Dr Harold Sebastian was Director of Science for Project Brightstar on LV-426. He was one of the most brilliant minds of his generation, and Earth's foremost xenobiologist. By the age of 29 he was a Nobel Prize Laureate, and had catalogued over 10,000 alien plants and primitive animals in over 31 star systems. He had dined with presidents and kings, been on the cover of every newssheet in the Core Systems and written 14 best-sellers. And here he was, aged 33, sitting in his office on some Godforsaken rock in the middle of nowhere, watching his career evaporate right before his eyes.

When the Company had discretely approached him over half a year ago with news of their xenomorph, it would be fair to say that he had (almost quite literally) wet his pants. Of all the worlds he had worked on, Sebastian and his team had seen many unique alien species, but none more bright (or more threatening) that the equivalent of an Earth cow. Their story of an intelligent, bipedal parasite, with a hive-like society and awesome strength and speed at first made him laugh.

He remembered telling the Company spook who came to visit him "This is a joke, right?"

"It is no joke," said the spook. "And we want you to go find it. With a Marine Company and 50 of Earth's best scientists at your disposal. As project leader."

How could he say no?

---

So he said yes, and six months later here he was, living underground like some sort of hermit, surrounded by the best minds and equipment the Company had to offer and with sod all to study. The Marines, supposedly the best fighting machine Earth had to offer, had been singularly useless at their task. Sebastian had no doubt that the xenomorph was on LV-426 – as the leader of the Science Team he had access to all the intelligence reports Colonel Harp did, and it was clear from them that the alien creature was out there somewhere. Harp's Marines were just too stupid to find them.

Sebastian had repeatedly sent reports back to the Company lambasting the Colonel's incompetence, demanding that he was also put in charge of the military contingent, but to no avail. The Marines showed absolutely no methodical approach to their searches. An intelligent alien species could easily avoid their haphazard patrols. If things continued as they were he would die an old man on this rock before the xenomorphs were found. In the meantime there was no meaningful research he could conduct here. He hadn't published a paper for almost a year now, and the fickle scientific community back in the Core Systems was forgetting about him already. One of the xenobiology journals back on Earth had already published an article about him entitled "Sebastian Who?".

His science team, though much smaller in number than the Marines, occupied the two lowest sublevels of the facility and the lion's share of the space. Along with the sophisticated laboratories and containment facilities there were rec rooms, much larger offices, a huge library and a theatre. There was even a bar, something he was sure Harp's men would dearly love access to.

The military contingent was not allowed down into the scientific realm of Camp Foster, and for good reason. They may not have found any xenomorphs, but the Marines still had to go through the daily grind of drilling, patrolling and equipment maintenance. The civilian staff, on the other hand, had nothing to do but relax all day on full pay, something the grunts resented bitterly. Still, even Sebastian's staff were getting restless at the inactivity.

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When the Colonel's little dogsbody Wong came to visit Sebastian that morning he assumed it was to deliver another excuse as to why the Marine Commander was too busy to meet with him, but he was pleasantly surprised when Wong told him the Colonel would finally see him that afternoon. Sebastian gave an icy smile to the Lieutenant. "I guess your Colonel Harp didn't like the idea of me telling Earth just how intransigent he has been?"

Wong smiled back without apparent malice. "The Colonel will be pleased to entertain you at three."

These people were insufferable! "Fine. Get out."