This is around the year 2800...things change in eight-hundred years, and one thing is the education system. You start earlier, you take harder classes with more cramming, and people hire anyone they can for the job. A seventeen year-old with some of the highest marks in her classes is one of the few of her age that would get hired.
Sorry about not putting thins in writing, but I have now. Sarah is a doctor and seventeen. It works out in this age, but not in our own. If you must know, she has a doctorate in xenobiology, which is the 'study of alien life' for those who don't know technical terms.
Sorry about that mix-up and thanks to AileenBlack at deviantArt for pointing it out to me.
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Just one more thing to say……
'Hello, Bones…'
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Chapter 8
Reflections
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Two Xenomorph drones walked through the hallway, sniffing the air to track down the rest of the humans that had become trapped in the lab when the tunnel collapse sealed the primary exit, funneling them to inactive elevators and service shafts. They knew there was something around here…but where, and what? It smelled like a human, in a way, but it also smelled uncannily like a Xenomorph.
One of the drones paused, sniffing the air by a closed door. It chirped to its companion, who turned and looked at the door curiously, thinking about what could be inside. Suddenly there was a beeping noise…the sound of a passcode being entered into a control panel. The two drones knew that it had to be a human, and they both readied themselves to spring. The door opened with a hiss, crimson emergency lights flickering, and then the two drones saw it.
It was a Xenomorph, but taller than both of them, nearly eight feet. It had a large crested head, much as a Queen did, but it was obviously male. It had long fingers ending in razor-claws, and another pair of arms lay flat and almost invisible against its sides. The two drones squealed in joy at seeing such a high-ranking Xenomorph around them, for they had needed something to look up to for commands since they had emerged from their hosts a scant few hours ago.
Only one thing distinguished this Praetorian from the one that they both saw in their collective Hive memory; a few human characters on the crest of its head, tattooed on in white…X-4.
The Praetorian smiled at them happily, with an almost sinister glee. It grabbed both by the neck, picking them up as it stepped out of the room and into the hallway. The Praetorian known as Number Four threw one of the drones to the floor, raising a foot and bringing it down on the drone's head, crushing it into a bloody mess on the chemical-resistant metal. The other drone cried out in alarm at the loss of its companion, but it went silent as it was torn in half when all four of its limbs were grabbed by the Praetorian's four arms, and it was torn down the middle from head to groin and slung down each side of the hallway.
Number Four chuckled with glee, kicking the bits of gore about as they hissed on the metal, slowly eating through the protective coating. He ran down the hallway to the left, heading deeper into the facility to find more Xenomorphs and humans to kill.
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Ios AKA Number Five
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The first thing Ios noticed about the dropship was that it was not painted olive green like he had seen others painted, this one was just blank metal with a shiny finish, as if they wanted it to be seen from a distance. Not that it would matter if it was painted olive, as Xenomorphs could still see it as well as if it had been covered in florescent pigment and held under an ultraviolet light.
There were stacks of crates everywhere, and two synthetics worked by unloading more crates from the dropship, and the other opening them and sorting through what was needed at the time. The Marines spread out and began to set up defenses, and the Sergeant handed Ios a pair of dogtags.
"Put those on, it will keep you from being shot by the sentry guns once they're online." Ios nodded, putting the thin chain over his head with a little difficulty, as it was no longer the shape he was used to. He saw that Sarah already had a similar chain around her neck, the metal gleaming in the morning sun. Ios now took this time to look at the polished surface of the dropship, trying to find out what he really looked like.
He was around seven feet tall at full height, but he usually stood in a crouch as it was more comfortable. He looked just like all the images he had seen of Xenomorphs, except this image wasn't snarling or drooling. In fact, he had no slime on him, at all. His carapace was black as pitch…no…black as death, and seemed to absorb the light around him. The only distinct feature he had that he had not seen in any of the images or newsvids was that his tail ended in a straight spike, like a knife, instead of a curved stinger. This, and there was something on the side of his head, stamped on in white.
X-5. It was his designation.
