Morris looked uncertain as Fern stumbled onto the mat and adopted a shaky guard.

'Is she okay?'

'Probably not. Just see if you can get her to respond.'

'...okay.' The man gave Fern a small bow, and she responded in kind. Well, that was something, at least. Maybe she remembered some training.

Morris approached, like she was a nervous animal, and he telegraphed a very obvious punch. Foster could tell immediately that it was going to land short.

'Hai!' Fern threw a block with her right forearm, then leaned close and drove the fist at his chest. Surprised as he was, he almost didn't manage to block. He stepped back, wary now.

'Almost tagged me there,' he joked. Fern didn't respond. Her stance was a little more solid now, and Foster watched carefully. His combat computer was recording everything, ready to analyse later. With his nerves jacked up to fight-speed he saw her tense, bunching her muscles before launching at the instructor with a flying kick,

A literal flying kick. She was way out of range but soared across the gap anyway. Morris ducked out of the way, and tried to land a blow in passing. Fern blocked, spun in place to face him, and then did something totally unexpected.

She reached for a sidearm. Foster blinked. Fern wasn't armed, her hand failed to find a handgun that she was clearly expecting. She froze, shocked, as she crashed out of whatever memory she was living through. Her eyes glazed and her stand fell slack.

Morris glanced at her hands, nervously. 'Was she about to try and shoot me?'

'Looks like. We'll call that a draw for now.'

= = =

Meghan was up next. She stared at Morris with undisguised hunger, and Foster was obliged to get right up in her face to get her attention. 'No. Not food. Not food. You will not eat any living organisms. You eat when food is provided. Do you understand me?'

She clearly did, but she wasn't happy about it. He made a mental note to track down some science goons to clue him in.

'Now get out there and fight.'

'Why?'

'Same as I told Fern: practice.'

'Why fight, if not for food?'

'Because I said so.'

Savael yawned. 'She means, why do humans fight each other.'

'Because sometimes you have to, and practice makes perfect.'

The small dark girl chuckled darkly. 'No amount of practice will do that, Fool.'

Morris was game, at least. He bounced on his toes and shadow boxed in Meghan's general direction. Foster sighed. She wasn't engaging at all.

'Meghan!' he yelled. She looked at him. 'Fight back. Attack!'

Quick as a flash, she leapt on him and began to fall apart. Snakes detached from the girl and dropped free, slithering out of the jumpsuit and leaving it limp. He screamed as the colony pinned him to the mat, using their telekinesis to secure him. Foster fan over and yelled at her to stop.

Grudgingly, and slowly, the snaked reformed into a girl.

Morris leapt to his feet and patted himself all over. There was no damage, no bites, not even a nibble, and he eventually got his breathing under control.

Foster herded Meghan back into the line, making a mental note not to spar with the alien. He could see why the project considered her a shock troop - if he hadn't specifically instructed her not to eat the instructor he'd be bones by now.

Foster turned to the last member of his team, their leader.

'Okay, Savael, you're up.'

'No.'

'Whaddya mean, "no"? Get up there and defend yourself.'

'I refuse to take part in this exercise. It is beneath me.'

'You'll do as you're told. Move!'

She glared, but sullenly marched out onto the mat. She fixed her dour gaze on Morris and spoke. 'Strike me and die.'

She folded her arms, and Morris raised his eyebrows. 'Was that a threat?'

'I do not threaten. It was a Promise.'

'Heh. Okay kid, I'll take my chances.' He skipped forward and lashed out his leg in a long, low sweep. Savael didn't make any move to resist, but Morris never completed the move. He flopped onto his side and lay still. Savael sniffed.

Foster blinked. 'Morris?'

Nothing. Savael turned to regard Foster, her eyes hard.

Foster ran his sensors over the guy, then ran to his side to check his pulse. Nothing.

'What did you do?' he demanded.

'Nothing. I offered him a choice. He chose... unwisely.'

'He's fuckin' dead!'

'Good.'

'Jesus...' He activated his internal cellphone and called for help. A medic, a coroner, somebody. He Yelled at Savael to step away, sit on the mat, hands on top of her head. She grudgingly complied, objecting that she said she didn't want to fight, and it wasn't her fault. She had merely offered the man a way to end his repulsive existence and he had seized it willingly.

'Sir!' Nikoli yelled for his attention, but he ignored her. This was already as bad as it could get - his team had killed a staff member. And worse, she was utterly unrepentant.

'Sir!' Nikoli sounded distressed, and he rounded on her.

'What?'

The tall girl merely pointed, her eyes wide, and Foster heard a familiar wet scraping sound.

'Meghan! God fucking damnit that is NOT food!'

Chapters...