresa boldly walks around N-Vorl, in order to face him.

“Answer me one question, N-Vorl,” she says in a hoarse whisper. “Why not? Is there some law against it? A decree? Or has it simply never been done before? Are you afraid that one day your creations will eventually outhunt you? Or is it something else?”

N-Vorl hesitates before answering. Teresa’s challenge puts fire into his veins. Who is this ooman to question many millennia of yautja tradition? Even so, her reasoning does have merit.

“There is no decree,” he responds.

“Okay. Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Teresa replies. “I knew none of you would willingly submit a sample for me to study. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I did what I felt was needed to help this project along. I apologize for deceiving you. Elder Glandis wanted a beast that would be worthy of the hunt. I’m trying to give him that. I know that you feel as if your skills are being wasted on this mission. I can see it in your eyes. Babysitting an ooman female is below your rank as a seasoned hunter. You long for a hunt which will demonstrate your true worth as a warrior…As a future elder.”

“You are wrong!” N-Vorl growls, his eyes burning with rage--and apprehension.

The doctor's words are much closer to the truth than N-Vorl would care to admit. There might have been a time when such a possibility was not so far-fetched. But no longer.

“It’s the truth and you know it!” Teresa retorts. “I know what you are.”

“I don’t understand,” N-Vorl replies. “What are you talking about?”

“I analyzed that aerosol you used on me. I even synthesized a batch for myself.” Dr. Boyd says.

She reaches inside her lab coat pocket and pulls out N-Vorl’s canister. She offers it to him.

“You can have this back," Teresa utters in what she hopes is a comforting voice.

N-Vorl takes the offered aerosol spray and shoots Teresa a stern glare.

“The spray…It doesn’t tell me a whole lot about us humans. But it sure tells me a helluva lot about you. Was it derived from your blood, N-Vorl? And by, ‘your blood’…I mean you specifically?” Teresa prods.

“Yes,” N-Vorl says. “It protects against…Episodes. Like the one you had in the lab. Sometimes, in certain situations…Females become feverish in their minds. Their behavior becomes erratic. My kind discovered that blood serums seem to help. Not always. But most of the time. There is no way of knowing which females will be affected until the onset of symptoms. Every male yautja carries a blood serum, if that is their wish. Some males prefer to forego it. It was not my intention to harm you.”

“But you didn’t harm me!” Teresa says, unable to hide her excitement. “Whatever you do…You don’t do it consciously. The amount of pheromones you’re pumping out is staggering. If you will forgive the pun. I need an injection just to be around you. I’m thinking this gene for excessive pheromone production is why the Judases were aware of your party’s initial presence. How many of the murdered yautja were in the same room as you when they were killed?”

N-Vorl growls at the implication that he is responsible for his fellow hunters’ deaths. He grips Teresa’s forearm in a large hand and draws her close. Fear causes Teresa’s heart to almost leap into her throat but she wills it away.

“You go too far, ooman!” N-Vorl hisses angrily.

Teresa stares into his eyes. The sadness she sees reflected there overwhelms the anger he outwardly shows.

“You don’t understand…” she whispers. “I’m not blaming you. I’m trying to understand what happened. That’s what scientists do. We look at every problem from every angle. There may be another explanation, but I needed to ask.”

N-Vorl releases Dr. Boyd’s arm and takes a step backward.

“I was in the same room with all but one of them,” N-Vorl says.

The admission seems to add years to his appearance. Teresa reaches up and gently touches N-Vorl’s cheek, turning his head so that he is looking at her. The yautja regards her through half-lidded eyes.

“I believe you are unique,” Dr. Boyd says. “What you have could be a great gift. Don’t you see? Only certain males of your species carry the gene. If my suspicion is correct, Elder Glandis carries it as well. As do the other elders of your kind. It’s what makes you distinctive from other yautja. Its why others are drawn to you. Why they follow the elders seemingly without question. And why so many of the other elders are...Adversarial in nature. You're aware of each other's...Gift. It’s an evolutionary tool for creating order out of chaos. However, in this situation, it presents us with another problem. Most of the Judases are female. They would be very sensitive to your pheromones. In this case, that’s a bad thing.”

“Then, I am a liability,” N-Vorl says.

“No. You are the answer to so many questions,” Teresa says.

Teresa drops her hand from N-Vorl’s cheek to his right bicep. Her voice takes on a silky tone as she runs her hand down his sinewy arm.

