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eruden-writes · 2 years

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The Unexpected Human Problem - Part 20 (Yautja x Human)

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Summary: The night her abductors die, Rayelle finds herself running for her life. She doesn’t know where she is, what is following her, where to go. All she knows is she’s not on Earth any longer and the thing chasing her has the capacity to kill.

Tai'dqei never anticipated finding a human when he took the job of tracking and subduing a small contingent of smugglers. It was only when the human attacked and fled fled, Tai'dqei - hopped up on the euphoria of a successful hunt - gave chase, instinct burning at his center.

Will sense return to Tai'dqei before he catches Rayelle? Or will Rayelle be subjected to the yautja’s natural inclinations?

And what happens afterwards?

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I’m sorry to be contacting you so soon. It’s probably my imagination but…

Something doesn’t feel right.

I think most of the staff are androids, made to look human. But there are other staff. Alien staff, which strikes me as strange, since you weren’t allowed on planet.

I also see non-humans late at night, after staff SUGGESTS we get some rest. I don’t know if they’re staff or visitors. They don’t wear Rerli uniforms.

But I’m catching sight of more of them at random intervals. There’s a buzz in the air, like something big is going to happen, too. Like an event or something.

Something feels wrong. I don’t know how to explain it.

It’s probably nothing. I’m sorry. I’m probably bothering you. Maybe I’m just having a hard time adjusting.

I hope you’re doing well, wherever your line of work has taken you.

Sorry, again, for bothering you.

~ Rayelle.

With a heavy sigh, Rayelle threw her arm over her face as she laid on her bed. There, she sent it. And she felt like an awkward teenager for it.

Or maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, making her see concerns that weren’t there, because she was desperate for a reason to contact Tai’dqei. How many times had she, in the past, reached out to someone under the guise of another issue? Although, to be fair, this was a genuine issue causing her concern.

Rerli Resort had provided everything it said it would, including personal rooms for individuals.

Rayelle’s room was a gentle blue, currently. She could change the color with the console on the wall, though, which seemed fairly anachronistic for the 2020s, but she wasn’t going to complain. Overall, the room reminded her of a hotel room. A large plush bed, a desk - equipped with a computer - and a desk chair. In one corner, there was a chair and a table, presumably so one could read. She even had her own attached bathroom with a shower.

The first morning she had woken up there, she almost thought her whole excursion with Tai’dqei had been a dream. A very vivid, oddly detailed dream.

Of course, then Jezika popped her head in, to offer their newest resident a cheerful ‘good morning’ and all dream assumptions fled.

“Finally wrote him, eh?” From the floor, at the foot of Rayelle’s bed, Lisa laughed around her gum. It was hard to acknowledge that, by all technicalities, the young woman - with her cherry red hair and studded denim jacket and fishnets - was older than Rayelle. At least in the respect that Lisa was born in the 70s and had been a teenager in the 80s. Well, in the US.

Another thing Rayelle had learned while residing in the massive resort was the fact all the humans - men, women, and non-binary - had come from some stage of the United States. Whether it was the pre-colonial Indigneous land, the Colonies, the US, or a later iteration of the country.

Theories had flown around as to why that was, but no one really knew. It seemed the resort was made for many more people, but fewer than 100 had arrived. Of course, Rerli was a new establishment, so perhaps that was why?

Rayelle had a growing paranoia that the reason why they were all from the US had to do with who had been snatching them all, though. She worried their captors shared more than just a proclivity for kidnapping.

From the desk chair, which had been turned to face the other people in the room, Sandra chuckled. She was a housewife, abducted from 1956, with carefully coiffed hair and a penchant for blouses paired with long skirts. A light floral scent always wafted from her. In her hands, she worked a piece of knitting with her needles. “You have certainly agonized over that missive since you arrived!”

“It’s difficult,” Rayelle groused, faint heat nudging at her cheeks but not quite coming to the surface yet. It was a little aggravating to be teased so relentlessly from a housewife and a punk, but that was her life at the moment. She shrugged and sighed, a dollop of resignation in her voice, “He’s probably halfway across the universe.”

Though she did want to message Tai’dqei since setting foot at the resort, her reasons for doing so expanded the longer she stayed. It wasn’t simply her missing Tai’dqei, but a gut feeling that something was wrong. Though part of her still struggled against that instinct, believing she was just looking for any reason to reach out to him. It was a struggle against herself.

