Jennifer's Diary

May 21, 2621.

Jon and I have just finished another interview with the podcaster ,Elliot. We dealt with the topic of the previous chapter, which I've written, aswell as the topic of this one, which is a continuation from where I last left off.

Once again before I carry on I must remind the reader, whomever they may be, that when they find this, and read it, that they may remember that this story is not for mine nor their sake, but for Jon's, and the marines' sakes. It is their story. Although Jon won't admit it for the sake of God and his fellow marines, whom he gives the real credit to, it is undeniably his story just as much theirs. Their sacrifices, stories, and their names must not be forgotten. They must not be forgotten.

Like I mentioned in the previous chapter, I never realized how fortunate I actually was for what I had. Just the basic things alone like food, shelter, clothing, and medicine; and all of it without having to live with the threat of the Xenomorphs, we experimented on, breaking out and taking all of it away. Whenever I think about that I must also point out how truely fortunate all of the colonies are for this. None of it would be worth anything if we were dead. This is where I once again thank God for the marines, and their sacrifice. When I look at where I was, where everyone else was, and how close we all were to being to-what Jon would call it- "Xenobait"...

I don't like to think about the possibilities. Still, from what he's taught me, it is important that we also remember those thoughts. "They serve as reminders," Jon once said, "...because for those who do not remember the past, they doom themselves to repeat it."

I was pondering what Jon had told me days before, while I was in my tent. I also pondered just how much violence he'd seen in his time to make him as hardened and unstable as he was. I considered he must have been through quite a bit to want to put a gun to his head. Clearly he'd lost somebody special to him. More than that I should say, he's lost many people who were special to him. "You don't know what it's like to lose friends who you love like siblings... to lose your mother when you're only seven," I thought. I thought about many thoughts like that as I tried to sleep those first few sleepless nights. And believe me I didn't get much sleep. I'm suprised I managed to even keep up to Jon's mediocre pace. Still for how much he'd lived through, for how much he saw, for how many people he lost, I'm suprised he made it as far as he had without killing himself. Obviously I had no idea that this is what the marines were also trained to combat, what they were trained to deal with. The hardships I mean, the hardships of the elements, of the enemies they fought, and those they carried in their minds. There was no limit to how many burdens, and responsibilities one could carry. The only limitation that there truely was was how much could the individual himself carry before he or she broke. How much could he take? That's what they toughened their recruits for, to carry more than they thought they could. To withstand more for those who couldn't do the same. Jon had carried quite a load. I assumed that many marines who'd survived Crimer's Massacre had carried quite a load of their own. But to see how much it was weighing down on him... It was unsettling to say the least.

"But this couldn't all be Dad's fault?" I questioned. "Sure maybe some of it was true, maybe some of it was connected to Dad and his work? But there has to be some logical explanation for it?" I tried really hard not to even think that Dad was a mass murderer. "Then again? How much did I really know about him? What did he do when I wasn't looking? When no one else was looking?" I was to unsure of what to think. Who should I believe? Obviously I couldn't go against Dad, I would never do that to him. Not just because he's helped so many lives find homes and jobs that can support them and their families, nor that he gives us safety and security from the Xenomorphs he experiments on, but because he's my father. He loved me, granted I wasn't his legitimate child, but he loved me and regarded as though I was. He'd done everything he could to show it. How could I go behind him like this? But was it all true, what he told me? Don't get me wrong, nothing could ever make me believe that Daddy never loved me for even a second of my life, but what about his experiments with the "Shadows?" What was he really doing with them? Experimenting, Obviously, but what was the cause of it all for? Why did he need to experiment on the creatures? Yes it was to help combat other Xenomorphs and other potential threats like the Predators and Space Jockeys. Then again why did it need to be done, when the marines had been ordered to do an entire planetary extermination of the species? This was before Dad even started portraying the marines for who they were, before they were lazy, xeno worshipping gun monkeys. They were pretty damn good at their jobs. They left nothing behind. Unless? Unless Daddy had taken some alive? There was no way the marines would just let the xenomorphs continue to propagate uncontested. They knew what those creatures could do. They knew how bad things would get. They'd learned that lesson plenty of times over. Acheoron, The Earth War, General Spears, Freya's Prospect. Heck I've even read up on an interesting case that happened on a planet called Ryushi, where the marines had their first encounter with a Predalien. (Also the suposed supposed 2004 incidents were just fabricated stories, neither incident actually happened.) Then again that was none of Weyland Yutani business so it doesn't technically count, but still? Even when you take potential threats into consideration, like the mysterious Space Jockeys, or the aforemention Yautja, they are not as big of threats as most people make them out to be. The Space Jockeys are either extinct, or at least in hibernation. The Yautja only come to hunt for about a couple weeks, maybe even a month or two at most, and they mostly only hunt, dangerous or armed prey. Could Dad really have been lying this whole time? This was the first time I actually looked at what was really happening, and put two and two together.

