Teresa wakes up in her usual cell. Sitting up on the bed, she cradles her head in both hands. She notices a weird abrasion on her left wrist and studies it. While doing so, she notices a similar abrasion on the other wrist as well. It almost appears as if she has been restrained at some point. By straps or a harness.


    Teresa’s eyes travel the entire room looking for signs of a struggle. That dream. What had it meant? She has never had such a dream before. So vivid. So vile. What did they do to her?


    Keeping silent, Teresa decides to act as if she suspects nothing. She stretches both arms above her head and then lays back on the mattress. Crossing one leg over the other, she stares up at the ceiling. They will be sending breakfast down soon.


    -


    -


    Brian Bashir arrives with his serving cart, and her food tray, right on schedule. The orderly peeks around her door, the same as he does every time he brings her meals.


    “Hi, Dr. Boyd,” he chimes.


    This time, there is an enthusiastic wave to go with the salutation. Teresa comes to the edge of the bed and smiles at the young orderly.


    “Hello, Brian,” Teresa says, hiding the emotion welling up inside. “What’d you bring me today?”


    Brian approaches the table with the energy of a small child at a theme park. So grateful is he to have someone to converse with, he does not notice the odd way that Teresa observes his every move. Setting the tray down, Brian removes her lunch platter and places it on the table—to the right of the metal tray. He opens the lid and begins pointing out what Teresa has to eat.


    “There’s toast…Sliced pineapples, sausage, and—,” Brian begins.


    He never gets to finish his statement. In one deft move, Teresa grabs the metal tray and slams the long edge into the young orderly’s neck. Brian’s eyes bulge and he clutches at his throat. He chokes as blood from his crushed larynx floods his airway. Teresa knows her time is short. Yanking the sheets and blankets from the bed, she stands atop them. The material appears to be of a synthetic fiber similar to nylon. She can only hope that is enough insulation for the shock to come.


    Next, she pulls Brian to her, making sure that his feet are on the pile of linens as well. As expected the lights dim slightly and there is a hum of electricity. But no enormous jolt of energy.


    In the next moment, the door to her cell is unlocked. Three guards barge into the cell. Each guard, in robotic fashion, levels their weapon at Brian and Teresa. Teresa presses Brian tighter to her front, one arm around his neck. Blood seeps from his mouth and drips over her forearm.


    “Better get a doctor in here,” Teresa barks. “Your lackey has a crushed larynx! If you don’t want him to choke on his own five liters of blood…You better get someone in here. Or, let us out! Your choice. Him for my son!”


    One of the guards calmly raises his weapon and fires. A searing pain rips through Teresa’s left shoulder and she is thrown back by the force of the bullet. Brian’s chest and back are a bloody mess—where the bullet entered, exited, and slammed into Teresa. Brian’s dead body falls heavily to the floor and Teresa loses sight of him. She stares up at the ceiling in shock.


    “Oh, hell. They actually shot me,” Teresa thinks. And then, she loses consciousness.


    -


    -


    Teresa swiftly taps her stylus on the touchscreen of her tablet computer. Several images appear on the screen. A few more taps and every Judas in the holding tanks is accounted for.


    “Okay,” Dr. Boyd mutters to herself. “Twelve adults…Four juveniles...Three pupa…And four oothecae. We won’t need but five adults…And maybe two juveniles… The male should definitely be released. He’s kind of a rare thing around here. Introduce some old blood into a new population. Or maybe…He’ll just adapt the same mutations as the others. Here’s hoping that something goes right. Damn.”This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Teresa scrolls through the files on every Judas specimen in the lab, searching for patterns she might want to see reproduced in the feral Judases roaming the ship. A clawed hand on her right shoulder causes Teresa to glance up. Expecting to see N-Vorl, Dr. Boyd is wearing a wide grin. Her grin fades when she realizes it is Elder Glandis’ somber second-in-command.


    Teresa struggles to remember his name as she peers up into his face. Unlike the majority of other yautja present, this particular yautja’s skin is more brown and mottled; his eyes a piercing gray similar to Glotis’. He is also much taller than many of the other yautja, with a smaller girth. His shoulders are the widest part of his body. His mesh suit is silver instead of the usual black, and his implement belt is less crowded with gadgets and miscellaneous odds and ends. However, there are more compartments attached to the mesh around his calves and on his leg protectors. Teresa shakes her head as if to clear it and offers the silent yautja a kind smile.


