King of the Hive

Chapter 15: Hatching

“Oooh! Jake! I think it’s almost ready!” a voice cried excitedly. It sounded like it was coming from... inside his head. Taran’ar groaned and attempted to rub his sore throat. His arm wouldn’t move. Then he realised he was suspended, held to the wall by his arms in this hard, slimy substance...

“Oh no,” Taran’ar sobbed. He felt something squirming in his chest, further proving his suspicions. A tear ran down his face, eventually dripping off his upper right mandible. The thing he hated most... the thing he had sworn to hunt, sworn to protect his home against. A Xenomorph. And a Praetorian at that. It appeared to be smiling sinisterly. Taran’ar averted his eyes, knowing he was doomed now. Even if he did manage to break his bonds (unlikely), and even if he did manage to find his confiscated gear (very unlikely), and even if he did manage to do this before the Chestbuster hatched (highly unlikely), he would have to evade this creature for long enough to activate his self-destruct (very very highly unlikely). Another Praetorian appeared at the first one’s side, immediately followed by another. Now escaping would be (impossible). Every ounce of hope left his body as he refused to gaze at his captors, not that he could see too well without his helmet.

“I almost feel sorry for him. But... Predators... like him deserve it after what they did to us,” this time it was a different voice, more masculine.

“It really hurts that bad?” the first voice asked.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t recommend going through it twice either,” the second voice groaned.

“Sorry Jake!” a meeker voice squeaked. Taran’ar watched the third Praetorian hug the second one in apology. The second one chuckled and rubbed its head affectionately.

“It’s okay Ostea,” ‘Jake’ reassured it. Taran’ar’s curiosity had been piqued though. Xenomorphs hatching out of Xenomorphs? Was that even possible? Then Taran’ar remembered that soon one would be hatching out of him. He felt a sudden pressure in his chest. This was it...

Taran’ar groaned and woke up in much the same state as before, except now his chest hurt more than his throat, and he was lying flat on the ground.

“Am I... dead?” he groaned aloud. He glanced down and saw his clothes were ripped in the chest area, revealing a large scar. Lying atop him was a tiny Chestbuster, its tail wrapped around his neck loosely. Its breathing was calm and slow; it was asleep. He gasped and made to throw it off, but a hiss stopped him.

“No, but you will be if you harm my child,” the voice associated with the ‘first Praetorian’ told him.

“Our child Advena,” the Praetorian name Jake corrected. ‘Advena’ blushed and quickly hugged him.

“Jake! I didn’t see you there! I was just –”

“I heard,” Jake assured it. Advena nuzzled its neck, then suddenly remembered about Taran’ar and whipped her head around to ‘stare’ at him with its eyeless face.

“I don’t know why she chose to spare you, but you better be good to her or I will rip you in half, regardless of what she says,” Advena spat. Taran’ar wondered who it was talking about, before remembering the small Xenomorph sitting atop him. He glanced from the tiny creature then back to the intimidating Praetorian and nodded nervously. The Xenomorph on his chest yawned and stretched its tiny little legs. It was almost... cute. Taran’ar shook his head. He couldn’t be having these thoughts about his sworn enemy!

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay and watch over them until she grows big enough to take care of herself,” Jake assured Advena, who nodded and exited the room, with Ostea trailing along behind her. “What’s your name?” Jake asked. Taran’ar waited, before realising that the question was directed at him.

“T-Taran’ar,” he stammered. Jake chuckled.

“Well... Taran’ar... looks like you’ve got a big responsibility ahead of you. I too wonder why my daughter chose to spare you, but that was her decision to make, not mine, nor Advena’s. My name’s Jake by the way.” The Xenomorph remained silent for a bit. “So, what are you going to name her?” Jake inquired. Taran’ar almost choked, but he had nothing to choke on but air.

“Me? Name her?” he spluttered.

“Of course,” Jake smiled. “It is up to the Xenomorph’s host to name them. You are going to be living with her for the rest of your life, so it’s only fair.”

“Hm...” Taran’ar pondered, still quite shocked at the amount of trust and responsibility being given to him. “How does Rak’dor sound?” The little Xenomorph on his chest nuzzled his neck affectionately.

“I love it my mate,” an unfamiliar voice claimed. This one was a lot stronger than the other voices, almost as if he had a stronger bond with this voice. It was definitely feminine. “Well, I could hardly be your mate if I was a male hm? Unless you were homosexual, in which case I would have been born a male,” the voice informed him. He looked down at his chest, then back up at Jake.

“Did she just...?” he asked, pointing at the small creature.

“Yes,” the voice – Rak’dor – hissed. “Did you expect that I wouldn’t be able to talk to you? How would we bond if this was the case? Silly Taran’ar,” she giggled. Taran’ar sat up and cradled her small body in his hands. That is when he realised there was something different about this Xenomorph. She had mandibles that looked exactly like his, and her skin looked a different colour. She also had the startings of dreadlocks coming out the sides of her head and a bony body that was usual for Predators. Taran’ar cocked his head at her, and she mimicked the action. Taran’ar laughed.

“She looks like me,” he stated, earning a soft jab in the chest courtesy of one of Jake’s talons.

“That’s because she hatched from you,” he pointed out.

“Speaking of hatching, how did you hatch two Xenomorphs out of yourself when you’re a Xenomorph yourself?” Jake sighed.

“It’s complicated... You see, I used to be a human, but I was killed, or at least my body was, so I had to get a new body that grew to maturity fast, that would be this body. Advena, the oldest, hatched out a few years ago, then Ostea hatched a few months ago, just before I changed bodies via some wacky Weyland cloning machine.”

“Weyland?” Taran’ar asked.

“A corrupt human organisation that’s sole purpose is to weponise the Xenomorphs,” Jake elaborated.

“All in all, they’re assholes,” Rak’dor giggled.

“Hey!” Jake protested. “You’re too young to be using that kind of language! Maybe in a few hours, but right now you’re way too young!” Both the Xenomorphs burst out laughing at his joke, leaving Taran’ar thoroughly confused. How could they be his enemies? They seemed so friendly and happy... they were just like the Predators, except more civilised and family-like.

“As soon as I’m old enough, we have to mate so I can claim you as mine!” Rak’dor told Taran’ar excitedly.  Jake made a noise that resembled a low whistle.

“You’re in for a rough night buddy. I hope you like giant, organic blankets because when it comes to bedtime, you ain’t gonna be on top bud,” Jake laughed manically, exiting the room to a soft hiss of annoyance from Rak’dor.

“Wait, don’t you have to guard me?” Taran’ar inquired.

“Do I? You seem like a nice guy, I’m sure I can trust you.” With that, Jake literally turned tail and left. Taran’ar glanced back at Rak’dor and grinned, giving her chin a gentle stroke. She purred happily and nuzzled his neck again.