"Sir, I think you ought to see this."

Salvador glanced up from the egg he was leaning over, straightening unconsciously and making a few check marks and a quick note on the clipboard he held before moving through the row of incubators to where his assistant was standing. The eggs were doing...extraordinarily well, for edited, cultivated follicles. There had been, of course, the rough patches (that awful fiasco of a "touching," among others. Why did he ever allow those backwards Pernese imbeciles to impose their stupid customs on his work?), but overall he was pleased with the results. The shells were hardened, the embryos inside showing remarkable activity, and he sure beyond the shadow of a doubt that any day now, he would see the fruits of his labour come to a head.

Perhaps sooner than he had expected.

"Yes, what is it?" he asked tersely as he stopped beside the assistant, glancing at the man over the tops of his glasses as he waited for an answer that couldn't come quickly enough. "Have you ruined something else? Some idiot dropped the temperatures again?"

"N-no, Sir. But -" the assistant trailed off, pointing down at the egg. One of Salvador's personal favourites, the large, quiet greyish-green one. Innocuous, for the most part, but there was something about it. He'd seen them falling over themselves to run from it at that infernal Touching, and some of his assistants no longer touched the shell. He hadn't stopped, of course. But the egg was quiet for him. All the eggs were quiet for him - some more than others, of course, but none doing anything that he heard as more than a faint rumble. If it meant something, the scientist took no heed, preferring instead to assume that the creatures knew their place and gave him their proper respect. The species that had gone into the hybrids seemed to instinctively know a great deal - and Salvador was quite convinced they simply knew and respected their maker.

And so his attention turned to the grey-green egg with nothing beyond a slight raising of the eyebrows. Not much had changed. The shell (leathery, closer to a wher's, he had been told) was still the same as it had always been, still large, a bit lumpy, with that faint X-shape crossed into the top -

Ahhh. That was different.

There was movement. Faint movement along that crossed mark. As Salvador watched, a dark spot in the center of the X blossomed into a hole. The shell itself split along the cross, and for a moment he saw the barest flash of a dark muzzle as it pushed those four leaves up, ballooning ever so slightly outward. The edges of the egg curled over, spreading the top open like a flower. Salvador watched a moment longer, and then matter-of-factly slid the cover back from the incubator. "Right," he said. "We ought to collect the subjects, then. And get the rest of these uncovered. I don't want accidents happening to the babies. They're worth more than your salary on this voyage."

The assistant who had been attending the No One Can Hear You Scream egg nodded, shifting uneasily from foot to foot until Salvador's dark gaze returned to him. "Well don't just stand there," the geneticist remarked drolly. "Do something."

And the young man was off. Peregrine was, on occasion, blessed with an intercom system that extended at least to the Weyrleaders' weyrs, the Weyrbowl, and the dining hall. The assistant pushed the button, paused for a moment, and spoke with a quaver in his voice. "All Hybrid project candidates report to the Peregrine laboratories immediately. Your presence is needed. Immediately," he repeated for good measure before removing his finger form the button. He swallowed and glanced back at Salvador. The geneticist merely looked amused, his attention turning from the eggs to the massive, reddish-black creature curled in the back corner of the lab.

"Well...Alex?" he asked, pausing slightly on the name, as if it was somehow distasteful to him. "You've grown friendly with your native friends. Perhaps you ought to call them the old way, as well? Traditions are so important, after all."

The prototype hybrid stirred, nodded mutely to his creator, then broadcast the mental call out across the Weyr. All those who had been chosen to Stand would hear it. The clutch is hatching. Come to the Peregrine lab immediately. Hurry.


[[Obviously the Hatching is in the Peregrine labs. There are no Sands. There is no dress code. Feel free to bring guns but if you damage lab equipment or the hull Salvador will be very disappointed in you. If you are not a Candidate, you cannot be here unless you are Sh'ard. Try not to shoot the terriblings, they're worth a couple billion dollars apiece. Also don't be fucking stupid or your ass is grass.

Carry on!]]

No One Can Hear You Scream - Xenomorph ??? to Anna (Celaeno)
Met With A Terrible Fate - Skullkid Puck to Bernard (Moof)
If It Bleeds, We Can Kill It - Predator ??? to Samus (Dragonfire)
Would You Kindly - Bouncer betweened(?!)
Clang, Clang, Thunk, Scrape! - Pyramid Head Gustav to Taavetti (Ferret)
Assuming Direct Control - Reaper Nemesis to Chief (Mira)
Make Us Whole - Necromorph ??? to Vityai (Nozomi)
Nice Job Breaking It, Hero - GLaDOS ??? to Maggie (Cherie)
OurhdomZ Ouriel - DomZ Ciel to Salesta (shinska)
Paint the Lines - Shadow ??? to Kaylee (Azumi)
We Will Burn Our Own - Greene Elizabeth to Jax (giftwrapped)

So much for getting a meal. Anna had been just stepping foot into the dining hall when the call went out over the intercom, followed shortly by Alex's own call. The pair of alerts made her jolt slightly in surprise, but she recovered quickly enough, turning around and making a bee-line towards the laboratory instead. She wasn't about to take any chances with being late, not when being late seemed like it would up the risk of the hybrids being out of the shell and ready to bite the first moving object they saw.

Unfortunately, the immediacy also meant there wasn't any real time to grab anything protective, either. Even strapping a pillow to various key, easy to gut places seemed like it would be an all right token effort, but there was no opportunity. If she survived this, she was going to put in a suggestion that future hatchings involve body armor. Or at least large sticks. And possibly a last cigarette for the candidates.

Anna made her way into the laboratory, just stopping for a moment once she was clear of the door. There they were, just like they had left them during the touching-or maybe not. That egg, the one that seemed to want to murder everyone in their sleep-or out of it-definitely had changed. She was willing to take that as a cue that it was likely to be the first egg to produce something, and she was more than willing to keep her distance from whatever popped out. With another wary glance at the grey-green egg, she took the farthest spot she could from it, then turned to keep an eye on who all was entering. After the touching, she had to wonder how many of the candidates would actually show up.

Orders. He had orders, and therefore move.

