A/N: Hey guys, long time no see. It's been so long since I've last had a chance to do this. Life seems to have taken me on a spin without warning. Without going into too much detail, family and personal issues have popped up in the last few months. As well as my work life. The job I got is closing down, and now I have to re-find a job - and my current one took me 6 months to get, so yes: I am a little stressed.

But, I have promised myself I would finish this story, and so I shall.

I am making these chapters shorter. Everything is essentially the same, but spaced out a little better, I believe. To try and limit too many switches in POV's.

.

.

Aeglaeca 20 Hybrids

.

.

Chapter One: Aeglaeca

.

.

.

In a dull grey-walled room sat a strange human being - if she could be called that. From a lone survivor in an Antarctica mishap – the corrupt government and a few ambitious, wayward scientists had found traces of three different DNA codes. One was human, female and two were of unknown origin. Naturally, the Weyland and Yutani industries were quite ecstatic upon finding these new never-before-seen DNA codes, because who with a scientific mind would not? Well, to be perfectly honest one had been seen before - here and there throughout history; they had seen patterns and signs, not that they had much solid evidence to go by. An agreement was made between the two rival corporations and they joined together - creating the most powerful corporation in the world.

They had been quite eager to find out what those creatures were – and were practically foaming at the mouth to talk to the only survivor who'd seen them first hand.

Alexa (Lex, preferably) Woods was her mother and she had been quite tight-lipped on the matter in question - or so she was told. Despite grueling and unmoral methods of 'persuassion': she never cracked and remarkably retained hold of her sanity. In the end, they were forced to cook up a story to keep the media's nose out of the way and kidnapped (gagged, blinded and bound) Lex from her home and into a building owned by the Weyland Company and a few up-there, hidden government officials and proprietor of the Weyland family - something that may have felt like a betrayal, considering she had been there with Mr Weyland and witnessed his death.

The government – the hushed sections that sanctioned the two corporations of their many departments – wanted to know everything there was to know about these mysterious creatures. They wanted to know who they were, where they had come from, what they were doing here, how long they had been around for, why they were here and what they had looked like - and more importantly - they wanted to know if either of them was technologically advanced. Those were questions Lex had little to no answers for.

If someone had asked her why she had not given them even the tiniest detail – she would have replied she had felt an obligation to keep what little she did know, a secret.

Perhaps it was a wise move, but it was quite dangerous to keep from them. Especially when someone on the project was adamant to get those answers one way or another; and felt he was exempt from the law; possessed the God-Superiority Complx - and had the 'bright' and 'brilliant' idea to mix the DNA's together. So high up, in fact, that he even received permission to keep Lex alive for about 200 years until humanity's science and utilities had evolved – so they could use hereggs as the tools to gain...

Test Subjects.

Ciara was one such result from this merging – one of the more successful one and she did not want to see the failures – she'd already seen enough.

At first glance, Ciara looked human enough until, that is, people got a closer look.

She blinked mismatched eyes, staring down at the sickle claws on black, chitinous hands. She flexed them, listening idly to the slight clicking they made as they connected and rubbed against their neighbours. These claws were a lethal weapon at her disposal – and she remembered distantly a time when she had lashed out at a scientist who had tried to pin her down to test her capabilities.

It had involved an injection of some kind. Routine protocol. That stuff had hurt like hell. She had been at a young and innocent age – if there ever was such a time for a creature like her. She stood to her feet; standing to an impressive 6-foot-6 mark that towered above most of the scientists (who usually stood around the 5-foot mark), which was a constant source of amusement for her. Her bladed tail flicked to the side in response to her thoughts. Pausing, she glanced at it. She remembered that some idiot-of-a-scientist had tried to save another test subject - only to have her tail rammed through his ribcage, killing him within seconds.