I was shocked. I still held out for hope that this was all just one big mistake, and Dad was truely innocent, but as for Weyland Yutani itself. It was as red as a blood. Jon was right. Still I wasn't going to believe it was Dad until I found out for myself if it really was.

The truth hit me like a tsunami of bricks. It was this overwhelming feeling of revelation that can only be described by the simple phrase. "Oh sht!"

With all of these thoughts bagging around inside my brain, sleep was the last thing on my mind that night. I had to speak to Jon, I had to make it up. Then again he had awoken me during one of his episodes, so maybe it would be best that I let him rest. Wait until I know he's okay. People who normally sneak up on others, don't like being snuck up on. So I sat there in the tent, my mind racing furiously with all of those thoughts. Somehow I managed to fall back to sleep. It was refreshing to say the least, as I was not disturbed. When I did wake up I found Jon sitting on a log next to the fire pit he'd been using as a perch the night before. He was peacefully whittling at a piece of wood with his wristblades. I approached him carefully and in such a manner that told him I was there.

"Morning," Jon said in a very dispirited manner.

"Good Morning," I replied in a respectfully submissive tone. A silence fell over us for a short time, as I tried to make my brain work up the courage to spit out what I wanted to say. I was to worried, to embarrassed, to afraid to speak. Would he listen to me and accept my apology, or would he throw my ignorance, and pitiful attempt of a sorry in my face? I didn't even need to say a thing as he had sensed I wanted to speak with him.

"If you want to say something, you can go ahead and say it," he spoke.

I made a nervous stutter, how could I start. I felt super embarrassed. And all I was really doing was just trying to just say I was sorry for being such a little bratty inconvenience.

"I-I-I just w-wanted to-say I'm... I'm sorry." I heard the blades on his gauntlet stop peeling wood after I exhaled my apology. Once again silence fell over us. "I'm sorry," I repeated trying to sound more controlled and sincere.

Jon sat his carved wood piece down and let out a low sigh. I could tell he was unsure of what to say, as much as I was. Finally he did speak, "I'm sorry too." He apologized to me. Now I was just confused. I'd cussed him out wrongfully, thrown his friend's honor in the mud, and been ungrateful of everything he did for me, yet here he was apologizing to me.

"What?"

"I know this may be strange for you to understand, but I'm apologizing to you for getting angry over a simple mistake. You were scared and you weren't thinking correctly, but you weren't trained to handle any thing like that. You made a mistake and that's all it was. Sht happens. I should've suspected it." He spoke like he'd done this before, which he most likely had. "I was just so caught up with trying to catch them. I just lost myself."

"No. It's my fault. Had I listened we wouldn't still be out here on this wild goose chase, excuse me for the expression." I began. "I was wrong, I only cared about myself. I didn't want to help you. Lives are on the line right now, and I allowed you to loose the xenos. I should be the one that's sorry right now, not you. You're just trying to do your job, protecting the colonies from my Dad's assets." I made sure to sound sincere, yet also tell him he was right about Weyland Yutani, although it came across more as me blaming Dad. Jon turned around and looked me in the face. I could tell by his curious clicky growl that echoed from his masked face that he couldn't believe his ears, or whatever he has for ears. "I am also apologizing for my lack of empathy for you, and especially for your friends, I was wrong about them, and I was wrong about you too. You didn't deserve that. I've been nothing but an ungrateful, whiney brat. You've saved my life twice now, given me something to eat, and more comfort than I even deserve to be given. You are also right about Weyland Yutani, something has been going on and I've been buying into it's lies. I also believe that we've lied about the marines. I realize all of this now, but I don't believe it's my Dad who's doing this. I just wanted to say that."

Jon continued making a series of growls, each in a high-pitched curious manner as I continued. "When I do get back I'll look into it if I can, but I'm not going to believe he's responsible until I see for myself. But I am very very sorry about what I did, and what I said."