The Chief put the report he was working on in the correct drawer and got up to leave, attempting to shoo Fluffy off when the experimental fire lizard hopped to his shoulder. It was getting to be habit by this point. The light-boned, feathery creature kept his balance and chirped, having no idea what was going on but sensing his favorite person's sudden wariness.

John gave the animal a forceful thought of go away so you don't get eaten, but beyond that he didn't have the time to deal with Fluffy right then. The blue lizard was still stubbornly warbling at him and refusing to let go of his shoulder armor when he reached the lab. The armor wasn't exactly a requirement, far from it. But he had a habit of wearing it around, it made him feel a little more... comfortable. At home. Even super soldiers had their security blankets. He did, however, leave his helmet. There was something about eye contact that these beasts needed. Not that he was hoping one would stick with him, but they were expensive and he'd been told to try.

He entered the room in silence and nodded to the staff, in particular eyeing Salvador, before taking up position. He'd left his rifle behind, but he was carrying his sidearm. He didn't trust these things.

"Harris," he said, nodding once to Anna.

It was appropriate, wasn't it, for the security team to make their presence known first in what was probably about to be some godforsaken mess?

At the call of the loudspeaker - and then the repeated echo by Alex - Samus took only a moment to breathe, slowly, before suiting up. Although that party had been only really good for inducing morning headaches, the conversation with the other three candidates - well, less with and more listened to - had at least given her the thought that armor, perhaps, would not be such a bad thing.

She had taken a welding gun to her suit, however, and made the expedient action of disabling the plasma cannon. At least it was still heavy enough to hurt if she had to punch something with it, but live firepower was probably a little unnecessary. And hazardous.

Remembering Rhaetia's words about eye contact, she left the helmet in her room. They wouldn't be tall enough to go for the head immediately, anyways. Thus, it was that she showed up in the labs, definitely a little more noticeable than usual in her bright-orange shell.

"Chief. Harris." She ducked her head in a nodded greeting, joining the two where they'd positioned themselves. "Ready for this?" She didn't know if she was. She didn't want to think about it, honestly. Her bright eyes trailed over the uncovered shells, her left hand instinctively travelling to clasp over the greyish turret that was her right. Even if it didn't work at the moment, it was still comforting.

Weyrleader Sh'ard was in her armor.

This, in and of itself, could have been cause for concern. The former Lieutenant Commander of the Peregrine had tucked her combat gear away on the day that she Impressed little silver Normandith, and it had lain waiting for her in a safe place ever since. And yet here she was. The old gear had been dusted off, shined up, and checked over; it had saved her life more than once, and a few years off left it none the worse for wear.

Normandith had insisted that she take... precautions, on this one. There were advantages to holding the Hatching indoors - for one, Sh'ard wasn't sure that the hybrid eggs would even survive outside of the incubators they'd been nestled in. (She didn't much feel like asking Salvador on the subject, not when each of those unborn lives was probably worth more than the crew.) For another, it meant no possibility of unfortunate light failure again... and easier to contain the situation and establish a perimeter, should Shit Go Terribly Wrong. Sh'ard was well prepared for Shit to Go Terribly Wrong. On the other hand, it meant tight quarters for fighting large quadrupedal things with teeth in, and not a lot of cover. And Normandith couldn't provide backup.

I'll be in the back of your head the whole time, he promised solemnly. Normandith would not ask her not to go. He knew why she was needed.

Everything will be fine, she assured him. The big guy would call in an aerial fucking strike for her, she was sure. (Nuke it from orbit; it's the only way to be sure.) But that wouldn't be necessary here.

Like Chief, she'd chosen to go with just the side-arm. Her armor was considerably lighter than his, of course, but the Weyrleader nonetheless went to stand by the big guy and Anna and Samus. Should she be standing with the Candidates? Probably not, but hell, she wanted to stand somewhere where she'd have a clean shot if she needed it. And that happened to be where the other two security folks were. Tradition would just have to shove it. If the eggs she'd touched were any indication, they'd know perfectly well to stay away from a rider. "Figures," she chuckled quietly, glancing around at the familiar faces first to arrive. "I knew we could count on you guys."

At the back of the room, Alex stood in silent vigil: watching, waiting, tense.

"Ready as I'll ever be," the Chief replied to Samus. Fluffy warbled and stretched his wings.

Go find Cortana. Shiny. Blue. Go find.

It was a last ditch effort on John's part to get him to leave. Fluffy tilted his head and peered at the Chief in confusion.

Go. Cortana.

The lizard made a tiny snorting noise, but he did take off. The Chief hoped that would keep him busy until this was over. He may not have liked being stuck with Fluffy, but he didn't want to see the little idiot eaten either.

He looked to Sh'ard. "It's what we're for, Ma'am."

With the midday meal done, it was theoretically time to relax. Or, in Taavi's case, stand around awkwardly with Vityai, and hope that their strange peace-treaty continued to hold. It was so... strange to actually get along with Bossy McNeverWillHaveSex. Well, not really 'get along'. More like 'cordially ignore each other in the hopes that the other might spontaneously combust'', which was probably the closest thing that Vit ever got to friendship (in Taavi's opinion).

Needless to say, the rumors were bountiful, going from the, 'they totally slept together' theory to 'they punched each other in the throat so they can't talk anymore'.

The point was, Taavi was glad to finally be out of the kitchen and avoiding Vityai,

Just as he was going through the Dining Hall, the intercom system blared, sending out a call to all the hybrid Candidates. If that wasn't enough, there was Alex's more private call; anyone who worked in the kitchens as a Baker became familiar with the hybrid, if only via Vityai's glowing praises. Taavi froze at the mental touch, half expecting the hybrid to be just as terrible as the eggs but...

Well, Alex was classy.

Before long, the Baker apprentice showed up, flour still on his shirt. He vainly tried to wipe it away, but really just managed to get it spread out more evenly. Welllll... the important thing was that he was wearing clothes. He tried a brilliant smile, but it immediately faded by a few molars at all the heavy equipment the other 'Candidates' were toting. It felt like everyone was prepared for the Hatching.

Eh. He shrugged and decided to roll with it. Presumably, since he wasn't laden down by heavy armor, he could run faster. That was the key there. He nodded respectfully at Sh'ard and, once again, gave a salute. He still had no idea what it meant, but offworlders did it. Therefore, it had to be cool, right?

