Our first look at the creatures that have haunted ours and Ripley's nightmares. More are to come… I promise. I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while, but I had to complete my Fable story and tie up some loose ends. Now that it's complete, I can look more into this one. Though… I have to admit I'm working on some of my original stuff… NO… I promise that I will try to update this story in a timely manner. Cross my heart and hope to fry; may a chestbuster come out of me… no… don't want that… that would be painful. Anyway, enjoy the short chapter and I'll see you around.

Chapter Six

Survivors

"This is a general anesthesia," the woman explained as she injected Johner in several places on his chest, "Just keep the pressure on his wounds," she handed Call and Ripley large pieces of gauze.

They pressed into his wounds and he clinched his teeth in pain.

"I need to flush out the wounds," she started to pull out syringes and bags of fluids, "Move your hands," she motioned to Call.

Call pulled away her hands. They were drenched with bright red blood. It was running down her arm and dripping to the metal floor. She could barely look at them as she headed towards the sink. Vriess looked for a towel or something to wipe her hands on.

"Here," a man in a tattered white lab coat handed him a blue cloth.

He had been sitting on a swivel stool since they entered the small white room. He hadn't gotten up to help with Johner and he only wheeled around grabbing things for the woman. He now leaned up against the wall with his chin resting on his palm.

Call quickly washed her hands and wiped them dry. Vriess took the bloody rag and toss it out of her sight. She just stood there as the doctor continued to work on Johner.

"It's not as bad as I thought," the woman examined the wounds, "Much more shallow… just a lot of blood...," she noticed the blood dripping from the table to the floor.

"Not that bad huh?" Johner clinched his teeth, "Here I thought that motherfucker ripped out my chest!"

"Calm down Johner," Ripley secretly dug one of her fingers into one of his wounds, "The good doctor is going to fix you up. Just lay back and relax."

He clinched his teeth even harder and mouthed something at her, but kept quiet as the woman doctor came back with a syringe full of clear liquid. She squirted into the wounds and Johner sneered as it burned and washed away the bacteria and infectious pathogens.

"Sorry," she shyly smiled, "I know it hurts but the wounds have to be cleaned before I close them."

"Heard it all before," he indicated to the scars on his face, "The last doc promised to keep this pretty mug in one piece… he didn't do too well."

Bam!

Ripley slammed Johner's head back.

The doctor was taken aback by her aggressive manners, "He's injured! Slamming his head like that could cause a serious injury!" she checked Johner's head.

"Trust me Doc," Vriess laughed, "There wasn't much up there to hurt anyway. Bang him around all you like."

Johner only raised his middle finger to Vriess. He just shrugged his shoulders and smirked at Johner's clinches and hisses of pain.

"This is going to feel a little strange," the female doctor started to staple his wounds closed.

Ripley held his shoulders down, so he wouldn't jump so much. He eventually stopped his flinching as more and more staples entered his skin.

"There…," the doctor wiped her brow, "they're closed. Let me just clean up the site a little and apply some antibiotics," she rummaged through a drawer.

"No thanks…," Johner started to sit up in pain, but Ripley pushed him back down again.

"Over here my dear Gwen," the man pulled open a drawer and held out an ointment, "This one works better."

She looked to him for a moment; like she didn't want to use what he had. She sighed and took the tube from him. Applying the silvery white ointment to some sterile bandages, she gently placed them Johner's freshly closed wounds.

"Lie here for a while and rest," she smiled to Johner, "Too much movement could open the wounds, and," she pulled liquid out of a small vile, "this should keep you from getting an infection," she stuck him in the arm.

"So gentle," his eyes lingered to private places.

Ripley just flicked him in the head.

"Thanks for patching him up," Vriess thanked the woman doctor, "He's annoying as hell, but he's a reliable motherfucker."

"Same to you Vriess… same to you," Johner snorted.

"I'm just sorry that you stumbled upon this God forsaken place," the woman washed her hands, "This was not the ship to scavenge."

"God hasn't forsaken this place," the man on the stool smiled, "We were gods here… we are still here…"

"Oh Anton," the woman looked at him sadly.

"Sounds like someone lost a few screws," Vriess whispered up to Ripley and Call.

"Who wouldn't in a place like this," the man sighed, "It is a place given to the devil's offspring. They run the hallways that use to be ours. They nest in the hollow caverns that once propelled this space bound graveyard. They have taken the chaos of this place and replaced it with their strict order," he smiled, "I'm sorry," he apologized, "After all that I have seen… and the loss of my leg," he indicated to the stump of his left leg, "has made me see how insane I was."

"Sounds like you still are," Vriess snorted.

"Please forgive Dr. Anton," the woman begged, "He has been stuck in this room for three weeks now due to the loss of his leg. Being confined for so long is not good for mental health," she tried to smile, "but hopefully rescue will come soon."

The doctor laughed, "Yes… rescue my dear Gwen… that will be a bullet in between the eyes," he pointed to his brow, "These people here are our salvation… for you anyway… I'm not going anywhere," he meant his disability.

She bent down to him, "I'm not leaving you behind Anton. We've been through a lot these last seven years… you've looked out for me and I'm going to do the same for you."

"So sweet…," Johner commented from his down position.

Ripley ignored him and stepped towards the pair, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there are a lot of questions that need answering."

The woman sighed, "What's the point in asking questions?" she turned to the group, "All you need to know is that those things out there want to kill you. They are beast of the worst kind; smart and deadly."

"That's kind of standard for a Xenomorph," Ripley smirked.

"How… how do you know what they are?" the woman looked to her in confusion and surprise.

"Don't you know who they are my dear Gwen?" the man asked as he leaned up against the wall, "That's your brother's creation… that's Ripley 8 and they," he motioned to the others, "Are the only known survivors of the USM Auriga."

She turned to them and just stared.

"If you don't mind doctors," Ripley folded her arms.

"Questions… yes," the man smiled, "Ask away."