Reaching the designated grate, and crawling into the ducting, Dr. Boyd and Harold are able to move forward at a faster pace. They are no longer hindered by a maze of Judas secretions and clingy organic debris. In a spot where there is a bit more room, Harold squeezes past Teresa, in order to get in front. In his haste, one hand brushes her backside. Harold glances at Dr. Boyd apologetically.

“I promise that was an accident,” Harold insists.

Teresa nods, mischief in her eyes, but doesn’t say a single word. Harold turns back to the front and crawls even faster. Teresa hurries along behind him.

At the end of a junction, Harold stops to look through another grate. He studies the layout of the room below and gives an affirmative nod of his head.

“This is it. There’s a door about ten feet that way,” Harold says and points a finger to the right. “It leads to the outside. I hope I have the correct access keys. If not, I may have to find a way to disable the keypad or blow the door. And I don’t know if we have that kind of time. Doesn’t seem to be any real Judas activity on this level, but I’m not taking any chances.”

Plopping down on his butt, Harold pulls back a large foot and kicks the grating. After three kicks, the grate comes detached and falls to the floor below. The noise causes both Teresa and Harold to flinch; but it can’t be helped.

“I’ll go first,” Harold says.

He reclines his head back and grins up into Teresa’s face. Dr. Boyd throws decorum out the window and wraps Harold in a bear hug. Teresa’s body feels warm against his back, and he gently pats her forearm.

“Harold, be careful,” Teresa whispers. “We don’t know what’s out there.”

Harold leans up and kisses Teresa’s cheek. He locks eyes with her as he draws away.

“I know. That’s why I’m going first,” Harold says in a soft voice.

Without another word, Harold squirms so that he is on his belly and squeezes out of the entrance to the duct. He drops to the floor, landing with the poise of a cat. Spinning around, Harold repositions the Orville rifle against his shoulder and takes a few steps. He barely looks back when he hears Teresa land on the floor behind him. Only enough to be sure it is Dr. Boyd.

Teresa swiftly comes up beside him, her rifle already trained on their destination. Harold slowly sweeps his weapon back and forth. Teresa’s foot comes down on something wet and slippery. Bending to examine what is at her feet, Teresa lets out a short gasp. She opens Harold’s knife and cuts free the opaque oothecae cradled inside the ribcage of what obviously used to be a female colonial marine. The embryo inside the egg case is quite visible, and is definitely of the newest Judas variety.

Harold looks around the hangar, keeping an eye out for danger. He does not share Dr. Boyd’s interest in the encased embryo. In fact, he wants nothing more than to nuke the creepy bastards from orbit.

“Teresa…We need to go!” Harold says. His voice rises with his growing anxiety.

“Sure. In a minute,” Teresa says. She moves to the nearest shelf and removes an old-fashioned leather briefcase. A name stenciled on the side reads: Gediman. Teresa crooks an eyebrow and opens the case.

“Teresa…Why are you taking that? We don’t need it! We need to get out of here?” Harold pleads.

“This embryo…Is the only connection between us and what we’ve done here,” Teresa says.

In one swift movement, she punctures the side of the oothecae. Thick liquid squishes out of the hole as she draws back the knife. She pushes downward on the egg sac, accelerating the removal of the nutrient-rich fluid nourishing the growing insect inside.

“Don’t worry…” Teresa says. “It doesn’t need to be alive.”

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Staunching the hole with a random piece of paper, Dr. Boyd shoves the egg sac into the empty briefcase and securely closes it. She hefts the Orville rifle up onto her shoulder and then grips the handle of the briefcase with her opposite hand. She practices pulling the trigger one handed. She wants to be sure she'll be able to aid Harold in the extreme likelihood of a firefight. The flamethrower is still strapped to her back, but she doubts it will do any good at this point.

“Now, we can go!” She says with a tight smile.

Without warning, an adult Judas emits a shrill shriek and shoots out of the darkness. Harold grabs Teresa and pulls her down and out of the way. He aims his Orville rifle at the approaching insect. His weapon fires at the same instant that an energy burst rips through the air of the transport hangar. Both shots hit home and the Judas is practically incinerated. Harold grabs Teresa’s free hand and yanks her toward the hangar exit.

