Chapter 4 (D2)
The Neanderthal is subdued and brought aboard the saucer. Once back on the Mothership, Mokvel remains haunted by all he saw on the planet's surface, and fears the hunter is simply biding their time.
Previously: Despite the lone hunter’s determination, he is subdued and able to be brought aboard the alien saucer. However, while also trying to secure their dead, the Greys are suddenly attacked by the lone human’s tribe. In the end, of the away team, only Mokvel and two others survived their first trip to Earth. Mokvel makes plans to return to the Mothership and has learned one important thing from all this. Do not underestimate the Terrans, or it will likely spell their doom.
Overseer Urlak’thul appeared on the viewscreen. “I got your message about a prisoner. Care to explain what happened?”
“We ran into some complications.”
“What kind?”
"We landed close to a tribe of Terrans and one of them — “Mokvel glanced at a sheepish Grey. "Got the drop on us.”
“Any casualties?”
“Five are dead; we lost three at first to the lone Terran and the last two fell when the rest of his tribe appeared while we were pulling back. They were all unrecoverable. I’m sorry, Overseer.”
“What became of this lone Terran?”
Mokvel leaned forward. “He’s under heavy sedation. You're going to want to see him. He’s like nothing we’ve ever encountered before.”
“Is that so?”
“Overseer, they possess strength far beyond our own. It would be best to prepare a cell for him.”
“I will have that done. I look forward to your full report Mok. All things considered, it’s not a complete loss.”
The view screen went blank and Mokvel raised the Medical Bay. “How is our guest holding up?”
“They are still in a deep sleep. Everything is nominal for now. I noted plenty of scar tissue on their body. This one is quite the fighter, despite their young age.”
"After seeing them first hand that doesn’t surprise me. The Overseer will be preparing somewhere that should be able to hold him. Still, we can’t afford to get complacent. Keep me posted on their condition. We'll be docking soon."
“Understood.”
The connection ended and the ship’s autopilot handled the complex inputs required for the saucer to enter the hangar bay. The saucer soon settled and Mokvel made a point of ordering everyone off the ship, while the medical team and a group of protectors helped take the Terran off the saucer. He was suspended within a vertical, hovering culture tank that showed various tubing connected to different parts of his body. The liquid being piped inside the Terran kept him both stable and sleeping. Mokvel was at the back of the procession as it exited the craft. Unsurprisingly, Overseer Urlak’thul was present and speaking with the crew. A silence followed as he approached Mokvel.
“I look forward to seeing your report on how this creature was brought down.”
"I can't lie. It's only by sheer dumb luck that no one else died."
"How did it manage to get the drop on you? We detected no technology on the surface of the planet. It's all primitive."
“It’ll be in my report.”
“Well, I’ve had security prepare a holding cell. It should be more than enough to keep it contained.”
“I would suggest a constant patrol and observers. The last thing we should be doing is underestimating a natural-born hunter,” said Mokvel.
“There will be regular patrols. You don’t need to worry about that, Mok. Go rest. You look rough.”
Once secured, the Terran was moved deeper into the Mothership. Mokvel decided to take the Overseer's word and headed for the barracks. The compact, rectangular-shaped room was small, but it offered enough privacy. A couple of other Greys had retired for the day. He used the panel on the wall to open his near-transparent door. He entered, and it shut behind him. Another adjustment meant no one could see inside. Finally able to get out of his space suit, he lowered his aching body into the small cot. It had a setting that would coat his body in a biogel that would mitigate and heal the wounds he had sustained. He clicked his fingers, and the light dimmed. Despite his restlessness, he soon drifted off.
The corridor he was in stunk of death.
The warning light spun above and the alarm system blared. Grey bodies littered the floor; all of them were people he knew. His crew from the saucer, even the Overseer, lay in pieces. All of them were torn limb from limb and scattered one way or another. Standing over them, lauding their tremendous strength, was the Terran, with their hulking body and bulging muscles. He pulsated with rage. His pink skin had turned blue from being coated in their blood and guts. A grin stretched across his face and he reached out to Mokvel. Those enormous, dirtied, calloused hands clasped around him. Leaving him in darkness. The Terran’s laughter followed as he started squeezing, and Mokvel’s consciousness began slipping away…
Mokvel opened his eyes. The orange light and quiet beeping meant someone was trying to reach him. He quickly changed into a newly fabricated jumpsuit and approached the panel inside his room. He opened the communications.
