Deadly jaws opened slightly as the drone hissed in boredom. A shining trail of drool trailed from its inner maw as its deadly second set of teeth extended, a spasm occurring every so often in a parody of muscular stretching. It was young; a couple of days old and it wanted to go forth and forage with its elders. Its midnight hide did not yet possess any scaring or anything else that indicated it had contributed to the survival of its hive. It was completely smooth and symmetrical in its perfection. The drone arched its tail over its shoulder and extended its dorsal tubes. Yes, boredom was not a foreign concept to the drones, the soldiers of the hive but they all hailed their queen and when the food sources had been exhausted and nothing left was suitable for harvesting they would sleep; lying in wait for those that will always come.
As the drone twitched, seeming to alleviating its own boredom it was unaware that it was in the process of being stalked. Stalked and watched. There was barely a sound, maybe just a soft thump as the figure landed in a crouch. The drone even through it was young turned, somehow knowing that it was now no longer alone. Another of its kind perhaps? It issued a low hiss.. It was not answered. Perplexed, intrigued the young drone bounded forward with a soft snarl. It did not feel… as if it should be on the offensive, there was a familiar scent on the air and the comforting hum of the hive mind did not give it cause to become aggressive and of course, it could not see anything. Not a muscle moved as the nightmare with chrome teeth and a good four-foot of height swung round obviously on the hunt. The nightmare started forward; caution was an alien concept to it. Here it and its brothers were on top of the food chain, supreme in the fact that their hive survived and reproduced.
The figure did not move..
It did not possess the basic fight or flight instinct that it's followers possessed, in fact it was incredibly similar to the nightmare that was attempting to stalk it. Young and aggressively instinctive to the point where some of its unit believed it barely possessed humanity when it came into contact with the breed. It felt the eyes of those behind it sniffing slightly when it began to catch a faint scent on the air; a rabid and feral combination of fear, anger and anticipation and despite the fact that the drone before her had not yet seen its adversaries it knew that it would of smelled them soon, if it hadn't already. The stalker felt a brief moment of annoyance, and started to slide against the resin like wall it had slithered against earlier. Retreat and protect serve or pounce now.
The instinct to protect what it saw as hive mates and the instinct to obey orders from its queen had it for a millisecond a flutter with indecision. But it had been too long since it had felt free and travelling in confines through space did nothing to alleviate its instincts. The figure was torn for a millionth of a second – kill this one now or wait for it to move away from what looked like a hole leading deeper into it's backyard. Fixing its eyes on the hole it chose to wait. No telling how many were 'sleeping' nearby and were very much ready to kick off down there.
The figure eased itself back, deep into an overhang and rested in the shadows. It was not alien in appearance; it was humanoid - but it had been made, fundamental DNA warped by the USM - united systems military. The new age assholes of the universe. Twisted in a bizarre sense within the human genes it possessed and experienced feelings hunting the drones gave it, liked to sometimes bask by a still living hive and hearing the soft voices within. One similar to it, Two words came to its consciousness then, the word 'Mother' and also 'Queen', also gave into to the need to allow the alien part of it an appearance but that one had an advantage of once being completely human and not from first breath being under the constant strain of being of both worlds. A soft hiss alerted the would be stalker that the drone had come closer and the figure looked out of the corner of its eyes and saw the oblong head snake from behind the chitinous fibre that made up the basic structure of the hive. This one would have to be disposed of quietly before they could progress but one wrong move, one slight slip would bring at least a small contingent of the rest of its family, each rigged for the disposal and harvesting of that which threatened their existence.
Flicking its eyes to right it made out a flash of color that made up the bandana that always adorned the small female known as Vasquez's head. Another moment passed and it knew that the drone saw it also. Being blessed with 360-degree vision had its advantages after all but this was one drone that would be meeting its maker before it could give an alarm. The figure moved quickly, seeming to suddenly leap from the black it had been hiding in, its passage only marred by the soft click as its clawed nails skittered briefly over the outer layer of the hive. Landing squarely to the side of the drone and before it could swing round had embedded a sliver of metal through its neck, barley a second passed as the front part of the drones head along with murderous and drooling jaws separated with a sickening squelch, arching in a spiral before hitting the floor with a further wet thump.
The aliens' murderer did not give it the chance to challenge or issue a warning instead all it gave it was a most disorganised death, its body having landed in a haphazard heap at a pair of small booted feet. A second swing arched to the left a moment later, a soft 'schling' as the metal seemed to bend the air before finding its target in a wandering face hugger that had attempted to pounce. Like the former; it landed with a moist sound, spider-like legs twitching until they fell silent. As the shadowy slayer surveyed its prize the rest of the eclectic crew moved forward, flanking and checking, always checking for further movement. It did not matter to the one that they now surrounded that there was nothing else alien in the vicinity and nor did it take offence when an old style marine with boyish charm swung an aged motion detector from left to right and breathed a slight of relief when the unit did not start to vibrate in his hands.