"Chief, Samus," Anna said with a nod to the other entering candidates, looking a little relieved for a moment at seeing they were armed. She couldn't help but envy the armor a little, though. Why oh why did she have to feel like food when the call went out, instead of being around the security lockers?

"I think we'll do our best, ma'am," she said in response to Sh'rd, looking over at the Chief and Samus again. She highly doubted they'd bolt for the door if things got hairy-possibly kick a hybrid and-or Salvador in the teeth, yes, but running, no. "Honestly? I feel a little underdressed."

Well, if worse came to worse, there was always ducking and covering behind the armed proven asskicker.

It was a very busy day for Dr. Marguerite Henshaw. A very busy day that involved printing out her most recent report for Grace, and... well... Grace. Lots of Grace. Mostly, Maggie had the cigarette just waiting-- Grace was quite a busy woman, after all, and far be it for Maggie to get in her way. However, the requisite cigarette and notes were firmly within her grasp at all times. She'd had such fascinating observations to report about the hybrid Touching, after all, and it was better to have it ready sooner rather than later. And so it was that she was completely engrossed in a review of those very notes when--

"All Hybrid project candidates report to the Peregrine laboratories immediately. Your presence is needed. Immediately."

She stopped about halfway down the fifteenth page, her gaze suddenly drawn upward. Maggie was needed. Needed, in particular, for the Hybrid project-- oh dear, what could that be about--

Wait just a minute. Wait just a minute.

All Hybrid project candidates. All.

That could only mean one thing, and it was enough to get her moving the instant realization set in. The eggs were hatching. Perhaps she ought to have changed out of the customary labcoat, but she'd been working with sensitive materials, and there'd been DNA samples that required comparison; remarkable how different and yet how alike the Pernese humans and Terran humans were! Ah, but they weren't all Terran now, were they?

Truly remarkable.

"No, no, no Aiden, we can't come along today. Now, be a good lad and go back to bed, eh? There's a good boy." He wasn't supposed to be here to begin with, but he'd popped in when he'd sensed her growing excitement. "Back you go." ... And he was having none of it. None of it. He was an impressive Bronze, and he was going to be impressive and awesome right here, where he could watch the goings on... and...

The clutch is hatching. Come to the Peregrine lab immediately. Hurry.

Maggie sighed. "Aiden, I will give you a whole mess of treats if you do as I say." At this, a faint spark appeared in the firelizard's eyes. "Ssssssk," he informed her. Imperiously, he butted his head against her hand. "... Yes, and there'll be scritches too. But not right now, sweet." Right now she needed to head directly to the lab. Her samples could wait for later; they were carefully preserved, and would be readily accessible after the Hatching was over and done with.

And this was all so exciting. "Ssssssssssskkkrrr!" declared Aiden, mantling his wings impressively before spreading them once more, and simply vanishing between. "Show off," she called after him softly, before completely forgetting that she intended to take off the gloves and labcoat. With her usual ground covering strides, Maggie ambled off to the lab, which, realistically, was not very far at all.

"I haven't missed anything, have I?" Maggie asked when she arrived, tucking the notes away beneath her coat. The cigarette was similarly dealt with, going to reside within the breast pocket of her shirt with its fellows. Why, this was all so terribly exciting! ... Terrible was probably the operative word, wasn't it? Ah yes, such remarkable creatures, hybrids-- if Alex was anything to judge by, and her little experience with the eggs had been so enlightening, hadn't it?

Vityai hurried.

People knew who were up for the terriblings, who would have to run if need be, when the call came that the eggs were starting to crack. So while Alex's voice provided him with the necessary means to say, "I have to go", that loudspeaker in the mess area assisted with that. Vit passed off whatever it was he'd been doing to a coworker, grabbed his small side bag, and booked it to the Peregrine. Taavi, his fellow Bakercrafter, had apparently left at some point earlier. (Not everyone could be workaholics without any life, after all.)

He still wore his uniform, though he'd wiped his hands off before getting to the ship itself. Last thing he needed was to show up smelling like food without a weapon and - oh, hey look, Alex! And Taavi, and other people he knew, but mostly the big original hybrid. Vityai picked his way around the other people, keeping onto his goal towards his ugly hybrid friend.

"Hey, Alex." And out went his hand, if only to offer it out to show, look! No weapons! And to try and scritch at his eyebrow ridges. Who knew if he'd be allowed in a situation like this? "I brought you something. Are you hungry?"

Samus gave a grim sort of half-smile to Sh'ard, raising an eyebrow. "Wouldn't want to disappoint, ma'am." And, hey, that made three of them in protective gear. Surely this kick-ass team could take a few baby hatchlings if things turned ugly. Even if they were terrible, vicious, mind-eating baby hatchlings.

And there was one of the no-longer-drunken baker-candidates. She raised her free hand in a silent wave as he entered. Cooks, scientists, and security personnel. They'd picked a strange range of people to be here for this.

She gave a dry chuckle at Anna's remark, shifting. "Maybe they'll be more friendly to someone who doesn't look like they're about to attack them."

"Nothing's happened yet, you're on time," the Chief informed Maggie. He wasn't one to fidget even when his nerves were running high, else he would have been.

"They're hatchlings," he added to Anna. "I think three suits is overkill, if that makes you feel any better."

He got a brief sensation of looking! from Fluffy. It was still strange having a mental link with something, but at least he was now sure that the blue would stay away.

Vityai was here! Alex's grim posture relaxed somewhat, ears perking up and pale eyes brightening. He was understandably protective of 'his' Candidate, the one that he'd Searched personally. (Searchdragon? Searchhybrid? Searchterribling? Whatever.) But Vityai was good company, and he would Impress, and he would do so safely. Alex would make sure of that much.

Vityai, he greeted, butting his head up against the baker's outstretched hand. He would have issued a warning to stick close to me for your own safety, but it hardly seemed necessary. The man had come straight to him without needing to be told. And... he'd brought something?

I'm always hungry. Something smelled fucking amazing, and if Alex didn't have any manners he would have started nose-frisking Vityai to find it. Luckily he did have manners! Granted, one could argue that bringing delicious-smelling food to a potentially dangerous Hatching was possibly not safe... But that delicious-smelling food was for the adult hybrid who was going to bite anything that got too unruly. So it all evened out.

