Another Kind: A Predator/Mimic Fanfiction Crossover Novel

Dr. Boyd shrugs into a combat suit and tests the microphone on the helmet’s headset. The radio in her hand chirps back and she jokingly holds it away from her. With a sly grin, she turns the volume down and offers the radio to Glotis.

“Glotis…Here, take this,” Teresa calls.

The yautja scientist gives Dr. Boyd a hard look. When she speaks, her words are tinged with condescension.

“We do not need your ooman toys. We have—” Glotis begins.

Teresa raises her opposite hand and continues to hold the walkie toward Glotis.

“I know. I know. You have suit to suit transmission via your helmets…Or masks…Or whatever you call them. Keep in mind…I don’t. Humor me. Please.”

Teresa holds the radio out until Glotis finally takes it. She sighs with relief.

“Thank you,” Teresa says with genuine sincerity. “We'll need to keep in constant communication once we get outside the lab. If anyone... Namely me...Gets separated…Which I hope does not happen. They...Or...I...Can still find the group. Just clip it on your tool belt. Better to have them and not need them…Than need them and not have them. Or so my mother used to say.”

Glotis looks for a place to clip her walkie, amongst the array of small implements and elaborate decorations on her belt. Teresa steps closer and holds out her hand.

“Here, let me! Please,” Dr. Boyd says.

Glotis hands the radio back to Teresa, and the doctor finds an empty space on Glotis’ belt which is perfect for the walkie. She looks pointedly at the yautja female's face and turns the volume knob on the radio.

“A little low tech, but these radios work over a large distance,” Teresa says with a smile. “Not to mention, they’re also a great distraction tool. Toss it one way and go the other way. Works every time.”

With an energetic wink, Dr. Boyd pats the yautja scientist on the forearm and heads for the nearest table. She grabs a small device and fastens it to her left wrist. A short burst of shrill beeps emanates from the device as Teresa moves her arm in a semi-circle.

“I’ve calibrated the sensitivity on this motion detector to account for the most minute air current fluctuations. I also input the biometric information needed for the detector to pretty much ignore all members of our team. Cuts down on the chance any Judases will be able to sneak up on us. And we won't keep jumping at our own shadows. Not a guarantee, but as close as I can get.”

Glotis comes to stand beside Dr. Boyd; she looks at the human with an odd expression.

“You almost seem less ooman wearing that armor…And that device,” Glotis says with her own version of a yautja smile.

Teresa cocks her head in amusement and frowns. She blinks rapidly as she considers the meaning behind Glotis' words.

“Uh…Thank you,” Teresa says. “I guess.”

“You almost seem like one of us,” Glotis further explains.

The yautja scientist turns and strolls to where her subordinate is waiting with her leg and elbow guards.

“Almost like one of them?” Teresa mutters to herself. “Now, there’s a thought.”

She smiles inwardly and bends to pick up her Orville rifle. As she does so, she catches sight of N-Vorl. The surly yautja is leaning casually against the opposite wall, hurling daggers of vitriol into her back with angry green eyes. More than likely, the intemperate warrior is furious about being left out of the hunt. Even more likely, he is incensed that Teresa has been permitted to go. Nevertheless, it is Elder Glandis’ wish.

Teresa suspects N-Vorl has been ordered to stay behind for her benefit. Otherwise, she might not make it back to the laboratory alive. No one ever accused Elder Glandis of being dumb. And if they did, Teresa is certain they never lived to tell the tale.

Winking for the second time, Teresa blows N-Vorl a sarcastic kiss. Shouldering her Orville rifle, Teresa joins the rest of the hunting party. She stifles a small laugh as they file out of the main entrance.

-

-

Glotis and P’taal are leading the search for new Judas specimens. The two fierce yautja are armed to the teeth; net guns and combisticks at the ready. It has been over an hour since the group left the lab, and not a single sign of a Judas insect.

Dr. Boyd walks a couple of meters in front of P’taal. Teresa’s arm is outstretched and she sweeps the motion detector in a slow arc. A shrill beep causes her to jump and she swears under her breath. Why did it have to be so damn loud?

Teresa pulls her arm back in close. Her eyes fall on the motion detector and she makes the military sign for “stop.”

“Wait,” she whispers. “There’s something in the corridor ahead. A few somethings. Most aren’t very big, and the signatures are really weak. Probably larval stage Judases…Certainly not more than a couple hours old, and a juvenile. A babysitter? Stay close. I’ll scout ahead. With all that bulky armor, you might make too much noise or stir up too many air currents. Just hang tight.”

Dr. Boyd inches forward, hoisting her Orville rifle onto her shoulder. She glances at her wrist motion detector and is satisfied that whatever is in that hallway is not yet aware of her presence. Once she is close enough to see what the detector is picking up, she wishes she had not.