Carefully, and mindful of her claws, she smoothed down her black shirt that covered her modesty – if only for something to do. She had no mirror in this cage of four walls, so she had little to amuse herself with. She couldn't even practise making faces to her reflection and brush up on her threatening and frightening expressions. Not that she needed it, of course. Her fangs were intimidating enough on their own – not to mention her eyes and she chuckled at her minds' musings and turned her thoughts towards her genetically-similar siblings.

Technically speaking, Ciara had an unknown number of them and trying to count them was akin to counting the stars (or a massive enemy force). A feat that was, at best, time consuming. While a way to pass the time – there was always a chance she would have to start all over again because she had lost count. Personally, she knew nineteen of them. Ten were males and nine were females; and they had been among the 'luckier' ones. There were others, failed experiments that were enough to give a monster such as herself and her siblings – who comprised of the Aeglaeca 20 – nightmares.

Those monsters were also her siblings: the 'unlucky' ones.

The Aeglaeca 20 was the title they'd been given by the scientists. It was a way for them to differentiate them from the other experiments. Ciara remembered hearing a scientist argue his views on the title they had been given. It had been around the time she had been enduring a monthly medical examination and test; when she heard him protest (rather loudly) against giving them any other title.

'Aeglaeca' could mean: demon, monster, fiend, hero, warrior, miscreant, fierce enemy, fierce combatant, miserable being…

Strangely enough she had agreed with the scientist. It was an apt title indeed. Half of her was almost sorry that he was the same scientist she had rammed her tail into…

Alas, her thoughts were heading off track.

Each sibling of hers had a scientist in charge of their… production and maintenance. Most were either dead or retired now. The Aeglaeca did not age like humans did. Each scientist was there to test, examine and make all those oh-so-important notes. Those notes were written in negligent scribbles that left little to no hope of understanding them. You'd need a different cipher for each scientist, which was a rather time consuming task. It wasn't for the impatient, which made Ciara one of the few willing to decode the scientists' notes, had she a mind to. During the course of her life, she had managed to read only a handful. None had been particular useful or interesting, unless she wanted a detailed report on how extreme the scientists measures of testing could be.

Ciara was listed as 'assassin' in their databases. She was a weapon in their hands, but she had long since lost her aversion for murder. The scientists held the perfect leverage to ensure her obedience. She was half convinced they had promoted the care, affection and love she felt for her siblings for that exact purpose. Even so, she sometimes felt more like a very smart pet. The first scientists had been given the prestigious honour of bestowing names upon the Hybrids. Needless to say, most were hardly imaginative. If anything else they were more like stupid and obvious pet names, meant to demean them from other humans.

She supposed she should be thankful that they scientist(s) in charge of her were somewhat humane in her naming. Not that it made her like them any more than she did before, which was deep-fried – alive – in hot burning oil and poured with acid one bite at a time, then she would slice and dice them before feeding them to the monsters they created: the monsters that were not even remotely human. It was such a lovely dream. One she had dreamed about over and over again. Sometimes she wished it would come true, but then she remembered she might as well beat them into the ground with a crowbar – because she doubted even the most hungry of the monsters would eat them. Those scientists weren't bound to taste nice.

She amused herself by picturing one of the monsters take a large bite – before spitting them back out and snorted at the mental image.

Scratching an itch that appeared on her shoulder, Ciara turned her gaze towards her only source of entertainment. It was a lone desk. It was metal as grey as the room and bolted down to prevent her from slamming it into some poor unfortunately soul who'd been ordered to fetch her. Upon the desk were volumes upon volumes of books; however she had already read everything she had been given to pass the time. New books were submitted for good behaviour - like a pet.

She hated the reward system.

The mysterious (and rarely seen) higher-ups were fanatically interested in her intellectual development. As such, she'd been allowed complete access to numerous branches of topics (given for her indulgence). She had taken to them like a fish to water; since they staved off the boredom she experienced in the absence of her siblings. She always knew where her siblings were; she could feel them. However, since she was alone with only herself for company more often than not she'd much rather read a book than listen to her thoughts day in, day out. Not to mention they had developed a telepathic link with each other. Listen to her siblings, while sometimes amusing, could quickly become annoying. Reading cancelled out much of the outside annoyances, and besides: they said knowledge was power.