The call came out over the intercom while Bernard was chest-deep in the bowels of one of the hydroponics solvent pumps. The work was a welcome distraction from the well-timed news; it meant that he could hear the order while his full mental capacity was elsewhere, which in turn meant that he didn't have to process it immediately and didn't wet his pants in sudden terror. No, the fear was much slower to settle in, seeping through the cavities of his brain to poke at him with icy fingers. In the time since the unfortunate Touching, he had made every attempt to keep thoughts of the unborn hybrids from his mind, and had succeeded in large part but for the occasional gripping nightmare. Now...now, well, there was no ignoring it any longer.

It was Alex's mental call that finally attracted Bernard's attention. Unprepared for the voice, he jerked up, cracked the back of his head on the counter above the pump, and, unfazed--this had occurred at least once a day since his arrival on the Peregrine--he drew back and scrambled to his feet. Moments later, still clad in a soil-smudged labcoat, he found himself several hallways away and hurrying towards the hybrid room. For a beat, Bernard was very impressed with himself...and then he wondered if blindly obeying the order to walk towards his death was really an action to be proud of, and felt his stomach plummet back towards Very, Very Concerned.

He arrived to a room rapidly filling with Candidates, though no tiny hybrids seemed to have arrived. That was a relief. Or would he have preferred to be late? He greeted individuals with small bobs of his head and swiftly moved to join Maggie, who, as she usually did in the face of anything Pern, looked positively thrilled by the impending Hatching. Perhaps some of her confidence and excitement would rub off on him. ....It was doubtful, yes, but perhaps. "M-Maggie," he greeted simply with absolutely no attempt towards a smile. It was not worth losing the contents of his stomach to offer additional niceties.

The Chief was very to the point. That was an excellent quality, one which Maggie unfortunately did not possess. "Good. It would be most unfortunate to miss this," she said, contemplating the opportunity that was presented here. ... However, there was a note of caution, somewhere beneath the bubbly excitement and general YAY SCIENCE. Alex had been something of a handful early on, hadn't he? And, so far as Maggie could determine, Alex was on the nice end of the spectrum, hybrid-wise. There was no guarantee that any of the others would fall there, no matter how positive her general feeling had been about the eggs. True, some of them had been a bit overpowering, but that in and of itself had its uses and its place.

Being on time was exceptionally crucial, here. She didn't tend to make a habit of being late, as there was so much to study and observe. Minute details could be lost if careful attention wasn't paid to one's timeliness and orderliness. Maggie tended to veer on the side of caution where that was concerned, although that sense of caution did not pervade all of her interactions or approaches.

"Hello, Alex," she said politely, inclining her head to the hybrid. My, wasn't he just a fascinating individual! So young, and yet... so very advanced. The very fact of his growth and advanced mentality reminded her firmly of the comparative development that she'd been contemplating on and off. What was hybrid development like, as compared to Homo sapiens sapiens? And could they really judge off of a single individual? No, probably not. Drat. Well, there were more hybrids about to be hatched, after all. Maybe if she had words with the right person... ah, best not to stress the hatchlings overly much.

Ah! There he was! "Oh Berny, hello! Why, we're matching!" And wasn't that delightful? She beamed at him, and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Prompt as usual, I see. Though... you're all over with dirt. Neglecting yourself in your studies, are you?" No, no, probably it was more likely that he was simply engrossing himself in them. "Err... hmmn. Good to see you," she added, noticing that he didn't seem quite so excited as she was. And maybe he was right to approach things as he did; certainly, Maggie had no basis for comparison, and ought to approach things with a good bit more caution.

There weren't enough cusswords in the world to adequately express the feelings that ran through Jax when the first call came through on the Peregrine intercom. The second call, beamed directly into his head, was just icing on the cake, and Jax jolted out of his chair with a muffled "Fuck!" when Alex's voice entered his mind. He would never get used to that. ...Which was kind of fantastic, when you really sat down to think about it. He'd be stuck with it forever if he managed to attach one of the awful things.

That was a great thought.

Alarmed by his distress, Rose tightened her claws in his shirt and ran her muzzle through his hair, crooning softly to calm him down. For a moment, Jax stayed tense, but the soft purring of the little green firelizard calmed him somewhat, and he sighed. "Okay, pretty girl," he told the green, reaching up to rub her head with a finger before disentangling her from his shoulder, "you stay here so nothing eats you." The green grumbled, but when Jax set her on his desk, she made no move to climb back onto him. Jax stood up. That was that, then. He was to report immediately. He raked his eyes once over the desk, looking for anything he had that might be useful. His gaze passed over most of his little gadgets (equal parts his own doing and things from David) and stopped on the bottle of whisky. ...Immediately could wait a second.

He poured a shot, tossed it back, and reached for his gun.

And that was why Jack was a few seconds behind the crew already assembled, strapping on his shoulder-holster as he entered the lab. He didn't even look at the eggs (didn't want to look at the eggs) and chose instead to make a beeline for familiar faces. Mostly the Peregrine faces thus far, which as far as Jax was concerned was perfectly fine, and the ex-con made a beeline for one face in particular, wedging himself between Sh'ard and Chief. "Hey," he said quietly. "Not late to the party yet, right?"

It was the No One Can Hear You Scream egg that had stirred first, alerting Salvador to the Hatching's beginning. But whatever was inside the grey-green egg, it was content to wait for the moment. Instead, it was the Met With A Terrible Fate egg that hatched first. For all the tense anticipation in the room, it was an unceremonious event: the little brightly colored egg cracked, split, and spilled out a tiny bundle of limbs and egg goop onto the lab's pristine floor.

The newborn hybrid was strange, in more ways than one. Where Alex was mostly one shade of red-tinged black all over, this little gangly thing was - multicolored. The primary hue was still dark, a purplish-black sheen, but overlaid with tinges of red, yellow, green... The overall effect was unsettling, even gaudy, like the little creature had been painted. It didn't help that the creature was covered in short, nubby yellow spikes around its face, along its shoulderblades just in front of the wings, and down its lower back... or that the blunt-muzzled face was dominated by two enormous, unblinking reddish-orange eyes.