Once again we fell silent. Jon then began packing us up. I asked him why he was packing up. He answered telling me we were going to go back to the facility. He was keeping his end of the bargain, and it was almost futile trying to find the queen given how long we'd been off the trail, and backup hadn't arrived to help us yet. Jon was less hopeful that they would've helped us. He absolutely hates the Task Force, although it's only second to him when compared to how much he hates xenomorphs. I wasn't hearing it though. I stood my ground and told him that the colonies were still in danger, and I felt partially responsible for getting in his way. He tried to talk me down saying that we'd lost them and it'd be smarter if we just hiked it back to the facility where he could have the equipment to help track their signals, as we'd basically lost them at this point. I still disagreed to follow.

"We made a deal, remember? You're fulfilling your end, I think it's only fair that we at least continue for one more day. If we don't find anything from now until sundown, we can leave in the morning. I just want to try to make up." Given how strategically sound Jon's idea was compared to mine, I wouldn't be surprised if he disagreed, but he understood honor and integrity, and he cherished both more than his own life. He was hesitant at first. He wanted to get the job done, but he wanted to be smart about it also. He wanted to be sure that he wasn't wasting any valuable time for the colonies sake. But like I said, he respected integrity with a reverence I was just beginning to learn, and agreed to one more day. But if we didn't find anything, we'd need to back to the facility by yesterday's time. We shook on it.

Amazingly enough though we did manage to find a trail. It was faint but legibly unmistakable to Jon. He told me I'd made a recklessly dumb, yet noble decision that would alow us to continue. "pyode/kha'bj-te tarei'hsan." I heard him say. It was a Yautja phrase of his I couldn't understand it. Jon explained to me that I'd allowed us to continue the hunt, but asked if I was still sure about continuing. We still had time to make it back to the facility and track them to their local. Of course I knew he was asking if I was ready to continue, and that this would be the last chance to turn back. I was not going to turn back now, or ever. I'd made a deal and it was about damn time I started fulfilling my end in it.

"No chance." I responded proudly.

"Sure?" He asked on last time.

"How hard can this be?" Just thinking that sentence I knew was a mistake. Jon knew it was too.

"Kha'bj-te, that definitely fits you. Very well then. We'll continue." He commented.

I just said nothing and we continued on our way.

We actually began to have decent conversations with each other, I also finally asked what his name was as we followed the trail. Kjon Schaefer, I just took to calling him, Jonathan, or Jon for short. He explained that he was raised and trained under Hadrick Schaefer who was not only his commanding officer/ Major, but also his adoptive father. That was interesting. We continued like this for the entirety of our journey until we had to stop to set up out camp. I managed to pick some grillbor berries which I happily partook of, along with another piece of Brear-hog. I ate it just to be more appreciative to Jon. He was more polite with me aswell. We actually made some pretty decent forward progress that day.

About two days afterward I began putting my technological expertise to use. We managed to fix my bracelet, and allowed ourselves to track the queen's tracker devise through satalite imaging, aided by the use of Jon's spare wristbracer. Man are those things really useful. Judging by how far the queen was traveling south west, and where the imaging showed her current position, we made a educated determination that she was travelling to Cardona Valley, which upon further tracking and satellite readings found to be true.

Cardona Valley is a small patch of land that is accessible through one main open pass, with the surrounding territory being blocked of by hazardously sloped mountain ranges. The valley used to actually be a single large mountain, but it was home to a large nest of xenomorphs which were obliterated, along with most of the mountain itself during the planetary extermination. There would be no doubt that the queen would seek safety there. It had everything she needed to prepare a new hive; space, protection from almost every degree, and plenty of new wildlife for her to impregnate. It would take time given how many of her offspring she still had with her, but that would more or less be on our advantage. Still we were days behind them. By the time we would get there and Jon would have everything he needed to take out the newly formed hive, there might be hundreds of them. Still, given our stubbornness to stop and our teamwork allowing us to catch up with them, I was feeling positive about our chances.

Of course there were other obstacles we had to work against, the terrain, weather, wildlife, ecsetra. Although these obstacles really only affected me. Jon ,on the other hand, was perfectly suited, and knowing on how to deal with these minor issues.