Before the other two could reply, one of the android staff poked their head into the room. A quizzical look passed over their features after a beat of observing the three women. “What are you three doing here together? You’re from highly disparate decades.”

One of the few ‘guidelines’ of Rerli 3: Stick to your era.

It was a rule few abided by, much to staff frustration. Some decades had far fewer people though. It was unfair to isolate the few from other eras, simply due to potential anachronisms. Besides, it didn’t seem there had been any successful return stories, from what Rayelle churned up. Which meant no one returning to their home could blab about the ‘wonders of the future,’ whether near or distant.

Then again, the resort was new. Maybe there were successful stories of return trips elsewhere.

“What do you need, Jane?” Lisa asked with a tinge of irritation, her nose wrinkling as she popped her bubble gum.

Forgetting the transgression, or maybe simply not caring - as far as an android can care, - Jane made a delighted sound and clapped her hands together once. “There are guests who wish to make your acquaintance.”

“Guests? Are they non-humans?” Rayelle pushed herself into a sitting position, trying to stifle the way her heart jumped. There was no way Tai’dqei could have gotten there so soon, right? So it had to be someone else. That itch of concern started to weasel its way into her thoughts.

“Yes, isn’t that exciting?” Jane’s smile didn’t falter, her eyes not blinking.

Rayelle narrowed her eyes. The other two human women in the room exchanged glances, apparently already aware where she’d go with this. “What happened to not allowing non-humans here?”

“I haven’t the slightest what you mean, Miss Brooks,” Jane replied, no hint of deception in her voice or her features. Although, maybe she was programmed not to show either. Jane folded her hands in front of herself, primly, still sporting that spotless smile on her pink lips. “We hope to facilitate strong bonds with non-humans here, in case our residents can’t go home.”

Residents. Not guests. Rayelle narrowed her eyes, not really enjoying how her mind gnawed on the distinction of those two words. Sandra shifted in her chair and Lisa snorted, both swathed in the same aura of uncertainty that Rayele felt.

“What kind of… aliens are there?” Sandra was the one to ask, fumbling over the word aliens. Rayelle didn’t know if it was a novel word or simply her own personal experiences making it taste bad on Sandra’s tongue.

Not picking up on Sandra’s distaste, Jane twittered excitedly, “Oh, an array!”

“Yautja?” Rayelle asked, unable to stop herself. Maybe Tai’dqei had gotten into the heads of the androids, altered their programming. Maybe he petitioned whoever ran Rerli 3 for access. Maybe, maybe, maybe. A billion wishful thoughts spun about Rayelle’s head, knowing they were all unlikely.

“Of course not!” If it wasn’t for their situation, Rayelle would have found Jane’s scandalized tone and expression funny. “They’re too much for humans’ delicate sensibilities.”

Rayelle sucked on her teeth, before hazarding a tentative guess. “Florizian?”

“What a good guess!” Jane’s delighted tone felt like a punch to Rayelle’s gut, knocking her breath out for a moment. She wished the android had visited before she sent the message to Tai’dqei. Then she could have told him, warned him what was going on. Who was likely behind it all.

“Tell ‘em to come back later.” Lisa’s brusque voice caught Jane’s attention, the android turning a perturbed look to the red-headed punk. Waving her hand, her plastic bracelets rattling on her wrist, Lisa added with no less bite, “I don’t feel like meeting anyone new today.”

Jane seemed about to say something when Sandra, with her working knitting needles jittering a little more than earlier, sighed, “Neither do I, I’m afraid.”

“Me either,” Rayelle chimed in, leaning back on her hands on the bed and crossing her legs. She and Jane locked gazes, across the small distance between bed and entryway. Calculations, considerations, and - perhaps - a fight between original programming versus new flickered behind Jane’s eyes. Rayelle waited quietly, hoping she’d be proven wrong.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in the matter. Our guests are sizable investors to our organization,” Jane finally answered with a sigh. She stepped to the side, motioning to the hallway where two aliens finally emerged. One had long, wiggling tendrils - like Zav - and the other had four multi-faceted eyes and strange solid-looking growths from their cheeks. Both were built like tanks, though.

The air in the room stilled. One side, thick with distrust. The other firm in their sense of complete control. Only Jane, who appeared unaware of the quiet clashing of forces, made a gesture to the two aliens as she continued to speak to the humans, “You will be escorted to the assembly hall with everyone else. Please, come along now.”