The figure stayed silent as unit that named themselves 'The Bug Busters' un-slung enough guns and ammo to take apart a small country. It was interested in one thing and that thing was probably surrounded by at least a couple of hundred drones and probably nested within an egg chamber with enough face huggers to infect a couple of hundred of their number. It found the cloak and dagger game of slipping in to the outer hive, dispatching the odd drone or five and then leaving a couple of mega tonnes of liquidising explosive boring – it was no sport. Effective, yes and affirmative it was a priority, disposing of the alien threat but it was bored of guns, grenades and then slinking off like a thief in the proverbial night. It wanted to test itself against the legacy that was its mother; Ellen Ripley, clone eight of the Auriga Project. Ripley had killed the first of her 'children', well that was not strictly true the child had been the Alien Queens and from it's rather strange birth had attached itself to Ripley. Did the stalker feel a human emotion when it remembered the hybrid newborn? Its eyes narrowed slowly in thought. It was a constant battle sometimes for the mothers company, humans, machines always called for her attention, diverting it from itself, leaving it in a fashion, lonely.
"..What the fuck is the kid doing now? Hey, Vazzie? You speak bug brat. What the fuck..?"
The speaker was given a look from the small but stout female that was standing guard. Within seconds of issuing a flourishing hand movement the speaker was silenced. The one known as 'The Kid' was amused… what was 'it' doing, indeed? Only watching for a stray face monster so it doesn't creep up and use you as a battery operated incubator. Idiot. Oh, it knew that many amongst the humans viewed her with something akin to a fearful awe. No one and nothing could do what it could. Nothing could go against a drone or three and survive unarmed. Hmph, none of them would even try it. Rolling its shoulders almost invisibly it pursed and pinched its lips. Yes, it finally admitted. It was experiencing the very normal and human emotion that was boredom. It mattered not that it was helping destroy something that it was kin with; having watched hundreds of data streams each noting the aliens capacity for destruction, going through every single living thing for either food or harvesting them it knew that they were a danger and that it was the correct thing to do – wiping them out but it was bored or going through what Vasquez called 'Having an itch and needin' to scratch it, 'kay..'. It was doing what the Mother… The Ripley wanted.
The lone figure turned and watched the last of the special 'package' being set into place. In exactly five minutes this place would be an ode to Hiroshima. Intelligence gathered from the Androids surveillance devices had thoroughly checked the rest of the terrain and had concluded that this was a fairly new colony and the operation would be a simple in and out job. The figure narrowed its eyes at a louder than normal 'click' broke the silence. It did not turn but simply raised a clenched fist to alert that the noise level was above what it should be.
"Psst.. Time to book, Kid."
The voice was barely above a whisper and for a second Hudson thought that the kid had not heard him and started forward to nudge it with the butt of his plasma rifle. Instead he found himself stepping back, as the kid was suddenly in front him. The kid freaked him the fuck out when they got close to the bugs. It was normal enough under some circumstances, having normal quirks, and often joined in if a game of ball was going through he suspected it was not because of the company; it was more of something to do. He continued to muse absently. He really didn't mind the Kid but it needed to stop going from being semi normal to freaky in nought to sixty. Knowing that he had been 'cloned' or whatever the fuck they called it didn't do wonders for his nerves or that fact that Ripley was now part of those fucking things that had kicked his ass on LV426. The fact that Ripley had given birth six months ago and that said infant was now normally found on their numerous operation 'fuck you, bug' gave him a severe case of the Wiggins. Hudson waited for the kid to follow and was about to try nudging it along when it suddenly knelt down beside the fallen drone and casually reached inside the partial jaw that hanging out, looking as if it was searching its throat cavity for a lost item. Well, not something. He knew what it was.
The Kid would always bring back the inner jaws complete with drool and present them to Call. No one knew why and the secretive android never let on. Call just took the macabre gift and almost as if it was petting a canine, petted the kid on the head. He didn't get it. The whole thing was factually bullshit. The fact that said kid should have still been crawling around with a shit rag covering its ass was also something that seriously messed with his sense of calm. But, such is life, Hudson mused and right now was not the time to get into an internal debate about how screwed it was.
Vasquez was waiting at the top of the ying-yang shaped tunnel facing down the blackness armed with a new and improved smart gun – or what passed for one in the future. The others were already half way back through the blackened foliage to the Betty. None of them liked to stay once the welcome wagon was in place. Johner was not a soldier; he would have been at home three and a half thousand years back in some coliseum swinging a club but that did not mean that Vasquez did not like him. In his own way he reminded her of her once best buddy Drake who like Johner lived for action and had more fun brawling than anything else. She quirked a smile suddenly and made a mental note to make sure that Johner's bunk was not empty tonight. Checking her communicator she responded to the silent hail from the ship, reporting that there was no movement, mission still in progress.