But Jon also had his limitations. He would at times become very depressed and at times anxious, which didn't help considering the fact he had been struggling with a severe case of survivors guilt, and PTSD. He'd have to leave to try and calm himself. It was for my safety that he left because he'd often become so entranced in the nightmares, and all the horrible memories that he'd think he was actually experiencing them physically. I'd followed him a few times and seen the display as it played out completely, rather than the simple aftermath I witnessed the night before. He'd lose himself to these hallucinations and violently lash out at everything, not in an aggressive predatory manner, but in a defensive, terrified manner. It was like he was fighting desperately to defend himself against something, somethings that were threatening him. He'd swip and claw at thin air, run into trees and rocks he wasn't able to see past the flashbacks he thought were real. Worst yet he'd speak in this childlike voice, begging, screaming, cursing, crying. It was one of the most horrifying things I'd ever seen. I knew what the effects were like for someone with this kind of mental state, but to see it as it was affecting them, to see what was happening to them in the moment. That kind of horror is just to painfully difficult for words to describe. Once he did snap out of it, he'd curl up and softly whimper, "Where am I? "Dear Merciful Heavenly Father, where am I?" He sniveled that he couldn't remember what'd happened or even where he was before he lost himself.

This was what I felt most sorry about him for. Our relationship wasn't very strong but we were at least friendly with each other. We were partners, companions, heck I treated him like he was my friend. I wanted to comfort him each and everytime he acted up like this, but that was foolish. The best thing that I could do for him was comfort him after I knew for sure he was back on his feet again.

I tried a couple of times to actually show him some measure of affection. It was small, but it was something. He'd spent so much time being to socially cut off from everyone, because they despised him, not just because he was a Yautja, but because he was also a marine. Those who did care for him were either dead, or excommunicated from him. He'd been through hell, seen so many people he cared for die, and no one cared, especially after what he did for them. Weyland Yutani had did this to him, and the company's Task Force didn't help empathize with him either. They just made it worse. They're the ones that should be defaced in front of the colonies, not the marines, not Jon!

Jon was confused, scared, and alone. He had nothing to look forward to besides another painful day of fighting painful battles, and remembering even more painful memories. All of this and he was only a 26 year old youngster. Jon explained what the age ratio of his species was like, and while he was an adult, from a human age comparison he was still just a teenager, a very young teenager at that. His species could live for hundreds, to even thousands of years, and he was still nothing more than just a mere child. That thought even had me in tears, and I wasn't the one who was struggling with nightmares, and burning memories about my friends and family dying. Here he was just this little kid suffering so much affliction without even a simple thought of compassion or appreciation from anybody. Absolutely nothing. Nothing but the guarantee that the next day would be just as difficult if not more so than the one before, until it's all over. I thought about how cruel it would be if he just simply disappeared from this world. All of his sacrifice and tribulation just forgotten, like it never meant anything to anyone at all. Like it had to me until I saw him there.

I tried to be as friendly to him as I could. I wanted to be his friend. I wanted to at least give him some sign of kindness, and appreciation that told him he was not alone, that his suffering wasn't being forgotten by everyone. He turned me down everytime I tried. He confessed that he was appreciative of what I was trying to do, but he'd lost so many people he'd been close to in his life, he didn't want to lose anything more. Not that it'd matter for to much longer. He knew he was nearing his breaking point, it was almost the end of the line. He'd hold out for as long as he could, and once it was all finally over, he'd put himself out of his misery.

I was heartbroken by this. For all he'd held out for, for everything he'd done, for how young he was, he knew he was nothing more than a pawn meant to be overlooked, mistreated, and forgotten despite how much he had done. Everyone else was giving up on him, and now it'd reached the point where he had given up hope for himself.

I still tried to help, but all I was able to do was help him reach his end goal faster. There were still plenty more xenomorphs besides the ones we were hunting, he knew that, as did I. But he remained steadfast.

"Once it's all finally over and every last one of these fckers are dead," he said, "I'm going to do what I should've been done at Crimer's Ridge."

No, I wasn't going to let that happen to him. He'd given so much for me and so many others, It was about time we gave something back.

And done! Damn was that a long one to get to. So yeah I'm continuing the story with Jenny's perspective, and I may end up doing the same for Kj to. I will at some point come back to Elliot and his podcast, but as for right now with how the story is and how I want to portray it, I'm going to continue doing this since I feel I'm able to convey the emotions of the characters better. I want to give them as much depth I can, and this is the best way I feel I can accomplish that. Anyway, next part is coming soon, and I hope you guys enjoyed it.