Running her piecing, eerie gaze over the covers, she signalled out one book amongst the mass of her collection. Past Complex Maths, Biology, War Strategies, Harry Potter, BattleAxe and American History – she ran a single claw, almost reverently, along the spine of her current favourite: The Complete Work of Shakespeare. Admittedly, she hadn't expected to enjoy the stories and poems, but she did. Its tragedies and olden language flowed easily off her tongue. Her siblings would often commentate on her dark, soft and musical voice that was eerily captivating to listen to; which she would use whenever they'd exchanged stories with one another. It was something to pass the time.

Shakespeare, a man long-since dead, had brightened her dull days when she was by herself. Not that she would have admitted it out loud in company, of course.

Suddenly – from behind the one-and-only door, emerged the scientist that "took care" of her.

"Time for your daily exercise, Ciara," Dr. David Vanguard said, his smirk flitting across his pale lips, but his blue eyes strayed from looking directly in her eyes. A recent occurrence...

Ciara did not know what to make of this scientist. She had a long memory of him. Perhaps ninety years worth, and he didn't seem to have aged past his late twenties. She knew that wasn't normal, but she doubted the human would ever tell her how it was possible.

Compared to most scientists, she did not find herself wishing or imagining his death; partly because of an absurd feeling of familiarity and the dislike of change. His presence was a mild comfort, and compared to her previous 'overseer', he much more preferred. Unlike Dunstan, Vanguard warned her if any of his examinations or experiments were inclined to be painful. He explained things; he didn't just throw you into a bunch of unknowns. She appreciated that. However, he was a scientist-grunt: he did not hold the power Dunstan wielded.

So, instead of hissing at him like she would other scientists, she stared at him for a moment – watching him sweat under her infamous nerve-wracking gaze; and then stalked towards him and the armed men flanking his side. She took in his appearance, which seemed to have been spruced up for today. Vanguard was a jeans and a shirt kind of guy, but today he had put on a pair of simple black pants and a dark blue dress shirt. He might have a meeting with his boss.

He was feeling confident, it seemed. Her muscles flexed slightly as she approached Vanguard, akin to the way a predator stalks its prey. However, she was more cautious of her prey. Scientists were not without safety measures as their occupations often dictated. They were sticklers for safety precautions and procedures; especially in regards to their more... dangerous experiments.

Her stalking lope made the trigger-happy soldiers grip their weapons tighter – and she snorted at them. She folded her arms over her chest, her bladed tail swished back and forth obediently behind her – lest it stray as she acted the docile protégée experiment. This was the only way to escape the excruciating shocks of pain which, despite her tolerance, were able to knock her flat on her back, writhing in of receiving an electrical charge straight from the main supply of power. Yeah... Ouch!

She listened with half an ear to Vanguard's monologue. He often talked about inconsequential things, some of which could be quite amusing. But she wasn't much of a conversationalist. Vanguard recognised this and never included questions or statements that demanded she need to reply. She knew much about the world she lived in, from listening to him talk. She made sure to nod in all the right places, however, to whatever questions and statements he did ask. He was an egotist. She gathered he believed himself to be the top scientist of the ship the entire facility was based in. Sometimes the scientists touched down on a planet in the process of becoming habitable for human colonisation. Often, Ciara and her siblings were used to flush out anything resembling a hostile. Sometimes they first used such places as outposts for experimentation on other Xenomorphs.

Luckily, or unlucky depending on how one looked at it, Vanguard was not like the top scientist. Dunstan was a hell of a lot crazier, powerful, ambitious and cold then Vanguard could ever be.

You count your blessings where you could...