“Go…Run!” Harold yells.

Both colleagues take off at full speed. Teresa glances back over her left shoulder and catches a glimpse of an eerie shimmer in the dim light of the transport hangar. She returns her eyes to the front in time to see a bright blast come seemingly out of nowhere. She shoves Harold to the left and he careens into the nearby wall. The blast barely misses him.

Another loud screech and a Judas bug comes flying in the humans’ direction. However, it never makes impact with either of them. Instead, it slams into an as yet unseen foe—green blood spurting into the air. Some of the green fluid splatters Teresa’s front, as well as her face. She wipes at the fluid with a hand but keeps running—her breath coming in ragged gasps.

They reach the exit to the hangar and Harold inputs his code. Teresa grips her Orville rifle, leveling it to about waist high. No more shimmers of light, no more energy bursts. Are they safe?

“Thank you…Harold Bashir. Access code accepted,” the computer voice says.

Harold yanks the door open and pulls Teresa out of the ship with him. They carefully make their way out of the surrounding wreckage. Another loud screech and a bright light sears the air. Harold’s right shoulder erupts with pain and he hollers out. Teresa drops her rifle and moves to aid him. The technician’s shoulder is a bloody mess, muscle and bone jutting from a massive wound.

“Harold, put your arm around my shoulder. Come on!” Teresa yells.

Harold complies and they continue climbing down and away from the enormous wrecked ship. Their descent is slowed by the angle of the downed ship, and the amount of debris obstructing their path. Finally, they reach the ground. Teresa refuses to let go of Harold and pulls him along. Above them, inside the ship, it sounds like WWIII all over again. Screeches of insects, miniature explosions, and the loud impact of several energy bursts shatter the silence of the air.

“Harold! Go, go, go!” Dr. Boyd yells over the cacophony of noise all around them. Not bothering to give the young technician a chance to argue, Teresa yanks on his uninjured forearm and drags him towards the clump of trees to their far right. The flamethrower bumps uselessly against her back and she stops long enough to toss it away.

A moment later, there is a world-shattering boom and a wall of heat sends the two humans flying into the air. Teresa maintains her grip on Harold’s arm as they roll into a small indention in the dirt. As soon as the air clears, Teresa climbs unsteadily to her feet. Harold’s weight is uncharacteristically light and she turns to see what is wrong.

Dr. Boyd releases Harold’s arm and stares down at the stump of a corpse left lying on the ground. What little food she has in her stomach slowly rises, and she vomits violently. Retching a second time, Teresa bends at the knees and presses a hand to the left side of her abdomen.

With precious little time, Teresa struggles to regain some modicum of composure and stand erect. She is just turning to run when another explosion sends her reeling backward. Dirt and scorched foliage spray into the air, and Teresa hits the ground hard. She knows she is lucky to even be alive. They missed her by a hair. Another inch and the blast would have killed her just as surely as the other blast had killed Harold.

A disturbing thought creeps into Teresa’s mind. What if their goal isn’t to kill her? What if they suspect what she is carrying? And just who the hell are they?!? Operatives from Weyland Industries? Another rival company? Privateers? Would anyone be so stupid as to physically attack another sovereign entities' starships? Is this the beginning of a real space war?

Looking down at the briefcase clutched tightly in her hand, Teresa decides it is best to take her chances and run. Without her weapons, she's a sitting duck. No way to defend herself. She scrambles out of the makeshift ditch and continues in the direction of the trees. Safety. Maybe. Only about another twenty yards.

Her progress is halted when an arm materializes seemingly out of nowhere and clotheslines her. Teresa falls backward onto the ground, clutching at her aching throat. Her eyes widen as a vaguely humanoid outline appears in the air in front of her. Crawling backward, Teresa maintains her hold on the leather briefcase, and focuses on the ditch directly behind her.

“What the…?” Teresa mutters in disbelief. “What in the hell?”

The words freeze on Teresa’s lips as a trio of red dots appears on the right side of her chest. She follows the laser points to their source and her mouth drops open. Tears well at the corners of her eyes.

“Oh, god…” Teresa cries. And then, the world goes black.