“I’ll need an unadulterated sample of your blood," Dr. Boyd says. "With some of your DNA, I can develop a spray that will suppress your pheromones for a short period of time. Say…Long enough to complete a decent hunt. And there are so many more applications we can explore. Genes are such wonderful things.”

N-Vorl seems to consider her offer. His brow creases and he remains silent, many thoughts racing through his mind. He is unprepared for Teresa’s arms encircling his waist. He looks down into her ooman face, a strange mix of emotions clouding his mind.

“For instance,” Teresa says, her voice soft and almost hypnotic. “We could create the ultimate prey beast. Elder Glandis says he wants monsters. We can give him monsters. Monsters unlike anything you have ever hunted before. A creature with the cunning and stealth of a yautja. But the fragility and blind arrogance of a human. It would have all of your strengths—tempered by our most…Ooman weaknesses. Maybe even a little Judas to add another layer of danger. A formidable quarry.”

Teresa runs a hand up N-Vorl’s back, while keeping her gaze fixed on his greenish eyes.

“What could be more worthy of a hunt?” Teresa says with a thin smile.

N-Vorl is prepared to shove Dr. Boyd away, but she uses both hands to cup his face. Imitating the manner in which she witnessed P’taal woo his intended; Dr. Boyd lowers N-Vorl’s face and brushes his cheek with her own. N-Vorl’s jaw clenches and she can feel his mandibles press against her flesh.

After a brief moment of indecision, Teresa separates from N-Vorl and calculatedly kisses his mouth—being extra careful to avoid slicing herself on his exposed teeth. The gesture requires a large degree of precision. She releases N-Vorl’s face and rubs her cheek against his a second time. She exhales deeply to further drive her point home.

"You all came here to create monsters," Teresa says in a husky whisper. "Well, you came to the right place. Monsters...Is what I do. I was sent by my company to create super-soldiers. I have every intention of doing just that. The only difference...I'll be doing it for Elder Glandis. Instead of a greedy corporation. But mostly, I'll be doing it for myself. However, I want something too. I want to carry your childling, N-Vorl."

The blood in N-Vorl's veins turns to ice. Is this ooman crazy? A hybrid being? Such a thing has never been done. Well, maybe not for millennia. A long time, anyway. Nevertheless, the idea does intrigue him. He gazes down at Teresa's face, studying her—wanting her.

"Why do you wish to carry my childling?" N-Vorl inquires. "What purpose could that serve?"

"To prove...It can be done," Teresa replies. "I'm a scientist. That's our main purpose in life. The childling will serve as a control group. A hybrid against which all others must be compared. A testament to our dedication and devotion to the project."

N-Vorl is not wholly convinced. There is a look in the doctor's eye which does not match the words leaving her lips.

"Do you have any idea how painful it is to birth a childling at full gestation?" N-Vorl chastises Dr. Boyd. "When a female is ready to release her offspring...Sometimes, her yells can be heard a long distance off."

Dr. Boyd rolls her eyes and scrunches up her face. She wraps one of her arms around his waist a second time, pressing her other hand against his chest.

"Birth isn't exactly easy for us oomans either," Teresa retorts. "Women don't die in childbirth as often as they once did. Thanks to some great advances in our care procedures. I'm not ignorant of the dangers. Even so, I'm not worried. We have a med pod."

The ooman scientist wears an expression which tells N-Vorl there is a lot more going on in her head than what she is willing to admit. Her closeness, and her scent, begins to overwhelm him and he makes a final decision.

Teresa’s eyes widen as N-Vorl lowers his mouth to her throat. There is a sharp pain as he bites the flesh of her neck. Not enough to draw more than a few drops of blood. Thoughts race through Teresa’s mind and she can’t help but wonder if the vampires of old did not have a kernel of truth to them. If age-old vampire stories did not tell the tale of humans who were maybe just a little bit more. N-Vorl withdraws and his eyes are riveted to Dr. Boyd’s.

Teresa realizes she has crossed the threshold into a ritual of sorts. One she will have to see through. Steeling herself, she imitates N-Vorl’s previous action. Her blunt teeth clamp down onto his flesh, but do absolutely no physical damage. N-Vorl draws back and meets her gaze. At this point, Teresa is sure she has done the right thing.

N-Vorl lowers his mouth to her throat again. A warm wetness spreads over the area where his teeth pierced her flesh, and Teresa realizes that he is licking the blood found there. Teresa remains completely still until he is done.