It flopped over on gawky, too-thin limbs - its first attempt at standing ended in the ungainly creature tripping over its own feet and landing squarely upside-down. Unsteadily it stood, spikes rattling together as it moved, staring curiously at the Candidates as if surprised by the scene. All this armor for one tiny creature, hardly bigger than a blue wherlet? But most definitely not a wherlet - for when its maw opened from ear to ear in a strange parody of a grin, those were definitely sharp, white little teeth in the hatchling's mouth. It chirruped once - chirruped again, apparently liking the sound of its own voice, and tilted its head so far to the right that it looked like it was going to snap its own neck. And then it warbled, an eerie ululating cry nonetheless reminiscent of laughter.

There! There! There, was the Skull Kid's person! With a suddenness that would no doubt alarm the watchful security team, and a speed that belied the newborn's earlier clumsiness (dear god there were legs going every possible direction) the first hybrid to hatch made a beeline straight for a certain offworlder.

Bernard!

The Skull Kid butted up against his legs in delight. That's your name, right? I heard it - inside your head. Bernarrrrrrrrd. I like the sound of that. It 'laughed' again - no, not it. He. The mindvoice was high and fluting, but definitely male. The botanist would at once feel the bonds of Impression when those huge eyes locked onto his, and yet there was a sensation of... incompleteness. Something else was needed, to cement the bond and make it whole. I don't think I have a name. Will you give me one?

Vityai almost smiled, his lips even twitching upwards at the corners for a brief moment. He scritched at Alex's eyeridges with nary a blink, his free hand reaching for his side bag. Only then did he stop the scritching, and that was to pull out two pastries just for the searchterribling. Neither were larger then his hand, but there happened to be two, and both for him!

"Yours. Don't bite off my hand, okay?" His nose wrinkled, but that almost-smile was there again, and he leaned close to his friend. Sad was the day when a hybrid made better company then his own fellows. "... How do you think this will all be going down? I can't hit one with my bag if it tries to rip my arm off, can I?"

And then one actually hatched. No lie, Vit jumped, his eyes wide and on the somewhat... pointy little creature that just popped out. His eyebrows went up and up, but he remained where he was. Friendly little chit, wasn't he?

That was alright, then.

"Were you that small?"

The Chief would've told Jax that he too was on time, but that's when an egg split.

The hatchling was... he wasn't sure, but it definitely had teeth already and he'd take that as indicative of things to come. Didn't whers and dragons hatch out before their main teeth came through? How long had these been in the shell... He wasn't sure if this meant they developed more quickly or had just been given more time to grow.

At least this one didn't try to take a piece out of anyone, and for that he was grateful. It seemed to stick to Bernard almost immediately, and he wasn't sure whether to offer congratulations or not.

Instead he settled for watching the movements of the No One Can Hear You Scream egg. He had a bad feeling about it.

"Looks like you got here just in time," Samus noted to Jax, as the first egg cracked all the way open and deposited its cargo to the floor in a rather gross little pile. If he even wanted one, that was. Maybe he'd rather preferred to be elsewhere.

This one had been the laughing one, hadn't it? Samus eyed it a little warily, bringing her arm to train on it, before sheepishly remembering that, right, it wouldn't work, and lowering the cannon. Not that it seemed to be a real problem child, anyways. When it rushed at Bernard, she tensed - but nothing to be truly alarmed about.

Full of teeth, though. That was something to keep mind of for the next ones.

Her attention wandered back to the remaining twitching eggs. One down, ten to go.

Anna's attention snapped to hatching egg, her body tensing for a moment. Now it was time to see what happened, and how many bandages would be needed for the aftermath. She found herself holding her breath as the thing broke shell and suddenly took off, but she held her ground. Moving around and possibly getting in the hatchling's way wouldn't do anyone any good. Once she saw the hybrid stop, she let out the breath, eyeing in curiously.

...So that was what a baby hybrid looked like. It was...cute, almost. Not so much from its looks-it was just as gawky and odd-looking as the dragonets had been-but from the way it acted. Maybe it was a good sign that one of the more pleasant eggs had hatched first. Maybe they had all mellowed a little since the touching.

Or maybe the nastier ones were waiting until everyone had a false sense of security.

There had been no further movement from the No One Can Hear You Scream egg. It was as if the creature inside had instigated the Hatching but had no interest in participating itself. Salvador's assistant glanced nervously at it, but it did nothing. And he clasped his hands behind his back, coughed quietly, and retreated ever-so-slightly behind his superior. Salvador, meanwhile, had turned his gaze to the next egg, which had begun rocking some time around the ungainly little mess's eruption and Impression to - ah. Bernard. Salvador's expression changed slightly, there. He had included the man on a whim. Apparently it had been an accurate whim. That, at least, was good. But he'd have time to think about that later. No, his attention for the moment was focused on the If It Bleeds, We Can Kill It egg.

Its motions were slow and methodical, the typical persistence of a dragon or wher trying to break itself free. After about a minute of rocking, it built momentum enough to tip itself onto its side, a chip of shell cracking off as the egg hit a corner of the incubator. And then there was a talon slicing through the membrane underneath, but it withdrew, and then a momentary flash of teal eye, and then nostrils. And then the muffled thunk of what was most likely a hybrid hatchling headbutting the egg into submission.

The gap in the shell widened, and the thumps continued until it finally cracked completely, spilling its contents undignifiedly onto the ground in a spray of vermiculite. For a moment there was a bundle of bewildered horrible creature, all legs and teeth and strange facial structures and spikes - and then it vanished. There was a slight shimmer in the air for a moment, but then that, too was gone. Whatever it was (and whereever it was), it wasn't planning on going for the Candidates just yet.

Okay, so another baby had hatched. And vanished.

There was only one thing to do in this situation. (Well, technically two, but PANIC wouldn't help.) And this was definitely a security issue.

"Chief? Any orders besides stand really still?"

Oh. Shit.

"Nobody. Move."

The Chief strained his ears, listening for signs of movement, talons on tile, anything. It had seemed... afraid? This egg, to his memory, had not been one of the bad ones.

But either way, it had vanished and he didn't like that.

"Everyone listen. And watch. It's a hatchling, if it's anything like the other one it isn't even half graceful yet."

