A Measure of Trust {closed}
The odd, mechanical thing begins to move its palm gently against the front of its squishy head, around and around and around. Then the thing starts making sounds. And the sounds are familiar.
Unlike the weaponized progeny that had been created by the pale, humanoid giants, the pale beasts did not have a Queen, did not follow the hive mind structure. In fact, they tended to be lone wolves and stay to themselves. But this didn’t mean they didn’t interact with others of their kind, or communicated. And they mainly communicated through hisses, clicks, and rumbles.
It is a light rumble, odd from the vocal cords of another being, but the Xenomorph sees this as a form of communication, their rib-cage shivering as a low rumble, a response, rattles out of their chest.
Though David wasn’t sure what this being would understand in terms of communication, most understood positive and negative reinforcement, in the forms of pain and pleasure. He also wasn’t certain of how intelligent or capable of sentient thought these creatures were, but with the little time that they had before the crew came looking, David wanted to learn as much as he could. At the response, David stopped humming, his smile growing, and he tried to mimic the sound, his own internal mechanics producing a slightly higher pitched sound akin to the rumble the creature had made.
David then wondered, since this being could communicate, what it must be able to understand. He gave a little whistle, a simple, brief intonation as he stroked his hand lengthwise along the top of its head. Up close, he could see the human traits this being possessed, suggesting that it must’ve been created with the host body’s DNA, but it wasn’t so similar that it didn’t clearly have its own genetic makeup combined with the pre-existing human genetics. How curious, He thought, withdrawing his hand so that he could slowly reach out to stroke the side of the creature’s face, mindful of its mouth. “What shall I call you then,” David murmured thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side a little, “Progenitor? How about that?” Though he doubted the being could understand what he was saying, David was not above the all too human need to give a name to a face. “The one from which all are made.” If he could, David would create more of these creatures from the bodies of the remaining humans, but for now, this one was more than sufficient.
It relaxes slowly into the touch, for the sound that the false living thing makes is so familiar to its own kind, that it feels like it is in it’s natural habitat...Well, not quite, but close enough.