With that, Jane happily flounced from the room, leaving humans and aliens to leer at one another. Rayelle considered refusing to move, but Sandra sighed and put her knitting away into her bag. The housewife stood, dusting off her skirt.

Sandra shot Rayelle and Lisa a look that read ‘let’s get this over with’ and, quietly, the two women followed her lead.

—

Apprehension lit hot and heavy in the air of the assembly hall. As per everything else in the resort, each decade had its own auditorium to keep inter-decade mingling to a minimum. However, it seemed they shoved all available humans into the 2070s hall. Likely due to the heightened tech and plush seating available.

Jane had gathered more humans since retrieving Rayelle, Sandra, and Lisa. It seemed as if she was just going door to door, herding who-so-ever was around. With the number of humans, the number of non-human escorts also expanded.

By the time they made it to the assembly hall, there were six non-humans and nearly twenty-five humans. No one spoke, considering every time they did, one of their escorts would gargle or growl or snarl at them.

An alien, that reminded Rayelle of a cross between an octopus and a shark, stopped Jane’s troupe near the entryway. They regarded a holoscreen in tentacle-y hands. “Do you have guests TDA2G, TDA3K, and TDC8P?”

Rayelle thought she could hear the whirring of mechanics in Jane’s head, before she eventually said, “Yes, I do.”

“Those’re Zav’s dibs,” the alien gurgled, before rushing to intercept another group. Another non-human shuffled into the spot Octo-Arms had left empty. This one was purple, blue flowers blossoming at their temples and vine-like hair pulled back into an elaborate pile atop their head.

“What an honor!” Jane crooned, as she turned to her troupe. She pointed out the three humans, bouncing on her heels with delight, “Bette, Rayelle, and Mizan, you’ll be going with this lovely Florizian gentleperson.”

The two others - Bette, a 1940s factory worker, and Mizan, a scholarly young man from the 2050s - dawdled in the safety of the group, until Rayelle stepped toward their new escort. Bette and Mizan followed her, both staying behind as the Florizian led them away. Rayelle tried to shoot them both assured glances, but Bette’s features remained stony and Mizan looked about ready to faint.

The walk wasn’t a long one, but it did lead them to a more secluded area of the resort. It was a wing where basic administration and offices sat. Though as Rayelle traversed it, she realized it had changed since her first entry, five days ago. Cubicles had been torn out, desks shoved to the far walls. A number of aliens lingered about, some lollygagging as others moved with the purpose of a job.

Into one of the larger offices, the three humans were led. Other humans were led in, as well. Presumably from different herding groups. Faintly, Rayelle wondered what they were intending to do with the humans left behind, in the assembly hall. Her mind took her to too dark of places to focus on.

Instead, she turned her attention to the desk, behind which a figure familiar to Rayelle stood.

“Ah, good, my darlings have arrived,” Zav said, when one of the Florizian who escorted the humans to the office got his attention. He turned, all smiles and charm while the vine-tendril hair wiggled with delight. He stood tall and lithe, dressed in a nice enough suit. Rayelle couldn’t help but picture how that smile could easily turn into a snarl, with so many teeth.

“Let me take a look at you all,” he nearly purred as he rounded the desk and approached the roughly twelve humans in attendance.

All of them stood to attention as Zav approached, noticeably uncertain but spines straight. He tilted his head this way and that, drinking in the details of each person and occasionally touching them with a hair vine. He’d mutter instructions to another Florizian, a smaller one that tailed at his heels, but Rayelle couldn’t catch whatever he said.

The longer the inspection went on, the more the humans lost their cool exteriors. Mizan’s shoulders arched to their ears, their lips pressed together with anxiety, while Bette glowered, with her arms crossed over her chest. Others fidgeted or tugged on their clothes. Rayelle tried to school her expression into neutrality, cover any inkling of recognition in her eye as Zav stared at her.

His hair wavered atop his head, before he traced a single tendril down the curve of Rayelle’s jaw. It felt velvety soft and pliable, but cold. She braced against the vine, waiting to feel a thorny bite. “And you are the one who’d been traveling with a yautja, yes?”