Drawing away, N-Vorl ejects his wrist blades. Dr. Boyd considers fleeing, believing the enormous warrior has turned murderous. Teresa's eyes dart in the direction she intends to go, and N-Vorl anticipates her. He uses his unbladed arm to grab her; anchoring Teresa to the spot. Pressing the tips of his wrist blades to the flesh of his throat, N-Vorl draws them downward with only slight pressure. Two small gashes appear.

Teresa watches as green blood pools around the two wounds on N-Vorl’s neck. The big yautja nods silently, his eyes fixed on Teresa’s face. She stares at the blood for a moment, her mouth growing dry. Maybe this is going a little too far. Can she see this affair all the way through? Does she dare?

Swallowing hard, and bracing herself, Dr. Boyd stands on tiptoe. N-Vorl tilts his head and lowers himself further. Teresa brings her mouth over the seeping wounds on N-Vorl’s neck. The taste of his blood is more metallic than she had expected, with a hint of something bordering on sweet. A wooziness seizes Dr. Boyd and her head starts to swim.

“Oh no,” she thinks to herself. “Not again.”

Taking N-Vorl’s blood directly into her system is counteracting the injection she gave herself less than an hour before. After what seems like only a moment, Teresa’s legs grow weak and she goes slightly limp. N-Vorl lifts her face, by placing a hand under her chin. He peers into her eyes.

“Do you want me to go on?” the warrior says in a husky voice.

Teresa continues to stare into N-Vorl’s green eyes. Eyes with flecks of brown. Eyes filled curiously with concern and something close to anxiety. Maybe even fear. Teresa caresses one side of N-Vorl's face with a shaking hand. She manages a faint whisper.

“I would be honored to carry the childling of a future elder,” Teresa whispers.

"I am not an elder," N-Vorl reiterates in a defeated tone.

"That's what you keep saying," Teresa responds.

N-Vorl envelopes Teresa in his muscular arms, and she collapses against his large chest. He gently strokes the hair of her head.

“We must hurry,” N-Vorl says in a whisper. “Elder Glandis, and his hunting party, will be back soon.”

Teresa strokes the small of N-Vorl’s back with a solitary hand. Her body shivers at the memory of what is yet to come. Doubt slowly entering the tiniest corner of her mind.

“I’m not afraid, N-Vorl,” she whispers. “You forget…I’ve seen it all before.”

N-Vorl is not so sure. He lowers his hands to the small of Dr. Boyd’s back, positioning his thumbs so that they rest just above her hips. His eyes narrow, as he stares over her fragile ooman shoulder. He secretly hopes that the plan they have hatched does not prove to be a mistake.

Teresa issues another impassioned sigh, and N-Vorl’s mind is made up. He lifts Dr. Boyd into his arms with very little effort. She drapes her arms over his neck, staring into eyes of unearthly green. There is a hint of something new and as yet unexplored in those green orbs. The yautja warrior’s eyes search Teresa’s face, as if memorizing what he sees there.

“N-Vorl? What are you thinking?” Teresa queries. His silent examination is more than a little troubling.

N-Vorl strides across the room. He carefully deposits Teresa in nearly the same spot where P’taal and Glotis performed their forbidden act. With a smile larger than Teresa would have ever believed him capable of, N-Vorl strokes the side of her face with a clawed hand.

“Let us create great things together,” N-Vorl pronounces, giving utterance to the extent of his mind’s machinations.

He runs his hand down the flesh of Teresa’s neck, watching as her color deepens and her breathing accelerates. Using his other hand, N-Vorl tilts her head up and back. He kisses her gently. His mandibles close around Teresa’s cheeks and jaw; bringing her face into closer contact. He is able to taste, in her saliva, the sweetness of the ooman desserts she often sneaks when she believes no one is watching.

This ooman female intrigues him, with her attempts at tiny deceptions. Who would care if she samples the food of her kin? Yet, her greatest deceptions, she puts little effort into hiding.

N-Vorl drops his hand from Teresa’s neck and uses it to slide up the bottom of her blouse. Teresa’s eyes open and she regards him questioningly. N-Vorl pulls her close so that her head rests against his shoulder.

“As I said before…We must hurry,” N-Vorl insists. He wants so desperately to proceed, but also wishes to give Teresa every opportunity to back out. Should she want one.

“I know,” Teresa replies.

Taking a deep breath, N-Vorl chitters with nervous energy. He tenderly strokes Dr. Boyd’s hair. No more time for delays.