Chapter One: Well, That's a switch.

PFC Hudson was right. He really was gonna buy it on this rock. He was strapped to the wall by resin and spit, and his limbs felt about as powerful as a jellyfish. The thing that stuck him there made sure to stick its second mouth out at him as it left, like a perversion of the schoolyard bully that continually humiliated him during third grade. Hudson managed to hold on to his spent pulse rifle while the creatures dragged him through the vents, but he might as well have left it in the command center. It lay on the floor in front of him. He looked left to right, panicking, but didn't dare make a noise.

Fuck it, make noise.

"HEY MAN, FUCKING HELP ME! ANYONE THERE? VASQUEZ?"

Nothing came.

"GORMAN? HELL, BURKE?"

The sound of wet guts hitting the ground. A screech.

"Oh god, that must have been Burke. Or Dietrich. Shit, man..."

All around Hudson there were hissing and gurgling sounds, but so far that had been it. He wished he'd just die already. He was told the best way to die was a quick shot to the head, but while the creatures here did aim for the face, it wasn't what he had hoped for. And Hudson was feeling like such a badass just shortly before. He was annihilating what felt like hundreds of those things, firing pulse after pulse of caseless explosive tipped ammo while mouthing off like his childhood heroes from movies he was way, way too young to be seeing. Then the things went for his legs.

Suddenly, there was movement in the wall. Four flaps opened and one of those damn fingery creatures from hell crawled out. He closed his eyes, and braced for impact. In an attempt to calm himself, he tried to imagine the nice bar he was going to open with his pension money. This just made it worse, he wasn't going to start a goddamn bar with a hole in his chest. There was some loud banging nearby, but Hudson decided to keep his eyes shut. Whatever the hell it was it didn't matter. He was about to die. Didn't matter, about to die.

The banging just got louder. Was it gunfire? It didn't sound like the familiar "BRR-DRR-DRR-DRRT" of an M41A. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. Closer, closer closer… until it must have been right in front of him. Then, silence. A click. Footsteps.

"You alive?"

Hudson was slow to respond.

"You can open your eyes now."

With a mixture of confusion and embarrassment, he opened his eyes.

"Rip…" He started to say Ripley, but the woman in front of him wasn't Ripley at all. "The hell are you?"

"Commander. Commander Shepard. Now, you're not part of any military I know, but what's your rank, soldier?"

"Uh, Private First Class, ma'am," Hudson stammered. The Commander's uniform wasn't one he recognized at all. The red stripes, the insignias, all of it was alien to him. Her gun didn't even look like it took ammunition. Still, something about the way she presented herself made Hudson feel like he ought to be standing at attention.

"Need some help?" Shepard asked.

"Being crucified on this wall is fucking great, but I've had it, man! Is that thing still crawling around?"

"Take a look for yourself…" Shepard stood aside and pointed her rifle at the charred corpse of the facehugger, which was slowly sinking into the ground. "So, while I get you out of this…" She started tugging at the binds holding Hudson down, "What exactly are you doing out here?"

"We departed from Gateway Station, came to investigate this place when we lost contact with the colonists here, but when we first went in this hellhole here, my squad got wiped out." Hudson replied. His arms and torso were free now. He tried to peel the residue off his uniform, but it was stuck tight. This drew Shepard's eye to his uniform's patches.

"What's USCM? And for that matter, where's Gateway Station? I've never heard about a Gateway anywhere."

Hudson stared. "What do you mean you don't know Gateway? Every human being knows where Gateway is, man!"

"Well, I'm not even sure if you're even human, considering I have no idea where this planet is and none of the technology or anything I'm seeing here looks like it came from Earth." Shepard freed the PFC's legs and he stumbled a bit as his feet hit the floor for the first time in hours. Hudson was getting freaked out again, rapidly.

"I could say the same for you! And wha…" He had to process what he just heard again. "This…" he said, motioning towards his pulse rifle that lay on the ground next to him, "doesn't look like it came from Earth? We came straight from Earth!"

Shepard looked either concerned or irritated. This was a common phenomenon around Hudson. After a pause for thought, the Commander turned around and motioned for Hudson to follow. "All right, I don't know what's happened, but you should come with me. But be warned, you're gonna be answering a lot of questions." She sighed. "And… watch the tone. We've got one of your personality on board already, I don't know if the crew could take another." Hudson took one look at the remains of the slimy cocoon he had been inside and realized that whoever these people were, he'd probably be safer with them. Plus, it sounded like they had a ship. With people. Maybe some chicks.