As Ciara stalked behind Vanguard through the maze-like halls of her extended prison, she could not stop her eyes straying from door to door. The sterile after-scent of one-too-many experiments and cleaning products always lingered in the air of this hallway. As did an overpowering presence of what she could only describe as cloying shadows of hungry intent. It overpowered her senses. Death, and the pungent odour of other such monstrosities hidden behind heavily barred doors, caused her claws to flex in readiness for battle. Other experiments, the failed experiments the scientists did not destroy, hid behind those doors. She fought hard against that deeply-ingrained instinct imbedded deep within her to fight, to kill that threat.

She won, but barely. She gave herself a silent pat on the back for her efforts.

Biting her bottom lip with her fangs to keep her instincts under control, she instead wondered what was in store for her and her siblings today.

Scientists were renowned for their experiments; and the ones on this spaceship in particular, were notorious for getting bored every now and then. They would set up challenges for their experiments to complete whenever they had nothing else that interested them happening. Some were simply logic puzzles while others were classic Gladiator-like fights to the death.

The creatures they were pitted against held four primary thoughts: Food. Enemy. Something to play with before I kill and eat it. Destroy.

It was such a relaxing existence, wouldn't you agree? Ciara couldn't wait to fight to live for this day and the next. Honestly. It wasn't like she had anything better to do...

Most of her memories were exactly that, some a little more adventerous and outdoors. Those she liked.

Finally, they reached the entrance to the Mess Hall. This was the place where she was often free to play – to an extent – with her siblings (if they were also there).

Here, they were alone as they could get without guards or scientists (behind glass mirrors did not count in this situation, else she'd go mad). It was as large as a rugby field with the added seats – a nice size; surprisingly well-maintained considering they were on a spaceship. Weapons of all kinds lined the walls with an added training area – but the weapons were simply for training. They weren't made for killing, unfortunately (although with enough brute force you could seriously hurt someone; maybe even fatally... hmm... ideas). There was also a basketball court, a section where they could swim and compete to see who could hold their breath for the longest – typical competitive sibling rivalry stuff.

Vanguard stopped her before she could open the door, his larger hand covering her own. He was almost as tall as her, and so he stood out from the rest of the scientists for that one reason. Another would be the veiled warmth in his gaze, and the fact he was not afraid of her. Oh, he was wary of her capability to kill, which was smart, but not afraid. "You can leave," he told the guards and neither he nor she moved or spoke until they were gone.

She was only a few steps away from the Mess Hall, but she found herself curious. So, her head tilted at him, watching those blue eyes that were as piercing as hers. "What is it?"

Vanguard locked his hands behind his back, silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts, then... "Dunstan plans something he has not shared with me."

"He always does," she replied, leaning her hip against the door, more curious by this.

Vanguard and Dunstan had known each other for as long as Ciara could remember. She remembered Dunstan's assessing eyes and Vanguard's admiring and hopeful ones. And then, when puberty hit, Vanguard's had turned suspicious and angry. There was a story there Ciara did not know, but whether he was on her side or Dunstan's, she could not be sure. Nor did she ever plan to ask.

"Just..." he breathed out and showed a weakness Ciara had not seen in many, many years. For some reason, she was half-tempted to reach out to him. "Be careful, alright. I have a bad feeling..."

"This is dangerous talk, Vanguard," she told him, tone emotionless as she stared at him.

He stared back for a moment and then smirked and turned away. "It is. But talking to you always is."

As he left, she opened the door; her brow cocked in his absence in response to... whatever that was. That smirk followed her as she stepped inside, alarm bells ringing in her head. Then, she shook the feelings and thoughts away. She would dissect that moment later, in private. Instead, she focused on the fact there may be an adventure coming up soon...

A chilling smirk reached Ciara's lips as she eagerly pondered what sorts of mischief she could get up to with her siblings

.

.


.

.

"More people would learn from their mistakes if they weren't so busy denying them." - Harold J. Smith