Outside of the ship

Dark, angry storm clouds blanket the sky. The approaching geothermic disturbance is already having an effect on the localized weather.

A small Judas scrambles near the California's open hangar door. The young insect climbs to the ground and scrambles over to where another of its kind is tearing apart some manner of food. The grisly meal includes a decaying human torso, draped in what remains of a tattered blue jumpsuit.

Several insects hover nearby, waiting for the largest of them to finish eating. Half of the insect group loses patience and scurries back in the direction of the ship. Another, more adventurous insect, heads for the treeline yards away--in search of other things to devour. More of the departing insect's companions take notice and follow behind it.

After another minute, only the small latecomer hovers menacingly over the rotting human remains. Alone with its appetizer of putrefaction, the young Judas rips free a giant chunk of the corpse's left thigh.

-

-

For the second time, N-Vorl watches Teresa shower without fear of reprimand or reprisal. His eyes are narrowed as he gazes in her direction. The ooman chemicals she calls ‘soap’ and ‘shampoo’ fill the room with an aroma which nearly masks her natural scent. Yautja need no such chemicals.

Once Teresa is finished showering, she turns and gives N-Vorl an awkward smile. Water runs down her hair and drips onto her face. She reaches out to him with one hand, while feigning modesty by placing her other arm across her chest.

“Would you be so kind as to hand me my towel?” Teresa says with a coy smirk.

N-Vorl retrieves the towel from the rack and approaches Dr. Boyd. However, rather than hand her the towel; he drapes it over one wrist and reaches for his implement belt. He opens a small compartment and removes a glasslike canister containing a reddish liquid. Teresa looks down at N-Vorl's hand and then returns her gaze to his face.

“What’s that?” Teresa inquires, unable to deny a wary fluttering in her chest.

N-Vorl steps closer and takes Teresa’s hand. He places the tiny glass canister on her palm and closes her fingers around it.

“It is elixir made from the flowers of a chruksh,” N-Vorl states candidly. “It is reserved for only the elders and those of the higher caste. It helps us to remain focused and strong. My father grows many such trees. He does not miss a little…From time to time.”

Teresa completely forgets the towel. She turns the glass container of liquid over in her hand. When she makes eye contact with N-Vorl again, she is halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“So…I was right?!?” Teresa exclaims, her suspicions finally confirmed. “And you tried to convince me that you are not an elder!”

“I am not an elder!” N-Vorl replies. “Elder Glandis is my father’s brother. My father controls one of many habitats where the chruksh is cultivated. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?!?” Dr. Boyd almost yells before catching herself. “This explains a lot. For instance...I can’t envision P’taal getting away with half of the insubordination which Elder Glandis allows you to get away with. Questioning his orders and his authority. Ha. Elder Glandis would be eating P’taal’s liver for dinner. Who—or what—your father is…Doesn’t matter. You have the gene. I’m willing to bet…Your father doesn’t. Ha."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Teresa twists her mouth into a teasing smirk and turns the tiny canister in her hand.

"No wonder you’re such an asshole! You’re an army brat!”

N-Vorl is unclear on what either an asshole or an army brat are. However, Teresa’s tone of voice tells him that neither is a particularly good thing. He takes a mock menacing step in Dr. Boyd's direction and places a hand under her chin. Lifting Teresa's face, he lowers his own face to within a few inches. Her lips part in expectation, but N-Vorl hovers playfully over her. Teresa glares at him with equal playfulness.

“I wish you would not look at me in that way!” N-Vorl says. His eyes narrow to small slits.

“In what way?!” Teresa says, feigning ignorance.

“In the way that a hungry ghkivu observes its prey,” N-Vorl explains.

Dr. Boyd toys with the mesh on N-Vorl’s right bicep. She offers him another coy smile.

“You’re going to have to start talking like we’re from the same solar system. I have no idea what a ghkivu is!” Teresa says.

Dr. Boyd’s eyes are locked on N-Vorl’s face and the smile remains on her lips. N-Vorl returns her smile, snaking an arm around her waist.

“A ghkivu is a large beast with many eyes and tentacles,” N-Vorl says. “It seeks out its prey in dark crevices underwater. Ghkivu use their many eyes to see where other beasts cannot.

“Ah. Then, I guess I’d better do as you say!” Teresa teasingly scoffs. “I don’t want to scare you!”

N-Vorl closes the distance between their faces even more. His mouth less than two inches from Teresa’s.

“Do not stop!" N-Vorl says. "It makes me hungry as well!”

“Oh, dear!” Teresa says. “That could be a problem. I like my liver right where it’s at.”

Enfolding N-Vorl’s neck; Teresa brings their mouths into full contact. N-Vorl is reluctant to pull away as Teresa gently pushes at his chest.

“I have to get dressed,” Teresa says. “I have a report to finish and they’ll be back any time now.”

“Yes,” N-Vorl responds. He releases Teresa and backs away a couple of steps.

“You’re more than welcome to stay,” Teresa says. She uses her teeth to pull another circular band off of her wrist and place it around her hair. “If anyone asks…You can say you were simply doing your job.”

Teresa performs another slow, one-eyed blink. N-Vorl has tried to perform the same action; with zero success. He does not try again. Instead, he leans against the wall. As Teresa dresses, she makes a melodious sound that is without words. N-Vorl listens intently. While the doctor is still very saddened by all that has happened. For now, she is also content.

-

-

The hunting party returns over an hour later. Three new yautja warriors are now accompanying them—sent down from the mothership to ensure Elder Glandis’ safe return. Two of the previous guards were killed in this latest battle. However, the yautja’s spirits are high.

The air is filled with jubilation as Judas carapaces are polished to a spit-shine and crests are punched with holes—to be placed triumphantly on the mesh suits of battle-seasoned warriors. Teresa watches this with fascination and weariness. The two fallen yaujta seem to have already been forgotten. Or maybe, this is how the yautja cope. By pretending it never happened, while reveling over the bodies of those beasts responsible. A kind of silent vengeance.

Dr. Boyd stands to go into the lounge. The sights and sounds of revelry overloading her senses. These recent deaths have rattled her false security. A strong coffee is just what she needs. Glotis intercepts Teresa as she heads into the lounge.

“Doctor?” Glotis says. “There is something I think you should know.”

Teresa turns to face the yaujta scientist and her heart nearly leaps out of her chest. In Glotis’ right hand, she holds the head of a Judas queen—suspended in a mesh net.

“We killed another queen. I thought you might want her head for a more thorough study of—,” Glotis intones.

Dr. Boyd lets out a sharp gasp and backs away. Her face contorts in both terror and disgust.

“Why would you bring that to me?!” Teresa whispers hoarsely. “Keep that away from me! I don’t want it!”

Teresa backs quickly away from Glotis. When she is a safe distance from the yautja female, and her haunting gift, Dr. Boyd turns and speed walks into the lounge. The image of Harold’s distorted face is forever seared into her brain.

Glotis swivels to face Elder Glandis, whose mandibles are clicking furiously. N-Vorl‘s mind does battle with itself. He wants to run to Teresa. To comfort her. But he doesn’t dare. Not yet.