**This is my first fanfic. Something about District 9 nagged at me until this piece was created.**

Summary: Wikus endures his transformation and finds that his new life and body supersedes his humanity in unexpected ways. The story is rated M, for MATURE, as alien coupling and reproduction will be explored and eventually the Mothership will return, and with it Christopher.

A New Beginning

He knew he had to hide in those last days, somewhere dark, somewhere safe, it was almost instinctual. The only noises that now met his ears were clicks and grunts that came from what his mouth had become. It seemed that the transformation came in waves of pain and change, and he knew this was it, the end. It had been a week since Christopher's departure. He had hidden and scavenged around district 9, but he was lost now, there was no turning back. The thought of three years, only three years, but it seemed an eternity, and Tania, what of her? So with little other choice he crawled into the hole beneath the remnants of Christopher's shack, and hid himself under the wreckage hoping that no one would find him.

He lay in the dark with terrified curiosity. He lifted his now alien hands to explore what he was becoming. The previous day in a terrifying moment his upper lip sprouted tentacles that moved and writhed. Then his throat and neck had changed inside and out. Taking away his ability to speak and breathe like a human. He hadn't eaten in two days when the rest of his teeth came free of his mouth. The two tentacles at the front of his mouth, labrum, that's what the scientists called them, felt strange as they grasped and moved, but it was the next thing that startled him the most. He had watched the aliens, seen the Prawns up close but he supposed he didn't pay enough attention. His nose was gone just plates remained and next to the tentacles were two small appendages that flicked outward moving. He panicked, this change unwanted and horrifying. But it was face; his body, and he needed to understand it. He felt through the tentacles over his mouth and around what he knew the scientists called the maxilla, the upper and lower jaws. His mouth opened larger than he would have thought, but he had seen a Prawn hold a can of cat food in its powerful mouth. Now Wikus was the same as that Prawn. Trembling he continued up his face, still encountering the remnants of human skin and hair with bony ridges of exoskeleton pushing through.

Bumps pushed up beneath the skin of his forehead, and he still felt hair on his head. He made his way lower over his now broad neck with its thick exoskeleton plates. His three fingers fluttered over the slits in his alien neck that took in air, the feeling reminded him of gills. Hard plates continued down his neck. He felt his shoulders and found that one was gone, only hard exoskeleton remained. When flesh slid from his other shoulder he shuddered pulling his hand away quickly. He went lower feeling human skin on his chest coupled with exoskeleton. He pushed on the human skin, but there were no ridges where his ribs should have been. He trembled. Nothing, just hardness lay beneath the sloughing skin. Nearing his waist his skin felt spongy he pushed and was horrified to find that a cavity opened to where his internal organs should have been, and a chunk of flesh dropped into the dirt with a squishing sound.

Steeling himself he moved lower. His pants were gone discarded in the last bout of transformation, when pain had wracked his body leaving his legs barely functional an amalgamation of human and alien. His hips were gone replaced by exoskeleton and distorted. Shaking he continued lower. What came next shocked him beyond measure. Hard exoskeleton jutted outward were his pelvis and soft flesh used to be. His manhood was gone. Instead he found that a crevice had formed in the exoskeleton. When he pushed on it opened. He worked to calm himself. He knew what it was, the cloaca, or so the scientists called it, and he had one now. The orifice that handled all bodily functions and reproductive needs, that's what he had learned in a lecture on alien anatomy. What else did he know? That they could self fertilize or something like that. He also knew they had mating cycles, as he had watched a video of a coupling. He remembered laughing with his fellows, but now he trembled and hoped beyond hope that perhaps a shred of his human DNA would remain, and he would not have alien reproductive needs. They were hermaphrodites able to be either male or female depending on need and want. Sickened he felt over the opening. He never paid attention to exactly how the reproduction worked; he knew they had a something penis like, but what else? He shuddered, his now thick scaly finger slid into the opening, and he immediately retreated after a quiver ran through his body.

No, no, no, he thought. In his despair he began to make a clicking trilling began noise, and he curled onto his side. Sleep came taking him away until pain woke him. His skull was on fire. He groaned a clicking warble sound. He thrashed reaching with his hands he found his hair falling out in clumps. He scratched at his head furiously ripping and tearing. He received some relief when two small and two larger antennae extended from him forehead, and with them came sensations. Humans are such visual creatures, and for Wikus his perception was now beyond comprehension. His antennae tasted the air, and he felt the world around in new and unexpected ways. There was rich black dirt, small creatures burrowed, insects crawled, metal, and other things he could not classify such as a musky smell came to him. An explosion of tastes, and scents filled his mind, as he tried to process the dark place he occupied.

