A/N: Long time Alien franchise lover, and in no way own anything except my own characters and concepts. This is an idea I've been toying with for a while, and just started throwing it on paper.
This takes place following the events of Alien: Covenant, on "Planet 4" aka now "S87-5.4," approximately 6yrs afterwards, in 2110, and humans start to colonize it. I'll expand more on it later. We follow the journey of our researchers, a colony of xenomorphs, and the Legacy of our predecessors…
Inside every hall of Outpost 'Legacy,' on planet S87-5.4, the glaring yellow emergency lights flared in staggered unison towards established safe rooms while the alarms wailed in their bass tone.
"All non-essential personnel, please evacuate to the nearest designated safe zones. All armament division, report to your assigned posts for deployment. This is not a drill." The ultra-calm female AI announced over the PA system.
"All non-essential personnel, please evacuate to the nearest designated safe zones. All armament division, report to your assigned posts for deployment. This is not a drill."
Despite the ominous warning, every person ushered themselves calmly to their necessary locations. At the bridge, several command staff were pouring over the soft green glow radial map of the base and the surrounding landscape for 2 kilometers. On edges of the map, 5 red markers were approaching the base rather quickly in a semi group-like formation.
"Do we-" the Defensive Coordinator Officer Leer barked as he made his way onto the bridge deck, his words cut abruptly by the external raid sirens that blasted outside.
"Do we have a visual on them yet?"
"We do sir." Announced another officer, pausing as the next wail of the siren sounded off.
"One of the packs of neomorphs."
"Neo-?" The alarmed blasted again as the DC Officer replied.
"Can someone shut that off. I can hardly think in here."
A few buttons pushed and the raid sirens closest to the bridge was disabled.
"Neomorphs, sir." The lesser ranking officer replied, noticing the perplexed look on his commanding officer's face.
"The white ones. There's only 5 of them this time."
"Ugh, those bastards again. Dr. Taylor, Dr. Warren?" DC Officer Leer turned his eyes to the two scientists who had come to the bridge earlier at the first ring of the alarms.
"Yes, Commander Leer?" Dr. Huxley Warren, responded, one of the head researches at LG-S87-5.4.
"Do you think your girls are up for a bit of fun?" There was a slight smile pressed between the serious expression on the DC Officer's face.
Dr. Warren turned to his counter-part, Dr. Nell Taylor, who looked rather pale and nervous. They stared at one another for a long moment before she finally gave a slight nod of her head. Dr. Warren turned back to the commanding officer.
"It'll only be their third time out in the yard. Just make sure your men give them a little distance. They have a tendency to be a bit, high strung, after a little sparring. Dr. Taylor and I will get them prepped."
"You have 4 minutes to get them out there."
"We'll only need one."
A large subterranean door just outside of the towering perimeter walls of Outpost Legacy slowly opened with a small billow of dust, a chorus of bickering hisses and screams erupting before going silent from inside. Through the sprawling field of prairie grass, five ghostly beasts dashed and scampered at a fast trot, covering adequate ground but retaining a modest stealthy approach. The amassed smell of so much food was so intoxicating. The pack of neomorphs clicked in coordination, fanning around towards to one side of the gate. Too many frontal assaults had resulted in heavy casualties, and the memories still carried physical pain with them. It was imbued into their very being.
A lankier neomorph furthest on the flank of the troupe, stopped in its tracks, a curious familiar odor peeking its interest. With another click and low grunt, its conveyed its findings to the others. The rest of the pack paused, tasting the air too. The curious neomorph inched closer to the gaping ramp at the base of the perimeter wall, following the scent. The scent of other neomorphs. The scent of their clan member who had been captured by these strange alien invaders who walked upright. It peered into the darkness, watching, waiting. Finally, it ventured in.
Inside the bridge, the commanding staff waited, holding their breath.
With a horrified shriek a white blur sprinted full tilt back out of the subterranean opening, pursued by two large, monstrous black figures lunging forward, followed by three smaller xenomorphs that immediately broke towards the center of the neomorph troupe. Even from inside the thick glass, the mortified shrieks pierced the high walls of Outpost Legacy and reverberated off the steep valley walls of stone. The prairie grass began to wash over in shades of yellow and red as chaos ensured. Two of the smaller black xenos ran down one neomorph -one jumping on its back before the second joined and proceeded to shred its flesh.