She did not show it when Hudson and the kid came into view but her grip eased a fraction on the trigger and her steady breathing slipped further into something bordering completely relaxed. It helped matters that she knew the kid would be the first one on the offensive if it felt one of the bugs coming within a hundred miles of them. Slinging her rifle over a bronzed and toned shoulder and hefting herself over a ridge that was made of alien by product she took point, leading the way back to the bowels of their air ticket off this world and on the way to another, off to save the human race.
Dark eyes took in the sudden flash of light from the safety of the cockpit. Ripley felt satisfaction as the mushroom shaped cloud billowed through the atmosphere. No other nests had been found on this planet and it was out of the way enough for the blast not to be picked up by the united system military. A small smile creased her lips at the thought of the military. They had not been pleased when she and her rag tag group of commandos, mercenaries and civilians had started stealing weaponry, smashing labs and stealing data. Nor were they pleased when she nuked her first nest site and dashed the hopes of the new version of the fucking 'Company' white suits for bio weapons. They had come upon this planet by chance but it didn't matter if it was the US assholes site or an independent. The aliens would be stopped. Tilting her head, Ripley looked behind her at the jubilant voices now kicking up a ruckus in the cargo hold.
"Stop your grinnin' and drop your linen! Anyone order the Bug Soufflé?"
"Prettiest thing I seen all week, man.. Oh! Look at it spurt up baby! Hey, Vriess, shame you can no longer get your schlong to do that eh, buddy? Yeaaah!"
Hudson proceeded to half-heartedly grapple with Johner as they watched the bomb ignite. Satisfaction oozed from every single pore. Another bug colony dusted. Booyah. Ripley stood at the door and watched them, each congratulating each other with something akin to a smile. It was ghostly but it was still there. When they dry-docked or landed at some off the channel outpost her crew would get drunk, brawl and let loose. They deserved it. Stepping forward she laid a hand on Vasquez's back and returned the slight nod. Stepped past the still grappling Hudson and Johner, nodded to Hicks and Vriess, completely ignored the relatively new non-marine/mercenaries that had rallied to their cause and stopped in front of the window.
"No problems?"
It wasn't so much of a question as a statement. Of course there had been no problems, if there had of been even at the distance she had of been she would of felt it. Ripley reached out and ran a hand along silken hair until it reached equally soft skin. Cocking her head she realised that she had grown again. She was now almost seven months old and fully formed into that of a teenager, the humanity in the DNA must of offset the alien that the rapid growing stopped once a certain point was achieved; allowing for a natural maturity. In her eyes her child, her little Chasey was perfect and most of all she was hers and she did not have to worry that she would lose her as she lost Amanda. Her Amy. Or like Newt.
"No problems."
Their conversations were always short, whatever needed to be said was but there was no direct need for vocal communication. Ripley stroked her nails down her child's back in a strong downward motion and noticed that as she did so the tension her young was displaying slowly began to ebb. It had been her choice to allow her to start venturing into relatively small hives, taking what should have been her place while she stayed at the ship and coordinated with Call. Call had been vehement in her protestations so much so that a non-alien human hybrid probably would of taken offence. It did not matter to the android that at first she had not trusted Ripley Eight; she had in front of the group eluded that she was not human and that she was not to be trusted. Seems like she never learned. Ripley suspected that Call had another reason for not liking the child to leave her sight. She suspected it every time Chase would present her with another inner tongue-mouth, the way Call would take it and then pat her head always made her thin lipped smile show, however brief. Call was more attached than she would like to admit.
"We will land at Elunaria Six in four hours. Backwater cattle colony that is large enough for refuel. Keep Johner, Hudson and the others from the whorehouses especially Johner and away from the craps tables. Call will interface with the network again. Those bastards must be feeling lonely by now."
"Yes. No breaking."
With a last rub Ripley turned and walked away, passing a chain smoking Hicks who had been eyeing them with curiosity. When Ripley was out of earshot he regarded the kid. She had a name but since Ripley hardly spoke it and most had taken to calling her 'The Kid' he had fallen in to addressing her as such. Breathing the smoke deep into his lungs he dropped down from his seat on the crates of supplies and wandered to the larger viewing port. He noted that the kid eyed him from the corner of her eyes but did not come out with a 'Hi, how are ya, Hicks?' but he guessed being looked at was more than what the others usually got. Hell, it took Hudson at least half a year to stop being freaked out with his own gene pool let alone something with one twice as fucked up.
"Yeah.. Docking in a couple of hours."
When he did not get a response, Hicks carried on, eluding that, as she was to join them for 'shore leave' him and Vasquez would show her the sights. Flicking the ash of his cigarette, slowly rotating the butt between his forefinger and thumb he sighed. Getting the kid to talk to those who weren't Call or Ripley took the patience of Job. He hated bible school.
The Betty's engines fired to life, a vapid roar was heard by all and those that could be bothered raced for the cockpit and the safety of the seats, all except Chase and Call who were content with looking at the still smoking spot on the planets surface, so engrossed Call missed the squared shaped alien beacon whiz past the aft port window, the Kid did not recognise it as significant if her eyes did see it.