What Teresa misread as a possible juvenile Judas, is actually a decaying yautja warrior. The body of the yautja hangs upside down, stuck to the wall and ceiling by multiple layers of Judas secretions. The warrior’s mouth hangs ajar and his eyes have been hollowed out. Several oothecaes are attached to his decaying abdomen. Most of the egg cases have already split and at least three small Judases feed hungrily on the warrior’s putrid flesh. The body writhes with the motion of the feeding insects.

Dr. Boyd is grateful for her helmet's face mask and the ship’s air scrubbers. Without either of these, Teresa is certain the smell would be unbearable. Teresa creeps closer, hoping to nab one of the smaller larvae. She speaks softly though the mic in her helmet.

“Glotis, tell your group to go full cloak. We’ve discovered a nest. I won’t say ‘the nest,’ because I suspect there are probably a lot more. The queen has to be somewhere nearby. I doubt she would have left this many young all alone. Especially this close to enemy territory. The one I killed the other day was not far from here. And it didn’t belong to this particular colony…Hive…Whatever. These Judases are different. Almost translucent. We should prepare for anything. They’ve got one of your kin here. Cocooned up. He’s dead. They’re…Feeding on him.”

Dr. Boyd steps even closer to the cocooned yautja. She raises a gloved hand and reaches for one of the larval Judases; her other hand steadying the rifle. A noise behind the dead yautja causes Teresa’s head to snap upward. Her eyes grow impossibly wide.

“What the hell?” Teresa gasps.

Behind the yautja, what Dr. Boyd had assumed was part of the wall, rears upward. The enormous Judas queen screeches and whirls on Teresa. The dead yautja, on the insect’s gargantuan back, swings with its rapid movements. Teresa is knocked to the floor by the whirling queen Judases’ wing case. The Judas larva drop to the metal floor and begin scrambling away.

Teresa is still sprawled on her back, but she lifts the Orville rifle—only half expecting to hit her target. The rifle blast slams into the Judas queen, shattering one of her forelegs. Glotis appears behind Teresa and puts an arm underneath each of the human scientist’s armpits—attempting to pull the woman out of harm’s way.

“No, Glotis—,” Teresa yells. But it is too late.

The Judas queen aims all of her fury at the new target. She lashes out with her remaining foreleg, knocking Glotis aside. Another Judas, which was hidden among detritus, floats into view. Its body is just as translucent as the larva Dr. Boyd witnessed. The translucent insect hovers over Glotis, who is struggling to right herself after slamming into the opposite wall. That is when P’taal rematerializes. He aims his net gun at the offending Judas and fires.

The Judas sentinel is slammed into the wall above Glotis, the mesh netting shrinking and cutting into the bug’s only slightly hardened carapace. The Judas struggles in the net, its coloration going from translucent to black to the usual roachy brown.

As much as Dr. Boyd would like to marvel at the sentinel’s chameleon-like abilities, she has her own problems to deal with. The Judas queen, now under attack by the remaining yautja team, bucks and thrashes. The queen’s wings begin to vibrate and her color shimmers. As Teresa watches, the queen seems to fade and disappear along various points of her body. Where yautja weapons meet insectile flesh, thick fluid oozes from the wounds. The queen screeches again and there is a scurrying sound of countless legs.

“Oh…Hell!” Teresa says aloud.

A second later, there is the sickeningly wet sound of hardened Judas foreleg meeting yautja flesh. Glotis’ lieutenant is lifted into the air and green blood sprays across the corridor. Where yautja blood stains the carapace of the murderous bug, the creature remains visible. Teresa aims her weapon in that direction and fires. She tries her best to miss the yautja, but knows he is already dead. The insect holding Glotis’ lieutenant is blown in two. The two halves go in different directions—the front half of the vile insect taking the lieutenant’s body with it. The mutated roach’s fluids go everywhere, making the floor hazardously slippery.

Dr. Boyd steps forward, aiming at another spot of suspected movement. She is afraid to fire before knowing whether the movement is friend or foe.

“Decloak! Tell them to uncloak, Glotis! I can’t risk hitting one of your team!” Teresa yells.

The yautja obey the order without it having to be relayed. Teresa breathes a sigh of relief when she realizes it was not a yautja she had prepared to cut down. She squeezes the trigger of her rifle. Roach carapace and a foreleg spiral into the air a few feet ahead of her. The Judas had approached that close so quickly.

Across the corridor, P’taal is helping Glotis to her feet. The yautja female is bleeding badly from a gash on the left side of her head. Teresa only gives them a passing glance before returning her gaze to the battle in front of her. Before they were seven—against how many Judases? Now, they are only six. Teresa pushes the thought of defeat from her mind. With an angry bellow, she opens fire on the Judas queen.