Then pain came again, and he dug at his head flesh sliding through his broad long fingers. What was left of the skin on his face fell free, leaving spikes and exoskeleton plates behind. His mind was on fire, pounding throbbing changing. Darkness overwhelmed him and when he woke next it was done. Something was different he felt it a quiver through his very being. He needed to be free of the darkness. His jumbled mind wondered if it was instinct. Crawling from the wreckage he met the sun, and saw the world through new eyes and senses. The light was blinding, he blinked trying to bring his surroundings into focus. His antennae moved and quivered he knew there were others near, he could feel them. Were they Prawns? How strange? He tried to think of Tania, and found her face still there in his mind, but the picture wavered as his thoughts were cluttered with so much more.

A shadow fell over him he cowered sensing strength.

"You, who are you," said a Prawn in its language of noises and clicks.

Wikus could understand him, but his mouth wouldn't work. Human words were gone to him, and how to create the alien ones were unknown. He clicked and trilled curling upon himself feeling the need for submission. He didn't understand it. He was never thought of himself as weak, and prostrating in the dirt was beyond reason. The Prawn knelt placing long fingers on the side of Wikus's head. He panicked. He wasn't marked, as every Prawn was by the MNU. He trembled. He was too weak. His legs were strange and disjointed, there would be no running.

"The human," said the Prawn, "there has been talk of you, come."

Wikus felt himself lifted then carried over the tall Prawn's shoulder. The world was awash with new sensations. He was taken into a shack, and set upon the dirt floor his back leaning against a wall. Then the Prawn left returning shortly with a two cans and a hunk of bloody meat in hand.

"Here, eat," the Prawn held out the meat first.

His body needed sustenance, the scent and taste of blood filled him. Wikus reached out a shaky hand taking the flesh. The blood smelt rich, and as much as it revolted his human sensibilities, he soon found his hand going to his mouth. His Labrum working to hold the meat and his maxilla opened to reveal a large cavernous waiting mouth. He had seen the Prawn's eat time and time again, and found that his body took over the process, and the meat was gone in moments. That's when hunger flared up within his body, and without thought he reached out a hand his antennae quivering, seeking the cans the Prawn held. An open one was handed to him he started to scoop the meat, but the Prawn interrupted him.

"Let your body do it."

Uncertain Wikus held the can to mouth. The entire can fit within, and the scent and taste of it was overwhelming. There was something about cat food that he couldn't understand, as his body quivered in anticipation. He tipped his head, Labrum sliding the food into his waiting mouth. It was disgusting, revolting and oh so wonderful. The contents of the second can went down quicker. His hunger sated he looked around the dwelling. It was bare, cleaner than most with a mattress against one wall, and a few pieces of tattered furniture: a chest of drawers with the bottom drawer missing, two old wooden chairs, and an old table. Light shown in through threadbare drapes that hung over a makeshift window. He held out his arm, and saw the pale green color of his exoskeleton it was chased with amber. He looked at his legs. There were now misshape, bent wrong, and his hips jutted out to the sides of his pelvis. His feet now ended in three talons. His chest was plated. Two vestigial arms with two small hands grasped and moved. His waist was narrow, and his eyes fell upon his loss: his humanity, his maleness, gone.

He knew before he had looked what his eyes would find, from his exploration in the dark, but seeing his new form was shocking, and confusing. Some part of his new mind thought this is you, this is natural. Tearing his eyes away his antennae moved with a life of their own reporting to him tastes and smells, such as the dark colored Prawn who sat unmoving watching him. He wore no clothing upon his body, and strength poured off of him. He also felt that the Prawn had a place, just as Wikus now did. But Wikus's place was not the same, it was somewhere below. There was another problem that he felt keenly. Something was missing inside, some part of him felt empty. The Prawn before him seemed to help fill some of the gap. He tried to understand, it was strange. His antennae flicked back and forth. Short clicks came from his mouth; his vestigial arms moved up and down, as he tried to come to terms with the strange feeling. What had he learned at MNU? Hive society, that was what the scientists said, but what did that mean for him?