Ah, and speaking of the ten... There was number two. The warrior egg, Samus remembered, keeping a watchful eye on the egg as it battered its way out of the shell. And - oh, huh, that one was certainly a little more alien in looks.

...Did it just vanish?

"Shit," she cursed, nothing more than a mutter audible to those closest to her, as she raised herself to the balls of her feet. A hatchling you couldn't see was far more trouble than one you could. "...I'm guessing everyone else forgot their x-ray tech, too."

Was that supposed to have been a joke, Samus? But she certainly hadn't thought this would be a trick of theirs.

But... Somehow she wasn't overly concerned. She remembered the feel of its mind. It hadn't wanted her to shoot the hatchlings. Well, of course it hadn't, it was one of them. Still...

Apparently, they all got there just in time to see the newest rainbowrific horror unleash itself upon the world. For a wher-dragon thing that looked as though it had been vomited up by butterflies and wildflowers, it was actually pretty sharding cute. Taavi watched with interest as the small creature-----strange how, in an egg, it had seemed so terrifying but now it was cute-----splayed and wobbled along, trying to figure out this whole 'walking' thing.

It didn't take long to learn, he noticed, as it launched itself at one of the offworlders. It would have been nice to coo and aww at the adorable little thing, but the world of terror had no patience for that. Nope, it wanted screams.

And so it made another terribling, all fangs and claws, hatch.

And then it disappeared.

"...fuck, it just went ninja on us," Taavi muttered. Again, he had only the loosest idea of what the word actually meant, but he was pretty sure it meant something like 'vanish'. He shuffled uneasily until one of the security guards ordered everyone to stop moving. No sounds, no rustling, nothing.

...

Silence didn't sit well with Taavi, though. "...Alex? Can you... I don't know... smell him? Her?" Hey, it was worth a try. Rumor had it that the hybrid could smell the flavor of a meatroll from all the way across the Weyr.

Oh, she was talking. Well of course she was, she was Maggie. And he did like Maggie very much, and he really didn't want to be rude, and how he wished he hadn't remembered to eat breakfast that morning... "Yes, we are, a-aren't we?" Maggie was already well past his rhetorical response, but Bernard felt that it was warranted nonetheless. Maybe focusing on small talk would calm him down. "I've been very busy this morning," he explained, eagerly latching on to a safe topic. "We're trying to integrate some of Pern's native plants into the onboard hydroponics, but we're starting with seedlings, so I've been repotting--"

There was a crack and a wet plop, and Maggie was spared the full explanation by the arrival of the first infant hybrid. It was a skeletal, gawky thing of odd, clashing colors and rattling yellow spikes, far, far too many pointy teeth in a decidedly unnerving grin--and eyes. Massive, unblinking orange eyes, so like the markings that he'd seen on the egg shell. He recognized it, he realized, and the first egg that he had touched, the one that had laughed at him. Just as he was beginning to think that the Laugher couldn't be anything too bad, the hybrid--ohgodaboveitwasfast!

Bernard took an involuntary step backwards as the little bundle of elbows and spikes charged his way, but the hybrid's delighted greeting stopped him dead in his tracks. Miraculously, he didn't even flinch when the little beast ran straight into his legs, but simply stared down at the hybrid, mouth opening and closing several times in his best grouper impression. Impression struck him like--no, bricks were painful, this was...something, (Really, he wasn't eloquent at the best of times. How could he be expected to be now?) and he sunk to one knee to consider the young hybrid, smiling involuntarily in shock. "Yes... Yes, I'm Bernard. I'm glad you..." He trailed off, utterly at a loss for words, then cleared his throat. Name? It had taken Bernard a solid week to settle on something for his blue flit, and here this little hybrid with its Big, Big eyes was.... "...Puck?"

The hatchling's high, delighted laugher accompanied a distinct feeling of right, and Bernard, pleased and positively beaming, had a brief moment of absolute peace before the little beast was off again, a streak of flailing limbs tearing towards the nearest good smell in the room--Taavi. Puck. Puckpuckpuck. Bernarrrrrrrrrrd, this one is hungry and this one smells sooooo good. The tone was a whine, but the whine of one who knew he was whining and wasn't yet actually upset (accompanied, naturally, by the threat of becoming upset if his demands were not met). In the time it took Bernard to climb to his feet, the gaudy terribling had reached Taavi and was circling the baker with his head twisted all but upside-down to view him more easily, reminiscent of nothing less than a circling shark of old Earth with that twisted, toothy grin.

Somewhere in the midst of all of this, another egg had hatched; Bernard completely failed to notice, intent, instead, on preventing the hungry infant from making a snack of Taavi's ankle.

The first hatchling was not terrible. It was also not from one of the eggs that Jax had touched. Which meant that there was still plenty of potential for more terrible. But still, as the little creature went for Bernard (yay? Was that a yay? Jax felt like it should be a yay but somehow it just didn't seem very yay to him) he allowed a moment of slight relaxation. Maybe it wasn't going to be quite as horrible as he thought it was going to be. Maybe it was all going to be okay.

And then another egg hatched and the thing that fell out of it was what the fuck and then it was gone and there was an invisible maneating deathbeast on the loose. "There is not," Jax said under his breath, gritting his teeth and going deathly still, "enough whisky in the world to make this all right." Where the fuck was it and what were you supposed to do with something that would grow up to be an independent wher-eating monster that could turn invisible at will!? THIS WAS NOT ALL RIGHT.

Slowly, smoothly, he pulled the pistol from its holster, taking it in both hands and pointing it at the ground, fingers off the trigger. For a moment, he considered his next course of action. Then, still moving smoothly and painfully slowly, he thumbed off the safety and then cocked it. He had felt what some of them could do in the shell. No way he was going to take any chances at this point.

Pastries! Wher pastries! Vityai had remembered! Good baker, best friend! Alex purred in delight, then licked both of the little pastries up out of Vityai's hand in one go. Nom nom nom baked goods. Delicious. Already he was feeling better about this clutch; the first egg to hatch had apparently Impressed successfully, which was a good sign. Honestly, up until that point, there was some doubt as to whether any of the hybrids would Impress at all. But it seemed that this batch were perfectly capable of bonding, and no one was screaming in horror or agony yet, so everything was going well!