    “I’m sorry,” Teresa says. “I was absorbed in my study. I didn’t hear you approach. Did you need something? Another report for Elder Glandis?”


    The usually somber yautja offers Dr. Boyd a smile in return. He removes his hand from her shoulder and glances down at her tablet computer.


    “Not at this time,” the tall yautja says. “Elder Glandis is confident that when you have completed your report…You will share your findings.”


    “Oh…Okay,” Dr. Boyd replies. “I’m just charting all of the repeat patterns in our captive Judases versus what I’ve been able to glean from the more feral population aboard the ship. Cross-referencing the emergence of certain mutations. I’m considering introducing some of our more tame friends into the general population…So to speak. See how it goes. We have too many here in the lab. The only alternative is to euthanize a few of them. But since you guys really enjoy hunting these bugs…I doubt Elder Glandis will like that idea.”


    “You are probably correct,” the tall yautja says. “But, I am here for another reason. N-Vorl.”


    Teresa’s stomach leaps at the mention of N-Vorl’s name. Are the others onto them? Were they seen after all? Maybe it was something in her scent which gave her away? The yautja seem to have a much heightened sense of smell. Teresa attempts to feign indifference. She offers Glandis’ second-in-command a warm smile.


    “What about him? Sure, he’s a jerk…But I don’t keep tabs on him,” Teresa says with more confidence than she feels. “If memory serves me…It’s supposed to be the other way around. I have no idea where he is right now.”


    “I am aware of N-Vorl’s present location,” the tall yautja replies. “He is asleep in his shared quarters. My inquiry in is regards to N-Vorl’s conduct.”


    Dr. Boyd’s blood nearly freezes in her veins. She struggles to keep eye contact with the inquisitive commander. Pretending to close out several unnecessary programs on her tablet, Teresa briefly looks down and then turns to fully face the yautja beside her desk.


    “I don’t understand,” Teresa hedges. “What do you mean, N-Vorl’s conduct?”


    “As yautja…We have very strict rules surrounding the treatment of females,” the tall yautja says. “Especially, females of alien species. Certain…Acts are considered most dishonorable. With that being said…Has N-Vorl committed any act against you…Which might be considered conduct unbefitting the nature of his duty?”


    Teresa tries her best to appear introspective, as if the question has caught her by surprise. Once again, she shakes her head as if jogging forth memories.


    “No,” Teresa says. “I…I don’t believe he has. Sure…He follows me around and it makes me rather…Uncomfortable at times. But, I thought that was the whole point? I wouldn’t say he’s done anything…Particularly wrong. I just think he takes his job a little too seriously. But, I understand what that’s like. I’m the same way with my research. I tend to forget the important things like eating, sleeping, taking a break. Like I said, he’s a bit of a jerk. But, I’m used to jerks. I work in a field saturated with egotists and egomaniacs. N-Vorl is nothing compared to that. I’m fine. What was it that concerned you, if you don’t mind me asking? Do you suspect him of something?”


    The tall yautja’s face seems to relax and he stands up somewhat straighter. He offers Dr. Boyd another warm smile.


    “No,” the tall one says. “Simply making sure that all is well. It was N-Vorl who convinced Elder Glandis that you should remain here in the lab. It is obvious he has a great distrust of you. I do not want you to feel as if you are a prisoner. However, it is not my decision whether you come or go. With N-Vorl’s current absence, I felt this to be an appropriate time to ensure you are not being treated unfairly.”


    Teresa heart races as she considers the compassion shown to her by this strange alien. Her mind also displays images of N-Vorl’s true misconduct, his hands doing wonderful things—and making her feel sensations she could only have imagined.


    Dr. Boyd smiles kindly up at Elder Glandis’ command leader. The tall yautja’s smile has not wavered and his expression is no longer one of apprehension.


    “I am grateful for your concern,” Teresa says. “It makes me feel a little better…Knowing I’m not just here as an inopportune guest. I feel as if I’m actually a part of your team. Thank you.”


    The tall yautja nods and turns to walk away. Teresa starts to call to him, but thinks better of it. She never even asked him his name.