Friends Versus Predator
by Matthias Meinheld
Chapter 1 - "Awakenings"
Phoebe's luscious eyes opened suddenly as if from a dream. But this dream was in fact a nightmare, and was of nightmarish proportion. Oh no, she thought. I am floating, floating through the air in some sort of nightmarish dreamstate. But she wasn't floating but was in fact falling, and felt the sudden urge to scream and defecate. Looming towards her was a landscape of smoke and fire, as much as she could make out from the altitude, her level of consciousness, and the fact that she was spinning and flapping wildly. The wind whipped up her skirt and kissed her smoothly shaven pubic mound.
Back on the Predator Mothership, the control centre was a hub and buzz of activity. But once they had finished lunch, it resumed its usual state of bored minimal-productivity as was typical for a Thursday afternoon in such a bureaucratic tyranny as operated on this ship. An Overseer stood behind a desk where four slaves sat at banks of computer screens. The one which he stood right behind, to those conversant in Yautja, said above it "Phoebe". Not even bothering to speak to the subordinate whose task it supposedly was, the Overseer leant forward, flicked up a transparent plastic button cover and pressed the button underneath.
Phoebe coudn't understand many things at once. Why was she not sitting singing in Central Perk? Why was she dressed in the full uniform of a Soviet soldier in The Great Patriotic War (or World War 2 as it is known in the west)? The mere fact of the second question served to explain why she was grasping a PPSh-41 and not an acoustic guitar. But so many questions remained. Who had smoothly and lovingly shaved her habitually hirsute lady garden? Before these and any other questions could be pondered further, a momentary beeping sound announced the sudden deployment of the parachute. What parachute, thought the reader. The one she was wearing but I hadn't described yet, said the fanfic author. The ground loomed closer, and Phoebe's rate of descent slowed to one which would not be fatal. Phoebe began to involuntarily piss and scream as it became clear to her that she was in fact in 1942 and was falling behind German lines at the battle of Stalingrad!
