Nameless

Time Off

Dr. Dahle was watching a video recording featuring a set of rooms, with alien infants walking around, during the socialization period of their daily routine.

Hybrids.

Who still presented overly aggressive traits (specially as they matured), but there was some predictability around their behavior for the most part. Not to a point they would be a marketable asset, but they had a clear path around that now.

The good doctor smiled to herself. She had a breakthrough. She could isolate the very set of genes that would guarantee those creatures were deadly, without adding too much xenomorph into the mix.

Xenomorph DNA produces unpredictable, unreliable and highly unstable specimens.

But her employers insisted those beings would produce the best bio-weapons, which was a fair assessment if not taking into account the very obvious drawbacks.

So she found a second species she could trade DNA with, without sacrificing the designations of a killer machine.

Plus this species had a higher, human-like level of reason and awareness.

None of the new generation of infants had reached puberty yet, but thanks to xenomorph genetics, they matured quickly. This batch had good potential.

She reviewed a handful of medical records related to this group of hybrids, and marked them a bunch (28% of the group) to be culled and dissected.

Now it was a matter of waiting some months for sexual maturity and hope the hormone surge wouldn't render them... unworkable.

Untrainable. Untamable. Unstable.

It wouldn't be the first time, and some groups had to be discarded in its entirety. But this group... This group was different. The project results were improving (she had the data to prove), and a good sire for the cubs to fall back on. She just needed more funding.

Her aide approached, clearing its throat to draw the doctor's attention (how human!).

"Yes?", Dahle waved to the chair in front of her desk.

"Dr. Dahle, your whole itinerary is ready", the Synthetic reported, while handing over a different tablet to the doctor, choosing to stand. His logic brain had patterned the Doctor's behaviors and preferences long ago, he simply knew the invite to sit was not to be taken.

The female reviewed the carefully planned meetings and events. The symposiums, the biology summit, the meeting with the Seizei board and some potential private investors.

"I was also able to secure some meetings with Weyland Yutani and the United Americas Allied Command".

She scrolled down, to find the jewels in the schedule. Government funding. Government support.

Surely, the colonial forces' funding was astronomical. Not that they paid their forces well, no. They just needed such a massive number of soldiers that the prospect of unpaid wardogs was not vehemently rejected anymore.

More than one militar division were interested in her research, however two were barring some of her efforts - the bastards dealt with xenomorphs infestations, which made them weary of her proposals.

The lack of perspective amazed Dahle. Why not use her product to combat those very problems? Once her product was viable, of course. But that was in the foreseeable future.

She needed to score a win with the military representatives of at least one relevant nation or group, and the Americas Allied command looked like her best bet.

Thanks to other nation security ministries - and their constant digging - the United Nations Alliance representatives were able to strong arm her employer to suspend part of her funding.

Politics, the Board of directors at Seizei explained. They needed a product the buyers would feel safe to acquire, the government would actually approve off. But how the fuck was she supposed to do that if they cut her funding?

With outside support, the board stated. That would allow her to keep going, while they worked to revert their own situation with UNA.

Seizei had a devastating amount of influence, but not even Weyland Yutani could circumvent some parts of politics.

***

"Why are you sulking? Dahle gave you everything you asked for!" The male voice attempted some humor, but everyone could hear the spite in it.

"Do shut up, Karl" the Girl snarled.

"Don't tell anyone, but deep down she appreciates some alone time with her boyfriend", a different guy needled, fake-whispering.

The girl set her tablet on her table, turning her chair towards her colleague.

"I changed my mind. Karl, Reuben, please do continue. The whole lab should know how I regret ever stepping up after you fucked up. Maybe I should be nice and for once give you a chance to prove that, I don't know, you can actually do shit. Just say the word. I do have a look of hours on my bank.", she stared right at him? Fully knowing he was not the one who would be stuck with the alien. "A week off is enough for you?" She managed her rant with an absolute straight face. And then smirked.

Let's play petty, why not. Karl and Reuben wouldn't even be that affected. But other members of the team would have a lot of extra "alone time" with the yautja.

So she would let her colleagues take care of those two little shits for her, since, you know, no one could complain about her handling the creature.

(Not that any of this would help her popularity with the team).

And the last freaking accident (after some uneventful months ) was last week. After all, the yautja still had a good hand.

***

Dr. Dahle had left a list (and an attached timeline) of tests she wanted done.

She would spend 7 months away for her "tour", and most of it under stasis (which meant low opportunities to remotely contact the team). She needed to be in different parts of the galaxy to present her research.

She hated being away for such a long period, but her first stop was 3 months away. It couldn't be helped.

She couldn't send someone else - her ego would never allow the possibility of someone else to become the face of her project.

(But she couldn't allow the staff to slack on work either).

The micromanager in her was deeply irritated, but her inner sadist was secretly sad. A hidden (hidden?) but not a small part of her would miss the joys of the lab.

But if anyone asked? It was the scientist, in her hunger for knowledge that felt robbed of her time with her research (and her specimen).

Too many places to be - and most far (which, fair enough, this planet was in the periphery of the last colonization effort).

All that ship-traveling time. Dahle was only happy she would sleep through it all.