Of the two larger black xenos, the broader one was dismembering another neomorph, while the smaller one had broken off in pursuit of the two retreating neomorphs. The two neomorphs split to run opposite directions, sprinting fast loops to make an attack from behind. One leapt into the air, claws poised to deliver a crippling blow to the back of the neck. It was struck out of the air with a rush of wind, a large black tail striking it down into the earth. The second neomorph darted between the massive tall legs and sprung vertically into the armored chest, and into a fatal trap. Two sets of short powerful lanky hands deployed straight into its face, grasping around its fleshy bulbous forehead and grasping shut. While it squealed in agony and panic, its captor took one enormous step to its crippled pack member, and planted a clawed foot square into its chest, the frail bones cracking as it was pushed into the ground.
The pinned neomorph cried out, along with the other agonized sounds of its dying clan mates in the distance. It clawed and writhed futility under the massive predator who stood above, still holding the other neomorph by its head while it too, kicked, clawed and squirmed in wasted efforts. The successor leaned in closer to investigate the pinned neomorph, barring its array of wet teeth in a hushed hiss as its sheer weight flattened its prey's organs further. The neomorph gazed up with its faceless visage, smelling the familiar smell again. It clicked at the hunter.
With curiosity, the black creature tilted its head, the tall flared crest partially eclipsing the sunlight. And with one metallic clip, the jaws hinged wide open and the head of the crushed neomorph exploded. With its prize in the hand, the xenomorph trekked back to the scene of carnage and the subterranean gate.
-Up in the Bridge-
"You're girls are…impressive." Noted the Defensive Coordinator Officer, feeling a primal fear wrinkle in his own gut at the display of raw cunning power.
"They're incredibly intelligent. They're very capable hunters even without a true established hive social order. However, the success of a hive depends on a strong queen." Dr. Warren commented, tapping a few buttons on the tablet computer to rally the flock back to their lair.
As the smaller of the large xenomorphs rejoined her group, a squabble ensued over the bounty she had brought back with her. The two large females began to hiss and circle while the three smaller xenos darted between the stomping claws and whipping tails, biting at tearing at the remaining dangling neomorph. The moment a leg was sawed off with a powerful swipe from the lesser xenos, the two large females went head to head, quite literally, in a shoving match with a thunderous crash, the neomorph still dangling by its head with the three feisty beasts took pot shots at it, drawn into the frenzy of the battle. With another thunderous headbutt, the neomorph was dropped to the ground -and amidst the chaos, sprinted for its life on 3 legs.
"And...there it goes." Dr. Warren sighed in humorous disappointment, watching as the three smaller xenos completely missed their opportunity to continue the hunt because they were too sidetracked with mock fighting with one another while the two sisters hashed it out. With another tap on the tablet, a small alarm sounded from inside the lower gate, and the females backed off, ending their fight with lingering hisses and posturing before returning below ground, the three miscreants scampering after them.
Nell readied her ID bad at the massive shutter doors that had been emblazoned with "BLOCK E" the caption below reading in smaller text "Defense Research and Engineering Network." With a swipe, the door security panel chimed and a green light illuminated the screen.
"I hate to admit its been a while since I've come down here." Officer Leer apologized,
"Though to be honest, your girls, as you so affectionately call them, kind of scare the shit out of me, Huxley."
"No offense taken Officer Leer." Huxley Warren chuckled, stepping aside to let his coworker and the officer thought the door first.
"Just call me Ed." Officer Leer waved off the formality.
"Well Ed, to be fair, Dr. Taylor and I have been working with the xenomorph strain for over 16 years, that's almost over half our lives. We've engineered and hand reared countless generations of xenomorphs in our short careers, and have made astounding discoveries along the way."
"What's the name of that lab rat one you keep around? She was one of the ones out in the field today, right?" Officer Ed Leer remarked, his eyes wandering around the pristine lab as they made their way through the various glass paneled research laboratories. Dr. Nell Taylor shot a noticeably hostile look towards her counterpart, Dr. Warren, staggering him for a moment.
"Her name is Dren." Nell said flatly, swiping her ID badge at a secondary containment door separating the smaller labs from the large subterranean observatory. The air lock opened with a rush of cool air. Nell limped forward on her crutch, feeling slightly out of breath.
"She was the one you saw capture one the neomorph and bring it back. The other one is her sister, Amsel."
"Any particular reason why she didn't kill it, like they've been trained to?" There was a hint of something in his voice Nell didn't care for. She was about to snap back when Huxley intervened.
"They're not trained Ed, they're taught. The xenomorphs possess a natural high intelligence and as we've recently discovered, a unified conscious. And through numerous generations of consistent breeding, we've seen a jump in their mental development and reasoning. When employing methods of training, compared to methods of teaching, we've yielded greater success rates with teaching them."