I don't know, Alex admitted to Vityai's question. I can't remember much from that far back. He didn't think he'd been that small... But then again, it was hard to judge such things in an unbiased way.

And then another baby hatched... and vanished from sight.

For those straining to hear, they would catch the click of claws on floor - but not the infant's. A much bigger set of claws. Slowly, without urgency or overt threat, Alex was rising to all fours. Just... to be sure. Those strange, fixed-color blue eyes focused unswervingly on a single point of seemingly empty air. But he didn't seem to be on guard or moving to attack yet, just keeping an eye on things. Unfortunately for everyone else, it wouldn't exactly be possible to keep an eye on Alex to see where he was looking and watch the point he was looking at at the same time. Not easily, anyway.

Everyone shut up, was his blunt response. It wasn't meant harshly, and the words carried no anger or malice in them. It was just a command. After a minute, though, the hybrid relaxed. We're good for now, he broadcast to the rest of the Candidates who did not have the benefit of thermal vision.

Why, wasn't that just wonderful? Yes, yes it was. "My goodness, Berny. Look at you! How fortuitous that your little friend should arrive almost immediately." Maggie certainly thought it was wonderfully good luck. And, well, he seemed so friendly! Wouldn't you just look at all of those... sharp little teeth? See? Friendly. "Interesting little fellow--" Hmmn. Alex wanted them to be quiet. Being quiet was--

And then it registered that that brand new, unpartnered hybrid... had just vanished. Literally. Into thin air! Well now, that was a new trick. Unless he'd gone between? It had gone between? Maggie wasn't entirely sure how to tell what gender a hybrid was. There didn't seem to be any particular pattern of coloration, did there? She chewed her lip, and watched Puck, curiosity combining with her intention to do as she'd been asked to form a new, diverted whole.

There was that voice again. Alex did like to make his little announcements, didn't he? And he didn't seem terribly hampered by the fact that none of them were bonded to him. Hmmn. "Wonderfully intriguing creature," she marveled, attention returning to Puck when it seemed that the danger had, for the moment, passed.

"Invisibility is a new trick," she remarked, eyes on the hatchling she could see. "Do you supposed he can manage it, too?" she asked Bernard, who by all rights was every bit as distracted as he ought to have been, considering. Poor fellow probably would have his hands full for some time, wouldn't he? Why, this was awfully convenient. Surely Berny wouldn't mind the occasional interview? It was a thrilling prospect, truly, and she considered it as she stood there, taking in the view.

It disappeared. The thing had been a wee bit terrifying, full of teeth and that teal flash, and then it disappeared. Vityai tensed next to Alex (apparently his best friend, which was awesome, because, really, who wouldn't like that), face hardening up into something more towards his normal stern mask.

"You're an idiot." He hissed at Taavi, waspish. "Ninja-ing is jumping, not disappearing." Ninja'ing, of course, is what people said when they hopped in, grabbed food, said 'HA! I'm a ninja!' and ran out of the kitchens. That was Ninja'ing. Vityai knew. And he'd have continued on with that trek too if it weren't for the fact Alex got up and told everyone to shut their pieholes. So Vityai did, lips pursed and eyes scanning the area directly in front of them.

they were clear, and he relaxed, but that meant he had a hand on Alex's hide as some sort of anchor, lips twisting up into a scowl. "I'm not sure a baby hybrid disappearing is something to be called 'good', Alex." Vityai murmured the words more then anything, and patted at his side. "...Maybe it's scary in the same way you were scary. It's a baby."

Such an optimist, Vityai. And Taavi? He shot Taavi a sharp Look just on the offchance Taavi disagreed with him, until he realized that the little brand new hybrid? Was circling around his not-quite-a-friend. Vityai cleared his throat.

"Er. Taavi?"

John did not move. He relaxed somewhat and his hand shifted away from his holstered pistol, where it had drifted out of force of habit. He strained his ears anyway. Alex could say whatever the hell he liked, there was still a small and probably very hungry thing in here with sharp teeth. It was around people, and not all of them had armor that could ward off teeth like the ones that showed when the first hatchling opened its jaws.

At least that one was being a reasonably good citizen so far. He could live with that.

He sighed.

"C'mon out, kid. Don't jump on anybody and we should all get along."

Eyes still warily roaming the lab for a sign of the disappeared hatchling, Samus was struck by a thought. "Did it... teleport?" she suggested. What did the Pernese call it again? Beyond? No, that wasn't right. Alex seemed to have a better idea about where it was, though, judging by his... reassurances.

Well. That was fine. Just so long as it didn't try to sneak up behind someone and gut them, things would be good.

Her attention was drawn, however, by the sound of a click, very nearby. "Jax," she said, slowly, turning her shoulders to the man. "Don't be stupid. This one's fine."

Yanno how much I like a good joke, kiddo.

Uh-huh. said B'lank, trying to keep his footsteps light, barefoot in the pristine Peregrine floor. He hadn't ever been in the ship-station-whatever before, never really felt like it, and his first visit usually would have involved his brother, but A'non was absent and Abby-girl didn't much want to drag the other twin into it. That should have been the first clue that things were bad.

B'lank paused just long enough to pull some socks on (so no one could claim his feet were naked, especially since he knew the rules of nakedness) before edging himself so very gingerly inside. Tall and redheaded wouldn't do much to hide him, despite the slouched nature, but a guy couldn't be faulted for trying.

And yanno that sneaking and peeking and all that fun business is my thing.

It's why you picked me. He slouched in the shadows as much as possible, hearing just the edges of some guy talking to nothing and no visible babies exceeeept for that super sharding ugly thing around one of the bakers. (The cute baker. The one with the body.)

Sure, let's go with that. Abbelloth shifted from her place in their weyr, nose hidden under her claws and all three eyelids shut. Her tail flicked. But this is the most unfunny joke ever because if those things eat you I'll forever be bored and it'll be all your fault.

Nothing's gonna happen, Abs.

Come back and let's set some fires. Cast forgot what happened last time and we needa remind him, yanno? Geddit? Or there's this new joke I figured out--

B'lank's face twisted into a grin, eyes bright as he leaned over some random persons shoulder to stare at the hatchling and the eggs and shards they were ugly. Weird weird. Hush hush hush. This is brilliant and I'm not doing anything worth punishing for. Just looking.

