First draft
The alien before her eyes was strangely human-like. There was a vague resemblance to the monster she'd faced shortly before. They were both muscular, hairless, green-skinned and tall, though the creature in the hologram was at least two feet shorter. Just like Gibson's monster, the alien had vertical pupils but no tail. Moreover, its limbs were in proportion and its skin looked soft not scaly. But the biggest difference was that Dia could see the intelligence in the alien's eyes.
This isn't a dumb monster.
No matter how much she looked at it, it was obviously clear that Gibson's lizard was just a knockoff, and the creature before her eyes was the real deal.
"Fascinating creatures, aren't they?" Gibson's creepy voice woke her from her reverie. "Regrettably, we know so little of them."
"Are you..." She started to speak, cleared her throat and swallowed hard before she could find her voice again." ...are you trying to say that's how they look like?"
"Correct."
Dia was too stunned to speak. She tried to compose herself and calmly analyze the situation. Except for the children's bodies, the olo-pictures, her medical records - everything she had seen so far - could be forged.
Yes, it's all fake. It has to be!
Clinging to the hope that everything he'd said was a lie, Dia said, "No, I don't believe you."
"I knew you wouldn't, but that's alright. I came prepared." He said and once again his image flickered when the remote started projecting a new hologram.
"What's this?" Dia asked, her voice full of suspicion.
"Just look."
Dia felt a wave of unease, a pinching sensation in her chest warning her to run away, leave the place without turning back, and yet, she didn't. She stood there and looked. She saw two men, both in lab coats, standing close to a monitor. The one on the left, the older of them, was in his fifties, his hair stranded with white, but in good physical shape, while the other was at least fifteen years younger and twice as fat.
"...breached our defenses." The younger man said, his voice betraying his agitated stated of mind. "They have started boarding the station!"
"I think they are here for him." A female voice said. "But how did they find out?"
Whoever was speaking was outside the frame, but Dia would have recognized that voice anywhere.
"That's cheap, Gibson." Dia hissed, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. "If that's all you got..."
"Keep looking."
Dia released a snort and turned back toward the hologram.
"I don't know, Doctor Weir." The older man continued in a considering sort of tone. "They must have localized him somehow."
"Director, it doesn't matter how they did it!" The younger man looked frantic, exhausted, and really scared. "we must evacuate immediately!"
"We can't leave, Stevenson." The director said calmly.
Dismay flicked in Stevenson's brown eyes. "What?"
The director breathed deeply, then repeated, "We can't leave. Their sensors are much more precise than ours. They will locate us the minute we try to escape."
"Then, what do you want to do?" Stevenson crossed his arms, a touch of defiance in his voice, "We just wait here for the mechs to kill us?"
"Of course not." Stevenson replied calmly as if he was used to the other man's sarcastic remarks. "We need a diversion."
"A diversion?" The so-called "Doctor Weir" asked.
Dia shifted nervously her weight from one foot to the other and edged forward, trying to take a better look, but Doctor Weir was still out of frame.
The director nodded. "It's a long shot, but we may be able to confuse their sensors...if we overload the reactor."
"Sure, if the explosion doesn't kill us all first!" Stevenson snapped.
His outburst seemed too much too bear even for someone as tolerant as the director.
"That's enough, Stevenson." The director said, his expression rigid and cold.
"I never should have taken this job. I know something was wrong but...to hell with it." Completely ignoring the director, Stevenson opened a drawer of his desk and drew a flask of whiskey. "I need a drink."
"Get a grip, Stevenson." The director hissed, his hand closing around the stock of his handgun.
Stevenson didn't seem to notice it.
"Why? We are dead anyway." He continued, taking a sip from the flask, unaware of the danger. "We might as well get drunk."
"Stevenson, I swear to you," He drew the sidearm from its holster, and pointed it at Stevenson's head. "if you don't put down that bottle immediately..."
That got his attention. Stevenson blanched, sobering up immediately when he saw the gun in the director's hands.
"Whoa." He raised his hands. "Take it easy."