Inside the subterranean observatory, the large oblong octagonal window booted up, the edged backlight and indirect lighting illuminating the room it was viewing in a soft blue hue. The lights within the observatory itself dimmed to almost black. Once their eyes adjusted, inside the opposing room the walls were covered in glaring slime and coiled bodies of a whole small colony of xenomorphs, quietly moving about in their daily tasks. Officer Leer gasped under his breath at the sight.
"Wow." Was all Ed managed.
"Beautiful, aren't they? Primarily made up of the broods from Generations IX, X, and XII, with a few exceptions here and there."
"What happened to the others?" Ed Leer stepped closer, so he was almost nose to nose with the glass, watching the entire chamber move in silent unison.
"The previous generations have either died or, killed each other. Brood IV was the first group we saw a breakthrough in sociability, and only about 6 or so of them remain. Among them is Firken, our first successful queen, and her two sisters Amsel, and Dren. She has her own chamber off in the back." Huxley narrated, nodding in the general direction of the monarch queens lair.
"Brood IX were the first group we were able to handle from their initial emergence, though not for long too long. They've still quite independent but take guidance from Firken, even though she is not their generator mother. Brood XI if you recall, was the group that went rogue."
"Ah yes, I remember those bastards." Ed grumbled at the memory.
They had nearly pitted a hole through Outpost Legacy. The best course of action they had was to release them outside before they tore through the entire colony. They had been spotted on the different monitors scattered over the landscape but had long since gone into hiding in the forests somewhere.
"What ever happened with that group?" Officer Leer inquired.
"We've only been able to take a few guesses at it. Even though they are all descendants from the same strain, we've considered that it's a sort of 'wild type' within genetic structure. A type of 'fail safe' if you will, that contributes to the xenomorph origins of malleability and adaptability, ensuring the species survival." Nell Taylor explained, touching her hand to the glass as a smaller drone xenomorph ambled by the window.
"Even out here, nature has its way of keeping balance."
"Brood XII is one of our model pedigrees. Twenty fifth generation human bred, with the best features and body structure consistent with each offspring. They're those ones you primarily seen in this colony. They take on a lot of the hive duties of cleaning, building and tending to one another." Huxley added.
Ed Leer narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the xenomorph hive that was lurking beneath the very colony he was tasked to run.
"Which one is Dren?"
"Right there." Huxley pointed to a mass on the ceiling.
"Where?" Leer strained to look closer, but could hardly distinguished where one monster began, and one ended.
"Right…" Huxley started, pausing when there was an audible vocalized disturbance from the ceiling. Beneath a mass of drone xenomorphs, a broad angular crown emerged, the group of drones clamoring about on the ceiling before the large female dropped to the floor, landing in almost absolute silence. Presumably Dren, the large female snapped her jaw at a clanmate and padded her way to the glass observatory window.
"…there." Huxley finished, smiling in the ambient shadows as Dren huffed against the glass at his eye level, then proceeded to move closer to the unexpected visitor.
Officer Leer could do nothing to hide the stricken look on his face as he was chin to chin with the eyeless beast as it inspected him through the glass. Deep in her throat, the named xeno Dren, made a noise, an inquisitive short whimper that reminded him of a dog whining as it looked at him. The sound had such a sharp ring to it, it felt like metal claws were raking from inside his check. Satisfied she moved down the length of glass to where Nell stood, greeting the doctor with a deep bass cackled purr. The large xeno stood more upright, the smaller set of hands close to her chest, moving in small rapid motions.
"What is it doing?" Officer Leer asked, his voice concerned and a touch frightened.
"Communicating." Huxley said matter of fact, stepping around the uniformed officer and joining his colleague. Dr. Nell Taylor returned the gestures back.
"We've successfully been able to teach Dren sign language. She has a very rudimentary understanding of the verbal human language as well, and is capable of expressing free will, formulate personal thought, and feelings. So far, she's been the only one ever to possess such extraordinary intellect and reasoning."
"What, what is she saying?" Officer Leer quipped, feeling a sinking feeling in his gut. The notion that such a thing existed, something as volatile and already natural born killers, was more frightening than the feral white freaks that harassed their colony on a regular basis. And these two wackos were acting so nonchalant about it. Like it was a god damn pet.
"Right now, she wants to know, if-" Huxley paused, studying the rapid exchange of conversation, then laughed.
"She wants to know why you're so frightened, Ed?"
A/N: If you like it, let me know! Even if it's a quick shout out. Thanks for reading!