“Glad to see you’re awake. Our guest is awake, and he’s pacing. The Overseer wants you to lead the interrogation of the specimen.”
The dream flashed by in Mokvel's mind and his lips became dry. "Sure," He managed even if it came out as a stutter. The light in his room turned a comforting blue. Reminding him of that pretty blue jewel.
And the monsters it harboured.
The journey to the holding cells felt longer as the nightmare still lingered in the back of his mind. His two hearts pounded with every step. The fury of the Terrans had him question if bringing one on board was truly the best idea. He entered the circular corridor; the heat and intensity from the white lights above almost made him want to turn and run back the way he came. The room he came to was made up of a large circle that the holding cells were built into, and cutting through the middle of it sat a long section used to discreetly observe prisoners.
Mokvel followed the circle's curve until he reached a sliding door and entered the code. He passed one observation room after another until finally; he settled on the one watching the Terran. Two observers were also present, and they greeted him with a silent nod.
“How’s he doing?”
“Pacing. To an uncomfortable degree. It’s dizzying to watch,” said the observer to his left.
“And he has just been pacing? Nothing else.”
“He chatters to himself but too quietly for us to hear.”
Mokvel stepped forward and rested on the back of their chair. “He’s killed protectors like they were nothing. We need to be extremely careful with how we handle him.”
“There are already arrangements to have them watched on rotation. These cells were made to hold things far more dangerous, that’s for sure.”
“I fear underestimating him is exactly what he wants.”
The Terran ceased pacing and approached what to him would be a blank-looking wall. What he couldn't see was that it was a two-way mirror visible from only one side. He put his ear to the wall and his breaths became longer and more drawn out. Mokvel smiled. “Can he hear us?”
“It shouldn’t be possible,” said the other observer.
The Terran bared his teeth, leaned back and began talking out loud in a mix of grunts and growls. Even if they couldn't understand, there was venom in every word.
“Can you run that through our translation filter?” Asked Mokvel.
“I can try, but his speech is -”
“Primitive.”
“That too. But nothing we haven’t figured out before. Anyhow, he should be understandable any second -”
“AM GETTING OUT. YOU CAN’T HOLD ME. I WILL GUT ALL OF YOU!” the Terran boldly declared while pounding on their bare hairy chest.
The first observer he spoke to turned the mic volume down. “Should have expected that.”
“He’s angry then.”
“Very angry.”
The Terran looked back toward the force field and faced it. He charged at it full pelt, to the horror of all the observers except Mokvel. The Terran hit the wall of energy hard enough to launch himself back to where the two-way mirror was. It held, but from where they stood, it was clear his arms and body smoked from the now visible burn marks on his skin.
“We need a med—” said the right observer as they stood up.
Mokvel knocked their hand off the comm button.
“But he’s hurt.”
“He’ll recover. He wants us to lower the field.”
“You think that was a trick?” asked the other still-seated observer.
“What else could it be? He’s a predator and like it or not… we might as well be prey to him.”
A laugh from behind caught all of their attention. “Pay, Mokvel no mind. This is nothing more than the act of a dumb ape, thinking he’s smarter than his betters,” said the Overseer.
For Mokvel, the mocking laugh of the Terran swam in mind, but he bit his tongue. Don’t believe me, fine. You’ll find out the hard way if we don’t take him seriously. He may behave like an animal, but he is far from it…
“What would you suggest we do with him?” asked the left observer.
“High Command might be interested if we can get more of them.”
“You want to bring more on board?” Mokvel asked, astonished by such a proposition. “Is five dead not enough for you, Overseer!”
“Think, Mokvel. The Warbands would be even more of a force to be reckoned with if we got a few more. Wars that dragged on for years could end in no time at all.”
Mokvel blinked a few times and saw the Terran pull himself up to his knees. He looked like he was rubbing his brow, but in truth, he was probably listening, even if he couldn't understand them. "I've seen what he can do and what his tribe can do. That's a dangerous gambit."
“It could also give us a lot of leverage with High Command,” said the Overseer. “It’s just a suggestion. Our terminal network is keeping this one’s existence under the grid.”
“Good, because the less others know, the better.”
But for how long will that be? Wondered Mokvel.
I love this story and the suspense you've created is terrific. It's so interesting the way you've made the reader the aliens, while the monster is our own specie.