"Richard," Dr. Weir sounded worried. "I don't think that's necessary."
The director ignored her, his finger already waiting on the trigger. "Now. Throw it away." He commanded Stevenson, gesturing toward the flask with his gun.
"Alright. Just...just stay calm. I'm putting it away, alright?" Stevenson said as he carefully tossed the flask on the floor.
There was a moment of complete and utter silence, then the director returned the gun to its holster.
"Listen, I know you're scared, we all are." The director continued in a gentler tone. "but we knew this could happen. Subject Zero is more important than any of us. She must survive, no matter the cost."
Stevenson seemed to consider his words carefully.
"Let's say that we overload the reactor, then what?" He asked, his tone much more subdued.
"Hopefully, it will distract them." The director answered. "If I'm right, one of us should be able to take subject zero and leave the station undetected."
Stevenson narrowed his eyes. "One of us? And who would that be? You?"
"Wrong." The director answered. "Doctor Weir," Dia stopped breathing when a much younger Luna Zephyr walked into frame. "you know what you have to do."
Dia's mother, the so-called Dr. Weir, looked younger than she remembered, but it was her. She looked exactly like the smiling woman she had seen in the olopicture. Dia's lower lip started trembling when the enormity of the implication began to penetrate her understanding, numbness spreading throughout her body.
"Her?" Stevenson's shocked voice brought her back to reality. "She will never make it. She is..."
"...someone I trust, Stevenson." The director's tone showed commendable restraint. His eyes, on the other hand, were filled with fury. "Now, go make yourself useful. We have to erase all the data before we leave the station."
Stevenson hesitated from a moment. He looked dissatisfied, but after what had happened, he was wise enough not to voice his opinion openly. Grumbling something under his breath, he shot one last look to the director before leaving the room.
"You know, he is not wrong." Dr. Weir said when he was gone. "This is major Stein's job. I'm just his backup."
"Steins is dead, Elizabeth." The director replied. "We can't count on him anymore."
"I understand but..." Dr. Weir bit her lip in distress. "I can't do it, Richard. I don't know anything about children."
Dia had never seen her mother like this. She looked troubled, insecure, and very young.
"Protocol Theta was created for this precise moment, Elizabeth." The director reminded her gently but firmly. "And you agreed to be Subject Zero's guardian."
Dia heard his voice go just a bit cooler, but Elizabeth seemed not to notice.
"That was just pro forma! For god's sake Richard, I'm a researcher, not a caretaker. How am I supposed to take care of it?" Dr. Weir asked as if they were talking about a thing, not a human being.
Dia touched her chest, but that did nothing to decrease the pain. She felt like someone was stabbing her in the heart.
"Enough, Elizabeth." The director raised his hand and she closed her mouth with a click. "There is no more time. Take subject Zero and leave."
"Don't let me do this." Doctor Weir pleaded.
"Elizabeth, you can do it." He grabbed her shoulders, his tone softening. "I know you can."
For a little while, neither of them spoke, then Dr. Weir's shoulders dropped, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"
The director looked at her with pity. "I'm afraid not."
Elizabeth took a deep breath. She looked resigned. "Fine. I'll do it."
"Good." The director took a step back, that face of compassion disappearing like a mirage. "Remember, from now how you're not Elizabeth Weir anymore. You're lieutenant Luna Zephyr, former science officer of the starship Numeron. You took an extended leave of absence to take care of your unplanned pregnancy and..."
"Enough, Richard." Dr. Weir cut him off, wiping at her cheek with a brusque frustrated motion. "this may be the last time we ever see each other. Is that all you want to say to me?" She looked at him expectantly, maybe hoping for something more.
"I..." He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, then he seemed to reconsider and nodded. "Yeah, that's all."
A multitude of expression passed through Dr. Weir's face in a flicker. Dia saw that hope vanish from her face, replaced by anger and then, disappointment.
"I see." She said with a bitter smile, turning to leave. "Take care of yourself, Richard."
The video went black.