“That’s right,” she answered, forcing herself to remain still under the touch. Her eyes angled toward Zav’s face, hating that she had to look up into their features. Their dark eyes surveyed her for a moment. They were unreadable to her, though. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Zav saw in her, what he thought of her.

“I do hope he didn’t tarnish you,” he finally said, another brush of the vine coasted over her cheek to her chin and down her neck. A normally gentle action felt oddly like spiders, crawling over Rayelle’s skin.

Her brows furrowed at the assertion, a frown threatening to tilt at her lips. “What do you mean?”

“Well, your importance to me is for the revitalization of the Florizian population.” He patted her cheek, his hand falling from her face. With narrowing eyes and a double-edged smile, Zav added, “Can’t do that if you’re carrying a litter of yautja spawn, can you?”

A litter. That was curious wording. Rayelle stowed that away for later contemplation and, perhaps, to ask Tai’dqei if she ever saw him again.

She chose not to focus on the implication of those words. Still clinging to her sense of calm, since she suspected it wouldn’t last, Rayelle managed to evenly reply, “If you’re asking if I had relationships with my traveling partner, I didn’t.”

“That is good to hear!” That edged smile softened into one of actual delight. Pity that he was a piece of shit, Rayelle realized, since the expression was actually almost sweet.

“I also don’t intend to be a Florizian broodmare,” she added, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin. At her sides, her fists clenched, her fingernails digging into her palm to keep her from trembling.

The Florizian before her blinked, owlishly. Behind him, others shifted awkwardly, aware of how the air around their boss dipped dangerously. The delighted smile was short lived as another, colder grin took its place. “You won’t be a broodmare. More like a greenhouse.”

Rayelle rolled her eyes at the wordplay. As if he could turn this into a cutesy exchange, when he was about to force the humans into perpetual parental servitude. “My tubes are tied. No babies for me.”

Before she could register movement, one of Zav’s hands whipped out, grabbing her forcefully by the chin. A startled sound choked in her throat as his other arm looped around her back, pulling her closer to him. His hold was bruising on her face.

“Do you really think we can’t reverse that?” Zav sneered down at her, vines waggling in cruel amusement. A long green tongue flickered out from between his lips as he stared down at her, his teeth glinting in the brief moment his mouth opened. “Pity about the pheromones, though. That was more for your pleasure than anything else, but we’ll make do. Won’t we?”

He squeezed her cheeks, demanding a reaction or answer. A dull throb ached through her jaw as her heart pounded. Rayelle shot him a squinty-eyed, sarcastic smile as her hand moved carefully to her hoodie pocket.

It hadn’t taken a rocket scientist to feel the shift in the resort’s atmosphere, two days ago. Nearly every human noticed it. A few had mentioned the androids acting strange, as well. Others had mentioned actually seeing unfamiliar non-humans loping about. Two humans had gone completely missing, the staff unable to account for them, even in their own records.

Suspicious, Rayelle had spoken to others - revealing to them what Tai’dqei had told her about human breedability - and they decided to prepare for the worst.

Anything that could be used as a stabbing or bludgeoning weapon, that wouldn’t immediately be noticed as missing, was gathered. Knives and meat tenderizers from the kitchens. Scissors, knitting needles, woodcarving kits, and x-acto knives from the craft areas. Though the gardens had provided the most, with three-pronged cultivators, sharp edged trowels, shears, clippers, and even scythes.

As far as anyone could tell, the staff hadn’t noticed at all. Which led to the bolder thefts. Shovels and automated knives and saws and anything that could feasibly have a use to protect themselves.

Larger items were hidden around the resort, in places humans could flee to. Smaller items were kept on their persons.

Such as the hand cultivator in Rayelle’s hoodie pocket. Zav seemed too intent on snarling into Rayelle’s face - perhaps imagining what he would do to her - to realize her movement. She quickly withdrew the three-pronged weapon from her pocket, swinging it up and into the side of the Florizian’s face.

Zav let out a shriek of shock and pain, as the satisfying squish of metal sunk into flesh and eye. As he shoved her away, Rayelle kept a tight hold on her weapon and it shlucked out of the side of his face. Dark green spurted from the injuries, sticky like sap. A scent like cut grass - but heady - filled Rayelle’s nostrils as she stumbled back.

At her attack, the others instantly followed suit, pounding and stabbing into any alien who had the misfortune of being close enough. Bette, armed with a knife and a metal pan - wherever the hell she managed to carry that - as a shield. Mizan with their taser in one hand and a knife in the other.