The Prawn moved and Wikus instinctively cringed. His human thoughts fought, but his body knew the one before him was superior.

"Can you speak?"

Wikus fumbled he had heard the Prawns speak for years and had sat through classes. But as he attempted to say something in greeting all that came out was jumbled clicks.

"I see, you will need to be taught, as an offspring would, wait here," the Prawn said.

The door shut with the clatter. Looking at the table Wikus crawled to it dragging himself across the dirt floor. He pulled himself up on wobbling legs, and teetered before finding his balance. He stood like that, as a toddler would, until he felt stable. Then he took his first tentative step. The balance was different, but after a few miss-starts and a fall he managed to slowly walk a line. There was power in his legs he knew it, he had seen the Prawns spring upward, he just needed to find it.

He felt the newcomers before they came to the door. The scents and tastes he received carried a mood of distrust, and a feeling that these were superior like the one who just left. Wikus trembled, and felt the need to hide. He cursed his new body. He wasn't weak he screamed inside, but his head dropped; his antennae darted, as the scents of the newcomers washed over him.

The dark-colored Prawn came through the door followed by two others, one with a mottled-green exoskeleton and a tan one, both wearing fragments of clothing.

"It is afraid, this human. Can it not restrain its feelings?" the green prawn said.

"No, it needs aid if it is to become wholly one of us, I would say there is nothing human left in it," the dark one said.

"I see," the green one said.

"Does it have a name?" the tan one said.

Wikus wanted to cry out, but he was frozen where he stood, what was wrong with him? A wave of scents and emotions fell around him. He cursed inwardly as he cringed.

"I believe I overheard one of the MNU call it Wikus."

"It is small, for a Poleepkwa," the green prawn said.

"I'm certain that is due to its smaller human origins," the dark one said.

"It is not a worker, but it is not one of us, strange it is somewhere between, look at it cower," the green Prawn said.

"It could find a place among us," the dark one said.

"Is it dangerous?" the tan said.

Wikus felt the others suspicion and crouched low, he wanted to flee, but to where. He couldn't go back to what he was, three years, or so Christopher said. He trembled.

The dark-colored Prawn shook its head, a low warble fluttering its Labrum, "Does it look dangerous," the warble came again, "I propose teaching it, or rather him, despite what the humans have done to us we are not like them. Despite what they think of us and the chaos and destruction that our people exhibit we should not do away with this one."

"But can it learn? Humans are brutal and do not listen," the green one said.

Quiet filled the room. Wikus tried to communicate but only managed clicks and warbles. He was here with them. He had a voice. If only he could use it. They were talking about him. It was if he was back in MNU strapped to the table. He cowered lower, hating his new form, but his body and his instincts said be small, prostrate and be submissive.

"Look at it, I believe it understands its place, it is submissive, it is Poleepkwa," the dark one said.

"And if it does not understand?" the green one said, antennae twitching.

"I will deal with it," the dark one said.

Quiet again settled as the three looked at each other. Wikus could only watch.

"Who will take responsibility?" the tan one said.

Three pairs of eyes and antennae turned to look upon Wikus. He cowered lower, feeling the weight of their gaze. His antennae flashed and low clicks issued unbidden from his mouth. He tried to quiet himself, but instinct drove his actions on.

"I will, I take responsibility," the dark one said.

"If that is your wish," the green one said.

"It is, now leave me to it."

The other two departed, leaving Wikus alone and uncertain with the dark-colored Prawn. His still human thoughts raged against his alien ideas such as: not a worker but something else. What did that mean?

The dark-colored Prawn spoke, "I am Rithis of the Poleepkwa, but you may call me Thomas when you can speak, I have grown accustomed to the human name. We will begin your lessons today."

And so it began. Even though his human thoughts were repulsed by what he had become, and what Thomas required of him; he couldn't defy the prawn. He wanted to curse, to fight, but found that he was cowering and repeating after Thomas. Alien sounds escaping his mouth, as he began to speak the words he had spent so much time learning as a human. On the third day after the change, Thomas provided him with a cracked mirror instructing that he was Poleepkwa now. Wikus stood in front of the mirror, Thomas stood behind and watched. He wanted to curse, to yell that he was human but looking at his reflection, watching his antennae move, and the feel of the Poleepkwa people filling his senses his internal curses began to lessen. His lingering human thoughts still fought, but Wikus of the Poleepkwa was beginning to be born.