Ios pointed to it with his tail, tapping Sarah on the shoulder. "That…that's your designation. You are number five in a series of Xenomorphs. Number One died before it was even awake, and Number Two broke apart due to a lack of human DNA to keep the synthetic Xeno DNA intact. Number Three was frozen in a tube, and it is kept in Sector Fourteen…and you remember Number Four, right?" Ios nodded. "He was far too aggressive, both to humans and Xenomorphs alike. Nasty creature…he escaped once, killed a few men, then made it back in to his tube without being captured."
So then they made me… Ios frowned, shaking his head.
"What I don't understand is why we never saw you guys in the infant stages, always as an adult and in a tube." Sarah said. "And I never saw the hosts that they grew you in."
They didn't have a host. Ios said. They just turned me into one of these things.
"They say that a Xenomorph takes on the traits of its host, both their DNA and some of their personality. I'm guessing you took it all, including memories." Ios snarled, looking at Sarah in alarm.
Wait…so I might really be a Xeno? I might just have the memories of a host…the one that I think is me? This is so confusing… Ios growled. This would be so much easier if you could understand me.
"We should help them set up the defenses." The woman said, turning on her heel and heading towards the dropship. Ios…or, as she called him, Number Five…followed her, turning from his reflection in the cold steel.
No matter what anyone else says…that reflection isn't me.
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John Hendricks
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John sucked in a breath of frozen air, his eyes snapping open in the crimson light of the cyrobay, his sweat frozen against his blue-tinged skin. He sat up with horror, reaching up to his face. It was dry; there was no trace of slime there. N-19 had left him without impregnating him? Was it possible?
Perhaps. Or maybe it was because all the N-series didn't produce slime. What could it be? Did it attach to him and implant an embryo and die elsewhere? Did it leave him to look for a more suitable host? Was it even aggressive?
John stood up, breathing heavily and stumbling to the hole in the wall. The stairs were there, and far above he saw the mealted section that he had fallen from. He couldn't go that way. He began to climb up the metal cat-walk stairs, taking slow steps until his body began to warm. He had to get to the surface…if he was impregnated, he had to get to Dr. Isen, who knew how to remove an embryo without harming the host. That mad doctor was his only hope of survival unless he got the medical AI online, and that was in Sector Three…where the most dangerous object of all was kept.
The Tank.
John kept on with his ascent until he saw a doorway at the top of a flight of stairs. Sector Fourteen. He turned, opening the hatch with the emergency latch on one side, which was only on the stairs side of the doors. The hatch opened to the new sector and he began walking down a straight hallway to the first door on his left. He had to see about something. He opened the hatch and entered this lab, looking up at the large tank in the center of the room, just as with Number Five's and Number Four's labs. This was where another project was kept, after it had been moved from Sector Four to make room for Number Four himself, and then moved from Sector Five when the new specimen was ready.
It was a Xenomorph, black with white markings on several areas of its arms and legs. It was abnormally thin, even for a Xenomorph, and it had so little flesh it seemed to be nothing but bone. This wasn't a drone, nor a Praetorian…this was a runner, a very interesting creature. This one was thought to be a drone until a sudden DNA change turned it into a runner, forcing the specimen into a permanent coma.
John walked up to the tank, looking up at the lifeless Xenomorph that had been declared failed. He had only come here to make sure it was still intact. This alien was the one he was working on before Sarah arrived and Number Four was created. There was a stamp on the side of its head, clear as day in the substance that filled the tube and locked it away from time.
X-3.
"Hello, Bones…" John muttered. He tapped the screen on the panel that controlled the tube, typing in his access code and bringing up the classified information on this specimen.
Extinction specimen number three. The heading said. Codenamed 'Bones' due to the small amount of muscle tissue present in its body. Declared a failed experiment after slipping into a coma shortly after DNA restructuring. X-3 was created by implanting a young human male with Xenomorph DNA code.
"Too bad you don't get to be out here and killing things, Bones." John muttered. "I just wanted to check up on the rest of the family…tell Number Two I said 'hi', okay?" John typed something into the computer panel, turning on his heel and leaving.
"Specimen X-3 will be terminated in approximately two hours, thirty minutes." The computer said. John smiled and closed the hatch, heading towards the stairs.
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