The room erupted into chaos and screams. Rayelle hoped the others could hear back in the assembly hall or that they had already begun their own escape attempts. It hadn’t been a perfect plan, but hopefully the others figured out what was up and used their stolen goods to escape.

Stunned guards took a moment to react, before rushing toward the sharps and electricity. Green and red blood splattered, though more of the former spilled than the latter. Rayelle spun toward the door, absently slamming her cultivator into the back of another Florizian’s head; one that Mizan had been struggling against with his knife.

“Let’s go!” Someone yelled heading for the hall, slamming through the door and into the corridor. High on adrenaline, and taking advantage of the shock, all the humans rushed from the room, scattering in the hallway. As Rayelle raced with Bette and Mizan, others met up with them, in similar states of bloody, bruised disarray.

She thought to do a headcount, but there was no time. They had to get to the 1950s bomb shelter or to the 2170s radioactive shelter. There were a number of smaller holdout spaces, but most of the supplies, first aid kits, weaponry, and communication tech had been stored in those two places.

The longer Rayelle ran, the more shrieks, the more screams she heard. Alarms started blaring through the resort, flashing red and angry, as the far-off sounds of booted footfalls and barking orders echoed.

Trash cans and laundry carts and supply stations were overturned, to hinder alien pursuers. Anything that couldn’t be nailed down was thrown in the way.

Ungodly howls lit behind Rayelle and she couldn’t help but look back.

Zav was there.

Or she thought it was Zav. It was hard to tell. He’d grown and his tendrils had overtaken his body. He was a writhing mass of teeth and vines, one eye glowing and the other a bloody hole. Judging from the hate filled glare, pinned to her form, it was definitely Zav.

Her legs carried her faster, her heart stuttering as her lungs ached for more breath. She was close to safety. Others were already in the shelter, waving others in and screaming for laggers to hurry up.

Rayelle’s heart twisted. They had all agreed, if necessary, the doors would shut even if some were locked out. There was hope they could flee to another, smaller hidey hole or the vents or even the outside.

They were banking on the fact their reproductive capabilities were too valuable to destroy.

But they all knew it was a gamble.

Rayelle hurtled over the threshold, with two others, before the door slammed shut. Spinning around as the locks chunked into place, Rayelle peered through the porthole - heavy glass that would deflect bullets or, presumably, lasers - as the solid door vibrated with impact. Something big and angry and vicious howled and pounded at the door. The door shook in its frame, but the metal held firm.

She stood, staring at it as her chest heaved with panting breaths. Her lungs ached and her legs twinged. Faintly, she felt the pain where Zav had held her, along her jaw, flare. It was probably bruised.

But they had done it. At least for the moment, they had managed to rebel and get away from the aliens. The alleged ‘investors’ of Rerli 3. Likely also the aliens that had funded so many lives being ripped away from home, to begin with. Though, it wasn’t just Florizians, a small part of Rayelle realized. There had been other non-humans, ones she didn’t have names for.

Shaking her analytical thoughts away, Rayelle turned to the innards of the bunker. “Was that everyone?”

“No one was locked out, if that’s what you mean,” replied Abe, an older man who Rayelle suspected was from the 1930s, judging by his attire.

It had been somewhat surprising to find men at Rerli 3. Though, after some thought, Rayelle guessed there were aliens out there needing sperm, just as much as eggs and incubators. Or maybe there were non-humans that incubated via the men.

She nodded and muttered a thanks to Abe, before glancing over the assembled people, crammed into the room. Not everyone got away in one piece, she realized. Quite a few people sat on the floor, as others tended to their medical needs. Quiet sobbing and whimpering filled the room.

Rayelle tried not to fret or worry about familiar faces she didn’t find.

Even if everyone couldn’t get to the bunkers, they had mapped out a number of other decent hiding places. She just had to hope everyone had gotten somewhere safe. Even if those other areas weren’t stocked with as much food or intense weaponry.

With her heart still pounding, Rayelle glanced at her wrist gauntlet. Her fingers shook as she pulled up the communication app, the one she had sent a message through to Tai’dqei earlier.

Had he seen her message?

Had he replied?

Was he coming?

Her stomach sank as a ‘No Satellite Connection’ error flashed on the holoscreen.

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