You realize that when I I am telling you that this is a bad idea, dimglow. I am up for almost anything else.

Imma gonna set your claws on fire, girlie.

Um. There was a terrible thing circling him, Taavi realized. He really shouldn't have done that, he really shouldn't have come direct from the kitchens. But that was hardly his fault; the scientists said to come immediately. Alex said to come immediately. And, even if orders weren't Taavi's favorite thing in the world, he was pretty damn certain it was a good idea to obey the very large hybrid.

He would have moved away or tried to shoo the little hybrid away, but then Alex's order made a lot of sense. Don't move. Maybe it couldn't see you if you couldn't move? Great. So there was an invisible hybrid, one was eying him up with those frozen red eyes, and Vit was arguing over the definition of 'ninja'.

"No, Vit. Ninja is when you move around unseen. Those offworlders are always making jokes about, 'haha, here's a parade ninja-ing!' when waving around an empty picture. What, did you think they just jumped out of the way of the flashy-lighty thing?" That is, camera?

Yep. It was probably a new record. Barely said more than a dozen words to each other and they were already bickering.

"What the flying fuck are you doing?"

Having one dragonrider in the room was acceptable. One armored, Weyrleading dragonrider with a sidearm who was capable of defending herself was fine. But as much as Sh'ard adored the idiot weyrling twins when they were pulling harmless pranks, now - with a still-invisible baby wandering around the room and more eggs shaking impatiently - was not the time.

In fact, now was a time when a B'lank prank was GOING TO GET SOMEONE FUCKING KILLED.

Sh'ard didn't waste time. She walked straight over to B'lank, seized the unfortunate weyrling by the collar, and gave him the full double barrels of the Pissed Weyrleader Stare. Yes, boy. You are in deep, deep shit. And he would be in further deep shit if he did not comply with Sh'ard marching him right the fuck out of the room and back the way he came.

The Assuming Direct Control egg made almost no noise as it hatched. The patchwork shell parted with little resistance along invisible seams, already weakened by the beast inside. There was no loud crack, only a wet schlick of the hatchling sliding free of its prison and the soft click of claws hitting the lab floor. This one did not stumble or fall over or gaze around the laboratory in surprise. It was already graceful - already imbued with purpose from the moment of its hatching. Already deadly.

There was something wrong with it - with the shape of its head. A curiously elongated skull, that seemed to end in... where was its mouth? Did it not have a mouth? But it certainly had claws, and it was bigger than the Skull Kid had been, and much more solidly built. The black hide was marked with lines of blazing white-gold, like staring at hot magma through cracks in the surface of volcanic rock. Yellow-gold eyes fixed on the pair closest to the lab's entrance; the weyrling was unwanted, an intruder with a dragon already attached to his mind, unavailable for Impression. But vulnerable. The other - her hand had grazed the egg's shell, at the Touching, as it had with the others. And the Reaper knew the feel of that mind. Weyrleader. A will that had refused to bend - as others in the room had, and the Reaper remembered each and every one of them. But those others had not been so foolish as to turn their backs on the Reaper to deal with errant weyrlings.

It moved fast, and without any hint of hesitation or infant confusion. B'lank would be struck first, sharp claws furrowing bloody lines across the man's hip. And as it moved, its maw split open in some horrible parody of a blossoming flower, six tentacles where a mouth should be, but a maw with razor-sharp teeth behind those writhing appendages. With the benefit of surprise and weight and momentum it managed to throw Sh'ard off-balance and down to the floor, tentacled jaws clamping around the hand that reached instinctively for her pistol. Thus far the teeth and claws gained no purchase on her armor, and the Weyrleader did not look alarmed so much as surprised... and pissed.

She punched it twice in the face. It didn't let go.

And then there was a momentary skitter of claws, a shimmer of the light reflected off what was obviously not just a patch of air, and something small but solid went barrelling into its sibling, knocking it off-balance and sending it sprawling. And then the shimmer vanished, leaving in its place the strange-looking baby everyone had been trying to talk down. It was big - bigger than Skull Kid, definitely, and solidly built, a bulldog puppy rather than a colt - and black, with only the faintest dappling on its hide that shone bright yellow-brown in the lab's fluorescent light. Not that anyone would be noticing the colouring, because the thing had mandibles. Mandibles that flared, stretching a web of skin between them and making the hatchling's face look twice as wide as it had been a moment ago. It snarled.

The Predator was pissed.

The Chief didn't even think. That would have required time. He was after the large, magma-patterned hatchling almost immediately after it rushed Sh'ard, and he didn't quite register the other hatchling piling in on the assist.

"Stop." The Chief gripped the thing firmly, twisting behind the hybrid with an arm firmly under its throat, holding it against his chest.

It wasn't a threat, it was a promise. It was an order. Hatchling, you better damn well stop.

"Stop now."

Oh, hell.

(And at the same time: now this was more like it. This was the mission she'd come here for, not patrolling 'round empty ship corridors chasing after tunnelsnakes in the ducts.)

As the direct control hatchling attacked the stupid, stupid dragon-kid and Sh'ard, Samus swiftly interspersed herself in front of Jax, the gun, and the other less-armored candidates gathered 'round that area. Chief looked like he had things under 'control' for the moment. Just make sure the idiot with a gun doesn't off the hatchling before it has a chance. Hopefully none of the other awful things would take this moment to break hell completely and totally fucking loose.

Nice little distraction by the rapidly appearing - and mandible'd - hatchling, though. If she weren't busy trying to keep an eye on the remaining eggs for any incoming threat and the combative little shit that Chief was 'hugging' so nicely, she would've approved.

Salesta watched as nothing happened for a long time. People just stood around talking to each other and then suddenly some action. A baby Hatched and disappeared. Did it Between? Salesta knew nothing of Terriblings and had only been invited to Stand. What was going on? Salesta did not know. Then a fight broke out and Salesta stood back. How was she suppose to Impress one of these things? Feed it like a Firelizard? Have a personality it likes? Salesta wished that Terrblings had been around awhile so she could at least know what to do, but she couldn't complain. All she could do was stay silent and wait.