Aliens vs. Predator: Damnation

By Zachary Williams

Planet Orion, Pegasus Galaxy

Lexicon Colony and Military Training Outpost

Population: 250

Marines: 50/Colonist (Mechanics, Doctors, e.t.c) 50/ Scientists: 50

Chp 1

Blaine Mitchell walks into the cafeteria. A mixture of Marines and Colonist are scattered throughout; some sitting at tables others walking about chatting with others. Blaine recognize some of the people as some of the marines; most of them were on the transport that brought were in with him to be stationed. Most of them grunts are fresh out of boot camp and haven't seen any action. Honestly why the hell he was with that group he will never know, he was supposed to be grouped with Bravo Company, but instead he got stuck with the rookies. The Head honchos figured he needed to 'refresh' his skills so to say, and was put here, with them, on Orion's Marine Training outfit. Whatever fuck them, he could use some R n R. Hungry as hell, Blaine grabs a trey and skips people in line. Some already there, gave him an ugly look but he ignored them and continued onward. So what the hell this bastard serving us today, Blaine says to himself. Looking through the glass at the grub, he just shakes his head. In front of him is a whitish, grayish glob looking thing sprawled out in a long, and wide container. That's it; they mainly mix everything up into one big, nasty looking blob. With all the damn money put into this shit hole of a rock, you would think they can spare some money on a decent meal line up! He gripes to himself. But before he could attempt to get any, someone comes up beside him.

"Hey bud, lines back this way" says a short man with blonde hair and glasses, pointing to the back of the line with a scrawny finger. Blaine barely turns to his direction and looks at him. From the looks of it, the kid must be one of the all brains but no balls scientists here on Orion.

"Fuck off" replies Blaine coolly.

Apparently not gutsy enough to say anything further to the marine in front of him, the scientist shuts up, and goes about his business. Shaking his head, Blaine grabs some food and heads toward a table. As he was turning around, all the tables were suddenly full of people. Apparently, among his gripping, it became a lot more crowed any here. Someone yells at him. He turns and notices it was one of the grunts he briefly talked to on the trip here.

"Hey! Over here!" said the voice, waving at an empty seat in front of him.

As Blaine sits down, he remembers the guy's name as Mark Sistine. A tall kid, with red hair cut in a small, tight military style Mohawk.

"Gets crowed in here pretty fast, figured you need a seat" says Mark indicating the suddenly busing mess hall.

"No kidding" remarks Blaine, staring at him.

Putting his hands up in jokingly surrender gesture, "Well sorry man, just thought I'd be nice and save you a seat!"

Blaine just sits calmly and attempts to eat the food.

"So…what the hell you think this shit is" Mark says making a disgusted face at the glop of crap they call food.

Swirling the food around with his spoon, Blaine thinks of what to say. When nothing comes to mind, he just pretends he didn't hear the question.

"Let me guess you one of the grunts they recruited out of V.M.I, or some shit millitary school like that?" marks Blaine, finally looking at Mark.

"Ha, you kidding right? Man, please i volunteered for this!, right out of highschool. Never went to those damn colleges or what not" replies Mark, smiling enthuasticly. Blaine smiles, finally, maybe someone who i can get to like here he notes to himself.

"What about you? Why you here on Orion, from the looks of that scar under your eye, your no rookie." Mark says, eyeing Blaine now.

"Your right, not a rookie. Thank god. Been in service for a good 7 years nows, seen millitary combat only 3 times though. Bastards at HQ, dont like my attitude, never quite seen me fit to be in combat, but lucky i happened to be in the right place at the right time." answers Blaine, starting to go down memory lane, "Got the scar here on my first tour, on planet they call Villerion. Got in a debacle with a group mercaneries trying to run the place. Was'nt pretty, but me and my men got the job done."

"Your men? you were in charge of a group of Marines?" asks Mark, interested now.

"Mhmm. I was Captain Blaine for a while, had a nice group of roughneck Marines. Damn best in the business. But then i disregarded some orders, got court marshalled, pent two years in prision. Now here i am, stock on a god forsaken rock, with a mostly rookie Marine class, and boneheaded Colonists." Finishes Blaine, returning the stare at Mark.

"Wow, how unlucky for you man." laughs Mark.

"Yeah, how unlucky for me..." Blaine says quitely.

Chp 2