He learned to clean his body, clearing foreign objects from between his plates where dirt and oil could gather. Thomas also showed him the strength that his new body held. It was powerful, and armored, the elements did not bother him. He felt the heat, but it was not uncomfortable, and the more he learned, the more his confusion grew. Leaving him struggling with what remained of his human memories. Each day he stood in front of the mirror, each day he repeated the words as Thomas bid, I am Poleepkwa he would say. Thomas would thump Wikus's chest and tell him he was Poleepkwa, and that the people were with him, surrounding him, within him. His antennae would twitch, his vestigial arms would move nervously, but Thomas was right Wikus could feel the pull of the people. His body said it was right, it was good. Thomas told him that humans were disgusting brutal creatures, and that Wikus was more now. He had molted, shedding a foul skin and his true form had been revealed. Looking in the mirror he became more accustomed to his body, and his human thoughts grew more confused by the day leaving him uncertain and scattered.

Each day Thomas provided for him arriving with food, and they would share a meal. At times it was meat that was fly-covered and growing rancid by the moment. It disgusted him, but it was food and his body understood it. At other times Thomas brought fresh meat complete with bones, innards and fur. The fur could be ignored and eaten with the meat, but the bones became a particular pleasure, as they cracked releasing marrow, which only drove his hunger on, and to his dismay he found that innards were a particular delicacy, so sweet, so pleasing. But cat food in its tin can, made of stuff Wikus no longer wanted to consider, caused his antennae to quiver and his labrum to flutter and move about restlessly. When Thomas passed him the can he would greedily eat the contents. His human sensibilities fought and cursed, but his body knew what was right, and Wikus fell into the habit of just eating, not thinking, and savoring each meal.

One month after the change, Wikus told Thomas that Christopher would return to cure him. Wikus found himself cowering to the floor as Thomas rose up and cursed humanity. What need did Wikus have of such things? His current state was a blessing not a disease. He was Poleepkwa now. He was a part of the people. From that day forward he was made to walk the district with Thomas by his side in order to see what humanity had done to the people. He saw the MNU guards at their posts. He knew the disregard and hatred they had for their charges, and he had shared such thoughts of superiority, but the more he learned the more confused he became. Each day he saw chaos and uncertainty. Each day he saw hungry Poleepkwa without the means to feed themselves, as what was left of the Nigerians within the district sold meat and cat food for exorbitant prices. Each day he felt guilt mixed with uncertainty. How could he have ignored what he saw before his own eyes? They would walk and Thomas would take the time to teach lesson after lesson.

Thomas spoke of who the Poleepkwa truly were. The humans compared the people to mindless insects, but it was so much more, as there were sublevels within the Poleepkwa culture from the Scitira who served to lead all of the people, to the ranks below that governed cities, and the highest honor to was to govern a Mothership. Then there were those Poleepkwa of Thomas's rank with intelligence and cunning. They were the scientists, the facilitators, the medics, the keepers of knowledge, the artists, the technologists and many more. Then there were the workers filling a vital role within the Poleepkwa society. They were the builders, the laborers, the explorers reaching into the cosmos aiding in the search for minerals and raw materials to return to the Homeworld. And lastly there were the soldiers, a select few who lived to protect the Scitira and the cities from any threat. The mention of soldiers returned Wikus to his horrible time in MNU being forced to test weapons. He asked Thomas about the weapons and learned that the Poleepkwa believed in strength, and there were other travelers of the stars who presented threats. Weapons were a part of life, like strong bodies, or great leaders. The Poleepkwa took their culture very seriously and would brook no interlopers upon their Homeworld.

He then described the Homeworld: expansive grasslands teaming with life, offering hunting and solace, vast oceans that provided sustenance and mountain ranges that gave their bounty to the people in minerals and metals. He spoke of the Seven moons, and how they shown at different intervals over the land, some hidden during the day and some shining at night. Wikus could almost picture it, could almost see the images as Thomas spoke. The Homeworld was so near, yet so far. Moons shinning upon flowing grass that waved in hot breezes. Oceans tides ebbing and flowing beneath the pulls of the moons and tall mountain tops reaching to the stars that the people now explored. The image was so overpowering that he had to stop and attempt to recollect his thoughts, as he saw fleeting alien beauty superimposed over the dregs of the district.

Thomas went on to speak of the Poleepkwa civilization and culture. It was old, spanning many millennia, and had been in its present state since the beginning of the age of exploration. That time that the people took to the stars, their technology gaining shape and growing, and everything they had in the present could be traced to those early days hundreds and hundreds of generations ago. Thomas described Poleepkwa culture as a perfect balance, where each knew their place and felt the warmth of the people around them. Whereas, Thomas likened humans to offspring still toddling and learning after a molt not yet ready to be entrusted with the secrets of space travel, a people who were just as likely to bring about their own destruction. Wikus was quiet; he was confused, his human thoughts diminished under the onslaught. What could he say, certainly there was beauty in humanity, but faced with his current state, the pull of the people around him and Thomas's eloquence he could say nothing. His only response was silence.

Days later, when they walked Wikus asked about how they came to be on Earth. Thomas grew quiet his antennae flashing in the African midday sun. When he spoke it was with emotion. Each Mothership had a Xklarie, a leader, who was chosen by the Scitira to lead and govern all those upon the ship. They had been gone from the Homeworld for ten tyleric cycles, which were the equivalent of one and a half earth years, when the problem happened. A malfunction in the command module led to a system wide collapse within the ship. The Xklarie was injured, and the all they could do was limp to earth, the nearest habitable planet, on minimal power. By the time they arrived it was too late. The Xklarie had died. Thomas explained that there were normal procedures for rite of passage of leadership, but the damage was too great to the ship and too the people. The workers were lost without guidance, and Thomas and his fellows such as Shxira, or Christopher as Wikus knew him, could do little else than try to survive and exact repairs, but the humans arrived cutting their way into the ship. That is when they dropped the module, and chose to hide it until they understood the nature of the humans.

At first Thomas and the others thought that they would receive aid, and could be on their way, but the workers became more chaotic. Thomas explained that all Poleepkwa were intelligent, but the workers lived to serve, and without leadership they degraded, becoming depressed and aggressive. Then the MNU came, with their harsh ways, and the people were forced into the district. It was all they could do to survive. With the command module being their last hope, and finally that hope was realized when Shxira escaped. Now all they had to do was wait, as the Mothership would return.

Wikus listened to Thomas feeling a great weight upon him. He had been a part of MNU. He was responsible. His antennae fell, his shoulders slumped. Thomas took notice and told him that he had aided Shxira's escape, and he was to be proud because he was Poleepkwa. As Thomas said the past was gone, he could only live in the present and the future. He thought of Thomas's words, but they did little to quell his unrest inside. He could not remember the feel of his human form. The Poleepkwa around him made him more and more one of them every day. Thomas provided for him, Thomas protected him with his strength and presence; the people provided a place and Wikus felt both a part of them and lost at the same time.

Three months after the change, Thomas allowed Wikus to walk the district alone. He would wander carefully, as his body was smaller than the rest of the Poleepkwa, and even though his rank was higher than a worker he still felt the need for safety. He would scour the piles of trash and cast off articles looking for anything of interest. At times he would find things that would bring his memories into focus. Such as a broken picture frame that brought Tania's image to life between its borders, or he would bend metal into pleasing shapes recalling memories of gifts given. He began to amass a collection of metal flowers. They sat in a box in the corner of Thomas's shack, by the mat he slept upon. When Thomas saw the creations he only looked at them curiously without comment. Often Wikus would find himself staring at the box, his antennae quivering, a low clicking escaping his mouth. He would think of Tania working to bring her face into focus. An ache would grow within him, but it would waver as he felt the ebb and flow of the people around him. Even in their chaotic beleaguered state they were still a force within him.

Glossary:

(These were terms that I decided upon to aid in fleshing out the Poleepkwa society and culture, as the movie didn't offer up many clues to what looked to be a complex society.)

Scitira- The Leader of the Poleepkwa, who always comes from the same rank.

Xklarie- Mothership leader, chosen by the Scitera, it is the highest honor as the exploration of space and the recovery of resources is of great importance.

Tyleric Cycle- equal to 1.5 human years, and it is the complete revolution of Homeworld.